Cocky Senator's Daughter: Hannah Cocker (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 8)

by Faleena Hopkins

  I look into Hannah’s eyes. She has no idea what to make of this, but I’m hoping she’ll remember it, years from now.

  Into the mic I explain, “I’ve just met this beautiful young lady today. Her mother was taken from her two night’s ago in an accident.”

  The crowd reacts.

  I hold up my hand to quiet them.

  “Those videos you’re recording on your phones, please post them everywhere you can so that the truth will be out there and the media can’t twist it. This beauty is my daughter.”

  Gasps wave throughout the auditorium.

  The whispers begin.

  Ignoring them I continue, “We never had a chance to meet because I was a fucking asshole and didn’t deserve her.”

  A hell of a lot more whispers spread out.

  To my daughter I apologize, “I’m sorry, Hannah, but your daddy swears.” I direct the rest into the microphone, “I want everyone to hear it from me that it was my fault her mother didn’t tell me. She knew I wasn’t ready, and that I’d harshly judge her, which would have been a grave error. It is a symptom of sickness in our society that when we should be coming together, communicating in ways we’ve either forgotten how to or have never known how to, we stay quiet. We hide from responsibility. I know there are a lot of fatherless children out there because of this. And it needs to stop. It’s stopping with me today. I’ve been asking you to put your trust in me. Well that’s all good and fine to ask for something. But I need to deserve that trust. And if I haven’t shown that I deserve it in my personal relationships with good women like Tanny Walters – the mother of my child – then I don’t deserve it from you yet. I have to apologize, and hope that you will be there for me when the next election comes around.” People’s eyes widen as they realize what I’m doing. “I’m withdrawing my name from the Senatorial race in order to spend time with my daughter.”

  The audience goes nuts.

  Kissing her soft hair I whisper, “Maybe you don’t know what just happened, but know this. I’m going to make up the last five years to you even if it takes me a lifetime to do it.”

  As I walk off the stage with insanity and chaos behind me, Senator Rothdale and I meet eyes. He’s as dumbfounded as everyone else is, but like my father he’s a seasoned politician. He nods with grace, his posture perfect.

  “Senator,” I say, conceding the loss with a respectful nod.

  “Mr. Cocker,” the Senator returns, his voice grave.

  My eyes lock with Jaimie’s next. She’s slowly shaking her head like she can’t believe it. The urge to go to her is so strong I can’t stop my legs. She and I stare at each other a moment before her eyes flit to Hannah’s quiet face, then back to me. “You’ve done a good job, Ms. Rothdale. He would have won anyway.”

  “Justin…” she whispers, stunned.

  “Excuse me.” I turn to look for Claire Walters. Hannah sees her sitting nearby in a nondescript wheelchair and reaches for her, so I place her onto her grandmother’s lap. They hug, with Claire’s eyelashes rising to gaze at me with gratitude.

  “I don’t know what to say!”

  “Mrs. Walters, I want to bring you to Atlanta for care so Hannah can be with you as much as possible…while she can.”

  Her face contorts with tears. “That would be wonderful. Thank you! I really don’t know what to say.”

  I really need Jason to get here.

  Jaimie

  My mind is spinning as I watch Justin avoid reporters while he pushes the wheelchair out of the auditorium. From her frailty I know that woman is dying. She looks like my mother during the last weeks of her life.

  The tragedy of this is so deep and layered. God, my heart, I’m aching to help. The way he just looked at me, he was begging for my help. He was in pain, confused.

  I know how much he loves politics.

  He just postponed his dream.

  A female staffer whispers, “He was amazing out there,” to someone behind me.

  I stiffen and look over as a male staffer agrees, “Fucking crazy, but he showed up for it, you know?”

  Blinking forward I try to listen to my father’s speech. He’s at the microphone. What is he saying?

  “Justin Cocker showed us today that when we are given the opportunity to take responsibility for our actions the people who rise to the challenge no matter the cost are the people who deserve our admiration and respect. I am proud to have been here in Savannah with Mr. Cocker today. And I look forward to seeing him in Washington when the time is right.”

