by White, Karey
“I know. Can you imagine coming home to find your mom stoned or passed out?” Angela said. Across the room, Wyatt was directing three members of the wait staff toward a table in the middle. Angela leaned toward me. “I think we can all agree with that. Children should be playing with friends and going to the park, not cleaning up their mother’s vomit.”
Angela’s tone and use of the word “vomit” startled me. “It’s sad to think these children are suffering, and none of it is their fault. It makes me glad there are places like Mercy House.”
“Addiction is such a selfish thing. It’s abuse if you ask me,” Angela said and leaned to the side so a waiter could remove her plate. “So, tell me about this.” She motioned back and forth between Kyle and me. “You two make a gorgeous couple.”
“He’s a pretty great guy.”
Angela leaned toward me and lowered her voice. “Is it true you’re secretly engaged?”
I wouldn’t mind if that were true. “No. We’re just dating.”
“He must like you a lot to be making public appearances like this with you.” I smiled and speared my last roasted red potato. “Have you met the family?”
“Most of them. They’re really nice people.”
“Have you met his brothers?”
“All but one.”
“They’re quite the family.”
One waiter took my plate, and another placed a slice of chocolate cheesecake with berries in front of us. Angela pushed the berries aside and took a bite of the cheesecake. “This is why I volunteer for assignments like this. The food is almost always fantastic.”
I ate my dessert, as well. I’d have liked to take Angela’s berries off her hands since she didn’t want them, but I knew that wouldn’t make the best impression. “Would it be wrong to ask for seconds on this?” I asked, and Angela nodded.
“Have you met the youngest brother?” Angela asked between bites of dessert.
“Alex?” Angela nodded. “Yes, I’ve met him.”
“Having a son arrested for a DUI must be extra hard for a family in the public eye. Does he seem like the black sheep of the family?”
Thankfully, I didn’t have a chance to answer. “We’re so happy to hear from our special guests tonight.” The woman who had spoken earlier was back at the mic. “First, we’ll hear from Mayor Pinelli, then Senator Aldsworth, and then his son, rising star, Kyle Aldsworth. Mayor Pinelli.”
“I’m here with a rising star,” I whispered in Kyle’s ear, and he put his arm on the back of my chair.
The audience clapped, and the mayor took the stage, thanking Mercy House for the wonderful work they were doing and thanking the guests for generously giving to the worthy cause.
Next was Donald. “It’s a pleasure to be with you tonight. I was thrilled to get the invitation to attend tonight’s benefit and to be in the presence of so many of you good citizens of the bay area. Places like Mercy House deserve our attention and our generosity. Too often in today’s world, we see charities that ask for your money and promise you it’s going to a good cause, only to discover later that questions have arisen as to the validity of the charity and concerns have been raised about how much of the money actually makes it into the hands of those who need it.
“The beautiful thing about Mercy House is the money you give tonight goes to the children who are being cared for there. It isn’t going into the hands of a few greedy people. Catherine Merchant saw to that when she started it, and today it remains one of the shining examples of what can be done when people truly sacrifice for the good of others.
“I’m especially honored tonight to be joined by my good son, Kyle. Kyle is one of those sons every father hopes for, a son who works hard and makes something of himself. Kyle has become a man I’m proud of. He’s a man of honesty and integrity, and a man who stands up for those in need. When you’re a senator, there are many occasions and events where people introduce you and extoll your virtues. Sometimes it’s downright embarrassing. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t honored and proud to be able to introduce my son, Kyle Aldsworth.”
Donald stepped back from the microphone as Kyle walked up to the podium. They shook hands, and Donald patted Kyle on the shoulder. Then he returned to his seat, and Kyle began to speak.
“Many years ago, Catherine Merchant opened her home to three children whose parents had been ordered by the court to get medical help to overcome their drug and alcohol addictions. Catherine wasn’t a wealthy woman, but she had room in her home and love in her heart. It wasn’t long before she realized those three children she was helping were just a small percentage of those that needed the same kind of help. So she went out into the community and gathered together others who recognized the need and were willing to help.
