by Jayne Lind
”Beth shook her head, “No, you couldn’t have that badge if you hadn’t been vetted. Daily visitors wear a different, temporary one.” She sighed audibly, but there was no sign of tears.
“How are you feeling right now?” Taylor asked.
“All right,” Beth said, shrugging her shoulders. “I was very frightened when Lillian told me, but I’m better now. The worst case scenario would be for him to order me not to write a book and tell me you have to leave. But if you had to, if you went to a hotel, let’s say, we still could have sessions, don’t you think? You could come here to the East Wing as a daily visitor.”
Taylor’s thoughts raced. Was she going to get out of the White House? An early out? Was she going to be a free person? Her emotions leapt—her altruism submerged under her sense of elation for a few moments. Then she remembered the original reason she was housed there, the press. “When I was brought here, the reason for my staying in the White House was explained as fear of the press. Isn’t that still a consideration?” She didn’t tell Beth about the journalist and the maid, she thought Beth had enough to worry about at this stage.
“Yes, I suppose it is, but we have to be realistic. Now that Sam knows about you it may be the lesser of two evils.”
Taylor leaned forward. “Beth, could you go away, today? Could you say your mother is ill and you have to go to Vermont immediately? I’m worried about your safety.”
Beth was silent for a moment before she responded. “I could. And maybe I will, but it would just be postponing the inevitable. He would eventually confront me about this so, no, I think I might as well stay here and get it over with. By the way, Taylor, Lillian told me about your mother’s progress. I hope it was all right for you to leave so soon.”
Taylor smiled, “Thank you, Beth. I’m sure she will be all right and I think I’m more needed here right now.” She paused for a moment, then asked, “Could you tell your husband who I really am, that you’re depressed and I’m here to help you?”
“I don’t think so. I think that story would make him really angry.” Beth smiled wryly. “Well, everything makes him angry, doesn’t it? I don’t know, Taylor. I don’t know what to do.”
Taylor didn’t know what to do either, but as it turned out, the decision was not in their hands.
The next morning, before Taylor finished her breakfast, Lillian phoned. “You are needed in 15 minutes,” she said, in a voice even more curt than usual.
“All right,” Taylor said “I’ll be ready.”
“I’ll come to escort you, you’re going to the residence,” Lillian said cryptically and hung up.
Going to the residence? Wasn’t that dangerous? She wondered if Beth was ill, in bed. Taylor couldn’t think of any other reason for risking her presence in the residence.
Lillian was grim faced when Taylor opened her door. She didn’t say a word, nor did Taylor, as they walked down the stairs to the residence and then further along the hall. Lillian knocked softly on what Taylor knew was the master bedroom door and hearing Beth’s voice, she entered.
Taylor went into the room as Lillian shut the door and left them alone. Beth had her back to her. She was standing at the window looking out at the snow. A very large, king sized bed dominated the spacious room. The bed was unmade. Beth turned around and Taylor gasped as she saw her face. There was a large bruise on her cheek, swollen and blue. She had no makeup on. She hadn’t tried to cover it up. “What happened?” Taylor asked, walking quickly over to her.
Beth shook her head and sat down in an armchair. “He… he…..” she broke down and began sobbing.
Taylor sat in a chair across from her. It was obvious that Sam had hit her. “Take your time,” she said gently. “Sam hit you….”
Beth raised up her face and with tears streaming down, nodded.
“What happened?” Taylor asked once more.
Haltingly, between bouts of sobbing, the story came out. “Last evening, Sam got up here around eight o’clock. I hadn’t seen him all day. I hadn’t seen him or heard from him about finding out you were here, so I was dreading what I knew would be a confrontation. He went straight for the scotch, poured himself a glass, a small glass, with no water. He downed that, poured himself another and then he.....” She once more began sobbing. Beth was leaning over, her head in her hands. Taylor reached over and put her hand on Beth’s shoulder. . “He....”
“Beth, don’t try to stop yourself from crying. Tell me what happened in bits—it’s okay. It’s important for you to let yourself cry.” Taylor was apprehensive about being there in the master bedroom. She didn’t know where the President was. For all Taylor knew, he could walk in at any moment, but she wanted Beth to have permission to cry, to take her time.
After a few minutes, her sobs subsided and she went on, “He asked who this woman was I’d been hiding on the third floor. I told him about the book we were writing and he began shouting, saying I had no right to have a book written without his permission, wanted to know what was in the book and how much of my time was taken up with the book. He gets pretty obscene when he’s mad and drinking on top of it and he was just hurling insults at me. Oh, Taylor, it was so awful...” At that she once more buried her face in her hands. “I’m so afraid, so afraid.”
“Then he hit you....” Taylor began.
She sat up and nodded. “I was trying to placate him, the way I always do when he seems out of control. I was sure the detail could hear him out in the hallway. He mixed himself another drink and was pacing up and down, flinging his arms up and down, shouting. I went up to him and rather than standing up for myself or telling him I could write a book if I wanted to, I said, ‘please calm down, Sam. Sit down here and calm down. Let’s talk about this.’”
