“My vag hurts like a motherfucker,” she said.
“It wasn’t that bad,” Nick said, a little too heartily.
He’d refused to cut the umbilical cord and had all but passed out during the final stages of delivery. Caroline might be a wuss but her husband was ten times worse. She was going to milk every ounce of sympathy while she could.
“I’m going to be sitting on an inflatable tube for weeks,” she grumbled.
“It wasn’t that bad,” Nick repeated, giving her a proud smile. “You did great.”
She’d let him compliment her. Because she had done great. She’d kicked labor’s ass and taken its name, even without effective painkillers. All she needed was a piece of celebratory bubble gum. But they’d taken Marguerite to the nursery and she wanted her baby back. Caroline didn’t relax until one of the recovery nurses returned a few minutes later with a freshly washed baby in her arms. The nurse handed Marguerite to Nick, who looked overwhelmed. Captivated by the sight, Caroline let her giddy fatigue overtake her.
“We totally made that,” she said, and started laughing uncontrollably.
Nick turned to the nurse. “I think it’s time to remove the epidural. She’s been saying some weird stuff.”
The nurse stared at him. “They took it out over an hour ago.”
“Oh,” he said. “Then I guess she’s crazy.”
The nurse laughed. “It happens. Are you ready to fly solo when your wife passes out?”
“I won’t pass out,” Caroline said. “I’m ready to go another ten rounds, yo.”
“I give you fifteen minutes,” the nurse said. “I’ll be back to check on you before that.”
Caroline was asleep in five.
* * * * *
It took her almost four years. Four years of colic and terrible twos and worse threes and whiny toddlerhood before Caroline could talk Nicky into having another child. They were young. They could have waited. But both of them were advancing in their careers and Caroline didn’t want to wait much longer. She wanted Marguerite to be close enough in age to her new sibling to feel protective and affectionate as opposed to detached.
The process hadn’t been easy. Her second pregnancy proved much more difficult than the first. More morning sickness. More fatigue. Caroline went into labor more than a month before her due date. Nothing was packed, no car seat was installed, no plans had been made. They scrambled to get to the hospital and sure enough, her water broke in the car. Nicky’s bemused anger turned to concern in the triage area when both Caroline and the baby had an unexpected dip in blood pressure.
Sophie’s traumatic entry into the world had been entirely too hasty for Caroline’s taste. The emergency C-section scared the shit out of both her and Nick, but it was over and they had another healthy child. There was little to complain about except for the changes that would come with adding another outspoken newborn to the family.
“Tell me why we did this again,” Nick said.
“Because we’re wonderful parents?”
“No,” he grunted, carrying the car seat up the stairs. Who knew why he hadn’t taken the baby out first? He was a glutton for punishment. “Tell me for real why we decided to do this.”
The simplest explanation was probably the most exasperating. “Mo wanted a sister. It was only fair.”
“Lucky for her I came through with the right sperm.” Nick unstrapped Sophie from the carrier. Marguerite came toddling into the room behind him.
“Where are you putting my sister?” she demanded. “I wanna see her.”
“You just saw her in the car,” Caroline said. “And you met her in the hospital. Remember?”
Her eldest daughter made a face. “She cried a lot.”
Caroline was afraid Sophie was going to be even more colicky than Mo. She was fine with babbling and eagerly observant eyes but crying for no reason was a stressor she didn’t want or need. It was the kind of newborn behavior that Nicky hated. His fuse was shorter than his wife’s and he wasn’t as good at blocking out the noise.
Nick handed the baby to Caroline. “I’ll go downstairs and start organizing.”
He was going to leave her there? Alone? “You’re abandoning me with two small children?” she asked. “I can barely walk.”
“You can holler.” He grinned. “You’d never lose that skill.”
She gave him a half smile as he headed toward the door. “Get out of here. Bring us some snacks.”
Nick bowed. “Yes, your highness.”
Marguerite scampered across the room to her mother. “I want to hold the baby. I’m big enough.”
Caroline settled into the rocking chair in the corner of their unfinished nursery. Yes, they had certainly been on top of things. “You are?” she asked, trying not to grin.
“I lifted a whole gallon of milk yesterday. Nana didn’t have to help or anything.”
Nick’s parents. Who had agreed to stay in a hotel for the next couple of days. Caroline had reached her in-law quota for the year already. “Your sister’s a little different than a container of milk,” she said.
Marguerite scowled. “I want to hold the baby!”
“Maybe in a little bit,” Caroline said. “You can come closer, though.”
“What’s her name?”
“I told you yesterday.”
“I forgot.” Marguerite put her hands on her hips. “I’m only four, mommy.”
Caroline tried not to laugh. A very sharp witted and contradictory four year old. “This is Sophie,” she said.
“So Feef?”
“Sophie,” Caroline corrected. “Sophie Jeannette.”
“So Feef Juh Net?”
She wasn’t going to argue about it. Not when she hadn’t slept in two days. “Eh, close enough. Keep trying, kid. You’ll get it.”
Marguerite leaned in and fingered the blanket draped across her sister. Caroline and Nick needed to work on improving their rusty swaddling skills.
