“I’d love to see you, and yes, brunch would be fine. Where should we meet?”
The following morning, I met Sylvia at a Belgian restaurant near Dupont Circle. When we were in high school, she was a shy little Goth with more fashionable clothes than anyone else in Bellaire, Texas. She still had black hair, though the dye job was better now, and she was still the best-dressed woman in the restaurant. The French waiter was all over her because she flirted with him en français.
When he left the table, I said, “He’s a hottie.”
“He is.” Her eyes lingered on him as he walked away. “I have a thing for waiters. Half of them are artists and actors.”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“I’m dating, but no one seriously.” She smiled. “Tell me about your bloke. Adam mentioned you’re dating someone.”
In a way, I would’ve loved to have heard that conversation, and in a way not. I made the best of it by smiling. “His name is Juan Carlos Jimenez.”
“His name is fantastic. Do you have a picture? Adam said he’s famous, but I don’t really follow politics. Sorry.”
“That’s okay. I’m not sure I’d call him famous, but he’s been very successful lately.” I pulled my phone from my bag and showed her my favorite photo of Juan Carlos and me.
“Aw…what a lovely couple,” she said, leaning across the table to get a better look. “He’s quite handsome. Have you been together for a while?”
“Not that long. We met on the campaign last year.”
“It’s good to see you happy.” She nodded. “I hope you know I mean that.”
“I do,” I said, touching my heart. “You’ve always been understanding.”
“I just never wanted what happened between you and Adam to end us being friends.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Of course, Adam has moved on as well.” She waived her hand. “Now with that Felicity.”
“What about her?” I had to know what she meant.
“Well, I’m not betraying any confidences in saying Mummy and I don’t like her. She’s gauche.”
That made me laugh. “I distinctly remember your father not liking me, probably for the same reason.”
“Now, that’s not true. He liked you. He just didn’t think you were right for Adam, especially when you two were so young. Regardless, he’s very impressed with you now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Since Daddy’s been so ill, he watches a lot of television. He never misses Adam, so he sees you often when you speak at the White House. Daddy thinks you’re very accomplished.”
Admittedly, I was a little bitter about Adam’s father. It’s not like he’d broken us up, and both my parents had also let me know Adam and I were too young. Yet I’d always gotten the feeling that I wasn’t quite good enough to date the son of a viscount or whatever his title.
Still, I smiled and said, “That’s nice to hear.” Then I couldn’t help myself. “What does he think of Felicity?”
“Daddy? Oh, he’s a little indifferent. He’s still upset with Adam for breaking up with Muff.”
“Ah, Muff. He was with her for a while wasn’t he?” Like I didn’t know…I’d spent countless hours online stalking Adam’s relationship with Lady Mary Selbourne, a.k.a. “Muff.” I had always liked to call her Twat whenever I read about them together. They had dated for years but then broke it off.
“Yes, he split with her two years ago now when the drumbeat of marriage got too loud. Frankly, I think he would’ve done it a lot sooner, but it took a while for him to get the courage.”
“Courage? Why’s that?”
“I do believe he loved her in a way, but I think he also felt he was supposed to be with a woman like her, not that she was the one he actually wanted.”
“Oh.” I picked at my food for a moment, trying not to smile. Sylvia was telling me so many things that made me happy when they really shouldn’t. When I looked up, I switched to a safer topic. “So tell me about your job.”
There was no talk of Adam until the end of the meal, but then she really put me on the spot. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?” she asked.
“Actually, not much. I always have work to do, but I was in the office yesterday. Juan Carlos is still out of town, so I suppose I’ll watch some TV while the snow falls. What are you doing?”
“Adam and I are going to the Sackler Gallery. I’m friends with the director, and he’s arranged for us to have a special viewing of some works that aren’t on display. Do you want to come along?”
“Um…”
“I don’t want it to be awkward for you, so please don’t feel like you have to.”
