I laughed cynically and looked to the sky. Bo had just put into words the same anxiety that incessantly nipped at my heels, informing my every move. “I have no idea, Bo. I can’t hide from that fear, either.” Maybe it was Bo’s vulnerability, or little Fiona’s insistence that one should not be a dirty liar, but right then, I couldn’t avoid meeting my regrets honestly. I looked them in the face, and, as Grandduff used to say, they were as ugly as homemade sin. “I’ve made some bad choices recently,” I said. I’d been meaning to say something to Bo since the Darley fiasco, and now I had the words. “My plan, basically, of blackmailing Melinda Darley was a stupid idea, and it was wrong, and I’m really sorry I put you and Miles in that position.”
“You were playing the game,” replied Bo. He wasn’t sympathetic, just stating a fact.
“Yes,” I agreed, picturing the classroom, the children with their muscles and the word that had come to me: character. “But maybe I’m done playing it.”
Bo nodded. “I think that’s right,” he said. “I think that might be part of what gets this knot out of my chest. We have to live on our own terms, not disappearing into someone else’s expectations for us.” He was serious for a moment, then let his head fall back and yelled, startling into flight some birds settled under the school’s cornice, drawing some very confused stares from the playground’s occupants, each word its own exclamation: “I’m. Never. Going. To. Be. A. Lawyer!”
It was so wildly out of character that we both burst out laughing.
“I’d recommend some screaming,” said Bo after I had wiped my eyes with a napkin he’d found in a pocket. “Very therapeutic. Get your voice out there. Make it loud. Do you want to try it?”
“Yes!” I smiled. “What should I say?”
“It’s your last day on earth,” said Bo. “What do you want people to know?”
Before I could think too hard about the kindergartners and their teachers less than fifty feet away, I cupped my hands around my mouth and, somewhere between a yell and a holler, declared to the world, “My. Father. Stole. For. Me!”
Bo widened his eyes. “Damn,” he croaked. “That was a little more—truthful than I expected.”
“Melinda Darley wasn’t wrong,” I said, strangely peaceful, a lightness in my body that hadn’t been there before. “My tuition, my father stole it. I don’t want to be dishonest to you anymore.”
“You do know what would happen if—” said Bo.
He didn’t have to finish his sentence. “I know,” I said.
We were quiet for a time, listening to the drone of bugs and chattering of children. My announcement had made only a minor ripple in the summer air; people were now back to their regularly scheduled playground business, not sparing us another glance. There was reassurance in the reminder that I was just another random person in the world. I could do something silly in public and it wouldn’t really matter, in the end.
June
Thirty-Two
Ari marched into my office in a coral body-hugging dress and navy blazer, her hair in a no-nonsense bun. She had emailed late the night before, saying it was urgent.
“Coffee?” I asked after we did the required hug.
“I don’t suppose you have an espresso machine?” she said as she placed herself in one of the chairs across from my desk.
I almost laughed but then realized she was serious. “This is the government. We have a tub of Maxwell House.”
“In that case, I’ll decline.”
I closed the door, though it was seven thirty in the morning and we were the only two there. Since the meeting with Melinda Darley and Co. last month, I’d always made sure I was in first. Sara would come in next, followed by Bo, but hopefully this was early enough to squirrel Ari out before anyone discovered she’d been there. I didn’t know the reason for her request, but the terseness of her email led to me to believe this wouldn’t be another friendly chat. Was she upset about Atlas showing up drunk at my apartment? He’d told me a funny story, went home to his bed, and I went back to mine. A couple of weeks passed. Roll credits.
“I appreciate you coming so early,” I said. “I have to go to the Bowie office today.” It was a torturous assignment—the Bowie office was full of well-intentioned yet notorious time-wasters and slackers-off—but at least Miles wasn’t sending me to basement meetings anymore, thanks in no small measure to the success of Literacy Week. If I could keep making myself useful, delivering respectable victories, both legislative and otherwise, I just might be able to scrape and claw my way back. Which is to say, I could leave what happened in the past there, and focus on improvements for the future.