  The crowd cheers. They’re moved by Justin’s bowing down from the nomination, and they think highly of my father for respecting it, too.

  There are two weeks to go before the election, with Atlanta’s speaking event plus plenty of radio interviews. The Democrat opponent isn’t a threat. The race is essentially over, though I know Dad will keep the engagements on his schedule. He will probably talk about Justin’s surprising exit from the race. I’m sure reporters will ask him how he feels about it, time and again.

  I wonder if it will anger him to keep talking about Justin, or if it will embolden him to look at his own methods in a new light, and make changes.

  As he waves to everyone, I glance to the doors where Justin disappeared.

  I wish I were with him.

  “You’re still thinking of him?”

  My head whips around. “Excuse me?”

  With a knowing look Dad says, “Jaimie, if you think I don’t know a crush when I see one, you don’t remember how old I am, and how much I’ve seen.”

  Embarrassed, I glance down at my hands. “He’s impressive.”

  “Mmm. Did you want to stay in Savannah a bit longer or go home?”

  “I miss my house, if I’m honest.”

  Dad’s expression is distant, too, both of us processing the day’s events in different ways. He stares off a moment and then asks an odd question.

  “Have you planted anything?”

  “Sorry?”

  “In your new home.”

  Unsure of where this has come from, I shrug, “When have I had the time? I haven’t even thought of it. Why do you ask?”

  “I remember you writing to me once and telling me you loved plants. Do you still?”

  “I guess I do.”

  Dad nods, glancing away. “Maybe you should take it up again, Jaimie. You’ve bought your own home. Make it what you want.”

  Reporters call out his name, surrounding us. “Senator Rothdale, would you like to comment on Justin Cocker’s—”

  He holds up his hand and shouts, “Not today! Call my secretary.” They’re not giving up that easily, and more questions are shouted at us. Dad lowers his voice and asks me, “Do you have everything?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s get out of here.” He takes my elbow and leads me through the throng. As the sunlight hits our faces and we head for his driver, I watch my father’s profile, surprised he abstained from comment. He loves to talk to reporters. He enjoys the limelight, always has. What is he thinking? And what was that about my loving plants? I was so little when I went through that phase, I’m surprised he remembered. I had completely forgotten.

  Justin

  Right after my speech.

  My driver jumps out of the car, surprised to see me, and that I have company. Familiar voices shout my name. I look over my shoulder to see all four of my cousins running out with my Aunt Anna and Uncle Dave. I forgot they were coming.

  The six of them barrel through the reporters, protectively shouting to get back and leave us alone. “Justin, you okay?” Jameson asks me as he grabs my shoulder.

  “That was so amazing,” Jocelyn whispers, staring at my daughter. Mystified, she whispers, “Hi.”

  “Oh my God, Justin,” Aunt Anna whispers. “Does your mother know?”

  Shaking my head, I tell her, “I just found out. Nobody knows. Jason is on his way here.”

  “MR. COCKER!” Reporters shout.

  Jordan yells, “GIV
E IT A REST. GO! GET OUT OF HERE!” To me, he says, “Get in the car. They’re not going to let up.”

  “I know. I’ll call you guys later after we get settled.”

  My family nods. Aunt Anna grabs me for a quick hug. “So proud of you!” Together they create a wall to protect the three of us from the reporters as my name is shouted alongside questions I force myself to ignore. It pains me to be walking away from this race. I am dying inside, despite how calm I must appear.

  “We love you, Justin!” Jocelyn yells through cupped hands as the car pulls away.

  My driver takes us first to the nursing home for Claire’s belongings. I speak to the doctors and she has to sign forms that she is willingly coming with me to Atlanta and will not hold them liable if she were to die on the way there. As she signs, I stare at her bony wrists. “Mrs. Walters, you were very brave to come to me today.”

  Setting down the ballpoint pen she glances to me and holds my eyes. “When you love someone, they give you the courage.”

  When we arrive at the modest apartment Tanny lived in with her daughter, Claire rests in the car, the motor running to keep the air conditioning on. It’s muggy and hot today, as last night’s unexpected warmth indicated it’d be.

