by Jayne Lind
Dear J: I don’t know how much about current events in this house you know or how quickly, but it is becoming worse and worse. Oh, darling, I wish you were here. I had to come face to face with the b. as you called him, and rightly so. He acted as if nothing whatsoever had happened. I was successful in never meeting his eyes, but the crisis is so huge at the moment that I have to set my own feelings aside and work for her. You may hear some startling news soon. I love you, T.
Taylor was marooned in her room for the rest of the day and saw nothing about the White House on television. She had no idea where the President was or what was happening. She didn’t hear from Lillian or from Beth. She dare not leave her room even to walk on the lawn. Desperately worried about Beth and feeling trapped as she’d never been before, she couldn’t find anything to distract herself. Reading didn’t work. The television was on constantly, but there was no startling news from the White House. She exercised along with a dingy blonde wearing lots of lycra somewhere on a beach with palm trees in the background. That did help some.
Finally, that evening, she phoned Lillian at home. “Do you have any news?” Taylor asked.
“If I did, I couldn’t tell you over the phone, but things are all right.”
“Is that all you can tell me?”
“Yes.”
Silence. Taylor waited for her to go on. Finally, she said, “All right, thank you.” And hung up. Well, Beth must be safe.
She slept fitfully and awoke to another sunny day. The TV weather girl told her the temperature was a frigid 36F, however. Not that she was going outside anyway. She showered, dressed, ate, and wrote endless emails to Josh, not hearing back from him at all.
Finally, around three o’clock, Lillian appeared at her door. She looked like she hadn’t had much sleep either and all the brusqueness and abruptness was gone. She accepted Taylor’s offer of a cup of tea and they both sat down in the armchairs.
“Dr. Leigh, I apologize for not meeting with you sooner. I’ve been very busy, as you can imagine.”
“Where is Mrs. Carlson?”
“She’s here, in the residence. And she would like to see you as soon as I’ve briefed you.” She took a sip of tea and as she put the cup and saucer down on the table, her hand was shaking. “Last night, the President was taken to the hospital. The Vice-President was sworn in as acting president. The press hasn’t been told yet.”
“What hospital?” Taylor asked, “A psychiatric hospital?”
“I can’t reveal that. If Mrs. Carlson wants to, it is up to her. Dr. Bolton arranged all of this and it was done with the utmost secrecy. We….we don’t know what is going to happen.”
“So when will the press be told? It would seem to me this would be very difficult to keep under wraps.”
“Yes, and there may have been a leak already. My consideration and yours as well is to the First Lady. As long as the President is away from the residence, she will remain here. After that, she will go to Vermont to stay with her mother.”
Taylor didn’t tell her what she knew about the press. She figured that was up to the secret service. Instead, she asked, “And if that happens, if the First Lady goes to Vermont, what do I do?”
“I don’t know. She would probably like for you to go with her, if you agree, that is. How we explain you is another matter. I’m afraid that other than a walk on the south lawn, but not down as far as the south fence, you will be even more restricted until this crisis is over.” She looked at Taylor with genuine sympathy on her face. “I know this is difficult. I know you must feel like a prisoner. And who knows, the press may find out everything, in which case, you will be famous,” she said wryly.
Or infamous, Taylor thought. She wanted to talk to Frank, but couldn’t, or wouldn’t, was more like it. She followed Lillian down the staircase to the residence.
When Beth opened the door, the bruise on her face looked even worse, the colors having kaleidoscoped over night. She had done a fairly good job of covering it up with makeup however, and other than the bruise, she looked much better than she had yesterday.
As soon as Lillian shut the door Beth came over to Taylor with extended arms and hugged her, holding her for a long moment. “Oh, Taylor, I’m so glad you’re here,” she said.
“Yes, I’m here, worried about you and so glad you are safe.”
“Yes, Frank was marvelous. He arranged everything and for the time being at least, Sam is away from here, which is a huge relief.”
“Is he getting treatment or just sedated or what?”
“Both, as far as I know. It’s obvious he can’t go to an ordinary rehab clinic. Frank says his alcoholism has to be dealt with first, before anything else. So I understand he is in Bethesda in a private ward kept just for presidents and members of Congress. So he’s not allowed any liquor and a psychiatrist is working with him.”
Taylor was hugely relieved. The President was receiving the kind of help he needed and he was away from Beth, which meant she was safe.
“I’m sure Lillian told you that the Vice-President has been sworn in and the press will be told today. I’m not sure what they will be told, but obviously Sam is incapacitated, so it all has to come out. Knowing the press, someone, somewhere will find out where he is and what’s wrong with him.”
“And you? How are you?”
She smiled. “You know, I feel like a new person. Just knowing he’s not coming to bed, knowing he’s not coming to the residence, is so freeing!” Her voice rose and she smiled a very broad smile. “And when he does return, if he does, I’ll be gone. I’ll go to Vermont. I feel safe, safer than I’ve felt in years and while I’m not going to go out of my way to sell my story or to drag Sam through the mud, I am no longer going to pretend. What a relief!