“Within two years, she’d approached enough people that she was able to sell her home and buy the building that is now Mercy House. Over the years, hundreds of children have been saved by Catherine Merchant’s dream. Volunteers at Mercy House see to it that these children are fed, clothed and loved. They even help them with their homework.
“The bay area is a better place because of the work and love Mercy House offers, and I’m honored to donate today, on behalf of my family, a check for $30,000. I’d encourage all of you to open your hearts to these children and give generously.”
The room filled with applause as people stood and cheered the generous donation.
“I heard Kyle is being groomed to run for his father’s seat in the senate.” Angela was standing right beside me, her elbow bumping into mine as she clapped. “Is that true?”
I wasn’t sure what to say. Did the Aldsworths and Devon want people to know yet? I kept my eyes on Kyle.
“Charlotte?” Angela prodded.
“Isn’t he handsome?” I said as Kyle walked off the stage. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Angela shaking her head.
Isn’t he handsome? That’s what I’d come up with to deflect her questions? I hoped I didn’t look as embarrassed as I felt.
“You okay?” Kyle whispered in my ear when we were seated again.
I nodded and hoped no one else had heard my ridiculous comment.
“Tonight went well, I think,” Kyle said on the drive home.
“Your speech was great. You got people excited. Wyatt said so far there’s been more than $100,000 donated.”
“It’s nice to help out a good cause. Wyatt’s good at what she does. I told Dad he ought to have her plan some of his events.”
“It looked like a stressful job. I don’t think she got to sit down for even a minute all night.”
Kyle reached for my hand. “I hope you didn’t feel neglected. The couple I was talking to are pretty important in the party, and they were talking my ear off.”
“It was fine. I had a nice visit, too.”
“I didn’t recognize her.”
“Her name is Angela. She was talkative, so it was pretty easy.”
“You look so beautiful tonight. I was proud to have you there with me.” He kissed my fingers and then laced his through mine.
“I was proud to be there with you.”
“I know all this is a lot to deal with, but I think tonight proved you’re up to the challenge.”
“I hope so.” I let out a long breath and leaned my head back against the seat. “Want to come up for a little while?” I asked.
“Yeah. After tonight, we’ve earned a little time to chill.”
Kyle parked the car in the closest spot he could find, which was more than two blocks from my apartment. He’d offered to drop me off first, but I said I could walk. The air was warm, and we held hands. The door to Shanghai Kelly’s was open, and we laughed at a particularly bad karaoke version of “I Will Survive.”
The lamp was on when we reached the apartment, and Mia’s door was closed. I kicked off my shoes, and Kyle laid his jacket across the back of a chair and took off his tie. I got a couple of bottled waters from the fridge while Kyle flipped through the channels, looki
ng for something to watch. “I think we’ll avoid any news channels. You want to watch Antiques Roadshow?” he asked.
I sat down beside him and tucked my legs up under me. “Sure,” I said as he wrapped his arm around me.
“And by watch, I mean, do you want to listen to Antiques Roadshow?” He put down the remote and turned to face me. His mouth was warm and insistent when he kissed me, his arms pulling me closer.
At some point, Antiques Roadshow became Austin City Limits, but we didn’t care. Sometime during Austin City Limits, Kyle told me he loved me. When Austin City Limits turned into a documentary about black widows, Kyle laughed and said that was his cue to leave. I walked him to the door.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here.”
I turned off my alarm. It was late, and with a Saturday free of plans, I intended to sleep in as long as possible.
Mia knocked on the door and opened it a crack. “I’m okay. I’m just sleeping in,” I said, hoping she’d leave so I could get a couple more hours.
“Your cell phone has rung twice. I didn’t recognize the number. Do you want me to turn it off?”
“What time is it?”
“It’s not quite eight.”
“Are you up because of my phone?”
