Today she’d awakened earlier than usual.
She grinned. This time she’d be the one waking Sean on his birthday. He should be sleeping on the tail end of his flight from Indonesia.
Sarah grabbed her cell but found it was dead. She’d forgotten to charge it overnight.
No worries. She’d just use the landline in the kitchen.
She padded down the hall and entered the kitchen. Picking up the landline, she was startled to hear a deep male voice.
“Ava, it’s Thomas.”
Her mother’s voice replied, “Thomas?”
“I had to call. Had to talk to you.”
Sarah frowned. Thomas? Thomas who? But it was the catch in her mother’s voice that made her keep listening when normally she’d hang up.
“Why now? After all these years?”
There was a long sigh. “Because, Ava, I’ve tried. I thought I could set it aside, but I can’t.”
Set what aside? Sarah wondered. Her protective instincts kicked in, keeping her grip clenched on the phone. Was her mother in trouble?
“Thomas.” Her mother’s voice shook. “You can’t do this. I can’t do this—”
“I was coming to see you.” Another sigh. “Then I saw you, Sean, and Bill standing on the back porch. A family. And I couldn’t.”
“You saw us . . . when?” Her mother’s voice broke off. “Oh, I see.” There was a pause. “But then you would have been . . . You were in a boat, watching me? Watching us?” Anger tinged her mother’s tone. “Have you done this before? When? For how long?” Her words came out rapid-fire.
“Ava, I love you. I’ve stayed away all these years. But now I want you—no, I need you to know . . . I’ve never stopped loving you.”
“No,” Ava said firmly. “It’s too late. I made my choice. You made yours. This conversation is over.”
There was a definite click, and the call ended.
Stunned, Sarah stood in the kitchen and slowly hung up the phone. Thomas? Thomas who?
Then a shaft of reality hit. Thomas Rich? Her old friend? The former president of the United States? That Thomas?
Sarah’s heart raced as she tried to sort out what she’d heard. Was her mother having an affair? Did she have an affair? Was her parents’ marriage, which she had always thought was so solid, in trouble?
Hearing a sob from her mother’s green room, Sarah tiptoed toward it and peered in.
Ava was bent over, her shoulders shaking.
Paralyzed by her mother’s grief, Sarah couldn’t intervene. Slipping back to her room, she softly closed the door with trembling hands.
Once inside her bedroom, she started to pace. Recalling everything she’d heard, she attempted to puzzle it out. A picture of her strong, business-minded father flicked into her mind. Did he know? Or would the secret she now guessed destroy him? What about her brothers?
She sank onto the floor, her back to the door.
Time passed, and she remained in that position until she heard the cheerful arrival of Laura, Will, and their kids.
There was no opportunity to discuss what Sarah had heard with her mother, even if she’d had the courage to do so.
34
After dinner and the usual noisy birthday parade, Sean and his mother went for a quiet walk around the lake.
“I’m okay, Mom. Really I am,” he answered in response to her questions. “Knowing what I know now, well, so many things make sense. I make sense.”
He didn’t tell her that he’d already met Thomas in person. He wasn’t ready yet to share that meeting with anyone other than Elizabeth.
“And you and Elizabeth make sense,” his mom said, a sly peek in his direction.
He grinned. “Yes, we do.”
Her eyes sparkled. “There’s no time like the present. I even have something you might want to use, until you both can pick out exactly what you want.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him back toward the house, then drew him into the green room.
She opened her sea chest and took out a tiny package wrapped in white tissue. “This belonged to my grandmother. Part of her Irish heritage. Now it’s yours.”
He unwrapped the gift and held it delicately between his right thumb and forefinger. “I just might find a purpose for this.”
“I thought you might.” She smiled. “And the sooner, the better.”
He laughed. Now she was sounding like the mother he’d grown up with. In charge and a bit pushy where the welfare of her children was concerned.
But this time he didn’t mind. It was what he wanted too.
“Hey, sis, you okay?” a voice asked near Sarah’s ear.
She jumped, startled.
Will extended a cup of hot decaf in her direction. “You seem a bit distracted. Not in the usual birthday weekend mode.”
“Oh.” She waved away his concern but took the cup. “Just have a lot of things on my mind.”
That was certainly an understatement.
“Yeah, I bet you do.” He sat next to her. “I’m sure you’re still thinking about the impeachment.”
Yes, she was. The JC had already sent another resolution to the full House of Congress, stating that the impeachment was warranted, with articles explaining why. The House was in the middle of debating and voting on each Article of Impeachment. If any article was approved by a simple majority vote, the president could then be formally impeached. Then the next step, which could take months or more, would be a trial, with the president represented by his lawyers before the Senate to determine if he’d be removed from office.
Will swiveled toward her. “You wish you were still involved?”
“Yes. No. I guess. But it’s a moot point, since I can’t be.”
“But you’re still conflicted,” he pressed.
“Not about what I did,” she said quickly.
“Then about what you’re going to do next,” he clarified.
“Yes.”
“Well, sis”—his arm encircled her—“I have no doubt you’ll find that path.”