Taylor smiled as well, “I’m so happy to hear you sound so different. It is, indeed, as if you’ve been released, released from the role you never asked for and didn’t enjoy.”
Beth nodded, continuing talking in an excited tone. “Ben is arriving here in a couple of hours. I phoned him last night. And I was able to talk to Anna on the phone on what I hope was a secure line. I didn’t want them to find out on the news.”
“It’ll be good to have Ben with you,” Taylor said.
“Yes, he’s so like me.”
“So what are you going to tell him?”
“I’m going to tell him everything. I’m no longer going to shield him from the truth. Even though Sam is his father, he hasn’t acted like one. He’s been so driven that he’s ignored Ben most of the time. Telling Ben the truth will free him as well.”
“And what are you going to do about Sam?”
“I don’t know. I know I’m not going to be alone with him ever again. So if that means divorce or if it just means separation, it will have to be.”
“Because his career is over….”
“Yes, I would think so. Even if he stops drinking, Frank says the personality problems can’t be helped. Do you agree?”
Taylor nodded, “Yes, as far as we know at this stage of psychology, a personality disorder is so ingrained that it is very difficult to change. Your leaving him and his having to leave the White House in disgrace should be a powerful motivator for change, but it can’t be predicted. He could very well think it was all everyone else’s fault. And on the other hand, there probably have been several presidents who had personality disorders and yet remained in office.” She waited a moment and when Beth didn’t respond, said, “After all that’s happened, do you feel any sympathy for him?”
Beth looked pensive for a moment, then said, “I think the pressures of this job finally tipped him over. I feel sympathy because he’s a human being, but I feel no love. That’s gone.”
“Forever?” Taylor asked quietly.
“I don’t know. I really don’t know,” Beth said quietly.
“You know, if and when this n
ews breaks, it may be that other first ladies contact you; it may be you will find out weren’t alone in your feelings about this place,” Tay- or suggested.
“Um, yes” Beth said, “but it couldn’t have been as bad for them because, or if, they had a normal husband.”
“Even if someone was normal, don’t you think this place would have changed him or her?”
“Yes, that’s probably true,” Beth answered.
Although Taylor could see the bruise through the makeup, she felt she was seeing an entirely different person from the Beth she’d known over these past months. She knew she wasn’t reveling about Sam having to step down in disgrace, but at the same time, she was free, free to leave this place, free to be herself. “I, of course, will remain here as long as you do, but when you leave, what do you think, do you think you will still need me?”
Beth smiled. “Oh, Taylor, I don’t know what I would have done without you these two months and especially now. But at the same time, you have a life to live too. You need to get out of this cage as well.”
Taylor certainly would like to go back home, but she couldn’t leave until her job was done. “Do you think the press will now put two and two together and realize what I’m doing here?”
“I’m sure they will, but they may surmise you are here working with Sam, rather than with me, but you know, Taylor, I really don’t care anymore. They certainly will understand why I was depressed if they do find out. And Sam’s career is over anyway, so what does it matter?”
How would I feel about that? Taylor asked herself. She didn’t want anyone to think she’d been working with the President, because if she had, she’d been a miserable failure. “Well, I’ll leave it up to you whether you want me to stay or not. I certainly don’t think you need intensive therapy at this point. You’ve come to understand what depression is, you now understand about alcoholism, and you also understand Sam’s personality disorder. Yet it’s going to be a traumatic time with all the press stories about this. In some ways you may feel more harassed than when you were here.”
“I know, but somehow not having to hide everything, not having to be so false has liberated me, even before I’m liberated, do you know what I mean?” Beth looked at Taylor with a face marred by the bruise, yet lifted from a burden. She did indeed look liberated.
Yes, Taylor did know what she meant. And it seemed there was hope for herself as well, that she was soon to be liberated too. “No decision needs to be made now. I will stay until you no longer need me, and if you want me to go to Vermont, I will.”
Beth smiled that wonderful twinkly smile so seldom seen since Taylor had known her. “Thank you, Taylor. Just knowing you’re available helps.”
As it turned out, Beth left for Vermont two days later. There was a press storm, far worse than any snow storm or hurricane. It was the only topic of news—the President was ill, incapacitated. No one was able to find out what exactly was wrong with him, but there was plenty of speculation and stories of his drinking began to leak out. “Sources close to the White House say,” were the opening lines as discussion after discussion went on. The Vice-President had taken over the Oval Office, but there was no talk of his moving into the White House. All the press reports conjectured this was temporary, that the President would be coming back.
Taylor saw Beth one last time before she left. The bruise was still visible, but she laughed often during their time together. “You have a very lyrical laugh, which I haven’t had the chance to hear much,” Taylor told her.
Beth laughed once more. “Oh, yes, I’ve been told that before. You know, Taylor, I used to laugh a lot. I feel like my personality is back. I feel like my old self, or maybe I should say, my young self!”
Taylor smiled at her enthusiasm. It was indeed as if she was seeing a different person than the woman she first met. “Do you know how the President is? Can you tell me?”
“I haven’t seen him,” Beth replied, shaking her head. “I understand he’s bellowing at the staff in the hospital, yelling at everyone, trying to order them around. And he keeps asking for me.”