“Hi Feef,” she whispered. She glanced up at Caroline when her prodding received no response. “She doesn’t do much.”
“She’s little. She’s got some catching up to do. You’ll be bouncing around with her soon enough.”
“Can we play tea party?”
Caroline laughed. “Maybe in a few years.”
“I won’t feed her real tea. Just pretend.”
Of course she’d be careful. She’d have to learn to play gently and remember that Sophie was a baby, but Marguerite would be just fine.
“Are you going to be a good big sister?” Caroline asked.
Marguerite beamed. “I’m gonna be the best big sister ever.”
Caroline tucked Marguerite’s hair behind her ear and kissed the top of her head. “Good.”
Chapter Three
The Past
Caroline twiddled her thumbs, occasionally slipping from spot to spot on the couch. She stared down at her watch.
“You need to stop doing that,” Nick said.
“Doing what?”
“Checking the time. It’s not going to make things go any faster. Or slower, depending on how you feel about it.”
Her husband always noticed her nervous tics. “Do you think they’ll show up?” she asked.
“Why wouldn’t they?”
Because the last few politicos who’d returned her calls hadn’t bothered stopping by, even when they’d set up a meeting time. It was unbelievably dispiriting and even more unprofessional, in Caroline’s opinion.
“No one else has,” she said.
“Those were flukes, hon. The kind of jackasses you don’t want anywhere near you, regardless.”
A rather magnanimous statement coming from a man who was probably secretly hoping that the two women who were supposed to arrive in fifteen minutes weren’t going to show.
“You should play this straight,” he said. “People aren’t exactly lining up on our doorstep.”
Caroline hadn’t had the chance to show anyone much of anything. Nicky seemed to rea
lize that this might be her only shot. “Are you saying I need to be more serious?” she asked.
“Not serious. Be honest. Be forthright. Be yourself. You’ll know if they’re the right ones.”
Or the only ones. Thinking about it made Caroline angry all over again. She didn’t like being blown off. And the big names hadn’t really been chomping at the bit to get to her.
She hadn’t taken a leave of absence from her job but she’d heard the rumblings. She’d never gotten involved in local politics because of the restrictions placed upon her by her job. Couldn’t write impassioned letters to the editor. Couldn’t attend rallies or fundraisers. Couldn’t endorse anyone. Couldn’t do anything to imply that a representative of the Department of Justice was lending support to a candidate. She very quietly gave money, kept her mouth shut, and formed relationships with defense attorneys and court staffers who shared her views. They’d help her when the time was right because she’d earned their respect and trust.
She was an upstart, a nobody. All she had to her name were a series of well-publicized trials against gang members, human traffickers, and potential terrorists. She was highly regarded in the legal community but an unknown in most political circles. That didn’t stop her from wanting to try. She’d been waiting for this moment and it had arrived, even if she was constantly second-guessing herself.
Nick took her hand. “If you want to do this, I’m behind you. You’ll find the people you need.”
Wonderful, supportive words, but they’d had more than one loud argument about her plans. She had a secure job. A great career. A quiet life. Did she want to disrupt it for a long shot campaign? She likely wouldn’t make it out of the primary. Though dogged by scandal, the incumbent was a Democratic member of Congress in a very blue district. It would take a miracle to pull off anything other than an embarrassing defeat. The kind that would leave her retreating with her tail between her legs, never to be heard from again.
Caroline appreciated her husband’s change of heart even if it came with some reservations. He wasn’t quite there but she had time to win him over on the idea. The primary was almost a year away. “I have to try,” she said softly. “I can’t explain it.”
“I know.” The baby monitor next to them started squealing, and Nick sighed. Sophie took terribly short naps. “Looks like our little angel has arisen. I’ll go get her and you check on Mo.”
Their eldest daughter had been playing a bit too quietly in their supposedly childproofed living room. Caroline went to check it out. There were toys scattered everywhere but it looked like everything was in one piece.
Marguerite flounced over to her mother. “Wanna see the picture I drew you?”
Caroline surveyed the mess. Maybe her children had too much stuff. “In a minute, Mo Mo. Can we clean this up a little? Mommy’s got guests coming over.”
“Can I fix your hair first?” Marguerite held up a well-worn brush.
She checked her watch again. T-minus twelve minutes. Plenty of time to let Mo play around with her hair then dash into the bathroom to fix it again. She felt badly about snubbing what was undoubtedly a fine piece of artwork. She owed Marguerite something before she ignored her for the next hour or so.
“Sure,” Caroline said, plopping down on the carpet next to her daughter. “Make me beautiful.”
Marguerite started brushing her hair down in front of her face. “You’re always pretty, mommy.”
The innocence of a child. “Even when I’m telling you that you’re being naughty?”
Marguerite started rearranging Caroline’s part. “Maybe not then. Can I give you a ponytail?”
“Do you know how to make a ponytail?”
“I can learn. I’m a good learner. I kinda know how.”
Indeed she was. Caroline and Nick had discussed testing her to see just how high her IQ was. She wasn’t bored in kindergarten, so they decided to put it off for a bit. But there were times when Marguerite amazed them with her capacity for retaining information.
