A Primary Decision

by Dr. Kevin Leman

  She had such good friends, she realized. And a supportive family—even if sometimes they were a bit too involved. She smiled at the impressive display of flowers that had been waiting for her from Will and Laura. Of course she knew Laura had ordered them, but the note that they believed in her meant a great deal.

  It seemed like an eternity had passed since the day she stood in John Barnhill’s office and he’d told her that the president had nominated her for AG. But it had only been a couple of months.

  Now it would likely be several weeks until the Senate Judiciary Committee would vote on her—at their next meeting. Then the vote would need to go to the Senate floor. That could take a few weeks, even a month. Little in government circles happened swiftly.

  In the meanwhile, though, Sarah wasn’t going to tread water. After a quick shower, she’d devour breakfast and then pack up. If she hustled, she could be on an early afternoon flight back to New York City. Maybe even catch up on a bit of work at the DOJ. Sleep in her own bed tonight.

  She looked forward to all of it.

  EN ROUTE FROM MOZAMBIQUE TO JOHN F. KENNEDY INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

  Sean was catching up on his Twitter and Instagram on the flight back to New York. Though it had been a rugged several days of meetings, sleep eluded him, and he desperately needed some. Now that he was in his thirties, he found he couldn’t run as hard and fast as he had in his twenties. But he was more comfortable with who he was. That was a nice trade-off.

  His life seemed to happen in chunks with his Worthington Shares work—rapid-fire long days and short nights for five to seven days, then a day or two to put up his feet on his own coffee table in New York City before he left again.

  His days weren’t like Will’s well-ordered ones. Will’s schedule was so predictable that Sean could clock exactly where his brother would be when. First, his early run through Central Park. Next, his shower. Then his usual breakfast meeting with Drew to recap and problem solve any events from the day before and strategize upcoming decisions. Weekday mornings he spent at the Worthington Shares office. He took a short lunch, usually by himself and at his desk, to regroup. That was when his brother and sister knew they could reach him most easily. In the afternoons he focused on American Frontier. Evenings and weekends were his family time, with the rare business dinner.

  And rare was the key word. Sean grinned. Laura and Elizabeth were a lot alike that way. When it was their time, it was their time, and nobody else was allowed to mess with it.

  Some days it might be nice to have a more predictable life, Sean thought. Then again, it would probably drive him crazy to have his hours boxed up like that. Will’s personality was perfectly suited for the boardroom. Sean? His was meant for the seas, open skies, and flying freely from place to place. Discovering new NGOs in other countries still excited him. Meeting new people energized him. In the past, his travels had also meant an escape from the family he loved but who could be burdensome in their expectations.

  Recently, however, he’d made his peace with three of the most important people in his life. Bill Worthington, the father he’d grown up with. His mother, who had thought withholding the truth about his parentage would protect him. And his brother, who had thought the same thing once he knew. Even more, Will had also withheld the truth about the Polar Bear Bomber photos. Jon was the one who had discovered them and revealed them to Sarah. Sean still remembered his shock when she’d phoned him and bluntly asked him about them. He hadn’t had a clue they existed.

  Only three things still hung over Sean.

  One was the unfinished business with his birth father. Did Sean really want to meet him in person, get his story, or not? Should he let sleeping dogs lie? Those questions were too big, too emotionally laden to deal with in his jet-lagged state.

  The second was the Polar Bear Bomber photos. He chafed when he recalled them. How could he have been so gullible, chatting away with a guy at a bar and allowing himself to be set up that way? He told himself he couldn’t have known. Still, being that vulnerable to any force that wanted to take him down frustrated him. Reality was, those photos could show up again at any time. Elizabeth, Will, Drew, Sarah, and Jon all knew about them, and they were prepared.

  But what havoc would those pictures wreak on his father and mother right now if they found out? Bill and Ava were still working to put their marriage back together without the secret between them. They were just beginning to rediscover what had originally drawn them together in their university days—a sweet time before Bill’s job had swept him away into a whirlwind at Worthington Shares and Ava into a whirlpool of loneliness as she was left behind.

  Drew and the three siblings had agreed the photos weren’t something Ava should know about at this juncture. However, Drew warned, it would be wise to think about telling Bill sooner rather than later. He would need to deal with the potential ramifications of the news going public before he could deal with his wife’s shock and grief.

  Sean, as a middleborn, was good at keeping secrets. He’d always been secretive—slipping away from family dinners as swiftly as possible, not telling his family what he was up to outside of what he had to. But now, when he was on both the receiving and the giving ends, he realized even more how much power secrets held.

  The day he’d flown out to see Elizabeth in Seattle and they had toured the Space Needle, he’d promised he’d always be transparent with her. He’d never withhold any secrets from her.

  Since that day, he hadn’t. She also knew about his birth father—something even their close friend Jon didn’t know. Perhaps, in retrospect, it was good Sean hadn’t told him. Especially if his suspicion that Jon was interested in Sarah was correct.

  The time might come where Sean felt he could—and should—share that secret with his friend. Maybe even before he could tell Sarah. Perhaps Jon’s calm, balanced perspective would be what Sarah needed to adjust more easily to the truth.