“But you don’t want to go there.”
“No, I refuse. Do you think that’s terrible of me?”
Taylor certainly didn’t. After all she’d been through, she was actually happy to see her take a stand like this. “No, Beth, I don’t think it’s terrible. I think it’s brave. You are going against public opinion; you are taking care of yourself, putting yourself first, after all these years.”
Beth sighed. “I know he’s well taken care of. Frank keeps me posted every day, but he says that he isn’t going to change, that when he comes out of the hospital, he’ll probably be the same person, except perhaps angrier than ever.”
“That’s why it’s so important for you to leave here. Is he coming back?”
“I don’t know. Frank hopes he won’t, but Sam insists he was elected and, therefore has to be impeached or he won’t step down. He says he won’t resign.”
Taylor shuddered inwardly. “Will there be an investigation? As to why he was hospitalized, etc.? Won’t it all come out?”
“I don’t know, Taylor. As you know, the press is relentless and someone, probably a hospital employee, will talk sooner or later.”
They both sat silent for a moment, Taylor thinking of the consequences of all this for the nation. Then she asked, “And Anna?”
“Anna has been to see her father. She is a bit angry with me, actually. She says I should go, that I’m his wife.”
“How does that make you feel?”
“Sad. Sad, that she doesn’t understand me. That she seems to be taking sides.”
“Yes, it must be hard to have a daughter who doesn’t understand her mother,” Taylor said, feeling hypocritical. She changed the subject quickly, “So what do you think, do you want me to go with you to Vermont?”
Beth shook her head, smiling. “No, Taylor, I think I’m going to be just fine. I want you to go home, to go back to your life. I’ll be fine as long as Sam isn’t around and, as long as I’m out of the public eye, I know I’m going to be just fine.”
Taylor was very happy to hear that, but she meant it when she said she would go to Vermont. She wanted to make sure Beth was going to be all right. “All right then. Yes, I am anxious to go back to London, to my life. Is there a way we can keep in contact when you’re in Vermont? A safe way?”
“I hope so,” Beth smiled. “The secret service will go with me, as you know. Even if Sam doesn’t return to office, past presidents and their families continue to have protection. I’m hoping that through them there can be secure lines on which I can speak to you by phone.”
“And email. It would be good to keep in contact that way as well.”
“Yes. But you know, Taylor, I just feel so good right now, I really don’t think I need you anymore. Does that sound awful? I’m so grateful to you, but no one has a permanent therapist, do they?”
Taylor laughed. “Well, psychoanalysis sometimes goes on for five years, but no, you’re right. However, my clients always know they can return for top-up sessions now and then, when they need to. And if you’re ever in London….”
“Oh, I would love to come to London! And bring my mother; she’s never traveled at all. I’d love for you to meet her.”
“Good, then that’s settled,” Taylor said. “We won’t say goodbye, but I do want to know the end of your story, not just the versions in the press. And keep taking the Pro- zac for at least six months, to get you through this transition period.”
They stood up and once again, hugged. When Taylor left, they both had tears in their eyes.
Chapter Twenty-one
The plane circled low over the outskirts of London in the early morning. Taylor looked out the window at the green squares of farmland and felt pangs of joy. She was coming home. Although it was winter and the trees were bare, the fie
lds were green and she knew the parks would be lush with winter green.
It had all been so rushed the past few days. As soon as Beth left the residence Taylor was told by Lillian to pack her things, that she would be driven to the airport in three hours and that a first class ticket had been bought for her. She was elated to be going home.
Just as she was about to leave her room, Lillian once again appeared at her door. “Come in,” Taylor said, flashing back to the first time Lillian had come to her rooms.
“A check for $500,000 has been deposited in your bank in London,” Lillian said. “And I want to apologize for how I’ve had to treat you since you’ve been here. My only excuse is that I was so very worried, not only about Mrs. Carlson, but also about you, about someone finding out you were here.” “I know,” Taylor replied. “I must admit I was taken back at first, but I realize what a difficult time it’s been for you.” Lillian sat down without Taylor asking her to, so she surmised they had a few minutes. “I’ve been with Mrs. Carlson for all of these three years, and I’ve watched her change from a bright, interesting, warm woman into, well, into what you found when you came here. She didn’t confide in me, but I was close enough to her to know that something was terribly wrong with the marriage, with the President. But I couldn’t tell anyone and I couldn’t even broach it with her, so it was very hard for me. I care about her a great deal.”
So, Lillian had felt trapped as well. Taylor smiled warmly, “Oh, Lillian, it must have been awful for you. What will you do now? Where will you go?”
She sighed deeply. “Oh, I’m going to retire. I’m way past retirement age. I’m going to go home, that’s in Baltimore, I’m going to go home and putter in my garden and grow vegetables. And I hope I never, ever come anywhere close to politics again.”
“I’m sure the press will try to find out things from you.”
“Yes, but no one has to worry about me. My loyalty to Mrs. Carlson is solid. They won’t even get a foot in the door.”
Taylor smiled. The ominous side of Lillian’s character was reemerging. She was certain the press would never get anything out of her.