by Mya O'Malley
Mike took a bite of the roast, closed his eyes. Tears swam behind his eyelids. It was all he could do to control his emotions. He so didn’t want to weep at the table, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever eaten such a delicious meal. His ex-wife, Anne, had never put this much effort, or this much love, into the meals she made for him.
Becoming aware of a stultifying silence at the table, he fought back the tears and opened his eyes. The twins gazed at him with deep, worried eyes. He forced a smile and playfully tossed a pea from his plate at each of them.
“Hey, Uncle Mike,” Tresa protested. “Mommy, Uncle Mike’s throwing food at me!”
“Uh, huh,” Stephanie said, pretending not to see. “Tell me another wild tale, will ya, Tresa?”
“Mommy! Uncle Mike threw a pea at me!”
“That’s enough, Tresa.”
Troy winked at Mike, a wise, ‘Tresa may be a fool, but I’m in on the joke with you, Uncle Mike,’ kind of look.
“Okay, kids,” Carl said. “Eat your dinner.”
An uneasy peace descended over the table. Mike caught Stephanie’s eye. The look of love she gave him was enough to bolster his spirits and help him get through the meal. It meant so much to him, his sister’s kindness. And he knew he belonged here, with his sister and her family, but a sad, secret part of him wished he had his own family back. He missed Emma. He missed the life he and Anne had made together.
All right, enough. Enough with the wallowing. Try to look happy, even if you aren’t.
Everything was fine. He was going to get through this. He would get through this. He had to. He had no choice.
****
After Stephanie brought out the peach cobbler and everyone ate some, the twins excused themselves from the table. Mike tossed his napkin on top of his plate and sat back with a hearty sigh.
“It’s a wonder to me, sometimes,” Stephanie commented, “how you stuck that marriage out as long as you did.”
Mike winced. “It’s a wonder to me too, Sis.”
“How long have you been here?” Carl asked. “In Bellefleur?”
“Six months.”
“Wow,” Carl said. “Time sure flies, don’t it?”
“It does,” Mike agreed. “There are days when I can’t quite believe it, either.”
“When did you buy that empty garage on the corner of Putnam and Seventh?” Stephanie asked. “Didn’t you close on it just a few weeks ago?”
“No. I bought it four months ago.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I’m now up to my eyeballs in a mortgage I’ll be getting paid off sometime before I turn seventy.”
“And you’re running your business out of it?” she asked.
“Yep. Business is good, too.”
“Really?” Stephanie asked. “Even with the economy tanking?”
Mike laughed uneasily. “Actually, I hate to admit it, but thanks to the struggling economy, I made a great deal with my commercial property.”
“It’s not your fault someone got foreclosed on,” Carl said.
“I know, but how I managed to qualify for a mortgage is beyond me.”
“God was looking down at you, Mike,” Stephanie said.
“After all the horrors I’ve been through in the past year, I guess someone’s finally looking out for me,” Mike admitted. “It’s starting to look as if I might finally make something of myself after all.”
“You are something, Mike,” Stephanie said with quiet meaning.
“Hah,” Mike said lightly. “Try telling my ex that.”
Another uneasy silence.
“You two got married right after high school graduation,” Stephanie said. “You were young.” She looked to Carl for encouragement. “You just grew apart.”
“You two married right out of high school,” Mike pointed out, “and you’re still doing fine. My marriage would’ve been just fine too, if my wife hadn’t decided to have an affair.”
“Mike,” Stephanie said.
“It’s okay,” he said abruptly. “Let’s just stop talking about it, okay?”
His thoughts drifted. When Anne first told him of her indiscretion, he’d wanted to flee to the opposite end of the country, his gut reaction to her telling him she no longer loved him. But then his better sense prevailed, and after some reflection, he realized it would make sense for him to relocate to the most eastern corner of Ohio, to the tourist-attraction town of Bellefleur, on the banks of the Ohio River.
