Compromising Positions

by Mary Whitney

  “Why would you want to help me?”

  “I’m divorced. I know what you’re going through. You’re trying to get on with your life, but your past is still hanging over you. And frankly, I like both you and Jessie. There’s no reason for this to be a scandal. I have an idea about how to get around that. Before the other reporter runs their story, I’ll simply mention that you two are companions in an article I’m working on.”

  “Well, that’s kind of you.”

  “It’s not entirely altruistic. I am scooping another reporter, but I’ll see to it that he knows so he can get the second hit. Regardless, you two will be prepared, and having it first disclosed by me will make it more respectable.”

  “Thank you. Thank you very much. I really appreciate it, and I think Jessie will also. My one question is when are you running this story?”

  “Next week.”

  “Good.” Michael added in a mutter, “That gives us some time.”

  “If you don’t mind, I need to call the Congresswoman now and have the same conversation with her.”

  “That’s fine. I know she’ll appreciate this as much as I do.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Michael

  As I hung up the phone with Chuck, I was thankful both that I wouldn’t be the one breaking the news to Jessie and that I’d have a few minutes to come up with a plan before we spoke. When she called a few minutes later, I was ready for her anxiety.

  “Oh, Michael.” She almost whined. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re okay. We’re going to get through this. It’s just playing out a little different than we’d expected.”

  “I asked how the other reporter found out, but Chuck said he wasn’t at liberty to tell. I really don’t get it. We’ve been careful.”

  Anyone monitoring me would think I was incredibly dull, and I’d gone to great lengths to keep it that way. That wasn’t difficult because it wasn’t really as if I had a life beyond work, other than my nighttime with Jessie. “We’ve been very careful, but the fact is that we sleep together every night, which I might add, is the high point of my day.”

  “Mine also. I don’t want this to get messy and things to end like this.”

  “Nothing’s going to end. We’ll work through it. My divorce will be approved by the court in two months. Everyone will forget that we happened to get together before things were final. Don’t worry. We’re staying together no matter what happens.”

  “Good. I’ll stay positive.”

  “I’m just surprised it was Chuck Benjamin who contacted me about it.”

  “I think we looked pretty suspicious that night we met him at the restaurant.”

  “It sounds like it was a good thing we met him under those circumstances. He told me he wanted to give us a break because he understood what it was like going through a divorce.”

  “That’s nice of him, and it’s great that he’s giving us a heads-up.”

  “It’s a Godsend. Since he called, I’ve been coming up with a plan.”

  “What do you think we should do?”

  “Well, let’s figure out who needs to know and at what time.”

  “Do you want to start at the beginning or the end?”

  “How about the end?” I didn’t want to drop the bomb on her too quickly.

  “Okay. The last people we tell before the story is published are our personal staff. That’s the night before.”

  “Yes, and before them we tell our respective party leadership and our closest colleagues.”

  “That’s right.” She hummed for a moment. “Any friends? Trish already knows. No one else in my group needs a heads-up. What about you?”

  “No friends, but…” My voice became less confident. “What about family?”

  “I’ll tell my parents. They’ll be fine. They’re reasonable people. They may not like that your divorce isn’t final and the way it’s coming out, but they’ll be supportive. It’s not like they would ever say anything negative in the press.” Her voice became more serious. “But, Michael. What about your family?”

  “Well, I’m going to call them immediately, but I want to offer something, and I need to ask you first.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re going to Arizona this weekend, right?”

  “Of course. You know that.”

  “How would you feel about coming back a day early and stopping off in Chicago to meet my parents?” Had I just asked her to prom? That’s what it felt like.

  Clearly caught flat-footed, Jessie stumbled. “Um. Just a moment. Let me think this through.”

  “I think it will all be infinitely easier if we can say that my parents have met you, and they approve.”

  “Approve?” There was silence for a moment as if she had to hold the phone away from her ear because I was crazy. When she came back on the line, she said, “They’ll approve me on the spot? Isn’t that a lot to ask of them? Your mother doesn’t want you even seeing anyone until your marriage is annulled. Your parents are Republicans, and I’m sure like every Republican, they’d like for there to be one less Democrat in Congress and for me to be out of a job. Come on, Michael…. why would they ever approve of me?”

  Before I could answer her rhetorical questions, she continued and became indignant, “Not to mention, I don’t like having to get their approval. I’m a grown woman, and I’m a friggin’ member of Congress. We’re not seventeen and in high school.”

  God, she made such sense. If a woman had asked the same thing of me, I’d have Jessie’s exact reaction. I tried to explain. “I’m sorry. I know what I’m asking is awkward, and the truth is, my parents will help me regardless of how they feel about you, but I think it would be better if you all meet.”

  “But under these circumstances? Besides, I’ve met your mother. She wasn’t very warm as I recall.”

  “I’m not saying this is going to be easy. I just think it’s necessary.”

  I waited for her next response, but she remained quiet. Then, as if she’d accepted unsavory conditions on a deal that had to be made, her tone was determined. “All right. We’ll make it work. What do you want me to do?”

  “If you can, fly in Sunday evening. Then take a cab to my parents’ place. We’ll have dinner with them, talk things over, spend the night, and you fly out the next day. Is that okay?”

