“Are they okay?”
“No, they’re not okay, Crader. Of course they’re not okay! But they’re with me.”
“I’ve got to see her, Dutch.”
“No.”
“I’m going to go mad if I can’t see her!”
“Not tonight, Crader. You aren’t seeing her tonight.”
Crader took umbrage. “You can’t stop me from seeing my wife!” he shouted. “She’s my wife!”
Dutch just stood there, looking at him. Crader then moved away, raking his fingers through his hair, moving like a wounded animal caged in a wide open space. Then he looked at Dutch.
“What am I going to do?” he asked his friend, pain in his voice. “I can’t lose LaLa!”
Dutch wanted to tell him he should have thought about that before he went to bed with Elvelyn, but he didn’t go there. Crader already knew the stakes. “Go home, Cray,” he said instead. “This is going to take time.”
“You should have seen her face when I told her.” Crader himself was staring into space, lost in his own disbelief. “At first it was as if she thought I was pulling her leg. It was as if she couldn’t accept it, she just couldn’t. As if she was . . . stunned witless. Then, when it dawned on her that I was actually telling her what an asshole she had married, she went into a kind of lost horizon. Like she couldn’t figure out how I could ever do something like that to her. It was as if . . .” Crader looked at Dutch, his eyes troubled and distressed. “She believed in me, Dutch. And I blew it.”
Dutch’s heart dropped for his friend.
“What am I going to do?” Crader asked again. “I can’t lose LaLa.”
Dutch realized they would get no-where with this. It was a terrible situation and there was no other way around that fact. “Go home, Cray. Go back to Blair House. Work from there. There’s nothing you can do here tonight.”
“But will you at least talk to her? Will you tell her I didn’t mean . . . That I . . .” Crader didn’t know what to say.
Dutch exhaled. “Go home, Cray. You’ve got to give Loretta time to think, there’s no two ways about this. You’ve got to give her time to decide what she wants to do.”
“What if she doesn’t come back to me?” He looked at Dutch with pure fright in his big blue eyes.
Dutch hated that Crader had put himself in this position, but that was the problem: he put himself in this position. “That’s certainly a possibility,” Dutch replied. “When you made the decision to sleep with Elvelyn you put that possibility on the table.” Dutch frowned, staring at his friend. “You had to know that.”
And of course Crader now knew it. Sadly, he knew. And although he didn’t want to do it, he shook Dutch’s hand, and left.
By the time Dutch made it back upstairs, LaLa was in the Nursery with her baby and Gina was standing at the lunette window in the back of the sitting room. When she turned and looked at Dutch, she faltered. He could see it as soon as she looked his way.
He opened his arms.
She ran into those arms and began to sob.
She cried for her closest, dearest friend.
CHAPTER TEN
The next day was a busy one as Dutch had three national security meetings in a row. By early afternoon he was seated in the Oval Office, a pile of files on his desk for his final approval, hoping for a break from the action. But Allison Shearer, his chief of staff, was standing in front of his desk requesting a presidential statement.
Dutch wasn’t interested. “No statement,” he said.
“But, sir,” Allison pleaded, “the press is having a field day with this. The Vice President’s office hasn’t said anything constructive, except that they will not discuss the vice president’s private life with the press. That’s all their saying. What kind of statement is that?”
“A brilliant one in my view,” Dutch said.
“But it puts the pressure back on you, sir. If the vice president doesn’t come out and say I’m the one who had sex with that woman; I’m the one who may be the father of her child, then you’re still the prime suspect. Shouldn’t you at least release a statement saying that the child is not yours and you haven’t cheated on the First Lady with this Elvelyn Rosenthal, or anybody else?”
“I’m not releasing any statements on that matter, Ally.”
“Then they’ll believe you may very well have been involved with Elvelyn Rosenthal.”
“I don’t care what they believe,” Dutch said bluntly, glancing at Allison to make sure she understood: he was done with that conversation. Allison understood it.
