The President's Daughter

by Mariah Stewart

  Dina followed Gray into the cool of the house.

  "How about here, in the den?" Gray held the door for her, and she smiled tentatively.

  "That's fine." Dina followed him into the room.

  "I'm so grateful that you agreed to come here today, Dina. I've been wanting to meet you ever since... well, since ..."

  "I'm surprised you'd want to meet me at all." Dina looked up at him. "Since I am, after all, responsible for your sister's death."

  "My sister took your mother's life." Gray met her gaze head-on. "And, from what I understand, tried her best to take yours. My family and I were stunned. Never in a million years could we have imagined that Sarah would do such things. None of us were prepared for the truth, especially my mother. Sarah had been ... very ill... emotionally ... on and off as a young girl, but she'd received the very finest treatment. We'd been assured that her illness was far behind her. None of us could ever have guessed that it was still there, under the surface. Dr. Norton thinks that Sarah found out about you from the tape she stole from Simon's apartment—we found it in the glove box of her car—and apparently, the discovery triggered a relapse...."

  "But no one had noticed any change in her behavior?"

  "Actually, yes, Julian had. He'd spoken to my mother about a month earlier, about Sarah's mood swings and sudden bursts of anger. He'd tried to get her to return to the doctor, but she refused. Julian was hoping that Mother could convince her to go."

  "I'm assuming she declined."

  "She did. Unfortunately, no one realized just how deeply ill she was."

  "How is your mother doing?" Dina asked gently.

  "She's not been at all well since Sarah's death. It's all been such a horror for her. To find out that her daughter was a murderer, that she'd harbored such a terrible secret for so many years ..."

  "I'm so very sorry."

  "I appreciate that. This has all been too much for a woman of her age to deal with." Gray appeared to swallow hard. "It's been too much for all of us. Sarah deeply hurt so many people. Her children. Julian. Even his sister feels betrayed. You've heard, I suppose, that Sarah'd been driving Carolyn's car the night of the accident. Sarah told her that she'd hit a deer on one of the back roads around the school. Finding out what really happened has been a terrible shock to everyone."

  "Why did you invite me here, Gray?"

  "Because I felt that we needed to meet, at the very least. Because I felt you were due an apology on behalf of my family. Because I think my father would have wanted me to know you. And because there is the matter of needing to know how much information you're comfortable with ultimately being shared with the public."

  Dina sat back on the arm of a wingback chair placed to one side of a small brick fireplace, Gray sat on the arm of the chair facing hers.

  "None," Dina said adamantly.

  "You mean you're not planning on going on Oprah!" He tried to force a smile.

  "No. As a matter of fact, I'm not planning on telling anyone."

  "You could make a great deal of money from this."

  "Are you crazy? Do you know what would happen to my life?" Dina stood, horrified at the thought.

  "Yes. You'll be invited onto all the talk shows; you'll have people falling all over themselves to help you write your book."

  "Stop it." Dina glared at him as if he were a madman. "That's the last thing 1 want."

  "Well, that makes it easy," he said softly.

  "To do what?"

  "I'm sure that Simon has mentioned that I've been thinking about running for the presidency."

  Dina nodded.

  "If I do, my party will expect me to remind the public that my father was the embodiment of morality, just as Simon's book would do. I haven't yet decided if I can, in good conscience, do that." He looked up at the portrait that hung over the mantel. "At the same time, I have to know how you feel about having the truth come out."

  "I don't want it to," Dina said bluntly.

  "Then I will honor that. You've made this decision much easier for me"—he smiled at her—"since I do not believe I can run for that office without being truthful to the voters. I thank you for being honest with me. I know now exactly what I have to do."

  "I'm not sure I understand."

  "If I run, I will have a very difficult time not telling the truth about my father. He was a wonderful man, a wonderful President, but he was not perfect and he was not a saint. I cannot run for that office and pretend that he was. But at the same time, I cannot make this story public without bringing you into the fray. Since this affects your life, too, I feel you are entitled to decide whether or not you want your privacy invaded. I will respect that at any cost."

  "Are you saying that you would give up an opportunity to be the President of the United States?" Dina's jaw dropped.

  "My father took this secret to his grave. Maybe that's where it should stay."

  "Gray, I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say. This is a tremendous sacrifice to make for someone you don't know."

  "My family owes you much more than our silence, Dina. So much was taken from you." Gray tried to smile. "And besides, we may not know each other, you and I, but we are flesh and blood. That needs to be honored. We share the same father. Whatever else has come to light over these past few months cannot take away the fact that he was a wonderful father. I loved him very much."

  Gray's eyes clouded, teared. "I had the privilege of knowing him. You were denied that. I'd like to tell you about him, if you'd care to hear."

