The Reluctant First Lady

by Venita Ellick

  “He’s in a meeting, but I’ll see if he can break free to take your call. Please hold the line.”

  Ashley heard the difference in the sound of the connection as she was placed on hold. It was going to take a whole bottle of antacids to get through this. She was just plain dumb to feel this nervous about talking to her own husband. Of course, it was guilt. Guilt over her decision to return to work, guilt over leaving Michael the way she had, and guilt over not calling for almost a week.

  Georgia came back on the line. “Hold on, Ashley. I’m putting the call through to his office.”

  “Thanks, Georgia.”

  Ashley heard Michael pick up. “Hello, stranger.”

  She felt as though the nerve endings in her body were totally exposed. She could even feel her pulse accelerating. Damn it. Well, the best course of action was a good opening line.

  “Hi, Michael. Think we can have a civilized discussion? Or is banishing me to a Third World country still on the table? I’m really sorry I’ve let so much time go by without contacting you.”

  Typical Ashley. One thing she didn’t do was mince words. She aimed her arrow and let it fly. “I could have called you, too. I’ve been absolutely swamped,” Michael confessed. The excuse sounded lame even to him although it was true. “I was going to call you after my meeting, as a matter of fact, and catch you up on what’s been going on here. Plus, I wanted to hear how things are going in New York.”

  “You go first,” Ashley insisted. “I’m sure my news isn’t nearly as exciting as yours.”

  “As you might expect, it’s been nonstop meetings and decisions regarding the transition and appointments I’ll be making. There are so many things to do during this time of transferring from one administration to the next; it’s mind-boggling. We’ve all been pretty much living on caffeine, but we’ve made good progress in a number of areas. We made a decision about how to deal with your absence from the First Lady position. Do you want to hear about it?”

  “Absolutely. I’d love to hear what you’ve decided, and I mean that sincerely.”

  “Well, after much deliberation, we’ve created a position we’re calling the director of protocol. We’ve designed it to be flexible yet one that will assume some of the responsibilities of past First Ladies and leave room for what we haven’t anticipated. We brainstormed a variety of ideas, and this one seemed the most pragmatic.”

  “Good for you. I had every confidence that you would come up with a good alternative. I know it’s not what you wanted, but it sounds like an excellent solution. In fact, you’ll be setting a precedent for future presidents and their spouses. I think that’s brilliant. When do you plan to fill the position?”

  “I’ve already offered the position to someone.”

  “In less than a week, you’ve created a new position and filled it? My, you have been busy, but then I’ve always had faith in you and knew once you started working seriously on the issue, you’d come up with an effective solution. Who’s the lucky person?”

  “Paula Foulon.”

  There was silence on Ashley’s end of the phone. She was trying to get over the jealousy that just stabbed her heart.

  Ashley repeated, “Paula Foulon?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, we met today to discuss the position, and she didn’t hesitate to accept it. She understands the parameters I’m trying to establish, and I think she’ll do a good job. She enjoys the political scene and seems to be excited to work in my administration.”

  I’ll just bet she is. Paula had never impressed Ashley. She’d witnessed how manipulative Paula was with both her husband and her father, the kind of manipulation that men didn’t often recognize. She threw her money, her family, and her social status in other people’s faces. She’d once heard her put another politician’s wife down because of her background, which made Ashley wonder what Paula was saying behind her back. Maybe other people didn’t recognize a barracuda when they saw one, but Ashley did. Paula would kill to get her hooks into Michael and the whole White House scene. She was quite sure Paula would do her best to insinuate herself into Michael’s life.

  Ashley had met several women like her at political functions and the museum’s Black Tie Dinner. They were pampered, spoiled, and rich. It didn’t bother them in the least that their status had been achieved through their husband’s or their family’s work or good name. Her type felt privilege was an entitlement.

  “Sounds like a match made in heaven. It seems your problem has been solved and all the wringing of hands was over nothing.”

  “You know damn well I didn’t want to have to do this. I’m sorry if you’re not happy with the choice I’ve made, but I needed to move quickly. I wanted you to hear about it before I announce it at a press conference. I didn’t want the information to come out of left field for you.”

  “Thank you. That was very considerate. I know this is a touchy subject for us, and I have no right to feel anything about the decisions you’ve made. I’m glad you found a solution, and I truly hope it works out. Really, honey, congratulations to you and your team for finding an alternative to an extremely delicate and explosive situation. I hope the press and public accept it and you can move on.”

  “I hope so, too. Are you being hounded by the press?”

  “Constantly. I get dozens of calls every day from someone wanting an interview. I even got an anonymous letter threatening me. It seems some Neanderthal out there feels strongly that I’m not doing my wifely duty by you.”

  “It sounds as though you’re not taking the threat seriously. That would be a mistake,” Michael warned.

  “Give me a break. Someone is just letting off steam.”

  “Ashley, this could be serious, or it could be nothing at all. I know you think it’s a crackpot, but I want you to give the letter to your Secret Service agents so we can have it analyzed. There are a lot of screwballs out there, and you could be one of their targets. Promise me you’ll give the letter to your agents.”

