“Hi,” Lori said. “I can’t see you.”
“I just wanted to do voice tonight, is that okay?”
“Of course. Are you all right?”
And Betsy just poured her heart out, telling Lori everything. Lori was one of those people who thought positively. She believed that things would always work out for the best. But as she heard her sister deep in pain, she couldn’t offer much in the way of hope. And then Betsy said something that her sister didn’t know. “Lori, I don’t think I was ever really in love with this man. I respected him and I admired him, and I was willing to be his partner, but if that is no longer cherished, what am I doing? How many years do I have left? Don’t I deserve better?”
Lori just listened. She didn’t know where this was going. She knew Matthew Bernstein would run again, and she knew that no president had ever split up with his spouse, either in office or afterward. This wouldn’t be a first that anyone would like to add to his résumé. But Lori heard Betsy’s pain and, though she knew how she would advise her if she were just a friend, this was the First Lady of the United States, after all. And her sister.
“Honey, I hear you. I know how hard this must be. You just have to understand this is a very big decision given your public profile.”
“You don’t think I know that?”
“You will hurt his chances for reelection. That I’m sure you’re aware of.”
“Not necessarily. More people get divorced than stay married, he could get all their votes.”
“Well, I don’t know if people who get divorced want their president to get divorced. Do you know what I mean?”
“This is a tough job, Lori. I still have almost two years left on the first shift. There is no way I could sign up again feeling like I do now.”
“I understand. I really do. You have to follow your heart, but maybe if you take a little time to yourself you can work this out. Can’t you go to Camp David alone for a week?”
“I don’t want to go to Camp David. It’s the same as here; the beds are just more uncomfortable.”
“Well, you can come stay with me for a week. We have no room for the Secret Service but we would love to have you.”
And as Betsy listened to her sister’s advice, she realized how few options she had living in the most public bubble in the world.
“Thank you for listening, honey. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Anything I can do, Betsy. If you want, I can come there for a few days.”
“That would be nice. I would like that.”
“Okay. Let me see if I can clear some time. I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks. I love you, honey.”
And Betsy disconnected, not feeling an iota better.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
“Would you like to see the house in person?”
“Yes. That was the best virtual tour I’ve ever taken. Unless there’s something I missed or the inspection turns out negative, I see no reason that I won’t buy it.”
Kathy Bernard was beaming. The extra expense to upgrade the virtual business had resulted in five additional sales for the month. For the first time she made enough money to pay back some of the medical loan. She felt like an adult and it suited her just fine. She was also growing very fond of Clyde Folsom. Kathy realized that this was the first older person she’d had any major contact with. She had lumped them all in the same group as Max did, but knowing Clyde made her wonder if that was such a good idea.
“You sold another?” Clyde asked.
“Well, I have to meet her there to close but she certainly bought virtually. And this house, unlike some, reads even better in person.”
“Any inspection issues?”
“I had the inspector come out when we took the listing. There was some termite damage, but I fixed it.”
“You know, Kathy, one would think all Realtors would do that, but you’d be very surprised at how many people I’ve had working here who wait until the sale to inspect. And how many sales get reduced or simply go away because some cranky guy with a tool belt says a floor is raised or there’s a water spot. You’re really on the ball to do that first. Who paid for the termite fix?”
“We did. But I added it back in the price. Actually, I tripled it.”
“So we made money on the termites?”
“Yes, sir.”
Clyde sure did like her. He had a daughter ten years older than Kathy who’d gotten hooked on downers, and he’d spent a lot of money and worry trying to get her clean. His daughter finally moved to Canada and married a waiter, and Clyde hated to admit it, but he was happy when she became someone else’s problem. He saw her once a year at Christmas and she always looked fine, but he stopped asking if she was off drugs. When she had a child, Clyde just assumed she’d cleaned up, but he didn’t want details. And the funny thing was, he usually loved asking personal questions. He thought it was the one thing that made him successful at his business. He used to say, “The better you know someone, the better you can sell them the right house.” It just didn’t apply to his daughter.
Clyde met Max Leonard only one time and, of course, hated him. Even though Max feigned politeness for Kathy’s sake, Clyde saw right through it. When Max left, Clyde couldn’t help himself. “How long have you known that man?”
“A while.”
“I see. Are you in love with him?”
“Am I in love with him?”
“When you repeat a question it always means no.”
“It means no?”
“Boy, you really don’t like this guy.”
“I am in love with him. He has been very good to me and I love him.”
Clyde smiled. “Okay. What does he do?”
How could Kathy get into this with Clyde Folsom? What should she say? He’s head of an organization that wants people like you dead? That wouldn’t come off right. “He’s an organizer.”
“What kind of organizer?”
“He works with the younger generations. He’s trying to make things fair.” Kathy hoped that would put an end to it, but of course it didn’t.
“What’s unfair, exactly?”
