She felt a hand on her shoulder gently shaking her, “Ashley, turn off the alarm.”
“Hmm . . . um . . . ’kay.”
As her dream world receded, reality began to take shape more clearly. She wasn’t a morning person, period. She always needed awhile to shake off her somnolent state. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, let alone get up and walk around. Her first word in the morning was almost always “coffee.”
Michael shook her again. “Come on, sleepyhead. Up and at ’em. You’ll go back to sleep if you don’t get up now. It’s a beautiful day.”
Michael was the definitive morning person, the kind you wanted to hate but would feel small for doing so. He awoke rested and ready for what the day had to offer. Ashley thought it was unholy to wake up so cheerful, only because her internal clock swung in another direction.
She rolled onto her side, pushed herself up into a sitting position, swept her hair out of her eyes, and looked down at the floor and her legs. Again, she wondered what crazed person had set the barbaric, yet generally accepted, work day hours. She looked over at Michael, who was already dressed. He looked like every woman’s idea of the perfect man, strikingly handsome while exuding a powerful masculinity. He was everything she’d ever wanted, the love of her life.
Ashley finally stood and dressed for a day that would most definitely leave its mark on her, Michael, and history. She chose a rich teal silk pantsuit with a mandarin collar and large black frog closures down the front of the jacket. The rich color was bound to improve her mood. She’d always loved unusual, vintage, and distinctive clothing. The artful designs in the items she chose never failed to boost her spirits.
A knock at the door indicated the twins had arrived. Ashley opened the door with a dramatic bow as Jeremy sauntered past with Juliette bringing up the rear. Jeremy pretended he didn’t see his mother until he turned and grabbed her, lifting her off her feet while giving her a bear hug. Juliette waited until Jeremy was through with his antics to give her mother a peck on the cheek.
Jeremy was a force to be reckoned with. He had his father’s good looks but his mother’s coloring, fair skin and ash-blond hair, with the exception of his aquamarine eyes. He was often compared to a younger Brad Pitt. He had a devil-may-care attitude yet could slash you with his words if he so chose. He was fairly immune to the whole political scene, having cut his baby teeth on it. He admired his father and was proud of him; still, politics would be the last profession he’d choose for himself.
Juliette was more like her dad in personality. She loved to tease but took things far more seriously than her brother did. Ashley once found her at age four giving a speech to all of her dolls about the seriousness of driving without wearing seat belts. While both of their children were sensitive, Juliette tended to wear her heart on her sleeve while Jeremy either used sarcasm or took action to deal with his emotions.
They were close and communicated with one another as only twins can. They instinctively knew what the other needed and often called the other based on a “hunch.” They had a strong sense of commitment and devotion to their parents and their family. They didn’t want to choose sides.
Jeremy flopped down on the sofa while Juliette perched on the arm of one of the side chairs. “Do you feel like a condemned woman about to eat her last meal?” Jeremy asked.
“Not exactly, although it’s so sweet of you to make that analogy.” Ashley smiled at her son as she reached for the phone to call room service. “Do you know what you want for breakfast?”
Michael walked into the room. “I want pancakes and eggs and a pot of coffee strong enough to part my hair.”
Ashley zeroed in on Michael’s mood. Not good, not good at all. She sent a silent prayer heavenward. Please, God, help me get through the next couple of hours.
Michael asked, “Anyone here want to cancel on this morning’s press conference?”
“Dad, I know you and Mom are going to be under fire this morning, and I’m sorry about that, but I’m glad Mom will have the chance to share her position. I think it’s a good thing for America to know that even the president and his family disagree on issues. The idea that politicians have this perfect Norman Rockwell family is ridiculous,” Jeremy said.
“It may be ridiculous to you. Unfortunately it’s what’s expected for the president and his family and for anyone with a political career,” his father said..
Jeremy sighed. “We know you were born for this job, but Mom shouldn’t have to do something she hates. Maybe this will turn out to be a good thing. It’s just possible some people will relate to her. Maybe the time is right. But I wouldn’t rule out the fact that she could end up on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.”
“And, if that were to happen, I’d expect you to figure out a way to keep me one step ahead of the law,” Ashley grinned.
“I hate the fact that my decision is causing such chaos, and I’m truly sorry for any negativity it’s generated toward you, Michael. I know what I said last night came as a shock to those who heard it. Hopefully I’ll have the chance to explain my position with more clarity this morning. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about today and the future, but I have to have faith that somehow everything will work out.”
Juliette shook her head. “I agree with Dad on this. Sorry, Mom. I know how much you love your job and the museum, but I don’t see why you can’t put that on hold while Dad is in office. It doesn’t get any bigger or more significant than being the wife of the president of the United States. I don’t think anything is more important than supporting him right now.”
At times like this, Ashley wished she hadn’t encouraged her children to speak their minds. She knew she had only herself to blame for their opinionated responses. Jeremy was heavily involved in social justice while Juliette was more traditional like her dad. Therefore, conversations around the kitchen table were full of passionate opinions and arguing. Nature versus nurture theorists would have a field day analyzing their family dynamics.