Caroline tried not to wince when her daughter yanked at her hair. “Slow down, darling. You don’t have to pull all of mommy’s hair out.”
Marguerite giggled. “I’m not pulling it out. I’m making it look glamorous.”
Glamorous? “Where did you learn that word?”
“I read it in one of the magazines in the bathroom.”
Caroline was going to have to stop leaving her old issues of Entertainment Weekly lying around where small children could find them. She made a mental note to hide her copy of The Joy of Sex. If Marguerite snooped in the master bedroom and found it, Caroline would have to plan discussions she wasn’t willing to have until her children were fully grown. She winced again, feeling a tight rubber band at the nape of her neck. She didn’t want to think about how many of her auburn hairs were now on the floor or stuck in the brush.
“Finished!” Marguerite announced.
Caroline patted the back of her head. Not a bad job, but not all that good either. Half of her hair was hanging down. “You’re getting there. Do you think you can do that for yourself?”
“I gotta practice some more on you.”
Caroline would definitely be bald by the time her daughter finished her hairstyling lessons. As she tried to let down the hairdo, she discovered that the rubber band was stuck. Fantastic.
“Mo, help me with this,” she said, motioning for the brush. “Get mommy a pair of scissors too.”
“That’s dangerous. I’m not allowed to touch the scissors.”
Caroline glanced at her watch, tugging at the back of her head. “It’s okay. Just this one time.”
She heard someone clear their throat and looked across the room. Two young women were standing by her husband, trying very hard not to laugh. Her guests had arrived. Ninjas, the both of them, since she hadn’t heard a damn thing. Nicky and Sophie had managed to be quiet too, for some miraculous reason. How convenient.
And the two women looked so incredibly not even close to her age. Were they in college? They couldn’t be in high school. Should she offer them a glass of wine as a test? She really was scraping the bottom of the barrel.
Caroline straightened up. Her floppy hair was a lost cause. As was her political career, most likely. “Uh, hi.”
The one who seemed better able to contain her laughter strode forward, extending a hand to help Caroline off the floor. “I’m Genevieve Whitcomb,” she said. “We spoke on the phone.” She gestured toward her companion, who was trying to hide a grin behind a not so subtle cough. “That’s Kathleen Thalberg.”
The other woman rushed over, the grin remaining plastered to her face. “Katie,” she said. “Don’t call me anything else. And call her Jen. Genevieve sounds so pretentious.”
Caroline tried not to glare at Nick. Her half undone ponytail made her look a mess. “You could have given me a little warning.”
He shrugged. “They were early.”
Kathleen smiled at Caroline. “I love your hair.” She crouched down by Marguerite. “Did you do that?”
Marguerite couldn’t contain her pride. “I sure did.”
“Can you fix my hair that way too?”
Marguerite gave Kathleen a curious look. “It’s too short.”
“You can do a bunch of little ponytails,” Kathleen said. “I’m planning on dying it blue next week so you can make it look super pretty.”
Marguerite laughed. “Blue hair? I like the way it is now. It’s the same color as mine.”
Kathleen blew out a breath that feathered her bangs. “I get bored with blond. I like to live on the edge.”
Marguerite turned to Caroline. “Can she come over next week?”
“We can talk about that later,” Jen said. “We didn’t come here for a play date.”
Kathleen stood back up after tweaking Marguerite’s ear. “Says you.”
Professional. Caroline had to be professional. Even if a prospective staffer had been talking about hair dye with her five year old. She yanked
the band free and pulled her hair into a proper ponytail. “Shall we go into the dining room?”
“Sure,” Nick said, plopping Sophie down on the floor. “Mo, can you keep an eye on your sister?”
At least one more disaster would occur before the afternoon was over. But they’d be able to see the girls from the dining room table.
Marguerite started picking out age appropriate toys for her little sister. “I’ll watch her, daddy.”
Nick glanced back at them and settled into one of the formal chairs, taking the résumés he was offered. Caroline doubted he’d look at them. Not when he didn’t know what he was supposed to be looking for. She grabbed copies for herself and took the seat next to him, with Jen and Katie across the table.
She scanned the documents quickly. Kathleen was entering her senior year and Jen was working towards a master’s degree, though their backgrounds were impressive. Both of them had started working on campaigns before they could vote. Caroline admired that sort of behavior. “You’re still in school,” she said.
Jen raised an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” Caroline said hastily, desperate not to chase them away. “You have more experience than I did at that point in my academic career.”
Kathleen pulled her Blackberry out of her bag and started typing. “Is it okay if I take notes?”
Maybe Caroline and Nick were part of a sociology experiment. Or a rich practical joke. Because this was not starting well, at all. “That’s fine,” she said.
“No point in wasting anyone’s time. May as well ask the big question first. Why are you running for Congress?” Jen asked.
“Considering running for Congress,” Nick broke in.
The eyebrow raised again. Caroline suspected that by the end of the conversation Jen’s forehead would be permanently furrowed.
Jen smiled. “Not quite on board yet?”
Nick smiled back at her. He could turn on the charm when he had to. “Not quite.”
The Bellator Saga: The First Trilogy (Dissident, Conscience, and Sojourn) Page 67