They were only a few reassuring words, but exactly what she needed.
Sean stared at the platinum and gold circle in his hand. It was so small but heavy with meaning. Would Elizabeth too be ready for it?
He had to try.
Sean booked a flight to San Diego for the next morning. The Shapiros’ research vessel would be docking there in the afternoon, and he was determined to be there.
But he had one thing to do first. He checked the time on his cell phone. If he hurried, he could get to the little store in Chautauqua before it closed.
35
Darcy surprised Sarah with a call late that evening. “Hey, I know you’re technically on vacation, but thought you’d want to know. We’ve now made direct connections between Sandstrom, Stapleton, and the president. All three had knowledge of the funds being foreign. Sandstrom is the only one who has acknowledged they came originally from ISIS. He claims Stapleton and the president also knew it.”
“But those two are denying those claims,” Sarah reasoned.
“Of course. But us asking the question has Stapleton and the president plenty nervous. Both have been steering a wide berth around each other since Jon’s story hit,” Darcy said. “Speaking of Jon, what’s going on with you two anyway?”
“We’re steering a wide berth around each other for now too,” Sarah said quickly.
“Mmm.” Darcy’s tone was sarcastic. “Seems to me that berth is a little one-sided. You sure you—”
“No more on that subject. Let’s turn to a different one.” Her friend’s inference stung because she was right on, and Sarah knew it. She hadn’t been entirely fair to Jon.
“Like what?”
“Like the fact I’m thinking of throwing my hat into the ring,” Sarah declared.
“You’re thinking of running the country? Seriously?” Darcy was uncharacteristically quiet for a minute. Then she said, “I should be surprised, but I’m not. Had a gut feeling this would come someday.
”
“Really? Why?”
“Because you understand justice and hate injustice. You’re uniquely equipped to restore faith in the political system to Americans. You handle tough situations and never back down . . .” Darcy was off and running with a list of Sarah’s best qualities.
“Wow,” Sarah teased once Darcy took a breath. “I had no idea you entertained all those thoughts about me.”
“You know I, of all people, don’t blow smoke. America needs new, fresh leadership. A person who has everyone’s best at heart. Those are pretty big shoes to fill. But I believe your feet might be just the right size.” Darcy laughed. “And it doesn’t hurt being a Worthington either.”
“No, it sure doesn’t hurt.” Sarah laughed too. “So you don’t think I’m crazy?” she asked.
“Crazy? You’re always a bit crazy. But you’re also right on target.”
As soon as she hung up with Darcy, Sarah mentally began preparations to throw her hat into the ring in the February primaries. She’d have to be on the fast track to jump in. Worthington money would help, but that could only give her a kick start. She’d need to raise funds just like every other candidate.
First things first, though. She had to tell her family about her plans. As her father had said long ago, “It’s about time a Worthington steps into the presidential race.” He just didn’t know yet that the first Worthington to make a run in six generations would be his daughter.
Perhaps it would be best to test the news out on Will first.
Will knew something was bothering his sister as soon as he returned from taking Sean to the Jamestown airport the following morning. So did Laura. She’d given him the head jab in Sarah’s direction right after breakfast. He knew what that meant: “Go find out what’s wrong with her, and do it now, buster.”
What was wrong with Sarah far exceeded any guesses he might have had. Simply stated, he was stunned.
“You’re going to what?” He stopped in his tracks at the edge of Lake Chautauqua.
“I’m going to run for president,” she announced.
He blinked. After the initial shock cleared, it was strange how his own earlier thought drifted back to him. She’d make a great president of the United States.
“As a Republican,” she added.
Will flinched. His family, like most New York money, was publicly Democrat in its leanings. So were their friends and contacts. Will understood personally, though. He had been torn himself when running for Senate. Though his values aligned more with the Republican Party, his thinking on most issues tended to be more in the Democrat camp. He wasn’t quite one but wasn’t quite the other either.
“Well,” he said drily, “that will certainly raise some eyebrows.”
A vision of a furious Kiki Estrada flitted into his mind. After backing and then being shafted by both Worthington brothers, she’d certainly have something vitriolic to say if a Worthington ran on the opposing ticket.
“Are you saying I’m wrong?” Sarah demanded with fire in her eyes.
“No. I get it. But you’ve got an uphill battle going against the conservative, antigovernment voice that’s in the minority but too loud to ignore. Like some of the people I have to deal with every day, all backed by the big guns behind Big Oil and Tobacco.”
“But that’s just it,” she argued. “It’s time for a balanced voice in the party. Someone who can unite both Democrat and Republican parties through common causes that can benefit all of America.”
“And you think you’re that person,” he shot back. It was a statement, not a question.
She opened her mouth, then shut it just as she was clearly about to lambaste him. “Yes, I think I’m the one for the job.”
“And you’re willing to stake your career on it? Our family’s reputation on it?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He started to pace. “You talked to Dad?”
She shrugged. “Not yet.”
“Ah, I see. You’re putting the fleece out in front of me first, because I’m most like Dad. But I’m not as likely to blow a gasket.”
“Something like that,” she admitted.