It felt like another test. Could I spend the afternoon with Adam in a platonic setting? I knew I should be able to say yes, so I took a breath and smiled. “A little awkward maybe, but it would be fun. Thanks for asking me.”
An hour later, Sylvia and I climbed out of a cab in front of the Arthur M. Sackler Gallery and Freer Gallery of Art. Well, I was the one who climbed. With it snowing outside on a Sunday morning, I tumbled out in a ski jacket, jeans, and snow boots, whereas Sylvia daintily stepped out in her chic black hat, long coat, and boots that looked treacherous on the ice.
I spotted Adam standing to the left outside the front entrance. He was dressed like me in a parka with jeans, and he smiled as we walked toward him. I had a feeling he hadn’t known I was coming along.
When we reached him, Sylvia said, “Hiya. I asked Nicki to join us.”
“Brilliant. Hello,” he said with an appreciative nod.
“Hi.”
His grin widened, and he reached out and tousled the pompom on my stocking cap. The twinkle was back in his eye, and I felt it in my heart. When we were in high school, he used to touch my ponytail the same way. Embarrassed, I took off the hat.
He gestured to the museum door. “Shall we?”
While Sylvia spoke with a woman at the front desk, Adam and I were both quiet. He stared at the art in the entrance area, and I decided it was time for a quick text to Juan Carlos. He knew I’d had brunch with Sylvia that morning, but I needed to tell him about Adam.
Had brunch with Sylvia. Now at the Sackler w/ her.
Adam is here, too. Hope you’re having a good day. I love you.
As usual, his response was quick.
Sounds fun. At bar w/ clients. Only place open in this storm. Had a few too many. Love you.
That made me feel a little better. He wasn’t alone in a hotel room eating bad room service. And if he was out drinking, I could have a harmless trip to a museum with two old friends, right?
By the time the three of us saw the first Hokusai print, I realized I had no reason to be nervous at all. Sylvia began going on and on about Hokusai, and she took over the entire conversation. In fact, she took over the entire room. She spoke so loudly and with such authority on the art that people thought she was a museum guide. They soon began to follow us from room to room.
At one point as Sylvia lectured everyone, I smiled up at Adam and shook my head. He bent down and whispered, “No, she hasn’t changed.”
After moving through a few rooms, she announced, “We’ll now be entering an exhibit of ancient Chinese artifacts, primarily from the Shang Dynasty…”
Adam nodded to a bench. “Do you want to sit this one out?”
“Sure.” As Sylvia led a group inside the next room, I sat down. “I love Asian art, but I’ve seen a lot before.”
“How come?”
“When Logan was governor, we traveled a few times to Asia. You know, trade trips and stuff.”
“It sounds like you’ve traveled a lot, then. You did when you lived in Mexico as well, right?”
“Oh yeah, I did a lot there, too—throughout Central America. And then with Logan, a little in Europe.”
His brow furrowed slightly, and I knew I’d stepped in it. He surely wondered why I had gone to Europe and never contacted him. I quickly added, “But never to E
ngland. Only Berlin and Brussels.”
He nodded as if he accepted my explanation. “The president is going to Berlin again next week for the summit.”
“Hopefully I can get away for an hour. It has some great museums.”
“That sounds like fun, and it would be nice for you—to get a break from the stress.”
“Yeah, my job is stressful, no doubt about that, but it’s also amazing and rewarding and can be a lot of fun.” I smiled.
Just then Sylvia walked back into our room with her followers, who seemed to hang on her every word. She turned to them and said, “Well, thank you so much for joining me today. I really loved it. I should probably get back to my friends now.”
Walking back over to us, she laughed. “Sorry about that. I should’ve warned you. It happens a lot. I just can’t help sharing with people everything that I know.”
“Can we get on with our own tour now?” Adam asked as he impatiently gripped his parka. Age really hadn’t changed their interactions. He was still the bossy big brother, and she was still the annoying little sister.