Kathy knew the answer and was capable of having this conversation, but here was a man who was giving her this terrific shot at independence, and what good would it do to get into this with him? Fortunately, as she was thinking of a way out, her wrist vibrated. “It’s my client. We can discuss it later, but it’s pretty boring.”
“That’s okay. Go back to work. But if you feel like talking I’m always here.”
“Thanks. I know that.” And when Kathy walked away, she realized how much Clyde made her miss her dad. This was the first time since Kathy lost her father that she felt like she was standing on her own two feet. She felt that Brian and Max, the men who had filled up the last few years of her life, were there primarily to lean on. And Kathy didn’t even know who she was when she wasn’t leaning. But that was changing. One of the things she was looking forward to the most was paying Max back the money. He kept saying it was a gift, but she didn’t want that; it made her feel like a child, which she hated.
Late that afternoon, when she closed the deal on the house, she wrote a check to Max Leonard for fifteen thousand dollars and decided to surprise him. It was only a small part of what he’d loaned her but it was a start, and that was important. Checks were not really used that much anymore, but they were still accepted, and it was still a meaningful way to hand someone a large amount of money.
Ever since Kathy had come unannounced to Max’s house and looked in the window, ever since she’d seen the Sam Mueller wall, she always called first before coming over. She didn’t want any more surprises. But this time she thought it would be great to appear at his door with a check and a kiss.
When she pulled up to Max’s house there were two motorcycles and three other vehicles parked in the driveway. There was also an electric scooter by the front door. Loud music was coming from the inside and Kathy froze for a minute. Is he having a p
arty? Is he cheating? Maybe coming here was a bad idea. But before she could change her mind, Max saw her through the window and came outside. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“I was driving home and I had a surprise.”
“A surprise? Great. Come in.”
He gave her a quick hug and told her he was having a meeting with his associates but she was welcome to stay, at least for a little while. When Kathy walked inside there were six guys sitting around the living room, drinking and obviously in the middle of some kind of discussion. There were pictures and maps and what looked like a large model of a ship.
“What’s that?” Kathy asked.
“That’s a boat. Andre built it.” Max pointed to one of the men. Kathy didn’t know any of them except Louie. Louie looked bigger than she remembered. Whatever drugs he was taking, they made his head look huge. The other men looked foreign, either from Mexico or Europe or somewhere in Asia, Kathy couldn’t tell.
“Why did he build the boat?” she asked.
Max’s smile left his face. He wasn’t in the mood for Twenty Questions. “He’s a model maker. It’s what he does.”
Kathy sensed she was not welcome. She said she was sorry to interrupt, that she would call Max later. As she headed for the door, Max followed her, and when they got outside she gave him the check.
“What is this?” he asked.
“It’s the surprise. I’m going to be able to pay you back. I just wanted you to know.”
“I told you it was a gift.”
“I know, but I want to pay you back.” Max looked at the check and tore it up.
“I don’t want the fucking money back. It’s yours. You don’t return a gift. That’s rude.”
“Max, it was too much money. I’m doing well now; I want to pay you back.”
“I don’t want it back! Give it to that old fuck you work with. It will be that much less he’ll steal from us!” Max was on something. His temper was too short and he looked irritated. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and walked to her car. She had a terrible knot in her stomach.
When Kathy got home there was a message from him. She always thought Max acted phony on his messages. Some people forgot they were being recorded and were just natural and other people acted for the camera. Max always seemed so theatrical whenever his face appeared on her screen. “Hey,” he said. “Sorry if I was rude, but I really don’t want the money back. It was a gift and let’s leave it at that. I’m also going out of town for a few days and I’ll see you when I get back. Take care.”
And that was it. No “I love you” or any other salutations, just “take care.” Kathy played it back, zooming in on his eyes. His pupils were like saucers. He was loaded. Some sort of speedy cocktail. She had noticed this months earlier, but before she could say anything, it stopped. Now it was back. These friends of his were obviously bad influences.
Kathy was tempted to get him on the screen and have it out at that very moment, but she didn’t. This had been her best day at work and she didn’t want to ruin it by having a big argument. She erased his message—she never liked to keep messages, anyway—and decided to treat herself to a bath and a glass of wine. She would make an effort to keep the good part of her day going as long as she could.
* * *
Laura Markum was now officially Laura Li. Over the decades women had vacillated between keeping their name or using their husband’s name, or using some combination of both. But she didn’t like Laura Markum-Li; she didn’t like hyphenates, for one, and she had another reason. She thought her husband was capable of almost anything and that it would only help him to have a world-class American dame by his side, and with a Chinese last name at that. “Confuse ’em all,” she would say.
Laura was a born producer. She was known as a brilliant prosecutor, but what gave her the most pleasure was pulling strings behind the scenes and watching the results. She had always been attractive and had a strong ego, so she wasn’t looking for public validation. When she watched her father in the Senate she saw how some of the senators were always in front of the camera and others stayed in the background, but the ones in the background seemed to have all the power. That was who she wanted to be.