  “I can’t. I threw it away.”

  “You threw a letter away that was evidence of your being threatened?”

  “Michael, please. I told you what I was thinking: Crackpot. If any more threatening letters are delivered, I’ll hand them over to my agents,” Ashley promised.

  “You need to understand: you’re fair game for people who are disgruntled, or worse, over your decision. It doesn’t matter where you live—here, in New York, or Timbuktu—you’re still a possible target.”

  “Okay, okay. I don’t like it, but I get it. The Secret Service will scan not only my packages but everything that comes to the museum before they turn it over to us. That should calm you down somewhat.”

  “Good. I’ve also notified Homeland Security and let them know about the threat.”

  “How could you have already notified Homeland Security when I just told you about the threatening letter I received? Wait . . . you already knew about the threat to me, didn’t you?

  “Yes and no. The day after our press conference, Ed and Jack informed me of a threat made against you. We put everything into motion then to find out what we could and placed the necessary protection around you that we deemed prudent. I didn’t know you’d personally received a threat until you mentioned the letter to me just now. Just promise me you’ll keep the agents around you informed of anything suspicious or any further threats,” Michael pleaded.

  “I will, but you realize how crazy this is? Right? You’ve been in politics for years, and I went completely unnoticed. Now, I’m shark bait.” Ashley sighed. “It’s inconceivable to me that someone would care so passionately about what I do or don’t do. Michael, what about Jeremy and Juliette? Has anyone threatened them?” Ashley held her breath waiting for his answer.

  “No. Don’t worry; they’re fine. Have you talked to them recently?”

  “Yes. I called them both when I got back to New York. They’re glad to be back at college. Juliette is dealing with security better than Jeremy, which was predic
table. I’m assuming campus security at both Stanford and Berkeley are working in conjunction with the Secret Service?”

  “Everything is being done to keep us all safe. The Secret Service is good at their job. Trust them and quit giving them a bad time,” Michael ordered.

  “Hey, I resent that. All I do is tease them. But you . . . you have to deal with them all the time. It’s hard to imagine why anyone would want to be president. It seems the negative aspects far outweigh the positive. How do you cope with all of the negativity, the lies, the manipulation, and the life-and-death decisions?”

  “For me, it will be a matter of keeping a clear focus on what’s good for the country and in the best interests of the American people.”

  “I understand the rewards of public service. Helping people is in my blood too. I just enjoy working at it on a much smaller scale than you. I like working in the trenches with people. Any kind of public service is a good thing.

  “Change of subject. How would you feel if I gave one in-depth interview? The press is not letting up, and I thought if I chose someone I felt I could trust . . .”

  “No matter what you do, you’ll never be able to satisfy the public. You’ve made yourself more of a media target by rejecting the role of the First Lady than if you hadn’t. People want to know all about you. I wish them luck. I’ve been married to you for over two decades, and I’m still surprised when you do the unexpected. Unfortunately, Ashley, the media is going to be part of your life from now on whether you like it or not. They’re completely fascinated with you. I know you hate it, but surely you recognize the truth in what I’m saying.”

  Michael’s comments were met with silence. Ashley knew he was right. She wished to God he wasn’t; she’d never asked for any of it.

  Michael continued, “But if you do decide to give an interview, I’d appreciate it if you’d wait until after the inauguration. Dealing with the media is tricky, and I’d like to see if there’s any chance that some of the hoopla over your decision will die down, especially in light of the new position I’ve created.”

  “Fair enough. If I decide to give an interview, I’ll wait until after the inauguration, and I’ll let you know about it well in advance. Another change of topic, are you planning on attending the Black Tie Dinner this year? As you might expect, I’ve been spending the majority of my time since I came back to New York working on the event.”

  “Honey, I don’t think it’s a good idea. You’re asking for far more headaches than you know. In the past when I’ve been there, it’s been as your husband. When I was a senator, it was no big deal. Now that I’ve been elected president, the amount of security that would need to be in place for me to be there, not to mention all the screening and security checks your guests would have to endure, would make the hassle not worth it for you and them. I want to attend—I do—but my coming will change the focus of the evening. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, unfortunately. I know you don’t like hearing this, and it’s unfair for me to say it, but I wish you’d never gone into politics. We didn’t have a clue how much our lives would be affected when you decided to run for public office. The media spotlight, the constant scrutiny, and being followed around by the secret service—it wasn’t anything we could ever have anticipated when we were younger. And I hate what it’s doing to us.”

  “I wish you wanted to be the First Lady. I wish you wanted to share this experience with me. I hate the fact that your life and our kids’ lives are being affected by my career decisions. I wish I could take all of the attention off of you, but let’s focus on what we can control. Is there any way you can come for a visit?”

  “How about this weekend? Can you fit me in?”

  “I’ll make sure my schedule is cleared to the extent I can. I’ve really missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, Michael, so much. Okay, we have a date for this coming weekend. You won’t forget, will you?”