  “No problem.” She chuckled. “And the more I think about it, it’s going to be kind of fun.”

  “That’s what I thought,” I muttered.

  “Hey, you can’t be sarcastic. This was your idea.” Her protest was playful.

  “Yes, it was…”

  ~~~

  After Jessie and I had talked some more, she had to run to a meeting, leaving me with nothing to do, but my next task. I took a deep breath as I picked up the phone to call my dad. Normally, I’d just tell my mom if I was coming to spend the night at the house. This was a different situation—I was bringing a date, and not just any date. It was Jessie. I needed reinforcement in dealing with my mom, and from the time I was caught in bed with my high school girlfriend and up until my divorce, my dad had always been there to help smooth things over with her.

  After I had given him the two minute synopsis of my dilemma, Dad reacted first as a father, then as a politician. “Oh, Michael,” he said with a sigh. “I feared something like this would happen to you. I wish you would’ve listened to me.”

  “Right, Dad, but I didn’t. Can we just deal with the situation?”

  “I don’t think this is very difficult. If asked, your mother and I will say what we always say, ‘We never comment on our son’s private life. Like all parents, we just want to see our children happy.’”

  “Thanks, Dad. That’s perfect. I knew you’d back me.”

  “Of course, we would. Leave our congressman son dangling in the wind? Not a chance. That helps no one.” My father’s voice then became gravelly and cynical. “But I warn you your mother will not be happy about this. I think she’s
taken some comfort in portraying you to her friends as an unwitting victim of a gold digger. It won’t sit well with her that now that she’ll be forced to explain a Democrat girlfriend.”

  “I know.”

  “Have you thought about pulling back when this comes out? Maybe cool things off with Jessie for a bit while the storm blows over?”

  “No, I want to do just the opposite.” My tone was as certain as my feelings for Jessie. “I think we should be very visible and act like a normal couple.”

  “Are you sure? I mean… I suppose that’s another option for dealing with the backlash.”

  “It’s not a strategy, Dad. It’s what I really want. I’m serious about her—very serious.”

  “You are?” His shock could be heard through the phone.

  “I am. This is going someplace between us. I know it is.”

  “Michael, this might just be a rebound. You realize that, right?”

  “I thought that when I first got to know her, but it’s not the case. She’s special, and I don’t want to be without her.”

  “Well…” Dad sounded stumped.

  “Dad, I want to do this right. I want to bring Jessie over to the house on Sunday. I want you and Mom and Emily to spend some time with her. I thought we might spend the night and fly out the next day.”

  “Whoa!” Dad guffawed into the phone. “So soon? And now of all times?”

  “I told you it was serious. My family should all have met Jessie before this hits the press.”

  “Oh, God. No wonder you called me and not your mother, so now I’m the one who has to tell her.”

  “I admit I’m being a little chicken shit here.” I chuckled.

  “Yes, you are, but I understand why. As far as I remember, you’ve never had a girlfriend spend the night at the house.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “I hope you don’t expect the sleeping arrangements to be the same as when you were married to Stacy and staying the night. Your mother will not want you in the same bed as Jessie.”

  I rolled my eyes. “If Mom wants to give Jessie one of the guest suites, that’s wonderful and very gracious, but I’m a thirty-five year old man. She’s not going to stop me from following Jessie inside the room.”

  “I can respect that.” He was silent for a moment, and his voice became curious.

  “So what does Jessie think of all this?”

  “I’d say she’s a little taken aback by it all, and to be honest, she’s pretty reticent about meeting you and Mom.”

  “Hmm.” Dad snickered. “I actually think that’s a good sign.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Jessie

  The following Sunday evening, while I pulled a few twenty dollar bills from my wallet, the cabbie went to get my luggage from the trunk. When I got out of the cab, Michael was standing there already paying my fare. As the cabbie shut the trunk and drove down the Grath residence’s long driveway, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “It’s good to see you, but I can pay for my own cab.”

  Wrapping one arm around me and taking my suitcase with the other, he laughed. “I know, but you’re my guest.”

  He led me toward the ornate doorway of what could only be described as a mansion. “This house is beautiful.”

  “Thanks, but wait ’til you see the inside. It’s a little too fussy for my taste.”

  I laughed. “Now that we’re openly dating, I’m going to actually get to visit your apartment, and I can see for myself what your taste is like.”

  “And the next time you come to visit me here, you can stay with me at my place in the district or my apartment downtown,” he said with a smile.

  “You have four homes you can sleep in at any given time?”

  “Yeah, I guess so, if you count this place, which is my parents’.” He shrugged. “Are apartments really homes, anyway?”

  “Uh, yes, the majority of the world lives in apartments.” I squeezed his arm.

  “Regardless, let’s just say you have four beds you can sleep in at any given time.” Michael leaned down and whispered in my ear. “And I plan on having you in every single one.”

  “Ah.” I exclaimed, my eyes wide. “I can’t believe you just said—”

  “What are you two laughing about?” asked an older male voice.