He spent the first few weeks on his sister’s couch, before buying himself a cheap little trailer on a five-acre plot of land, just outside of Beverly. Then he put his money where it really mattered, into the empty garage where he installed his cabinet-making and contractor business. He was busy. If he could only focus on work, he’d be good.
“Hey, I’ll get those newspapers for you,” Carl offered, getting up from the table and heading to the study.
“Oh, Carl,” Mike called out, “don’t bother. I’ll get them on my way out.”
Stephanie smiled at him from over the rim of her coffee cup. “Anne was so mean.”
“Well, at least I can say I’m free of her,” Mike said. “I gave her everything she wanted.”
“She cleaned you out good,” Stephanie said flatly.
“Yeah, she did, but I did it for Emma’s sake, more than for Anne.” A knot formed in his belly. Stephanie meant well, she really did, but she had a tendency to drive topics into the ground. “Look, can we not talk about it?”
“Sure.”
Carl staggered back into the room, bearing a huge stack of newspapers. “Hope you can use all these,” he said, dropping the stack onto the dining table.
“Carl!” Stephanie protested. “Put them in a bag, honey.”
“Oh, sorry.” Carl reached for the stack, but Mike put a restraining hand on his brother-in-law’s arm.
“Hang on, there,” Mike said. He plucked the full-page article from the Lifestyle Section off the top of the stack and showed it to his sister. “Did you see this?”
“I haven’t had time to read anything lately,” Stephanie said, “ever since I started back at night school. What is it?”
“It’s an article about Molly Brandenberg.”
“What? Let me see that.”
“Here.” Mike handed the section of the paper over to her. “It’s a big, full-page article all about her.”
Stephanie snapped the page open and studied it. “Well, I’ll be. I’d forgotten all about her.”
“Why does that name sound familiar?” Carl asked.
“She went to high school with us,” Stephanie said. “Actually, she was in Mike’s graduating class. I was two years behind.”
“Did I see a mention about Capitol Hill?” Mike asked, getting up from his chair and sidling around the table to peer over his sister’s shoulder.
“It says here,” Stephanie said, “right after Molly graduated from Bellefleur High School, she moved to Georgetown.”
“Georgetown, Ohio?” Carl asked.
“No, honey,” Stephanie said. “Georgetown University, in Washington, D.C.”
“Oh,” Carl said.
Stephanie glanced at Mike from over the top of the newspaper. “Didn’t you two date in high school?”
A frisson of tension shot through Mike’s spine. “We were friends in high school,” he corrected her.
Although, truthfully, they’d been much more than friends.
“Oh. But I thought you took her to the senior prom?”
“I did,” Mike said evenly, “for that one night only. And then right after the prom, Anne wanted to get back together. She broke up with me the night before prom, and so I asked my best friend to prom with me.”
“Molly?”
“Yes. But when Anne wanted to get back together, I didn’t go back to her right away. I decided if Anne could dump me, well then, I could dump her right back.”
“Huh,” Stephanie said. “I don’t remember this story.”
“I di
dn’t discuss it too much at the time,” Mike said. “I was pretty angry with Anne.” A tingling awareness, a profound sadness, seeped into his bones.
Molly, wow. He hadn’t thought of Molly in he couldn’t remember how many years.
“Did you ever think,” Stephanie said slowly, “how your life would’ve turned out differently if you and Molly had stayed a couple?”
“Stephanie,” Carl said in a warning voice.
“Sorry,” Stephanie said, abashed.
“It’s okay,” Mike said. And really, it was okay. He wondered the same thing. And now as he reflected on it, he realized why he’d made Anne wait. He’d wanted to see what Molly wanted to do. He’d left it open to her; they could go back to being just friends, or they could become something more. He’d left it all up to Molly.
And then she’d fled Bellefleur for Washington, leaving him behind. She’d given him her answer.