  Hannah and I go in to collect her clothes. I will have to hire someone to empty out the apartment. I’ll have to contact her landlord, too. Not sure if they’ve been notified about her death. When I asked Claire she said she wasn’t sure, either.

  I’m selective about the clothes I tear off hangers and pull from drawers. I’ll be taking her shopping. “Any of these your favorites?”

  She points at a Hello Kitty dress and a pair of UGG boots that are fucking adorable. “Good choice,” I smile, grabbing a tote bag for shoes and tossing a pair of sandals and shiny little dress shoes in, too. “You like those?” Hannah nods. “Me too.”

  Hannah’s silence abruptly ends when I pick up a doll. “Not that one!”

  Glancing over in surprise I hold it up. “You don’t like her?”

  Clutching the alien, Hannah wildly shakes her head.

  “Okay. Bye doll.” Twisting my torso as I scan the room I spot a stuffed pig and elephant. With quick strides I swoop them up. “How about these?”

  “Mr. Piggles,” she whispers.

  To the elephant I mutter, “Sorry buddy. She’s the boss,” and toss it onto the bed.

  I kneel in front of the short bookshelf and slide out a skinny, children’s book. “How about this?”

  “That’s for kids,” she frowns.

  “Oh, okay.” Running my fingers over the spines I say, “Tell me when to stop.”

  She whispers, “Mommy read me that one.”

  “The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C. S. Lewis. I read this one, too, Hannah. You liked it?”

  “They live in a painting!”

  I nod, “Yes, for a little while they did. You must be very smart for her to have read big books like this to you.”

  She makes a face like I’m an idiot. “I’m five!”

  Chuckling, I mutter, “Right. What was I thinking?”

  Now that I’ve stuffed the one suitcase I could find full of everything’s she’s deemed worthy of this voyage, I zip it and throw the tote bag over my shoulder so I can take Hannah’s hand.

  All those years I’ve planned.

  All the speeches and how well I was doing.

  How often I felt I might win.

  Everything has changed.

  Hannah tugs my hand through the apartment but then lets go, her focus on the kitchen. “What is it?” I ask. She runs to the refrigerator and points at photos too high for her to reach.

  Leaving the suitcase behind, I walk over to discover a dozen or more snapshots of Tanny and Hannah. Scanning over them is like watching Hannah growing up. My lips part on a picture of Tanny holding her as a newborn in the delivery room, grinning with sweat-matted hair. Oh fuck, that one kills me. There’s one where Hannah as an infant sleeps in her crib with that pink alien tucked up against her body, only then it was new and very furry. There’s one of Hannah at maybe three, opening Christmas presents with bows stuck to her head. One of her screaming down a slide that Tanny must have taken as she waited for her at the bottom. One at a festival not long ago because Hannah looks the same age she does today. Their faces are painted with whiskers and glitter. Tanny’s making a funny face while Hannah laughs.

  My voice is hoarse as I tell the daughter I never had the chance to see grow up, “We’ll take all of these.”

  She slowly follows me back to the suitcase where I’ve gone ahead to slide her memories into the flat zipper pocket on the outside. Straightening up I extend my hand. Hannah takes it without hesitation, which blows my mind.

  Outside, the driver takes the suitcase and tote bag from me, walking them to the trunk. I help Hannah inside and she climbs in next to her grandmother. When we pull away from the curb, I lower my voice. “Claire, I want to record as many stories about Tanny as you can remember. Audio or video, I don’t care, but we have to do it.”

  She’s the only link to Hannah’s mother now. I barely knew Tanny. When Hannah grows up and asks me questions, I’ll have no answers to give her. It would be like Tanny never existed, and that’s not right.

  Claire touches my hand and whispers, “Thank you,” turning her grief toward the window.

  Justin

  At The Bohemian I’ve left word with the front desk for Jason to meet me in the bar when he gets here. Claire is sleeping in my room while Hannah watches television there. My Savannah driver has gone home with extra money in his pockets to ensure his silence. From the respect I saw in his eyes as he objected, I’ve little fear he’ll spill details about this morning to anyone. Nothing was done that I’m ashamed about – I just want to protect Hannah as much as I can. The media can be vicious or kind, and you never know which until it happens.