Breakfast arrived. For a while they were just an ordinary family sharing a meal and catching up on the news about their lives. Ashley loved having the kids around. They never failed to cheer her up with their banter on every topic from politics to movie trivia. Their conversation was a welcome relief from the turbulent political waters swirling around them.
An unwelcome knock on the door interrupted their small, momentary family oasis. Ed rushed in carrying a couple of newspapers. Anticipation and dread followed him into the room and chased normalcy out, kicking the door shut behind it.
Ed began, “It’s pretty much what we expected. The headlines read, ‘Taylor Wins! Mrs. Taylor Declines!’ The other papers have some version of the same headline. Fox News is crucifying you and Ashley. MSNBC isn’t damning you, but their opinion varies depending on whom you’re watching, and network news is fact-checking like mad to understand what’s happening. At the press conference this morning, you both need to lay it out for the American people how this decision came to be, how you’re going to handle it, Michael, etcetera.” Ed shook his head as he looked down at the headline again.
“Dad, what are you thinking?” Juliette asked.
Michael shook his head and pressed his lips firmly together. “I’m thinking what a mess this is. I’m thinking how I wish your mom wanted to serve as the First Lady, and I’m naturally wondering how all of this is going to affect my presidency. The newspaper’s headlines only confirm what I already knew. The country isn’t ready for your mom’s position, and they may never be. They want a First Lady, and she’s throwing the role and tradition in their faces. No one is going to take this lightly.”
Jeremy jumped in before his mother could say anything that would escalate the animosity that was growing in the room. “We all agree. The headlines and newscasts only confirm what we suspected. I don’t think anyone here thought the press was going to praise Mom for her decision. Won’t a more accurate assessment of public opinion come after Mom’s had a chance to speak her piec
e at the news conference this morning?”
No one spoke.
Ashley broke the silence by addressing her children. “Maybe you should reconsider attending. There’s no reason to have you mixed up in this mess.”’
“I’m going,” insisted Jeremy.
“Me, too,” echoed Juliette.
Ashley realized Michael was watching her, or rather she felt as though he were dissecting her. She could see nothing in his face or body language that indicated a positive attitude. She knew she was to blame for this crisis, but she also knew she had to ride out the storm without capitulating at the first sign of criticism.
She’d always known the path she’d chosen wasn’t going to be easy, and she knew it would become a lot worse. Her stubborn streak was already getting rod stiff and unyielding. She was upset and frustrated but knew heightened emotions right now would serve no purpose. Staying calm and resolute for the press conference was imperative.
As if he were immune to all of the family dynamics, Ed announced, “It’s time to go down to the ballroom. Ashley, you have just enough time to change your clothes, if you hurry.”
Jeremy started laughing, which temporarily broke the tension in the room. He was waiting to see what his mother was going to say.
Ashley smiled and cocked her head to the right. “Is there something wrong with what I’m wearing, Ed? Perhaps a Nancy Reagan red suit or Barbara Bush pearls would be more to your liking?”
“Of course not. What you’re wearing looks beautiful. Although, truthfully, I’m used to seeing First Ladies dressed more traditionally.”
“Whoa on the whole First Lady thing. Instead of worrying about how I’m dressed, don’t you think we should get going?”
Michael stood. “Ashley, may I see you in the bedroom for a minute before we go?”
Without waiting for her response, he began walking toward the back room.
“Everybody breathe. He’s not going to murder me while you’re here. Too many witnesses. We’ll be out in a minute.”
Once Ashley closed the door to the bedroom, she turned and looked at Michael. She could feel the fury radiating off of his body in waves.
“There’s still time for you to change your mind. There’s no shame in having a change of heart. No real harm has been done, yet. Just a lot of rumors flying around.”
Ashley shook her head. “I’m not going to change my mind, Michael. I wish I could spare you the pain and embarrassment I’m causing you, but I can’t live in your world. I love you. It’s politics I can’t stand.”
Michael didn’t respond to his wife’s declaration. Whether she realized it or not, they were adversaries. Without another word, he turned and left the room.
“Well, that went well,” Ashley said out loud.
Part of her wanted to run to Michael and fix things. It would be so much easier to give in to the pressure and do what everyone wanted her to do. Unquestionably, if she did what was expected, she’d be operating on remote control and would only be going through the motions of having a real life. That seemed okay with everyone else as long as she didn’t rock the boat. If she did what they wanted, they might as well put her on Prozac now.
She walked out of the bedroom with her head held high. “Everyone try to relax. No matter how pushy or belligerent the press may get, I can deal with it. We’d better head down to the ballroom and get this party started.”
7
As Michael and Ashley approached the ballroom, a secret service agent stepped forward to open the door. The media stood and began applauding. Ashley was aware that the twins had stepped behind and were following them to the platform. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear her pulse in her ears. So much was at stake. What she said next and how well she could convey her sincerity to the public were crucial.
Other emotions were warring inside her too. She felt a good deal of righteous indignation over being in the middle of this controversy. Was she truly the first president’s wife to have these thoughts? Perhaps others had, but she was the first to act on them. As Michael and the twins took their seats on the dais, Ashley stepped into place next to Jack at the podium.