“No. We’re driving down to San Louis Obisbo for the arts and crafts show.”
“I’ll just turn the ringer off,” I said.
Mia stepped into the room to hand me my phone. It had barely exchanged hands when it signaled I had a voicemail. I’d had less than six hours of sleep. I could listen to the voicemail later.
“Have fun down there,” I said.
“I want a full report of the benefit when I get back.” Mia stepped out of the room.
“It was great.”
Mia giggled. “I’m sure it was.”
I heard Mia close the door to the apartment as she left, and I snuggled under my blanket. I hadn’t fallen back asleep when my phone vibrated on the nightstand. Without lifting my head, I picked up the phone and looked at the display. There was a text from Kyle. Maybe he wanted to tell me he loved me again. I smiled as I hit the message button.
KYLE: CHARLOTTE, YOU’RE NOT PICKING UP. PLEASE CALL ME ASAP. IT’S URGENT.
I scrolled through the incoming calls. Was the number I hadn’t recognized Kyle?”
ME: SHOULD I CALL YOUR CELL PHONE?
KYLE: OH GOOD. I’LL CALL YOU BACK. PLEASE PICK UP.
I sat up in bed and adjusted the pillows behind my back. What could be urgent? I hoped no one was sick or hurt.
“Hello,” I answered on the first ring.
“Hey, Charlotte. We’re in crisis mode, and we’ve got to talk to you right away. Before you talk to anyone else.”
“What’s wrong, Kyle?”
“It’s about last night. An editorial appeared in the paper this morning, and it’s blowing up. Can I come pick you up? We need to get your side of the story, and we probably need to make a statement this morning. I’m heading over to Dad and Mom’s and can swing by and get you.”
My head was spinning, and I couldn’t get a deep breath. My voice cracked when I spoke. “My side? My side of what?”
“I’ll tell you about it when I get there. Be ready in ten minutes. I’m already on my way. I’ve got to call Dad and Devon and let them know I reached you. See you soon.”
I untangled my feet from the blankets and sat on the edge of the bed. What did I need to do to be ready in ten minutes? I pulled on a pair of sweat pants, a hoodie, and my flip flops before I headed to the bathroom. The sleek, smooth waves from the night before had mutated into a tangled nest. Running a brush through my hair proved to be impossible, so I pulled it back into a messy bun. My face looked awful. This should teach me to wash my face before I go to bed. I scrubbed off the previous night’s makeup, wishing I had time to apply at least a coat of mascara, but the intercom was already buzzing as I dried my face. So much for makeup.
“I’m on my way down.”
When I reached the sidewalk, Kyle was already in the car, waiting at the curb.
I had no idea what was going on, but the urgency in Kyle’s voice had caused me concern. Now that he was waiting for me in the car—no greeting at the door, no kiss or casual conversation, no opening the car door for me—I was panicking.
Kyle put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb as soon as I’d shut my door. I quickly put on my seatbelt, then turned to Kyle.
“You said there’s something in the paper?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine what the problem could be. Last night had been a perfect night. Kyle’s speech had been inspired. The benefit had gone off without a hitch. I hadn’t fallen on my face or made a fool of myself. So what could possibly be happening? My heart was pounding so hard in my ears, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to hear Kyle’s response.
“You’re quoted in the paper. It doesn’t sound good.” Kyle was focused on the traffic, weaving in and out of cars as he headed toward his parents’ house.
“I’m quoted? I didn’t talk to many people last night.”
“You talked to enough.” His voice was unexpectedly brusque. He must have realized how he’d sounded because he glanced over at me and then patted my clenched hands. “I’m sorry. We’ll get this all worked out.” He put his attention back on the road and his hand back on the wheel. I took a deep breath and blinked back the tears that suddenly blurred everything in front of me.
It took us almost twenty minutes to get to the Aldsworths’ house. It was a meticulously maintained, cream-colored Victorian set between a modern, wood and glass home and a slightly less perfect Victorian in three shades of blue. Kyle parked in an empty spot across the street, expertly fitting the car into the parallel spot on his first try. I’d have complimented him, but I was too nervous, and I could tell he didn’t really care about his parking skills at the moment.