  "That's very, very generous of you," Dina whispered, touched deeply by Gray's effort.

  "I understand that he loved your mother very much." Gray stood and looked out the window.

  "So they tell me."

  "He loved mine, once, too," he said softly.

  "Then we have that in common." Tears formed in Dina's eyes without her realizing it.

  "That painting, there over the fireplace, was done only weeks before he died." Gray turned and pointed to the portrait.

  "You look like him." Dina looked up at the painting of the handsome man with the silver hair and the direct gaze and the smile that tilted the left side of his mouth. So like his son's.

  Gray went to the desk and opened the top drawer, took out a small wrapped package, and offered it to Dina.

  "I thought you might like to have this."

  Dina unwrapped the tissue paper and removed the picture frame within, turned it over to find a photograph of the late President. He wore a polo shirt over a plaid bathing suit and looked back over his shoulder from the prow of a handsome sailboat.

  "That was taken the first year that my... our ... father was in the White House," Gray told her. "I figured he would have met your mother around that time-----"

  "It's a wonderful picture. He had a wonderful face." Dina could no longer keep the tears back. "You are a thoughtful man, Gray. I cannot even begin to tell you how much your kindness means to me."

  Dina reached out and took his hand. "Simon tells me that everyone says you are so much like your father. If that's so, he must have been quite wonderful. History says he was a great President. I think you should think twice before you decide not to follow in his footsteps."

  "Thank you, I appreciate that, but I think it's best for everyone that I let the chance pass me by." Gray patted her hand, then let it go.

  "How will your wife feel about losing an opportunity to be the First Lady?"

  "She'll be one hundred percent behind my decision. She understands me, knows me well enough to know that I can't stand in front of the press and say things I don't mean. Besides, I'd like to see if, over time, you and I could get to know each other. I don't know how possible that would be if I were living in the White House." He looked up and smiled. "Some roads are better off not traveled, Dina. This feels like one of them."

  "Not many people would be so honorable. I admire that you're willing to stand behind your convictions. It can't be easy."

  "And not many people would
give up a chance for fame and fortune—after all, for the rest of your life, you'd be known as the daughter of a President. Who knows? They could end up making a movie about your life."

  "Ugh." Dina grimaced, and they both laughed. "But if we are going to get to know each other, I guess that mutual respect is a good place to start."

  The door opened and a young boy with dark hair and darker eyes stuck his head in.

  "Oops. Sorry, Dad." He backed away.

  "It's all right, Son. Come in. I'd like you to meet Dina. She's... a friend...."

  How'd it go? Simon mouthed the words as Dina and Gray returned to the patio area where Norton was talking about the book that he and Simon had collaborated on.

  Very promising, she mouthed back as she joined the group seated around a low table of glass and bamboo.

  "... and so I'm not certain what the future of the book will be," Norton concluded.

  "Why is its future uncertain, if I might ask?" Dina stood behind Simon's chair, her hand resting on his shoulder.

  "Well, the intent of the book was to lay the foundation for Gray's run for the presidency," Norton reminded her. "Should Gray choose not to run, we might have to reconsider whether or not to go forward with it."

  "Now I hope that wasn't an attempt to influence my decision," Gray said.

  "Not at all, son. It's not just a matter of economics. A book such as this would generate greater interest, greater sales, if Gray were running," Norton told them. "But there's also the matter of not appearing to capitalize on the current situation. Some might feel it's insensitive to publish such a book immediately on the heels of Sarah's death. For some that might not be an issue. However, for me, given my long association with this family ... well, let's just say I'm in no hurry right now."

  "If you'll excuse me—I think the caterer is here." Jen looked towards the drive and the van that had just pulled in. "I thought I'd have dinner brought in tonight, rather than cook, so that I could devote my time to my company. I'll just show them where to set up."

  Jen disappeared through the gate.

  "Simon, can I get you another beer?" Gray asked.

  "No, thanks." Simon stood. "But I do think I'd like to share that view of the sea with Dina before dinner."

  Simon took Dina's hand and, with a backward glance at the bar where Philip was scooping ice into his glass, turned her toward the vast lawn that lay between the patio and the sea.

  When they were out of earshot of the patio, Simon asked, "So all went well? You're okay being here?"

  "Well, I admit that I felt intimidated at first, but Gray has been incredibly kind. He gave me a wonderful photograph of Graham. He's a most extraordinary man, Gray is. I don't think I've ever met anyone like him."

  "I couldn't agree more. Gray is exceptional. I've never known anyone like him, either."

  "I think in time we could be friends. I want to be his friend." Dina thought about it for a moment, then said, "Maybe someday I could even think of him as my brother. Maybe."

