The Reluctant First Lady

by Venita Ellick

  Ashley noted the expressions on Ed’s and Jack’s faces. They looked as if Ashley were a cobra ready to strike. It wasn’t funny. Nothing about this situation was funny, but for some reason, their facial expressions reminded her of the words from a nursery rhyme she used to read to her kids. “Run, run, as fast as you can; you can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man, I am, I am.” Michael had run and had won; there would be no more running.

  Ashley was aware that Jeremy and Juliette had flanked her sides. They were determined to weigh in on anything their mother had to say. Good grief, you teach them to talk when they’re little, and when they grow up, they argue and become opinionated and never shut up.

  “Mom,” Juliette said, “please, think about what you’re doing. Won’t you change your mind? How often does your husband get elected president? Can’t you give up your career just for a little while?”

  “Do you know what you’re asking, Juliette?” Ashley said. “Would you expect your dad to give up his political career for my job? Probably not. I hope if I’ve taught you anything, it’s that as a woman you have the right to choose your own path. You don’t have to follow in a man’s footsteps. Just because I’m a woman, the first thing people assume is I should give up my career. That’s completely unfair to me. I’ve worked every bit as hard to get where I am today as your dad has worked in his career.”

  Juliette tried again, “But, Mom . . .”

  “No, Sis, Mom’s right.” Jeremy jumped into the fray. “Mom’s never lied. The reason this is all so convoluted is because she’s the first one to take this position. I agree with her. Just because something has always been done a certain way doesn’t mean it’s right or wrong, or good or bad; it’s just that no one’s ever challenged the status quo before.”

  Ed leveled a less-than-pleased look at Ashley. “You realize that your husband was just elected president, and before he’s even sworn into office, you want the people who voted for him to deal with your news. Ashley, please reconsider. You’re not being fair to Michael.”

  “I know that’s what you believe, Ed. It’s in the mind-set you grew up with. I understand where you’re coming from. I don’t want to hurt him or his administration, but this should have been dealt with from the start. Then maybe it wouldn’t be such a huge elephant in the room. Will it really be so shocking for America to hear that even the president and his wife are a two-career family? I don’t think you’re giving the American people enough credit. Unfortunately now it’s bound to become a bigger story than it needs to be. Did you all think I was going to change my mind?

  “I just walked out on stage in front of most of America and acted as if we were all one big happy family; here we are, folks, the next First Family. When the news breaks regarding my decision, it’s going to make me look like a liar and a traitor to my husband. Neither of those scenarios sits well with me. We should have been up-front from the beginning.

  “I don’t want to ruin this night for Michael. But, please, start trying to figure out how to deal with this. I’ll be heading back to New York in a day or two, and people are going to want to know what’s going on. I feel like we’re already behind the eight ball.”

  Applause and pandemonium broke out on the other side of the curtain, indicating Michael had reached the end of his speech.

  A stage manager nodded and, with Ashley and the twins leading the way, followed by the vice president-elect, his wife, and family, she stepped onto the stage and into the bright lights. The noise from the crowd grew in intensity as each of them came into view. They all walked forward to stand beside Michael, Ashley and the twins to his left; Robert Hughes, Catherine, and their children to his right.

  The chaos and elation vibrating through the crowd was intoxicating. Cheers from a wildly exuberant audience and music blocked out what individuals were saying, but the camaraderie of those on the stage was evidenced by their smiles, hugs, and claps on the back. Before the world, she and Michael looked like the perfect couple. Michael pulled his family, plus Richard and his family, toward him while photographers snapped pictures of this historic event.

  Amid the excitement, it almost went unnoticed that a reporter shouted a question at Ashley. She ignored him, hoping he would go away.

  The reporter repeated his question. “Mrs. Taylor, what causes do you intend to champion during the next four years in the White House?”

  Ashley winced inwardly, but no outward expression marred her serene expression. She had a choice. She could tell the truth or continue to go along with the lie. Damn it. She’d been dodging questions like this for months about what special causes she intended to champion if her husband were elected. In fact, she’d become a master of evasion, not something she was proud of. Unquestionably the smartest thing to do would be to give the same canned response she’d been giving throughout the campaign. It would be a lie, all of it. But then she wouldn’t be accused of rocking the boat, a boat, she might add, that she knew was taking on a lot of water.

  She was tired of being evasive. She was sick to death of lying by omission. Michael’s managers had convinced her that he wouldn’t be elected if she declared her intentions. But, Michael had been elected. Was it possible that she was making more of this than necessary?

  She leaned toward the reporter and his microphone and began speaking in a quiet, clear voice.

  “First, I’d like to thank everyone here and at home for their incredible support throughout the campaign. I’m extremely proud of Michael and have always believed he’d be a great leader and a great president. The American people have chosen wisely and well this day. As for me, with the election over, I’ll be returning to my job as director of the Cameron Museum of Art in New York. It’s never been my intention to serve as the First Lady. Over half of the families in our country are two-career families. Our family isn’t any different. In fact . . .”