“Yes, sir,” she said. “Is there anything else you need me to do?”
“Matter of fact, do me a favor and hand deliver those files, those right there, to the DCI.”
Allison didn’t like it, mainly because she knew the press better than anyone. If you left this kind of scandal unanswered it always came back to bite you. But it wasn’t as if she could argue with the president. She grabbed the stack of files. “I’ll get these to him right away, sir,” she said, and left his office.
When the door closed, and Dutch was once again alone in the Oval, he stood up and walked over to the elongated window. He stretched his back and looked across the White House grounds. The Secretary of State was sponsoring a press availability with the British Foreign Secretary in the Rose Garden, and everybody, including the Foreign Secretary, looked bored.
But Dutch had Crader on his mind. Why would he put Loretta through this kind of agony, was what he couldn’t work out. It broke his heart last night when she sat in the Residence blaming herself, as if Crader’s shit was all her doing.
When nothing could be further from the truth.
Dutch used to be unfaithful to girlfriends in the past, too, but he always made it clear up front that they were not in a monogamous relationship. And, more importantly, he didn’t give a damn about those women and they didn’t give a damn about him. They were just as Elvelyn in his past: a nice, warm body to fuck. Period. But the idea of him having that kind of attitude about Gina was unfathomable to him. He’d rather slit his own throat than have his wife and son fleeing his home because of pain he caused them the way Crader caused Loretta.
And then he started thinking about Gina. Although what he did with Elvelyn was twelve years ago, he had yet to tell her the full story of that shameful Vegas weekend. Mainly because he was embarrassed about it now. Gina was his number one fan. He wondered if what he did with Crader would be too much even for her. But he knew he still had to tell her. Max was still the wild card out there. He could still stir up trouble with some video or pictures of that Vegas weekend. No way could he allow his wife to find out about his sordid past through some breaking news report, or some headline in a tabloid magazine.
He left his office, headed down the West Wing of the White House, made his way into the East Wing, and then into the office of the First Lady.
“Is she in, Gwen?” he asked Gina’s assistant as he headed for the office entrance.
“Yes, sir, she’s in,” the assistant replied.
Dutch leaned against the doorjamb and then opened the door. Gina, LaLa and Christian were seated around the conference table. She and Christian were working on the First Lady’s speech at that upcoming awards ceremony at the Kennedy Center, and LaLa, from what he could make out, was keeping them company.
“Hello all,” he said to them.
Gina looked up, a pair of prescription eyes glasses on her face. “Hi.”
Dutch’s heart squeezed with love when she looked up at him. “Got a few minutes for the old man?”
Gina smiled. Began standing up. “I think I can manage that.”
Dutch glanced down, at her nice lavender pantsuit and how snugly it fit her, and then he looked at LaLa. She was smiling, but he could see the drain all over her.
“How are you, my darling?”
Her arms were folded. Her body was in what Dutch considered a closed position. Afraid, undoubtedly, to open up to anyone ever again. “I’m
making it work,” she said.
“That’s the spirit. Keep that attitude and you’ll be fine.”
“Yes, sir,” LaLa said as Gina arrived at Dutch’s side. They were within an inch of each other. Dutch leaned over and kissed her on the lips.
“What’s up?” she asked him.
“Walk with me?”
Gina smiled and then they left the office.
Christian closed the office door behind them, and headed back to the conference table.
“He must have something juicy to tell her,” he said as he sat back down.
“Why would you say that?” LaLa asked.
“I’ve been working for the First Lady long enough to know that the only time the president bothers her in the middle of the day like this is for one of two reasons. Either he wants to take her upstairs to bed, or he wants to talk to her about something he believes is too crucial to wait.”
LaLa smiled.
“I’m serious, La. Those are the only two reasons. Since he asked her to walk with him this time, I figure he must have something to tell her. But usually when he comes to get her, he takes her to bed.”
“Well, I’ll be,” LaLa said, shaking her head. “You learn something new about people every day.”