“Bowie?” Ari made a face: ew.
She didn’t take her eyes off me as I fell into my seat and folded my hands on my desk, near my phone. I doubted anyone would call me at this hour, but I wanted to be quick on the draw in case someone might rescue me and allow me to excuse myself. “You were rather cryptic in your email,” I said. “What did you need to talk to me about?”
“I watched the Darley hearings,” Ari said, rolling her neck like she was ready to box. “And was underwhelmed. I kept waiting for Miles’s big moment, to reveal our ace in the hole.”
“Right,” I said deliberately, needing to pivot from thoughts of Atlas to Miles. “Turns out it wasn’t such an ace. More like a three of clubs.”
This stunned her. “You’ve got to be kidding. Daisy, you were supposed to use that intel. Otherwise, I would’ve leaked to our guy at the Post a week ago. We needed Darley weakened.”
Not wanting to divulge the particulars of why we hadn’t, I considered my next move carefully. “It was my total intention to use it. Miles thinks we are best served by keeping it quiet for now. Using it as leverage after she gets confirmed.”
“Get your story straight, Daisy.” She got up from her chair and placed both palms on my desk. “Either you didn’t use it because it’s nothing, or it’s something, and you’re going to wield it later. I did you a favor, bringing you this. Daisy.” She said my name again, this time stretching out the last syllable. In her mouth, my name sounded like a rebuke. “Were you too afraid of using it, or what?”
This I did not like. I’d presumed she’d be disappointed, perplexed, maybe even angry. But calling me a chicken? Too far. “Don’t confuse patient strategy with panic, Ari. You gave me the intel. You told me I could do with it what I wanted. Well, we want to wait.”
“All right.” She shrugged, sat again, recrossed her legs. “The confirmation vote is tomorrow. I guess I can leak it today and we might get somewhere.”
I lounged back, tried to look disinterested. If she leaked this, Melinda Darley would surely assume it was us, and my and Wallis’s secret would be out. I would have to call Ari’s bluff; it was the only way to protect our agreement with Melinda Darley. “Come on, Ari. You don’t want to do that. The confirmation vote will steamroll the coverage, and media will move on before it can gain any traction. Releasing it now would barely cause a ripple. Wait, though, until later, and see where we can use it. She might screw up, and we can bundle it on top of other gaffes or missteps.” I paused, unbreathing, hoping she would buy it.
She pouted, but didn’t object. “God, okay, but this isn’t a good look for me. I’m going to have to sell this to people.”
I turned to my computer, clicked randomly on a few browser tabs, just so she wouldn’t catch the relief on my face. “It seems like you could sell a screen door to a submarine,” I said and meant it. “I don’t imagine you’ll—”
My office phone beeped. Sara, on the intercom. “Good morning,” she said. “Your next meeting is here.”
“My next meeting?” I flipped through my day planner. Had I forgotten one?
“Daisy.” Atlas’s voice filled the office from the intercom. “I’m due to be on the Hill soon, but I thought I’d take a chance and drop in on you.”
“Um,” I said, as Ari cocked her head. My hand hovered over the receiver; I contemplated whether I should take him off speaker. But would that look more suspicious? “Well—” I stalled.
“I brought you that latte you like, from that place. Went six blocks out of my way. I stole a sip, and you’re right, it is truly fantastic.”
I waited for Ari to broadcast her presence. But she didn’t. Her lips were pressed tight, her smile painted and insincere. Here was her boyfriend, I saw, bringing me gourmet coffee. But he was my friend, and we, the three of us, would have to make it work. “Come on back,” I said. When I hung up, I raised my hands to Ari, as if to prove my innocence.
“Is this a habit of his?” she asked, gesturing around my office, her enamel bangles rattling on her wrist. “Dropping in unannounced?”
I didn’t dislike Ari, but bearing witness to her jealousy was a small luxury I couldn’t help but welcome. Later that night, she might post a photo of herself and Atlas, together, smiling lovingly, but today, this morning, I could have this.