  “Justin!”

  I look over with relief as Jason explodes into the bar. We embrace as I tell him, “Thank you for getting here so quickly. Did you bring the Escalade?”

  “Yeah, what else would I drive? My phone blew up but I turned it off. Something told me to hear it from you, first. Are you sick? God, please don’t tell me you’re sick. Did you find a lump somewhere or something? It’s in your balls isn’t it? I knew something was wrong even before you called. I had that gut feeling, you know?”

  “I’m healthy. My balls are fine. Sit down, Jason.” I call out to the cocktail waitress, “Can you bring some water for my brother, too? Thanks.” We sit next to each other at a secluded table. He’s staring at me like the suspense might kill him if I don’t get on with it. “Remember Tanny?”

  He frowns, “Tanny Walters? Waitress at Hob Nob and then The Vortex. I remember her, yeah.”

  “She died two nights ago.”

  “Oh my God. How?”

  “She was walking home from work, in dark clothes and someone didn’t see her.”

  “Fuck! That’s terrible. But why are you this upset about it? God, I haven’t seen her in, what, four years? How about you?”

  “It wasn’t four. It was almost six. Remember when Jake first met Drew? We were twenty-seven, or almost. We had dinner at The Vortex. Remember I disappeared with Tanny, and you guys gave me a hard time?”

  “You did that a bunch of times so I barely remember the one, but okay. Didn’t you guys hook up more than once?”

  Ruefully, I nod. “We did. That was the last time.”

  Jason mutters to himself, “Was that really almost six years ago? Yeah, I guess it was. Emma’s three now. Ethan’s just born. Sofia and Ben are…”

  “Okay, let’s not do this right now.”

  “Sorry. So, I still don’t understand…” His eyes change. “Oh shit. Are you about to tell me what I think you are?”

  “I have a daughter.”

  Like someone shot a cannon at him Jason hits the back of his chair. “Justin!”

  “I know.”

  “What are you gonna d
o?”

  “Raise her.”

  Dumbstruck, his eyes go wider. “What?!”

  Over the lump growing in my throat, I croak, “Her name is Hannah. She’s upstairs.”

  “Whoa,” Jason breathes. “She’s upstairs? Your daughter…is upstairs. You have a child. And she’s in this building.”

  If there’s anyone in the world who knows how fucked up this is, it’s Jason. He’s the good parts of me and I am his shadows. I’m not meant to be a dad. What kind of an example will I be?

  “Jase…I’m scared, man.”

  He stands up and motions for me to get out of my chair. “Come here.” With tears in my eyes I rise. He hugs me. “I’m here with you, Justin. Our whole family will rally around you for this.”

  We pull apart with me choking on the words, “You wanna meet her?”

  He quietly nods. “Yeah, I really do.” The cocktail waitress is approaching with his water. He shoves his hands in his pockets and tells her, “No, thank you. Sorry about that, but we have to leave.”

  As he and I walk to the elevator, I fill him in on all the major details of what happened this morning. My speech. What the doctor at the hospital told me. Tanny’s home. He nods and takes it all in, not interrupting until the elevator doors open on my floor and I say, “And after what Jaimie said to me last night, you should have seen her face.”

  “Wait, who’s Jaimie?”

  Before I can stop myself, I snap, “Well, if you’d been around, you’d know.”

  He grabs my arm. “Hey! I’m sorry, Justin. I’ve been distracted. Maybe now you can understand. I’m having a baby! You know how long I’ve wanted this?” He searches my stubbornness and his shoulders concede responsibility. “You’re right. I should have been here for you. I’m just being defensive because I feel like shit. Our cousins were there and I wasn’t? That’s not right. I should have been here.”

  I take a deep breath. “It’s fine. I’m on edge. But yeah, you’ve been absent for a long time.”

  “I’m really sorry, Justin. I won’t leave you alone again.”