Beth appeared to be calming down as well as she looked at Taylor with a steady gaze. Her face looked to be very painful and Taylor was certain it would look even worse before it was better.
“Then he hit me. I don’t know where he was aiming, but I ducked at the last minute and his fist landed hard on my cheek.” She touched the bruise lightly with her right fingertips. “I was horrified and terrified at the same time. He was in a rage, like he’d gone crazy. There was a look on his face that was like...like someone who is evil. And I think I let out a scream, I don’t know, I don’t remember what I said right before he suddenly hit me. I fell onto the sofa behind me. He walked out of the room. I don’t know where he went. I went into the bathroom and saw the beginning of a bruise. I didn’t know what to do. I was too frightened to call Frank or you and I also didn’t want the detail to know about it.” She looked up at Taylor with a look of pure suffering.
“And with all the shouting, and you say you think you screamed, still no one came in to see what was wrong?” Taylor asked, horrified. Beth could have been killed.
She shook her head. “Our doors can be locked from the inside. I don’t know if anyone tried to come in or not.”
“So what happened after that?”
Beth sighed, “Sam left, walked out. I don’t know where he went. I took some ibuprophen, both for the headache I knew was coming and to help any swelling that might occur. I went to bed and of course, I don’t think I slept at all. Sam never came back. He still hasn’t. I don’t know where he is. I haven’t left the residence. I phoned Lillian very early this morning at home and told her I was ill and to inform the cleaning staff to stay out.”
“So you still haven’t phoned Frank?” Taylor asked, dreading the fact that she was probably going to have to do it.
“No, I was hoping you would. I knew I couldn’t talk without crying.”
“What do you want me to say to him?”
Beth blew her nose and wiped her eyes. She had stopped crying, but if anything, she looked even worse than before. “Tell him everything I told you, but I guess that wouldn’t be safe, would it, on the phone. I guess you need to see if he can com
e up here.”
What a test this was for Taylor in terms of keeping her professional mode separate from the personal. Maybe she was going to get as good at this as Frank seemed to be, she told herself. She dialed his extension. It rang several times before he answered.
“Yes?” he said in an annoyed, staccato voice.
“Frank, this is Taylor. I’m phoning from the residence. You need to come right away to the master bedroom.”
“I’ll be right up.”
Taylor was most concerned for Beth’s safety. She now knew all too well that a protective service couldn’t protect you once you are inside private quarters. That was the fatal flaw in all this ring of people who stood outside rooms where the first family was. Unless there was a scream or loud sounds of a scuffle, they would never know what was happening inside. Yet there may have been a scream and there certainly was shouting, yet no one came in to protect the First Lady from her husband.
“Beth,” she said, “you need to go away somewhere. We need to make sure you’re safe, no matter what.”
She looked at Taylor wide-eyed. “I guess if it’s necessary, I could go to my mother in Vermont. That would seem plausible.”
“And your detail would go with you?” she asked.
“Yes. And it wouldn’t look strange to the press, I would just be visiting her for longer than I usually do.” She paused a moment, looking down at her hands as she twisted a handkerchief in more and more knots. “But so many engagements would have to be canceled, and that would be letting so many people down, you know? My schedule is arranged months in advance and the groups I’m supposed to be meeting with would have made plans months in advance as well….no, I just can’t do it.” She shook her head.
A short knock on the door interrupted her. Taylor opened the door for Frank. She didn’t look at him as he entered and she shut the door softly. Neither she nor Beth needed to say anything. It was obvious what had happened.
“Mrs. Carlson! Let me look at that bruise…” He touched the area lightly, but she still winced. “We need to get you something to apply externally and a pain killer. It must be very sore.”
Beth simply nodded.
Taylor told him the story to save Beth having to go over it again, but she kept her eyes on Beth as she talked, managing never once to look at him directly. “We were just talking about her safety,” Taylor said. “She says she can’t go away, to her mother’s house, for instance, because of her engagements. She doesn’t want to let people down.”
Frank began pacing up and down the room. “Well, the first consideration is your safety,” he said. “And the second is the safety of the nation. It looks like my little talk with the President backfired, made him more angry and he drank more.”
“I think finding out about me is what tipped him over…” Taylor began.
He ignored her and addressed Beth. “You say you don’t know where he is? You haven’t seen him since?”
Beth nodded, “That’s right.”
“Then I’m going to have to contact the secret service. He must have gone somewhere to sleep it off and his detail must have followed him if he left the residence. I’ll contact you the minute I know something. And I’ll be back with something to help that bruise. I’ll be back with my medical bag as soon as I’ve found out where the President is.” With that he left.
Beth looked at Taylor with that hopeless look she’d often seen when she first began working with her.
Taylor sat back down opposite her. “I’m very worried about you, you’re not safe here,” she said.
Beth nodded slowly, “I know and I think I’ve reached a turning point, Taylor.” Tears welled up once again in her eyes and she reached for a tissue.
“What do you mean?”