  It wasn’t that Sean didn’t trust Jon. It was more that Sean still grappled with the new reality himself. Would it be easier or harder to accept if he could have a conversation with Thomas Rich? That, Sean didn’t know. And it was impossible to predict.

  The third thing that bothered Sean was the family decision to keep Sarah in the dark. Perhaps it wasn’t as much a decision as the fear that things might change when she knew Sean was her half brother.

  Bill and Ava seemed fragile right now, so Sean would let them regroup before he pushed more discussion. It had only been a short while since he and Bill had started talking about matters of importance without his father descending into a “well, you should have” diatribe—all for Sean’s well-being, of course. Sean didn’t want to do anything to ruin the openness of the relationship, or to cause more pain for his mother, who had suffered greatly for her one night of moral failure.

  Sean frowned. He still didn’t like keeping the truth from Sarah. He’d discussed his concern with Drew and Will. The three agreed the time was coming when they might have to trump Bill and Ava’s wishes and tell her anyway.

  For now, it was a waiting game. A very dangerous waiting game, especially with the poking and prodding happening in the vetting process.

  Who else knew about Thomas and Ava’s indiscretion all those years ago? Victoria, his wife? His son, Spencer, the current president of the United States? A former Secret Service operative who had been at Camp David and who might come forward with the information for the right price?

  Some days Sean felt like the entire Worthington family was poised on the edge of a deep chasm, and the smallest shove could push them over it.

  That was a frightening thought indeed.

  6

  NEW YORK CITY

  Sarah dropped her Fendi handbag on the foyer table and kicked off her heels. It was good to be home at her penthouse in Greenwich Village and not surrounded by circling vultures. At least that’s what it had felt like during the JC vetting session. Most were simply doing their jobs. Others, though, had seemed more targeted, even
vindictive, in their statements and questions.

  Within five minutes, she’d shed her Valentino suit and slipped into the comfort of her favorite sweats and an old T-shirt of Sean’s.

  She had just flipped on the Nick at Nite channel and settled on a rerun of I Love Lucy when her cell rang. Her first instinct was to ignore it. Then she checked the caller ID and answered.

  “Jon.”

  “Hey, welcome home, Ms. Soon-to-Be Attorney General.”

  She laughed. “I’m not yet.”

  “No, but you will be.”

  Once again, his belief in her was a balm to her tired spirit.

  “I have someplace I want to take you Saturday morning. Some special people I want you to meet. Please say you’ll come.”

  She sighed. “Jon, I’m really not in the mood for anything social. I desperately need some downtime. Especially on my first Saturday home in a long time.”

  “You’ll get exactly what you need. I promise. Casual attire—sweats or jeans, sneakers, T-shirt. You’ll be on your knees a lot.”

  Now she was curious. She loved surprises.

  The surprise factor won out over her tiredness. “Okay, you got me. I’ll be ready. Just tell me it won’t be before 8:00.”

  “Nope. Pick you up at 8:45.”

  “You’ve got a deal.”

  A SECURE LOCATION

  “It’s time to tip the balance of this game a little in our favor,” the man with the deep voice declared. “Start taking down one of the high and mighty players.”

  He gripped the phone as he listened. He’d been waiting for this day for a long time, but he needed the kind of clearance the man had to make the events happen. “Thought you’d say that. Already have been working on it. Lining things up.”

  “Is the package prepared?” the man asked.

  “All done. Just need your go-ahead.”

  “You got it. Arrange for the delivery,” the man ordered, then ended the call.

  He smiled. It was about time those responsible behind the scenes got their due. And this was only the beginning. He’d see to that.

  7

  NEW YORK CITY

  “We’re here . . . why?” Sarah asked.

  Jon had picked her up precisely at 8:45 a.m. on Saturday but hadn’t told her where they were going. When they pulled up to a special needs activity center, she looked at him, confused.

  He smiled. “Because this is where I volunteer at least once a week, whenever I’m in town.”

  “Really?” She blinked. “I had no idea. How long have you been doing that?”

  “About seven years. Come on, let’s go inside. The kids will love meeting you.”

  So there were a lot more layers to Jon Gillibrand than she’d guessed.

  “You’re certainly full of surprises,” she teased when he opened the car door for her.

  “I aim to please,” he joked back, giving an exaggerated gentleman’s bow.

  They both laughed as they walked into the center.

  An hour later, Sarah was entranced by the place. There was something so warm, so earthy and connected, about it. The kids had excitedly swarmed around her to greet her—the little ones hugging her knees, the bigger ones stretching to kiss her on the cheek. There was no “getting to know you” period here. Anyone was immediately accepted as part of the group.

  Sarah sat on the tiled floor, two children and a book in her lap. More children gathered closely around her as if they were ducklings and she was Mama Duck. As she read to them, a sense of peace flowed over her. Jon was right, as always. This was exactly what she needed.

  As soon as she finished the book, cries of “More, more!” abounded. She laughed. “Okay, you win. What book would you like me to read next?”