  Ashley felt Michael’s hand on her elbow. “Ashley, just smile and wave. We’re getting off of the stage now.”

  Michael turned to the audience and waved as cheers and applause continued to ripple through the gathered body of well-wishers.

  As soon as they were backstage, Michael turned to Ashley. “What the hell were you thinking, answering that reporter’s question?”

  Ashley was quiet for a moment. She felt like she was having an out-of-body experience. Had she really chosen to answer? She let out a pent-up breath. “I guess I was thinking you’ve been elected and it was okay to be honest. I’ve lived up to my part of the bargain. But, no more. I’m tired of living a lie. I just can’t do it anymore. You strategized every aspect of your campaign, but never once did you discuss how to convey to the public that I wasn’t part of the package. We’ve been over this more times than I can count. Did you think I was kidding?”

  “I hoped that by being on the campaign trail with me, you’d see all the wonderful things you could accomplish and have a change of heart. Now, instead of enjoying my victory, I’ll have to start dealing with damage control.”

  Everyone standing around backstage wasn’t sure what to say. Finally Jeremy broke the silence. “Mom, Dad, we’re gonna head up to our rooms.” Jeremy stepped forward and hugged his mother while his sister simultaneously hugged their father. “We’ll see you both in the morning.”

  Jeremy’s reaction to his parents jump-started the rest of the group into action.

  Richard Hughes turned to Michael. “We’ll need to discuss this as soon as possible.”

  Ed Branton agreed. “We need to meet tonight, right now. I’m quite sure that piece of footage of Ashley talking to the reporter is already all over the airwaves. Station managers and newspaper editors are going to be having wet dreams. We need to devise a strategy for damage control now.”

  Michael nodded. “Let’s meet in my suite in about thirty minutes. I want to react swiftly and with confidence. Ed, you and Jack get the campaign advisory team together and meet me upstairs.”

  “Will do,” Ed responded.

  Ashley was w
ell aware that Michael was furious. She wondered how long she’d have to wait before the explosion came. She’d always been truthful. She’d never misled him or offered false promises. Still she felt guilty and hated that she did. Why did life and relationships have to be so complicated? She’d never wanted her husband to define who she was, and she’d be damned if she was going to allow that to happen now.

  4

  As they rode the elevator up to their penthouse suite surrounded by the secret service, Ashley felt cramped. It was probably more mental than physical discomfort. This was yet another thing she’d have to get used to. The secret service had been assigned to them during the campaign, but she supposed she thought of them as temporary. Now that Michael had been elected president, the Secret Service would become a permanent fixture in their lives. Michael would always be surrounded by an entourage of Secret Service and staff except when they were in their private rooms. God, how she hated that thought and wished for the bazillionth time that Michael had a normal job like everyone else.

  Michael was in disbelief. He couldn’t believe Ashley had responded to the reporter. He tilted his head back, resting it on the wall of the elevator, and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. He’d spent the last eighteen months crisscrossing the country multiple times delivering his message of hope to the American people. He wondered if her recent revelation was going to change his ability to carry out his goals.

  Once they were safely ensconced in their suite and it was just the two of them, Michael released the explosive breath he’d been holding since Ashley had made her declaration to the reporter. He reminded himself to breathe: inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. He walked over to the mini-bar and took out a cold beer and with great and deliberate care opened and poured the amber liquid into a glass. He was trying to focus on this simple task while his brain was attempting to put some sort of order to the cumulus clouds of thoughts forming in his mind.

  His emotions were raging, an experience with which he was fairly unfamiliar. He was a man who prided himself on maintaining control during times of crisis and dealing with problems that arose in a reasonable and thoughtful manner. He was successful in this endeavor, except when it came to dealing with his wife. His public image was that of a very even-tempered, thoughtful politician, but no one could push his buttons like Ashley. She was the only person who saw the other side of his nature—Ashley and, occasionally, the twins. Tonight he felt as though he were navigating his way through a minefield.

  He’d reluctantly succumbed to her refusal to be part of his political life from the beginning. After all, he couldn’t hog-tie her and throw her over his shoulder and make her do what he wanted although the thought was tempting. However, in all of their conversations, in all of the years of her refusing to be part of his political life, they’d never factored into the equation just how far he might go in politics—or how far she would go in her profession.

  He looked over at Ashley, who appeared to have found a safe haven at the end of an overstuffed sofa. Her eyes were closed, and her head was resting on the back of the sofa. She looked relaxed, but he would bet good money her brain was running like a high-speed Internet connection.

  He was gradually calming down and regaining control over his emotions. He thought he could have a reasonable conversation with her now without trying to strangle her. “Ashley, why did you choose tonight to answer the reporter? You’ve been dodging questions like that for months. What were you thinking? You realize the consequences are going to be catastrophic for me. I can’t believe you’d be so thoughtless.”