We both heard his footsteps in the hall. I got up to open my office door and met him with a smile. Atlas gave me a friendly hug and handed me a very tall to-go cup. “There,” he said. “An offering. Forgive me, for dropping in on you so abominably early.” Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Ari, sitting, observing.
“You better come in,” I said before he could say anything truly incriminating, “and see who’s here.”
“Hi, babe!” She rose and embraced him with a tenderness that seemed overly theatrical.
I retreated behind my desk as they sorted where to sit.
“This is a happy coincidence,” Atlas said after an uncomfortable silence. Then, to his girlfriend: “I didn’t know you were seeing Daisy today. I could’ve tagged along.”
“That’s what you get for spending the night at your apartment instead of mine.” Ari spun her finger in the air. “You fall out of the loop.”
“Yeah,” he said, although it didn’t seem like he knew what he was agreeing with. He chewed his bottom lip. “Yeah,” he repeated, to his own nervous beat. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Thank you for the coffee,” I jumped in. “It’s much needed.”
“Isn’t he the sweetest man on the planet?” Ari asked me. “He does these kinds of things for his friends. He’s so thoughtful. But you know this, of course.”
“I do.” I sipped from my cup, though the drink had gone cold, to hide my smile.
“So,” Atlas said. “How is everyone?” Then he laughed, sounding strained.
“We were just catching up,” Ari said. “On the latest gossip. Girl stuff.”
Atlas looked at me. “Daisy, discussing girl stuff?”
I shrugged. “I am a girl, Atlas.”
“Like he needs the reminder,” Ari said. “What are you doing here, babe? Besides being a coffee lackey.”
I studied Atlas, the way he ran his fingertips over his temple, considering, always considering. If only I could know what he was thinking now. “I was,” he said, “just—I mean—” He started patting the pockets of his jeans as though looking for his wallet or keys.
“Jesus!” exclaimed Ari. “It’s not an algebra problem.”
I hated to see him unsettled. “He’s making perfect sense to me,” I said. He, grateful, was finally able to meet my eyes. And for a moment, it was just Atlas and me in the room, our history between us, a rope pulled taut.
There was a brief knock on the door, and Wallis shot in like a comet, arms outstretched, going on about how happy she had been to hear from Sara that Atlas was here, how much she’d missed him. Atlas stood, and when they hugged, she kicked up both her feet from the floor.
“This,” I said, as they finished greeting each other, “is quite the party at eight in the morning. What are you doing here, Wallis?” And what were the chances of her leaving without a formal introduction to Ari? Next to impossible? No. Intertwined with impossible.
“I’m meeting with a deputy LA down the hall later,” Wallis said, attention still on Atlas, who was back in his chair, crossing and recrossing his legs restlessly, “and thought I’d pop in to say hello.”
“How was Charleston?” he asked her. “I haven’t seen you in what, over a month?”
“Awful,” Wallis said, coming to sit on the edge of my desk. “Both the trip and the fact that it’s been that long since we’ve hung out. I mean, Charleston is a gorgeous city, but it ended up being a disaster. Daisy can fill you in. At least Daisy came back looking positively sun-kissed.”
Three sets of eyes focused on me, and I resisted the urge to squirm in my chair. “It’s faded by now,” I said.
“We’re working on Daisy’s ability to take a compliment,” Wallis said, turning back to Atlas. “Aren’t we?”
“We are.” On Atlas’s face was a measure of amusement and something else I couldn’t place.
“It’s likely our poor Daisy doesn’t like being the center of attention,” Ari said, and Wallis’s head swiveled toward her. “I wonder if we should just let her be. Look how she’s blushing! I don’t think that is the sun.”
“Wallis,” I said, submitting myself to the inevitable and gesturing toward Ari. “I’d like to introduce you to Ari. She’s on K Street.”
Ari stood and stretched out her hand. “So good,” she said, “to meet you. Atlas talks about how fabulous you are.”
Wallis was the picture of confusion. “You know Atlas?” she asked.
“They’re together,” I answered for the room.