  “Forget you? Not likely. I’m glad you called although I was planning to call you tonight after my meeting. After the inauguration, I hope I’ll be able to establish a little more of a normal work schedule, which should make it easier for us to plan times to be together.”

  “I’d love that. I’d welcome some consistency in our life even though you have taken on the biggest job in the United States. Did you have to aim so high? I’d like to remind you again—I love you; it’s politics I hate.”

  “Right back at you on the ‘love you’ part although I still wish I could get you to change your mind. What happened to the good old days when women did what they were told?”

  Ashley laughed. “Those would be the good old days for whom? Please, I beg you, don’t launch into your barbaric days of yore. I might ask, what happened to the Prince Edwards of the world? When he had to choose between the crown and Mrs. Simpson, he chose love. Ah, now those were the good old days.

  “Honey, I need to get back to work regardless of how much fun it is to sit here and exchange barbs with you over how women were once considered chattel and how long it took for women to get the vote. Congratulations again on finding a workable solution to the problem I created. I’ll see you Friday.”

  After hanging up, Ashley felt the knot in her stomach relax. Michael was the best medicine in the world for what ailed her. He’d always been. They were never at their best when they were at odds with one another or apart for very long.

  16

  Michael was relieved and pleased that Ashley had called. Their stalemate had come to an end, at least partially. He was still hurt and disappointed that she didn’t want to share his experience in the White House. He wondered if he’d ever get over how deeply she was hurting him. Even if he could eventually forgive her, hurt seemed to have a memory and a life all its own, a way of springing forth and setting itself free when you least expected it.

  Time to get back to work. He knew the meeting had come to a halt in his absence. No decisions could be made without his stamp of approval. When Georgia interrupted his meeting saying Ashley was on the phone, he had wanted to talk to her and was glad she had called. She was reaching out to him, trying to repair the gaping hole in their relationship.

  He hoped this coming weekend they could steer clear of the many land mines scattered between them. He missed the closeness they had shared before the election got in the way. Besides being his wife, Ashley was his best friend. That hadn’t changed, and he missed his best friend.

  Michael opened the door to the conference room, and eight pairs of eyes assessed his mood as he made his way to his chair. They knew it was Ashley who’d called, and they were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  “Sorry for the interruption,” Michael said. “Where were we?”

  Ed resumed the conversation. “We were just about to discuss the current opinion polls about Ashley. The numbers still show the majority of the nation disagreeing with her, but she’s gaining supporters with women in the eighteen to forty-five age group. Plus, there’s been a shift in the undecided category. She’s gained 3 percent in that group. A greater concern is the correspondence we’re receiving from other heads of state.

  Michael said, “It’s too early to gauge reactions. It’s been only about a week since Ashley’s decision became public knowledge. All we’re getting now is a read on knee-jerk reactions. It’s natural for there to be an adjustment period. I think we’ll have a far more accurate picture in a couple of months.”

  “True,” Ed agreed, “but we’ll continue to monitor the polls to see if there’s any shift in public opinion. At any rate, I think it’s time to move forward with your plan for the director of protocol.”

  Michael nodded. “I’ll announce the position tomorrow morning at the press conference. However, I’d like your feedback. Should we announce the position and introduce Paula at the same time? Or just announce the position and introduce Paula later?”

  “Personally,” Jack responded, “I think you should announce only the creation of the position tomorrow. If you
introduce Paula too soon, it will look like you’re moving too fast to replace your wife, like we had someone waiting in the wings.”

  “I agree. That was my take. So, we’ll announce the new position as part of transitioning from one administration to the other.”

  Ed added, “One of the key points we need to convey is that your administration is capable of handling anything that comes your way and not to act as if this has immobilized us.”

  Michael agreed. “I’ll have Georgia call Paula and let her know she won’t be needed at the meeting tomorrow. He stood up and stretched. “Let’s meet again first thing in the morning. We’ve got a lot to accomplish before the inauguration.”

  Everyone was keenly aware of the workload that lay ahead, but every member of Michael’s advisory team was still operating on an adrenaline high from winning the election. They had complete confidence in Michael’s ability to lead and be a great president. They felt fortunate to be part of such a historic event.

  Back at his apartment, Michael kicked off his shoes and raided the refrigerator. He plopped down on the sofa and covered his eyes with his forearm. Nothing had really gone as he’d expected this past week. Ashley’s announcement had dwarfed almost everything else. Michael was thankful he’d found a workable solution to the dilemma. He hoped he’d made the right choice in filling the void Ashley’s absence had created. He felt cautiously optimistic about the possibilities.

  17

  Some reporters talked among themselves while others recorded introductions for tapes that would be completed and aired after the press conference. There was an air of expectancy. They hadn’t been told ahead of time what would be discussed, so there was a great deal of speculation about what the newly elected president might be covering. With all of the drama of the past week, the reporters were ready for just about anything.

  President-elect Taylor was prompt. He walked into the room accompanied by Vice President-elect Hughes. Both were smiling and seemed in good humor. Ed Branton and Jack Sutton followed behind them closely.