Christian laughed. “The president is so blessed,” he said. “If I had a woman like the First Lady, I’d be one happy man.”
LaLa looked at Christian. There was a time when he wanted to date her but she turned him down cold, mainly because of their ten-year age difference. She was no cougar, she announced. She, instead, got blinded by the light of Crader McKenzie. A man who even young Christian had warned was a bad risk as a boyfriend, not to mention as a husband. Now he’d cheated on her twice already that she knew of, and this idea that he may be the father of that baby was just too much.
But she couldn’t think about that now. She’d fall to pieces again if she thought about that now. “You’ve got to cut Jade some slack, Chris,” she said to her friend. “She’s young.”
“I know. But I’m young too.” Young and in need of sex like he never dreamed he’d be in need of it. “I just don’t understand her,” he went on. “I just don’t know where she’s coming from. Like the way you and I talk and laugh and play around, I can’t do that with Jade. I irritate her when I touch her.”
“Irritate her?”
“Yes! We haven’t had . . .” Christian began to redden.
But LaLa didn’t get it. “You haven’t what?”
Christian swallowed hard. LaLa really was his closest friend. Other than the president, she was the only other person he felt he could talk to. “We haven’t had sex in I don’t know how long, and it’s beginning to bother me.” Christian said this and looked at LaLa.
LaLa was floored. “You haven’t had sex? Why not? Is there something wrong?”
“No, nothing, La, I declare there’s nothing like that.” LaLa would have laughed at his defensiveness, but he looked too distressed. And given her own situation, she knew what that felt like.
“Have you spoken with Jade about this, Chris?”
“Like every night, yeah,” he said. “But it does no good. She throws the miscarriage in my face, as if it happened just yesterday. She even starts crying about it. I know it’s tough for her, losing the baby, but it’s tough for me, too. But I just feel like it’s kind of fake the way she only brings up that baby when I bring up our sex life.” He sighed. “I don’t know. I told the president about it.”
LaLa could only imagine the burdens Dutch bore. Every one of them were always running to him or Gina with their problems, when he probably had more than enough of his own. “What did he say?” she asked him.
“You know how he is. He listens mainly. But he did say he expects me to control my household. And he had a bunch of questions about Marcus.”
“How’s that working out for you? Having Gina’s brother and your mother-in-law there? I’ll bet that adds to the tension.”
“Not really. They’re both okay in my book. Sam is a little different, but I like her. Besides, her stay is only temporary. The president is helping her with some financial problems so she’ll be going back to South Carolina soon. She’ll be reopening her book store, I think. And Marcus is cool. We get along real well. Other than the president, he’s the only one Jade will listen to.”
“Well, I’m glad she listens to somebody,” LaLa said in a voice that sounded doubtful.
Christian looked at her. “What about you, La?” he asked. “How are you doing? I never would have dreamed Senator McKenzie, I mean Vice President McKenzie---”
“Call him Crader,” LaLa insisted. “You’ve earned the right.”
Christian smiled. Forget the First Lady. If he had a woman like Lala? Now that would be paradise to him. “What I’m saying is that I never thought he would cheat on you. He seems to love you so much.”
“I don’t know about all of that, but yeah, it was kind of shocking to me, too. Especially now that a baby may be involved.” She shook her head. “I don’t know, Chris, I just wish. . .”
“What?”
LaLa smiled, looked at her friend. “I just wish Crader was more like you.”
She’d never know how wonderful that made Christian feel. “Then he wouldn’t be Crader, now would he?” he said, to shield his delight, and they both smiled.
But he knew exactly what she meant. Because he wished Jade was more like LaLa, too. He, in fact, secretly wished he’d never met Jade, and had been blessed to marry LaLa instead.
After a quiet, hand in hand walk across the grounds, Dutch and Gina ended up in the Jacqueline Kennedy Garden. They walked along the perfectly manicured shrubbery until they were seated under the archway of the pergola, across from each other, at a small patio table. They were both formally dressed, he in his business suit and she in her pantsuit, creating a startling contrast to the relaxed greenery of the garden.