A flood of memories spilled through him and for a moment he lost himself to his past. Why did he and Molly part? He couldn’t ever remember them having a serious discussion about their future, and he would’ve loved to talk to her. His heart thumped hard in his chest. He sensed his features tightening up as a hot flare of color dashed across his cheeks. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his brother-in-law subtly shaking his head at Stephanie. He loved his sister dearly, but there were times when it took her an awfully long time to pick up a clue.
“Oh, will you look at that,” Stephanie said.
“What?” Mike asked, curious despite himself.
“Why, Molly’s got a daughter.”
“Oh, really?” Carl asked. “Who’s Molly married to?”
“Hmm,” Stephanie mused, studying the paper. “I don’t see any mention of a husband.”
“He’s probably one of those super-private kinds of husbands,” Carl said. “The kind who doesn’t live for the spotlight.”
“The daughter’s a teen!” Stephanie exclaimed.
“Wow,” Mike said. “Really?”
“Yes, her daughter, looks like she’s only got the one, is named Meredith and she’s a teenager. That’s all she says about her daughter, too. No photos, no nothing.”
“Molly’s trying to protect her daughter’s privacy,” Mike surmised.
“So the girl might be sixteen, she might be fifteen,” Stephanie said.
“Or thirteen,” Carl said.
“No matter how old her kid is,” Stephanie said, “Molly had her baby when she was young.”
“The child can’t be sixteen,” Mike said. “If Molly’s daughter is sixteen, that would mean Molly was pregnant when she left high school.” He shook his head. “That sure doesn’t sound like the Molly Brandenberg I knew.”
“No,” Carl said. “Molly probably had her baby after college, which would make her daughter what… maybe thirteen?”
“A year younger than Emma,” Stephanie reflected.
“Yes,” Mike said, nodding. That timeline made much more sense.
Silence blanketed the table.
“Anyway,” Stephanie said finally, handing the full-page article back to Mike, “looks like Molly’s got the world by the tail, doesn’t it?”
“Yep,” Mike said tersely, “it sure does.”
****
“Senator,” Molly said. “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”
“That’s funny,” Senator Winbourne said, “I’ve got something I’d like to discuss with you, too.”
“Sir?”
“Tell me your topic first, and then we’ll delve into mine.”
They sat in his office, drinking coffee. Still early morning, none of the other staffers had arrived yet. This was one of Molly’s sacred rituals, and she engaged in it with the senator every morning, her few moments alone with him to discuss the day’s schedule over a cup of coffee. It gave her an unprecedented opportunity to connect with him and to find out what needed to be done for the day’s work. It was how she managed to keep her finger on the pulse of the senator’s office, as well as the entire Senate.
She opened her mouth to speak, then a sudden burst of fear gripped her throat. She looked down into her coffee cup. She wanted to share something huge with him, so huge, in fact, that she almost lost her nerve. Then she looked up at him, saw him gazing kindly at her, and realized she had all the support she needed. “I’ve been giving this a great deal of thought,” she said slowly, “and I’ve decided I want to run for Congress.”
To her surprise, he did not betray any emotion. Quite frankly, she didn’t know what she expected his reaction to be, but his neutrality did shock her. After a long moment, he said, “It’s what I’ve been expecting to hear from you for some time, my dear.”
“Really?”
“Yes, yes, really.” He smiled wryly. “You and I are similar creatures, Molly. We’re both politically ambitious. It’s why you’ve stayed with me so long, when you could’ve fled this office long ago and joined one of the blue-chip downtown law firms. You stayed with me because you knew it would advance your political career.”
She gasped. “Out of loyalty, too—”
But the senator waved her down. “You’ve never told me of the offers floating in every year, from high-powered downtown Washington D.C. law firms hoping to capitalize on your excellent connections, but I knew of them. I knew. And I appreciate your unswerving loyalty, my dear.”
She blanched. “How did you know?”
“Are you kidding me? In this town? One lobbyist approached me in a rage because you turned down his firm. He couldn’t believe it.”