Li, on the other hand, loved the limelight. He loved the fame he gained in China and loved it even more in America. He thought that the more people knew his name, the easier it would be to get his ideas across. And Laura agreed. The first thing she did was to increase the number of his speaking engagements and also to raise his fee.
It was Laura herself who called Paul Prescott and suggested her husband be the key speaker at the big AARP winter meeting. It was going to be in Florida, and was the biggest event they held all year.
“I’m sorry, the vice president is already booked,” Paul said.
“Shen will have a greater impact on these people. He will address their health concerns directly, and you can’t tell me that any of them are not dying, excuse the pun, to know how Los Angeles is reshaping their lives.” Paul thought a moment.
“May I get back to you?”
“Quickly. We have more offers during that time period than we can even consider. My husband would rather speak to the Economic Forum but this is my idea. I think AARP needs to hear what he has to say.”
“I’ll get back to you no later than tomorrow.”
“I will hear from you then.” Laura disconnected. She was no-nonsense about this kind of thing. She knew who her husband was and knew what a hot ticket his lectures had become. But she also knew how powerful AARP was in Washington, and she wanted this engagement.
Paul Prescott walked into Robert Golden’s office and told him about his conversation. “Don’t we have the vice president?” Golden asked.
“I think this is a better choice. We already had the president; the vice president might seem like a letdown. I think Li will address their needs directly, and he is married to a senator’s daughter and is becoming world famous. I believe we can make his appearance sound like a much bigger event than the vice president.”
“But we’ve already told people what a coup getting the vice president was. What do we say now?”
“We say that because of what is happening in Los Angeles and all of the success out there that we have just found out that Shen Li has canceled his speech in China and is able to come to Florida and speak to us.”
“He’ll cancel the China speech?”
“There is no China speech. You asked me what we would tell people and I gave you an example.”
“Hey, you’re good! And what do we tell the vice president?”
Prescott thought a moment. “We tell him we got someone bigger. He’s used to that.”
* * *
The Sunset had left the port of Long Beach and was cruising to Miami through the Panama Canal. The canal was still one of the wonders of the world and people aboard the retirement ship loved moving through the locks and watching it all happen. Brad Miller likened it to sitting in his dad’s car going through the car wash.
The Panama Canal had had a major reconstruction that lasted twenty years, and now the widened locks could handle all cruise ships and most supertankers. A new class of supertanker had at first been too big for any canal, but the Koreans had had an idea: Their new supertankers would actually be two ships, joined in the middle. The ships could separate and both navigate on their own, or join up and form one ultralong vessel. This not only worked great going through canals but allowed the huge ship to travel the ocean as one and then break up and dock in two separate ports to unload cargo. It was known as a SplitShip and it became the new workhorse of international trade.
The day The Sunset was moving through the canal there was a SplitShip from India. Everybody gathered on deck to watch. It looked so funny. Half a supertanker moving slowly through the locks, while the other half was waiting on the other side. To watch them join up was really something. When the two halves came together, they made the same sound that blast doors at NORAD made when they closed,
a low, massive thud that could be heard for miles, and then, as if by magic, the ship was one again. People sat on the deck of The Sunset and applauded when it happened. And it was all they could talk about at dinner.
Brad Miller was pleased that everything was turning out better than he thought it would. He liked his friends and looked forward to seeing them each day. And he loved having a lady in his life. There were no younger people around, except some of the crew, and they were paid to smile at the seniors. But no one missed young people. It became very easy to forget about the real world and just live on this floating universe.
“Let the young folks have the land,” Brad would say. “We’ll take the ocean.”
When the ship pulled into Miami the residents were warned to be careful. They were told that when they went ashore they needed to go in groups, as there were youth gangs that would prey on the olds. They were always given that same warning, but this time it sounded more serious. Another retirement ship that had just pulled out of port had had a homicide: One of its residents was knifed at a local restaurant. But the people on The Sunset weren’t too concerned because they really didn’t leave the ship very often and, when they did, they went en masse. Sometimes a hundred people would go together and cling like a school of fish. It was almost impossible to get robbed if you moved around like that, but the truth was, the longer they lived on board, the less they wanted to get off anyway. They got tired of buying the stupid hats and T-shirts and other souvenirs in the Bahamas or Mexico. Unless there was a big event or some unusual attraction, the residents of The Sunset enjoyed just staying “home.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The time had come for Matthew Bernstein to make a decision. Would he run again? It was never really a question, but it had to be addressed officially so fund-raising could start in earnest.
Normally, this would be a conversation he would have with his wife, but they were not communicating. Though Betsy was fulfilling her duties as First Lady, she had moved to another bedroom, and for the first time in their marriage she and her husband no longer slept together. This was not unheard of, but usually when presidents and their spouses slept separately they had been doing so before they reached the White House. When they started out sleeping in the same bed and then wound up in separate rooms, well, that caused people to talk.
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