And Dutch told her all about that weekend in Vegas.
“I know it happened years before we were ever even dating, our first encounter notwithstanding, but I wanted you to know. Just in case there were photos out there, or videotape.”
Gina stared at her husband. He was usually a straight shooter, but this time she felt as if she was missing something. “Why would it get in the papers?” she asked him. “You and Crader had sex with this Elvelyn person, but it happened twelve years ago when neither one of you were married or even engaged to anybody. Crader hooked back up with her, yeah, but you didn’t. Right?” Gina asked this to be sure. Crader had stunned her with the way he so callously hurt LaLa. It had kind of rocked her faith for a hot second.
“Right,” Dutch assured her. “It was just that weekend for me.”
“Then why would it be news?”
“Because Max was there too. And he may have taken pictures, or videotaped it even.”
“But I’m still not following you. All it’ll show is you with some female during your womanizing days. The entire country knows that Dutch Harber used to be a player. Wham Bam Harber, remember? I still don’t see how any of this would be news. Videotape or no videotape.”
This was the part Dutch had dreaded. “But the tape may also show,” he said slowly, carefully, “me, Crader, and Elvelyn. Together.” He said this and looked at Gina. Gina was sharp. She’d get it.
And she did. Immediately. “ A ménage e trois?” she asked him.
Dutch could already see the disappointment in her eyes. “Yes,” he said.
“You and Crader screwed that girl together?”
Dutch exhaled. “Yes,” he said again.
Gina was disappointed. No doubt about it. She always thought of Dutch as the good guy, as sort of the honorable rake when he was a player. Which, she knew, was nonsense. There was nothing honorable about slinging it all over town. But that was always how she viewed him. She even viewed him that way when they had their one-night stand in Miami Beach, years before they hooked back up permanently.
“Disappointed?” D
utch decided to ask her.
“Yes, actually,” she replied honestly.
“Why?” he asked her, although he already had a pretty good idea. But he needed to hear it from her.
Gina folded her hand over her other hand, with both resting on the table. Dutch glanced down at her small hands, at that big diamond ring he had given to her, and then he looked back into her big, sincere eyes. “I thought you would have had more respect for women than to do something like that,” she said.
Bam, there it was, Dutch thought. That was the reason he hesitated in sharing this part of his past with Gina. It would knock him off of that pedestal she had, rightly or wrongly, placed him on.
“I understand your disappointment,” he admitted, “but it was consensual. She wanted it too or she wouldn’t have been there.”
“But maybe that was why her sister was accusing you of being the father of Elvelyn’s baby. Maybe Elvelyn had told her sister about that weekend in Vegas, and then told her about her affair with Crader. Maybe the sister got them mixed up, or maybe she conveniently mixed them up.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because you’ll get attention if the baby’s father is the vice president of the United States. Yes, you’re get some attention. But you’ll get far more attention if the father of that child is the president.”
“Ah,” Dutch said, understanding Gina’s thought process. “Right. Agreed.”
“So do you think this sister has Max’s tape?”
“We don’t even know if there is a tape.”
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“So what does Max have to do with this then? You think he’s working with the sister?”
“We don’t know that either.” Then Dutch pulled out the newspaper clipping, now encased in plastic, and handed it to Gina. She began to check it out. “Allison received this clipping in the mail,” Dutch told her.
“This is the write up about the plane crash that killed Elvelyn and her husband.”
“Right. Crader’s people have been in touch with Elvelyn’s sister, this Stephanie Mitchell, and she says she never sent that clipping to Allison. And it makes sense. That clipping was sent to Allison’s home, not to her office. It would seem there would be some personal knowledge for somebody to send a clipping like that to Allison’s home. The sister did admit, however, that she received a phone call from a reporter who said a former White House aide had told him about the president and her sister, and did she care to comment.”
DUTCH AND GINA: THE SINS OF THE FATHERS Page 12