Jack spoke briefly, setting the tone for the press conference, and then introduced her. Ashley looked at the reporters who were waiting for her to begin. She got the fleeting impression of an impending feeding frenzy when chum is thrown into water full of sharks, only in this instance, she was the chum.
“Good morning, everyone. Thank you for coming to a quickly scheduled news conference. I’m thrilled my husband was elected president. I truly believe he’s the best man for the job. I love him and always want to offer him my support. I treasure my role as his wife and the mother of our children. But what you’ve most likely heard is true. I don’t intend to assume the role of First Lady, which is the reason we’ve scheduled this conference. We wanted you all to hear the truth about the situation and be able to ask the many questions we assume you have.”
A low, continuous sound arose from the reporters as they shifted in their seats, whispered to the reporter sitting next to them, and leaned forward a bit more to hear Mrs. Taylor better. Their eyes shifted quickly from Ashley’s face to President-elect Taylor’s in an attempt to gauge his reaction to her statement. There was none.
“My decision was not made lightly or on a whim. While I’ve never been interested in politics, I strongly believe Michael will be a great president, which is one of the reasons I campaigned for him so vigorously over the last year. It’s never been a secret that I don’t enjoy politics or being in the political arena.
“My passion is art and, as many of you know, I’m the director of the Cameron Museum of Art in Manhattan. I love my job, and I don’t believe I should have to give up what I love any more than I would expect my husband to give up his interests for me. Now that Michael has been elected, I’ll be returning to New York.
“Isn’t it time to ask the question: Is the First Lady role a necessity or merely a byproduct of being the wife of the elected president? I believe that each woman, and someday man, should have the choice of whether or not they want to be part of their spouse’s political life. I don’t believe it should be a foregone conclusion.
“Previous First Ladies have considered it an honor to work alongside their husbands and have championed many important causes while their husbands were in office. We’ve been very fortunate to have First Ladies who were so passionate and dedicated to their work, and I salute them.
“Except for tradition, why does this have to be so complicated, so shocking? We’re already a nation of two-career families. That’s not new. We already have commuter marriages where husbands and wives live in different cities due to their jobs. That’s not new. Isn’t it time for current family dynamics and traditions to intersect with past, established customs? Or in other words, isn’t this an issue whose time has come?
“I hope in the days and weeks to come, you’ll begin to recognize my decision isn’t so implausible but actually has merit. Thank you for your time. If you have any questions, I’ll be happy to answer them.”
Jack stepped forward to handle the avalanche of questions. He pointed to a reporter. “Chuck, your question?”
“Mrs. Taylor, do you think it was fair to the American public to withhold this information prior to the election?”
Ashley adjusted the microphone. “I don’t think it was a matter of fairness. It wasn’t pertinent, in my opinion. The public was electing a president, not a First Lady.”
Jack pointed to another reporter. “Stan, your question?”
“Mrs. Taylor, other educated, professional women have been in your shoes, yet they chose to become the First Lady and work alongside their husbands. Why can’t you do the same?”
“Again, I believe that whether or not the spouse of the president steps into that role should be a choice, not a foregone conclusion.”
Stan pushed for another question before Jack could call on someone else. “If art is your passion, wouldn’t you
have more impact working on a national level than working at the Manhattan museum of art?”
Ashley leveled a determined look at the reporter. “I think it comes down to how you want to interact with your passion. As the director of the museum, I deal firsthand with all the details associated with art collections: procuring, exhibiting, storing valuable art, exchanges with other museums, overseeing research projects and educational programs, fund-raising, and writing grant proposals and journal articles. Plus our museums promotes art internationally, not just here at home. I like the hands-on aspect of my job. I’m not interested in being a figurehead. I’d rather be in the thick of things.”
Jack called on another reporter.
“Mrs. Taylor, do you realize the negative impact your decision could have on your husband’s presidency?”
Ashley smiled. “Did you vote for my husband? No, don’t tell me; that was a hypothetical question. I don’t think you’re giving Michael as much credit as he deserves. He’s very smart and resourceful and an excellent problem solver. Why should my decision have a negative impact? I believe that’s faulty thinking. My husband’s decisions on key issues have nothing to do with whether or not I’m living in the White House. My choice becomes an issue only when others make it an issue.”
“Sherry, your question,” Jack indicated with a nod of his head.
A female reporter stood. “Forgive me for being blunt, Mrs. Taylor, but is there a problem in your marriage?”
Jack stepped forward to take over, but Ashley stopped him from commandeering the microphone.
Ashley stared the woman down. “That’s exactly the kind of assumption I expected.
“Michael and I do not have a problem in our marriage. We don’t agree on the position I’m taking, but I’ll let him tell you that himself. The bigger concern I have is that you immediately jumped to that conclusion. I fully expect when I return to New York that rumors will begin to circulate about our marriage. They won’t be true, but that won’t stop the rumor mill. I love my husband and he loves me. People can agree to disagree and still love one another.”
The Reluctant First Lady Page 4