  The children scrambled toward the book bin. In that moment when her arms were empty, she looked up and spotted Jon across the room. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, engaged in a conversation with a blonde five-year-old. The little girl made a sign with her fingers, and Jon made the sign back. She threw her arms around him, then they continued the conversation in sign language.

  Jon knows sign language?

  In that instant, he looked toward Sarah and smiled. His eyes brimmed with happiness. She understood—she couldn’t imagine being happier than she was in this very moment. The room vibrated with joy, love, and acceptance.

  “Ms. Worthington,” a deep voice said from nearby, and she jumped.

  Turning, she saw a familiar face but grappled with placing it in this location. Oh yes, Michael Vara. Justin Eliot’s friend.

  “Michael! What are you doing here?” She got up to greet him. “It’s good to see you. And please, just call me Sarah.”

  Michael grinned. “Jon invited me to come when I was back in town. We’ve been talking ever since he interviewed me for the article about helping hurting kids through theater. Even got the director here to agree for me to do a little theater seminar today for the kids.”

  “You made it,” Jon said, cutting in. He shook Michael’s hand. “Just in time too. I’ll help you set up anything you need to.”

  And just like that, the two men were off, talking and laughing in buddy style.

  So Jon had another surprise up his sleeve too. But she didn’t have long to think about it before the children piled back around her, begging for another story.

  Sean was still groggy from jet lag when his cell rang.

  When he saw the caller ID, his haze cleared. His heart started to pound.

  “Hello?”

  “Sean, it’s Thomas.”

  Sean froze. He couldn’t speak.

  “I’ll be in town all next week.” Thomas hesitated. “I’d like to meet you, talk briefly. If possible.”

  Sean found his voice. “I’m not sure.” Then, more strongly, “I need to think about it.”

  “I understand,” Thomas said softly. “Call me even last minute. I’ll meet you wherever or whenever.”

  Silence descended between the two men.

  “Even if it’s not on this trip,” Thomas added. “Even if it’s not in New York.”

  “Okay.” Sean hung up. His hands were shaking. He had to end the call before the ache in his heart overwhelmed him.

  So many years lost. Years of lies. Of not understanding who he was and why he was that way.

  Pain, anger, wonder, and hope now meshed with hearing Thomas’s voice.

  The voice of the man who was his birth father but had had no place in his life.

  “I can’t thank you enough,” Michael told Sarah after the theater session had ended. “For giving me the time to let Mrs. Chesterton know about Justin, to bury my friend before the news broke.”

  Sarah nodded. “Is she all right?”

  Marie Chesterton, the former headmistress of St. Mark’s, the special school Justin and Michael had attended, had a heart for all the students. But she’d grown especially close to Michael and Justin. Now the dear lady knew of Justin’s sad end.

  Michael’s face clouded. “She’s grieving. Still can’t believe her boy would do such a thing.” His dark eyes blazed with intensity. “Neither can I. I stand by what I said the day you told me Justin was the Polar Bear Bomber. He would never have done what he did if he’d known what was in the backpack.”

  Sarah reached for Michael’s hand and squeezed it. “Well,” she said in a determined tone, “it’s not over yet.” She flashed a glance toward Jon. His nod was subtle, but he clearly understood her meaning.

  “Anything I can do to help,” Michael added. “And I mean anything.” He grinned. “Within the law, of course.”

  Sarah laughed. “Of course.”

  “Will we see you around this place again?” Jon asked. “The kids really loved you.”

  Michael beamed. “The next time I’m in town. I also stop in from time to time at the Nordoff-Robbins Center for Music Therapy. Theater and music are a natural combination.”

  “Ah, I’ve heard of that one. New York University. Greenwich Village,”
Jon said. “Right near your stomping grounds, Sarah.”

  She loved the way Jon naturally included her in any conversation. She watched as the two men bantered. Such salt-of-the-earth types, she thought. Both quality guys, using their faith and good deeds as an extension of themselves to make the world a better place for all.

  After Michael took his leave, Sarah and Jon helped with the cleanup at the center. By late that afternoon, both exited the center more grubby than they’d entered.

  Jon smiled at her. “You look happy. You know you needed this.”

  “All right. You win. I am happy.” She’d been hugged and loved all day. She thought again of the blonde girl.

  “Jon, who was that little girl you were talking to while I was reading?”

  “Jessie. She’s been deaf since birth. She was really shy when she first came to the center. But she’ll always talk to me.”

  Jon—such a dichotomy, she thought. Gentle with a little girl like that, but a die-hard news veteran who doesn’t stop pressing until he has the story. “What was she saying to you right before she hugged you?”

  Jon stopped and turned toward her. “She was signing.”

  “Signing what?”

  He extended one hand—pinkie, first finger, and thumb extended, and the two middle fingers dropped toward his palm. “I love you.”

  “Oh.” Sarah’s eyes teared. “How sweet.”

  They started walking again. He smiled. “Yeah, they’re great kids.”

  “I didn’t know you were fluent in sign language, or that you were keeping up with Michael. Two more things I didn’t know about you.”

  Jon shrugged in his understated way. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.” He grinned. “But when you get to know me even more, I’m 99 percent positive you’ll like them.”

  “Things like what?” she teased.