We made our way through more of the gallery and then wandered over to the Freer. The Peacock room was especially gorgeous. The elaborate gold and blue designs really did remind me of a peacock’s feathers, and the porcelain it housed was equally fine. It was the sort of room you wanted to stay in for a while and enjoy its uniqueness.
I asked, “Do you mind if we sit down for a minute here? It’s beautiful, and I’m a little tired.”
Sylvia checked her watch. “I don’t really have time if I’m going to meet up with George to see that collection.”
Maybe a little tired himself, Adam leaned against the wall. “What exactly are we seeing? I’d like to sit down for a few minutes as well.”
“Oh, it’s wonderful stuff that no one gets to see.” Sylvia’s eyes lit up. “Since the galleries are part of the Smithsonian, they’re government-funded. There are pieces the museum has in its holdings but never displays because Americans are such prudes.” She turned to me and said, “Your crazy right wing would go mad.”
“So it’s political art?” I asked.
“Oh no. It’s Shunga. Japanese erotic art.”
Erotic art? What the hell? There was no way I was going to look at porn with Adam. No way, no way. I glanced over at him, and he looked pissed. Did Sylvia think she was doing us a favor?
I tried to crack a joke, one that had some truth to it. “I’m sorry, Sylvia. It’s nice of you to arrange it, but as you said, Americans are prudes, and I work at the White House. I’ll stay here.”
“Indeed,” said Adam. “The deputy White House press secretary probably shouldn’t be on a private tour of hidden erotica at the Smithsonian.” He scowled at his sister. “I’ll keep her company. You go ahead.”
“Oh, you two have always been such duds.” She chuckled and walked on. “I’ll go by myself and meet you back here in half an hour or so.”
As she huffed out of the room, I said, “I hope she’s not upset.”
“Who bloody cares? That’s not something I want to see with my sister.”
But would he have wanted to see it with me? I gave him a sly look before turning away.
“Let’s sit down,” I heard him say. I looked over, and he walked toward a bench.
Joining him there, I said, “It’s such a beautiful room.”
“My mum would love it. The next time they visit, I should bring them here.”
“Are they coming soon?”
“Nothing is planned.” His eyes moved around the room as if he were studying the people around us. Only two other visitors remained, and they headed toward the door—likely fleeing before the impending snowstorm outside would hit. Adam’s expression became grim. “Actually, I don’t know why I said that. They won’t be coming again. There won’t be any more plans. My dad is so ill that it’s not possible.”
“Oh, Adam. I’m sorry.” My heart sank for him again. “How often are you able to see them?”
“I usually go home once a month. Sylvia does as well. I haven’t been back in six weeks, though, so I’m taking time off after Berlin to see him.”
“That must be very difficult.” My grandmother had died of cancer, so I knew what it was like to watch someone’s life come to a close over the course of visits. It was like reading a book that you hoped would get better with each chapter, but instead it got worse. Some stories never had a happy ending.
I tried to find something encouraging to say. “It’s still nice that you can visit often—that you can see him even though you live in another country. I bet he really appreciates it.”
“Well, my mum does.” He laughed. “I guess he likes having us around. Sylvia talks his ear off. He and I don’t talk much, so we end up watching a lot of football.”
“But isn’t that what men do?” I smiled. “Instead of talking about important things, they just talk about sports.”
“Excuse me.” He was playfully indignant. “Are you saying my father and I are insensitive?”
“Absolutely.”
“And do you see your family often?” He seemed eager to change the subject away from himself.
“Some. They were both here for the inauguration. I usually see my dad a fair amount. President Logan’s home is still in Chicago. And when I’m in California for work, I visit my mom. Last year with the campaign, my life was crazy and I was never home, so she didn’t visit me, but she’ll come to DC now that I’m here.”
“What about Houston? Do you ever go back there?”
“Occasionally, to see friends and…” My speech halted altogether, and I stared at him. Once again in my life, I was about to tell Adam something about my sister I never told anyone. His gaze held mine as if he knew what might be coming. Had he set me up for it? Was he curious himself? Whatever the reason, as usual I wanted to tell him.