  I looked at the door to see Gerald and Evelyn Grath standing in the entryway. I glanced up at Michael, who had turned his smile to his parents.

  “We’re not laughing at anything really.” He rubbed my shoulder. “Dad. Mom. I’d like for you to meet Jessica Clark.”

  “Hello, Congresswoman Clark,” Michael’s father said, extending his hand. “Evelyn and I are very happy to have you here.”

  “Thank you, Governor and Mrs. Grath,” I said, as I shook his hand. “But, please call me Jessie.”

  “And please call me, Gerald.”

  “And I’m Evelyn,” said Mrs. Grath with a smile. “It’s good to see you again, Jessie.”

  “It’s nice to see you also. You have a lovely home.”

  As Gerald ushered everyone inside, Evelyn glanced around the grand foyer and said, “Thank you. That’s nice to hear because it feels a little empty sometimes.” She looked at me again. “And thank you for visiting. I get to have dinner with both of my children tonight, which doesn’t happen that often anymore.”

  Evelyn’s eyes were bright and happy, but I searched her face for some sign of her actual feelings. Considering the circumstances, I didn’t believe that Evelyn was really pleased I was visiting, but she did appear genuinely warm, as did Gerald. Politics aside. They’re really nice people.

  “Oh, Mom, I’m here all the time,” said a young woman as she placed her hand on Evelyn’s shoulder. She grinned at me. “Hi! I’m Emily. Michael has probably said terrible things about me.”

  “Hi, Emily. I’m Jessie,” I said, extending my hand. “And he’s said nothing of the sort. Well, he has said you’re a workaholic, but he has no room to talk.”

  “No one in this family has any leeway to speak on that subject,” said Evelyn, laughing. “And I know for a fact that you’re probably a hard worker yourself, Jessie. No woman gets to where you are without serious dedication.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled at her. “I appreciate it.”

  While Michael and the rest of his family debated who the biggest workaholic was, I watched Evelyn again. What she’d said to me was a compliment, but it also was a reminder that she knew who I was outside of being the girl her son had brought home.

  A few hours later, my judgment was confirmed over the course of dinner. In the fancy formal dining room, dinner was delicious and the conversation was smooth. The meal had been catered by Emily’s favorite chef, and she also provided the bulk of the conversation. As the evening wore on, she began to be really nice to me.

  “Jessie, you should really come to my restaurant the next time you’re in town. We could have a drink, and then I’ll take you to this great hole-in-the-wall Japanese place.”

  “Thanks. That’s really nice of you to offer.” I glanced at Michael.

  Emily watched me look at her brother and said, “Oh, Michael. You can come, too, but only if you don’t talk politics while we’re out. You know I hate that.”

  “You’re a Grath, and you don’t like politics?” I chuckled.

  “Hate it.” Emily sneered. “No offense. It just bores me to tears.”

  “No offense taken.” I smiled. “It’s just funny considering your family.”

  “I’m not a Republican anyway. I’m a Libertarian.”

  “Libertarian.” Michael snorted and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “That just means you’re selfish as hell.”

  “You always say that, and it’s not true,” Emily countered, as she crossed her arms. “I’m very generous. I just don’t want anyone telling me what to do, and I don’t want to tell anyone else what to do.”

  “Unlike liberals and conservatives, Libertarians have no moral code whatsoever,” said M
ichael. “It’s an anti-intellectual philosophy.”

  “Unlike some people, I’ve never pretended to be an intellectual,” Emily answered with a huff.

  “Which is good, because you’re not.” Michael sneered.

  “Emily. Michael,” said Evelyn in a warning tone.

  “Emily, it’s okay,” I said, trying to smoothing things over. “I like Libertarians. We always agree at least half the time, which is more than I can say for a lot of people.”

  “I’ve always felt the same way about them,” said Gerald with a smile. “And I’m fine with whatever Emily believes for herself—as long as she votes for her brother and supports the family.”

  “And I do that,” Emily said, eyeing Michael.

  “Thanks,” Michael said half-heartedly.

  Evelyn clasped her hands together and looked around the table. “So this brings me to something…”

  “What’s that?” said Michael.

  “You and Jessie are on opposite sides of the aisle, so you obviously vote differently all the time. You probably don’t agree that often. How do you feel about that?” She ended with a smile, which made me think the question was totally planned to ensnare me.

  A frown formed on Michael’s face, and he flatly replied, “I believe I already told you it doesn’t matter to us.”

  “But really, how can that be? You two are both passionate in your beliefs. How do you get around your differences?” asked Evelyn.

  “Just like Mary Matalin and James Carville do,” said Emily. “It’s not that big of a deal, Mom.”

  “Evelyn, I don’t think we have to make them answer this,” said Gerald as he gave his wife a cautionary look.

  I took a drink of water as I often did before I had to tangle with someone. It was a simple action that made everything seem casual and gave me a moment to prepare. As I set the glass down in front of me, I said, “Actually, I don’t mind answering the question. Evelyn is right that Michael and I are both firm in our political beliefs. I think we grew closer because we could have friendly debates.”

  “I think that’s right,” said Michael.

  “But what about your formal positions on the issues of the day? How do you get around that?” asked Evelyn, arching a brow.