I didn’t wait for him to get my door. I met him at the back of the car. He grabbed my hand with one of his and pushed a button on his key ring with the other. His car horn gave a short honk, and we darted across the road.
Roberta met us at the door, and her appearance confirmed this was serious. Her hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail at the nape of her neck. Her makeup-free face was lined with worry, and she looked older. She wore a pale green workout suit, and her feet were bare. “I’m so glad you reached her. Your father and Devon are in the office.” She turned to lead the way, then apparently remembered I was there. She slowed and linked her arm through mine. “Good morning, Charlotte.”
With Kyle holding my right hand and Roberta’s arm through mine, I should have felt ready to face anything, but all I wanted to do was turn and run. Something was wrong, and somehow I was involved, even though I had no idea how.
The office was huge. A large window at the back end made everything and everyone inside the room look like dark silhouettes. At first, I thought Donald was sitting at his desk, but as we stepped closer, I realized he was standing by a fireplace, his arm resting on the mantle. I didn’t recognize the man at the desk.
Roberta motioned for us to sit on a leather sofa that faced the fireplace, and the man at the desk came to join us. He dropped a newspaper onto the coffee table in front of us. “We’ve got to go through this line by line and figure out what is fact, what is fiction, and what is just exaggerated. Kyle leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and looked at the newspaper. I was curious, but afraid to look.
“Devon,” Roberta said. “I realize this is serious, but can we please have some manners? Charlotte, this is Devon Kemp, Donald’s campaign strategist.”
“And clean up man.” Devon’s voice held no humor.
“Devon, this is Charlotte. Let’s bring Kyle and Charlotte up to speed without making them feel like they’re the enemy here.”
“Sorry, Roberta. Nice to meet you, Charlotte.” Devon shook my sweaty hand, and then when I clasped my hands together again on my lap, Kyle slid his hands between mine and pulled
my hand onto his lap.
Finally, my curiosity got the best of me, and I leaned forward to get a better look at the paper. The headline read “Is This the Change We Want?” A photograph of Kyle and me leaving The Julia Morgan Ballroom accompanied the article.
“Have either of you read the article?” Donald asked.
I shook my head.
“I pulled it up online and read it before I came,” Kyle said.
“Then you can see we probably need to make a statement.”
“Kyle, why don’t you read it aloud? Charlotte needs to know what it says.”
Kyle let go of my hand and picked up the paper. I wiped my hands on my sweat pants.
“‘Is This the Change We Want’ by Angela Prescott.” It took me a moment to place where I knew that name. Then I recalled her dark hair and piercing eyes, and I remembered talking to her throughout dinner. My stomach clenched, and I was grateful I hadn’t eaten breakfast. Kyle continued reading.
Last night was The Mercy House fundraiser at The Julia Morgan Ballroom. It was a beautifully pretentious evening of wealthy people eating expensive food and hobnobbing with other wealthy people. In their defense, they raised over a hundred thousand dollars for a worthwhile cause. But how many more children could Mercy House have cared for if the tens of thousands of dollars that were spent on food, tuxedoes, the venue, and the Oscar-worthy dresses worn by nearly every woman in attendance, had been donated to the cause?
But I digress. If the rich and famous want to see and be seen in order to be generous, we can indulge them that. The subject I’d like to talk about is the future of the senate seat currently held by Donald Aldsworth. For months now, there have been whispered rumors in political circles that Senator Aldsworth will be retiring after his current term ends. Other rumors, not so whispered, have hinted he would throw his considerable political clout behind his son, Kyle, a third-generation Aldsworth, who appears to have inherited his father’s political aspirations. This would make sense. Like the Kennedys and the Bushes, politics run through their veins—Donald’s father, James Aldsworth, was a Congressman in the 1960s.