Beth gazed out the window behind Taylor. The winter sun was streaming in, belying the chill of events on this side of the window. “I don’t care now…..I don’t care now what the public thinks of him. I’ve covered up and lied and pretended for all these years and I’m not going to do it anymore.” Although there was the glisten of moisture in her eyes, she wasn’t crying.
Yes, she looked hopeless, but with these words a new resolve showed on her face as well. Her voice was level. It seemed that she had indeed turned a corner. “So what does that mean?” Taylor asked. “What are you going to do?”
Beth sighed deeply and shrugged her shoulders. “I guess I’ve just had it. I’ve finally come to the place where I don’t care about appearances anymore. He’s gone one step too far and I’ll never let him come near me again, even in public.”
Taylor let out a breath of relief. “Because you’re frightened of him?” she asked.
“Yes. But it’s more than that. I’ve been frightened of his anger for a long time and I lost respect for him a long time ago. I feel as if I lost me a long time ago as well, that my life for the past twenty-eight years has been all about him, his image, his career. I managed to raise the children well, in spite of the demands on my time for his career, but somewhere along the line, I lost myself. Do you understand?”
“Of course I do. It’s not a new story. It’s happened to many women who subjugated themselves to their husband’s career, but you have the strength to survive deep down inside yourself.”
“Yes. I will not be a battered wife. I will not!” She stood up and walked over to the window. “Taylor, the day I am able to leave this place will be like being let out of prison.”
Taylor certainly could identify with that. The day Beth left she would also be let out. She leaned forward toward her and again asked, “So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll have Lillian cancel my immediate engagements. I’ve changed my mind in the last five minutes. It’s obvious I can’t be seen in public like this. So I’ll be even more trapped here in my room. Maybe I’d better go to my mother’s place. I don’t want to sleep in the same room as Sam.”
They were both silent, Taylor was thinking ahead about her possible release as well from this suffocating place.
When Beth spoke again, Taylor was surprised by what she said. “Taylor, remember when I told you there was something from the past I wasn’t yet ready to reveal?”
“Yes, of course.” Taylor hoped she wasn’t going to back out once more.
“Well, there’s no use holding it back now.”
“What is it, Beth, what happened in the past…”
She interrupted Taylor in mid-sentence. “This isn’t the first time Sam hit me. It happened once before, a long time ago, when we were first married.” Beth eyes were closed and there was a pained expression on her face. In a very soft voice, she continued, “We had been to a party and it was the first time I’d seen Sam drink too much. I insisted on driving home, which made him very angry, but I knew he wasn’t capable of driving, so I insisted. When we got home, we lived in a small apartment up one floor, it took a lot of help from me for him to get up the stairs.” She paused for a few moments.
Taylor felt her breath suspended, no wonder Beth hadn’t wanted to tell her this in the beginning. It had to happen again for her to have the courage to reveal this secret she’d held for so many years. Beth hadn’t told her the truth when she said there had been no physical violence.
Beth took in a deep breath and then continued. “He began ranting, raving, saying I wanted to be the boss in this marriage and that I needed to get one thing straight, that he was the boss. I’ll never forget his words, ‘I’m the man, do you hear? I’m the man.’ He kept repeating that over and over. I was trying to get him to calm down, to stop yelling so loudly. I knew the neighbors could hear him and it was late, well after midnight. I had never seen him like this, he seemed totally out of control, and you know, we hadn’t been married that long and I was very much in love with him, so I went over to him and tried to put my arms around him, to calm him down.”
Taylor nodde
d, not wanting to interrupt her.
“And he swung out at me, then grabbed me by the arms and threw me onto the floor. So I don’t know if he actually hit me, but I hit the floor hard and he just stood over me, yelling at me, telling me that I needed to know my place.”
Taylor could picture the scene, a new bride, disillusioned for the first time, shocked and hurt. “What did you do then?” she asked.
Beth closed her eyes again, remembering, recreating the scene in her mind. “I remember I curled up in a ball on the floor, I was terrified, I didn’t know what he was going to do next. I wasn’t hurt, the floor was carpeted. I was just so hurt inside, so shocked. He seemed like an entirely different person. I was terrified of the violence. He staggered into the bedroom and passed out on the bed. I slept on the couch and in the morning, he told me he was sorry, that he was drunk, and that he didn’t know what he was doing. He also said he didn’t remember much of what happened.”
“Did you tell him what happened?”
“Yes. I told him all about it in great detail, even though I didn’t believe him when he said he didn’t remember.”
“So you forgave him,” Taylor said quietly.
“Yes, we hadn’t been married that long and I was madly in love with him and I thought it was a onetime thing. I didn’t want to tell anyone, even my mother. But I didn’t forgive him at once, I told him that if he ever, ever did anything like that again, I would leave him—no ifs, ands, or buts. And I guess he believed me, because it’s never happened since. But I think the reason it hasn’t is that he’s been so aware of his image. I think it must have scared him a bit as well.”
“So you’re now going to keep your promised threat. You are going to leave him.”
“Yes. I’ve supported him through many a crisis, but not this one. I’m through.”
Chapter Twenty
Taylor emailed Josh immediately when she returned to her room.