“So I’ll just run you through what Dad would say then. You sure you want to do this? Put yourself through the kind of public scrutiny that running the presidential race means? Far worse scrutiny than you had to go through in the attorney general process?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“And you know what this means for every single one of us? The entire Worthington family?” he fired at her.
“Yes, I do.” She gazed directly at him. “But Will, I’m not only going to run against Rich. I’m going to take his job.”
“I can’t change your mind?” Bill asked Sarah a few hours later.
Their conversation had gone exactly as she’d expected, including the grilling that far outranked Will’s in intensity.
Strangely, he hadn’t argued as much with her running for president as he had with her running as a Republican.
“That’s simply crazy.” He shook his head. “That’ll make it a lot harder to get backing from our family’s contacts. You know they’re all pro-Democrat. That’s where all the money is. And you’ve got to start by nailing the votes in your home state.”
“I will run as a Republican,” she insisted more than once.
Finally, her father had backed down. “All right. Do what you feel you have to.” Then he sighed. “Sarah, you know this family will back you.”
She knew that, but she wished he’d said, “I know you can do this and will do this. I believe in you.”
Will placed a call to Drew while Sarah was talking with their father.
“So your sister’s thrown the family one of her biggest curveballs yet,” Drew said. He chuckled.
“She always was good at that. From babyhood on,” Will agreed.
“Just don’t ever mistake whimsical in your sister for being soft.”
Will laughed. “No, I never could and never would.”
36
SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA
Sean was waiting on the dock in the late afternoon for the Shapiros’ research vessel to land. The warmth of the California sun was a welcome change from New York’s wintry scene.
Dr. Leo Shapiro, Elizabeth’s father, appeared first, both hands full of heavy equipment. He spotted Sean and gave him an approving nod.
A few minutes later Elizabeth emerged from below deck. Gusts of wind from off the coast tossed her long blonde hair around her face as she walked down the gangplank. Her cheeks were tinged with sunburn from long days on board ship. To Sean, she’d never looked more beautiful.
The instant she spotted him, she set down her duffle and the equipment she was carrying and ran to hug him. After retrieving her luggage and stowing it with her father’s in his rental vehicle, Sean grabbed her hand.
“It’s such a beautiful day. Let’s take a walk,” he suggested. “Maybe find a place where we can dangle our feet in the water. Since I can’t do that in New York right now.”
She grinned. “I know the perfect spot.”
They headed there hand in hand. By the time they’d settled by the water and removed their shoes, the sun had turned to a dark golden glow.
“I thought you might be hungry, so I brought a snack to hold us over until dinner.” He took a mini picnic out of his backpack—crackers, cheese, strawberries, bottled fruit waters, red-checked napkins.
“Impressive.” She nudged him. “You did this all yourself? Even cloth napkins?”
He grinned. His quick visit to a gourmet food store had been worth it. “Yeah. You bring out the romantic in me.”
She laughed. “I’m starving. Let’s eat.”
As they munched, they caught up on what couldn’t be said as easily via text or phone. By now, with their world travels, they were experts at it.
“One more thing,” he said when they’d polished off the snacks. “I brought us some dessert.” He whipped out a box of Cracker Jacks and pres
ented it to her.
Her warm brown eyes lit up. “Cracker Jacks? I haven’t seen these since I was a kid. My dad would get them for me sometimes when I’d have to go with him to a really boring meeting. I love these!”
“My mom used to take us to an old-fashioned candy store in Chautauqua when we were young. It’s still there. We always loved the little surprises inside. Bet they still have them.” He opened the top of the box. “Should we see what’s—”
“Oooh, I love surprises.” She grabbed the box from him and peeked inside. Extracting a couple kernels, she tossed them into her mouth. “But I hate waiting to see what’s inside.” She upended the box into the napkin on her lap. “There it is!” Grinning, she pounced on the yellow plastic capsule amid the caramel kernels.
“So, what’s the prize inside?” he asked.
Elizabeth unscrewed the capsule. “It’s—” She squinted at it. “It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen. This can’t be a toy—” She raised startled eyes to Sean.
He smiled. “It’s real. Actually, from my Irish grandmother.” He reached over and picked the claddagh ring out of her trembling fingers. “I thought it might do for a very special occasion.”
He moved in front of her and knelt in the sand, the sunset behind him. Holding the ring, he said, “Elizabeth Anne Shapiro, you make my heart smile. Will you do that every day for the rest of my life? Will you marry me?”
“It’s about time you ask, Sean Worthington,” she shot at him. Then tears of joy brimmed. “Of course I will,” she whispered.
He slid the beautiful 1.5-carat heart-shaped diamond on her finger. The platinum and gold ring had a Celtic engraved band encircled with emeralds. He smiled at her. “This is for now. We can go together to pick out anything you like, or have one specially designed.”
She gazed at him. “No need. I can’t imagine anything more perfect. And Sean? My heart has always felt at home with you too. Since the beginning.” She laughed. “Sheesh, that sounds like a Hallmark card, doesn’t it? But I mean every word. I love you, Sean.”
A Primary Decision Page 13