“Happily,” Ari said, with a tilt of the head. “I have the very good fortune of being this tall drink of water’s girlfriend.”
Wallis stared at me, speechless, though I felt nothing except a calm hollowness in my core, as though I were the eye of a storm.
Atlas continued to look at his shoes. It didn’t seem he’d prepared himself for the day the three of us would be together. Which, I had to be honest, was strange. What did he expect? Ari and I had hung out. She was on K Street and I on the Hill. He had to predict that our worlds would collide. I’d go to my grave loving him, but, God, sometimes he was so dense. If Ari thought I placed her relationship in any kind of jeopardy, she had severely overestimated me. And Atlas was not a cheater. When he made a commitment, he did not betray it. “Ari’s been living in London,” I said. “She’s back now.” In the silence that followed, I drank from the latte Atlas had delivered.
As for Ari, she reached over the arm of her chair and wrapped her hand around Atlas’s forearm, her fingertips digging into his shirt. “We should all get dinner,” she declared, and I almost choked on my coffee. That was exactly what we all needed, more weird tension, next time with appetizers! “You should come over to my apartment. I’ll cook. What about this Saturday?”
“I’m not sure,” said Wallis, collecting herself. “Maybe Daisy and I should check our calendars before committing.”
“Of course,” said Ari. “You both are no doubt in high demand, you single girls in the city. Unlike us old homebody types.” With this she smiled at Atlas, saccharine.
“Thanks for coming by,” I announced, thoroughly done with the show.
“No trouble at all,” Ari said. “Now, I’ve got a meeting with the Speaker. That man is useless at keeping staff.” She rolled her eyes, as though to say, men. “At least there’s always good chocolate at his reception desk.”
“And I’m off, too,” Atlas said.
“No,” Wallis said, “I’ve only just gotten here. We have so much to catch up on. You can’t leave yet.”
Her pleas, as enthusiastic as they were, did nothing to sway him. As I followed them out, I noticed Miles’s door was still closed. He’d scheduled a breakfast meeting this morning, and he wouldn’t be in for another hour or so. This was good; I suspected when I returned to my office, Wallis would have some words for me, and I’d rath
er not my boss overhear.
Once my door was shut again, Wallis wheeled on me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There’s been a lot going on, Wallis. I only found out a few weeks ago.” The emptiness I’d just felt upon seeing Atlas and Ari together, for the first time in the flesh, was now filling with a burning, aching heat. I was tempted to fan myself with printer paper.
“What’s a few?” she asked. “Two? More?”
“I’m not sure.” Why did I still feel the need to obfuscate? Wallis had seen Ari with her own two eyes, heard the word girlfriend, seen her clutch Atlas in front of me.
“That’s a lie,” she said, arms crossed over her chest.
I collapsed into my office chair and leaned my head against the back of it. “Ari came back in April. I ran into her at your boss’s book party. And here we are.”
“In April? Before we went to Charleston? Dodo, why on earth didn’t you tell me? I’m your sister. If we don’t share each other’s burdens then what is the point?”
I removed my eyes from my office ceiling and trained them across the desk on Wallis. “Don’t be angry,” I said, stretching my arms out, gesturing that she should sit in the chair Atlas had occupied only minutes ago. “Please.”
“I’m not angry!” Her tone, and the fact that she remained in her current stance, undercut these words to some extent. “I love you. I just wish you could be as vulnerable with me as I am with you. It’s so easy for me to open up to you. I don’t even give it a second thought. Sometimes it hurts when I see you holding things back. God, Daisy.” She sighed. “All this time. All this time you’ve been carrying this by yourself. How have you managed it?”
“I’ve managed just fine.” She didn’t want to sit? All right. I stood and walked to my window. I had a view of the squat police station below, an armed officer keeping watch from behind concrete barricades. The image was reflective of how I’d been feeling these past months: defensive, on guard. The unintended by-product had been missing my mother’s grief, isolating myself from my sister’s honest gaze that always held me to account. But I’d done it for all of us. “There were other things that took precedence.”
Ladies of the House Page 24