“Well, for goodness sakes,” she fumed. But as she gazed at Bill, she realized she had no reason for her annoyance. Bill took it all in stride. A brilliant man and very astute; of course he’d known of the offers coming her way. Only now did she realize, he’d known all along. “I always turned them down, Senator. I love working here.”
“I know you do, my dear. You have no idea how much I appreciate your loyalty to me. I want to do something for you, to help you along your way, help you get started on your own congressional career. I’m sending you on a certain fact-finding mission.”
“Yes, sir.” She threw her head back and laughed. Her body shuddered with relief. He already knew! And he was fine with it. He was more than fine, he was great with it. “Lay it on me, sir.”
“I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, lately. I’ve been thinking over a lot of things, as a matter of fact. I’ve been thinking a lot about Susan, Liza, your little daughter, Meredith, and you.”
“Oh,” she said in a small voice.
“I want you to know, my dear, just how much I value everything you’ve done for me all these years.” Moisture brimmed in his eyes. “And especially in the past year, with Susan.”
“It’s been my pleasure, Senator,” she said, pushing down her mounting fear. She sensed something coming. Something terrifying and yet wonderful, all at the same time.
“With my re-election campaign kicking into high gear, I’ve hired a consulting company to manage my campaign. My campaign manager, his name’s Wendell Carpenter, you’ll meet him tomorrow, he’s a great guy. He thinks I should establish satellite offices throughout the state.”
“Really?” Molly regarded him with surprise. “Do you really need to put that much effort into campaigning, Bill? After all, your challenger’s an unknown.”
Bill shrugged. “What can I say? I don’t want to take anything for granted.”
“I understand.”
A sudden wince of pain creased his features. He removed his bifocals, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Waves of worry rippled through Molly as she watched. A migraine. The cancer may have done a lot of damage to Susan, most of which was visible — the double mastectomy, the grueling chemotherapy treatments — but had also effected a secondary damage upon Bill.
He’d aged considerably in the past year. He no longer looked the august and venerable senator anymore. He’d become an old man.
Bill slid his spectacles back on and smiled at her as if nothing untoward had just happened. “Bit of a migraine coming on.”
“I’ll get you some aspirin,” she said.
“Thank you, my dear.”
She hurried out to her desk, yanked open a drawer, grabbed the bottle and hurried back. She tapped out a dose for him, laid the pills into the palm of his hand, and watched as he swallowed them down without a sip of coffee. The only other person she’d known who could swallow pills without a sip of something, water, coffee, soda, what have you, had been her mother.
Senator Winbourne continued. “In any event, Wendell and I sat down and did some brainstorming, and he became intrigued when I told him you hail from Bellefleur, Ohio.”
Molly stiffened. “Oh, really?”
Bill’s eyes gleamed. “Yes, really. Wendell’s decided the southeastern part of Ohio really needs my attention. And when he found out you grew up there, he came to an astonishing conclusion.”
A dark thought gripped Molly’s senses. She didn’t know who this Wendell Carpenter was, what he looked like or where he hailed from, but she had a sudden, sinking sensation as to what Bill would say next. Lucky for him, as far as she could see, the amazing and astonishing Wendell Carpenter was not present in the room. If he were, she would not have hesitated to wrap her hands around his throat and choke him.
Her throat dry as a bone, she asked, “What conclusion is that, Bill?
Bill leaned forward across the massive desk to gaze at her. “I want you to set up a campaign headquarters for me in Bellefleur. I’m putting you in charge of the project. There’s money in the budget for you to buy a property. Nothing huge or grand, mind you, but a nice house somewhere in town. Find it, get it fixed up and running. You’re in charge of operating my southeastern campaign this year.”
Molly gazed at him, horror-struck. “Bill, I did everything in my power to get out of Bellefleur, Ohio. Why would I want to go back there now?”
“Isn’t Bellefleur in the sixteenth congressional district, where you’ll be campaigning in two years’ time?”
“Well, sure, but I planned on setting up a campaign headquarters in Athens.”