“When I’m there,” I said, “I stop by my sister’s grave.”
“That’s understandable. I would do the same thing. Besides, you grew up with her in Houston. It’s home,” he said delicately.
Whenever he treaded so lightly around my emotions, yet acknowledged them just the same, it just made me more comfortable expressing them. “But it’s not home anymore.” My lip shook, and the tears I normally suppressed tumbled forth. “I feel bad that we’ve all moved away.”
His eyes went wide, like he was mortified he’d made me cry. “Nicki.” He put his arm around me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry or make you sad.”
“It’s like we’ve left her behind,” I gasped, recognizing my guilt for permanently abandoning Lauren to a friendless graveyard. The nook of his arm provided safe haven for feeling what I needed to, just as it always had, and I wanted to bawl my eyes out. But I couldn’t. This time I was an adult in a public place. Even if no one was in the room with us, I shouldn’t have been crying in the arms of another man than Juan Carlos, especially one who happened to also be a BBC reporter.
I pulled away and patted the tears off my cheeks. “I know it’s silly, but if I have to fly through Houston, I’ll even schedule a long layover just to go to the cemetery.”
“That’s nice, but your sister isn’t there,” he said, rubbing my back. “Not really. She’s with you. In your heart. Right?”
Breathing deeply, I tried to pull myself together. “I know it makes no sense. Intellectually, I get it. Her soul is gone and elsewhere, but I hate that her remains are still there in that cemetery when none of us live near her.” I let out a throaty laugh. “I always said we should have scattered her ashes in the Gulf. Then she’d be everywhere.”
“It does appear to have its benefits.” He grinned, probably happy I felt okay enough for a joke. He stopped rubbing my back but let his hand rest above my waist, and I didn’t stop him. “Do you talk with your parents about it?”
Had he remembered so little about me? I’d turned to him when we were young in part because my mom had been so checked out and my dad lived over a thousand miles
away. I gave him a skeptical look. “My dad brings Lauren up occasionally, but my mother…it’s not really a welcome topic.”
“Still?”
A smile escaped me. He had remembered. “Time has passed, and I may be older, but my mom still doesn’t talk about the death of her little girl.”
He sighed and stretched out his legs. “And probably never will.”
“Nope.”
Silence ensued, and I felt his hand hesitantly withdraw from my back. After a moment, he declared, “Tell me about where you’ve been to—like China. I’ve always wanted to go there, but I haven’t yet had opportunity.”
Good. We’re out of the emotional danger zone, I thought, and I really didn’t want to be a crying mess when Sylvia came back. I nodded. “China is an amazing country, but we were there talking trade. It’s odd that they’re Communists because they’re such ardent capitalists.”
“I know. They’re Communists only when it comes to their authoritarian government. They couldn’t care less about redistribution of wealth.”
“Exactly, but it’s still fascinating to be there, seeing modern China contrasted against its ancient history. The people were so friendly, and we were able to do some sightseeing. The Forbidden City is amazing, and I also went to the Great Wall.”
“That’s something I’d like to see.”
“Yeah. I wanted to go there because it was something Lauren always wanted to do.” Ugh. I’d done it again. I could not let Adam turn into my emotional sounding board. I had a boyfriend for that. With a quick pat of the bench to end the conversation, I immediately rose and said, “I need to find a ladies’ room. I’ll meet you back here.”
After I pulled myself together in the bathroom, I stood in the hallway for a moment, scanning my emails and texts. I soon heard Sylvia’s stiletto boots clack on the floor and looked up.
“Hello. I’m sorry you missed the display. It was amazing.” She grinned.
“I’m sure,” I said with a smile. The woman still didn’t get that it was inappropriate for me on so many levels. Yet I sort of admired that she existed in her own little world where everything was simple and she was always right.
Disclosure of the Heart (The Heart Series) Page 6