  Ashley knew it was pointless to respond. She knew exactly where this conversation was heading, and it wasn’t going to be even remotely civil. In an exhausted voice, she answered, “I didn’t plan on undermining your election night. My response wasn’t premeditated. I’m just sick of all the deception. For months, I’ve been dodging the same question. I guess tonight I’d reached the end of my rope, and I wasn’t interested in tying a knot and trying to hang on. The election is over, you’ve been elected, and I suppose I thought just maybe the public won’t care if I become First Lady or not. We’re not living in the dark ages, you know. Millions of families have two working spouses.”

  Michael interrupted her response. “What you fail to realize, what you’ve always failed to realize, is that politicians and their families are held to a different standard than other people. We’re expected to portray the perfect family.”

  “Give me a break. I know you believe everything you’re saying, and it may, in fact, be true. But did you ever stop to think that it will always stay that way unless someone challenges these ridiculous beliefs?”

  “I’ll be the first to admit how unreasonable the perception is, but that’s the way it is. Your mini-rebellion isn’t going to change it. You, and most assuredly I, are going to be crucified tomorrow. Every newscaster and blogger will be weighing in.

  “Ed, Jack, Richard, and my team will be here in a few minutes. We need to figure out how to handle the crisis you’ve created. I can’t believe . . .”

  He watched as his wife closed her eyes and laid her head back on the sofa. She was shutting down.

  She was a beautiful woman and at forty-four, she looked younger. He’d overheard his son’s friends refer to her as a MILF often enough, which he didn’t appreciate one bit. She radiated light. Her silvery-blonde hair and translucent skin glowed with vitality. She wore her hair shoulder length with wispy bangs that accentuated blue-green eyes that didn’t miss much.

  She looked delicate, but others, who weren’t as close to Ashley, didn’t realize how adept she was at using that luscious mouth of hers to whittle you down to size if necessary. She had no patience for pretense or pseudo-intellectuals. She had a genius intellect and an uncanny ability to reveal fakes and liars. She would say her crap detector was fully functional. Heaven help those at whom she decided to take aim. Michael was always intrigued that her deadly wit was so deceptively packaged within such a beautiful exterior. It was one of the traits that had drawn him to her from the beginning of their relationship way back in high school.

  A knock at the door and the simultaneous ring of Ashley’s cell phone interrupted Michael’s train of thought. He wished he had more time to reason with his wife before he had to meet with everyone, but clearly that was out of the question now. He headed to the door to greet his team of advisors while Ashley yelled over her shoulder while disappearing toward their bedroom, “I’ll take it in here.”

  Michael acknowledged his advisors as they entered the suite. He led them to the dining room, which boasted a banquet-size black glass dining room table. The team sat down, selecting their positions at the table as strategically as chess wizards deciding their next move. Michael offered them drinks, but all declined. Their purpose for being there didn’t lend itself to the tinkling of ice cubes.

  “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but here, you’re going to want to see this,” Ed began as he slid his laptop toward Michael and hit the play button. A clip of Ashley’s exchange with the reporter was already on the network. “We’re already behind on this story. But I think in order to reclaim the lead position, we need to hold a press conference as soon as possible. You’ve always been honest with the American people, and now’s a good time to show them you meant it when you talked about complete transparency in your administration. Plus, maybe we can get Ashley to soften her position slightly.”

  Michael walked to the window and looked outside. The streets were well lit and surprisingly empty of pedestrian traffic. He identified with the emptiness he saw below. He felt empty inside and wondered how that could be when he’d just been elected president of the United States. He could never have imagined this day ending as it had. He wanted to give back to the country that had given him so much, but right this moment people were depending on him. He didn’t have the luxury of trying to figure out where it all went wrong.

  Decision time. He strode back to the group, smiled the half smile he was so famou
s for, and directed, “Schedule a press conference for first thing tomorrow morning. I’ve just been elected, and we’re already in crisis mode. We need a plan of action immediately. The media is obviously already having a field day, and the GOP undoubtedly think manna has just landed in their lap. Let’s take it away from them.”

  “We have to change Ashley’s mind,” Ed said with conviction.

  “Unfortunately I don’t think that’s going to happen. We’ve discussed this ever since I first threw my hat into the ring. She’s repeatedly said she wants no part of the White House or politics. It’s really my fault. I should have dealt with this a long time ago. I foolhardily believed that if I were elected, she’d change her mind. And if I couldn’t change her mind, I thought she’d more or less quietly slip away, back to New York and her career. Since that’s no longer an option, the public needs to hear the truth from us.”

  No one spoke.

  Finally Ed asked, “Has Ashley gone to bed, or is she available?”

  “She’s on the phone,” Michael responded. “I’ll see how much longer she’ll be.”

  He stepped into the bedroom and interrupted his wife’s conversation. “The advisory team is here, and they’d like to speak with you. Will you be much longer?”

  Ashley didn’t bother to cover the receiver with her hand. “It’s Sienna. She says congratulations. Give me a few minutes, and then I’ll be out.”

  Michael nodded and left the room. He could have predicted the call was from her cousin. They seemed to have an almost cosmic connection when it came to sensing when the other one needed something. Two sisters couldn’t be any closer.