  "I'm glad that it went well for you." Simon draped an arm over her shoulder. "How do you think Jude will feel about that?"

  "This is hard for her, but she will need to adjust. I think she'll come around. She really only wants the best for me. I know in my heart that that's all she ever wanted."

  "I'm sure it's difficult for her, as your mother, to deal with a lot of what's happened. It's fortunate that you are so understanding of her."

  "I love her." That was all the reason necessary as far as Dina was concerned. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun, then asked, "Do you think Celeste knew that Sarah killed Blythe?"

  "I've wondered about that myself."

  "Gray said that his mother is just devastated about what happened, that she was shocked to hear about what Sarah had done, but..."

  "But you have to wonder if she hadn't known all along and covered up for her. After all, she did whisk Sarah out of the country and to a clinic in Switzerland very shortly after Blythe's death," Simon noted.

  "Maybe Jude wasn't the only one keeping secrets for the sake of her child," Dina whispered.

  "I doubt we'll ever know for certain." Simon leaned the side of his head against hers.

  For a few long minutes they stood close together, drinking in the salt air, basking in the warmth of the sunshine, lost in the roar of the surf from below.

  "Tell me about Dr. Norton's wife," Dina broke the silence. "What exactly happened to her?"

  "She committed suicide."

  "Oh, my God! How terrible!"

  "It was terrible. She'd lost her son some years before—he'd been kidnapped when he was young. She didn't leave a note, but everyone pretty much thought that she just could not face one more morning of not knowing what happened to her son."

  "That's just horrible." Dina shivered. "Was he their only child?"

  "Actually, he was her son. She'd been married once before and widowed. She had a daughter, too, but I lost track of her over the years. Someone told me recently that she's a composite artist, you know, a sketch artist? She must be in her early thirties by now. But Elisa and Philip had no children together."

  "That's so sad, Simon. Sad for her, for her daughter. Sad for him ..."

  "He's never really recovered from it. He's never been the same."

  They came to the edge of the cliff and looked out across the vast expanse of water. Waves below crashed lustily against the rocks.

  "This is incredible. Look out there, Simon; look at all the sailboats. Doesn't it look wonderful?"

  "It does. Did you ever sail?"

  "No. I'm one hundred percent landlubber, I'm afraid. Jude's never been much for water sports."

  "Maybe you can get Gray to take you out one of these days."

  "I just might do that."

  "What did Gray have to say about... well, about all that's happened?"

  "He wanted to know how I felt about making the story public." Dina laid her head against Simon's shoulder. "I told him I'd be happiest if we just all went on as we were."

  "And he'll honor that?"

  "He'll decline the nomination for the presidency if he thinks he can't run honorably."

  "He told you that?"

  Dina nodded.

  "I hope he keeps his word."

  "He will."

  "How can you be so sure?"

  "I trust him, Simon. I think he's a very sincere man."

  "Not to say that he isn't, but that's what they always said about his father."

  "I guess it's hard to reconcile the man who swore he'd never lie to the American people with the man who sure enough did lie to his wife."

  "Funny thing about Graham Senior. I do think that for most of his life, he acted from the highest moral standards. I think maybe the only time in his life that he slipped was in his relationship with Blythe. I think maybe his love for her was so strong, so overpowering, that he just didn't have the strength to turn away from her. I think it was bigger than anything else in his life."

  "That doesn't make it right," Dina said softly.

  "No. But I have to admit that I'm starting to understand how he felt. How love can be so strong and so all-encompassing that you'd give up anything for its sake. While I agree that what Graham did wasn't necessarily right, I'd be lying if 1 said I didn't understand how loving someone that much can change you. Can make you do things you never thought you'd do." Simon nipped at her ear. "For example, I never thought that rising at dawn would ever become part of my everyday routine."

  "You don't have to get up with me," she laughed. "I've told you that you could sleep—"

  "Ah, but then I'd miss out on loving you into the new day." Simon kissed her. "Not to mention that great coffee that you make."

  "Oh, so it's my coffee that keeps you hanging around."

  "That and your many talents." He whispered a few of his favorites in her ear, and she laughed again, the sound of it carrying down to the sea.

  Simon stood behind Dina, his arms around her in
a close circle, as they faced out to the sea.

  "So, then, are you glad you came?" He nuzzled the side of her face. "All's well that ends well?"

  "Yes, I'm glad I came. I never had a sibling and it's still hard now to think that I do. I want to get to know him better, and his family, too. Maybe see a bit more of Graham Senior through his son's eyes. But I don't want you thinking for a minute that this is the end, Simon Keller."

  Dina turned in his arms, her arms encircling his neck.

  "Oh, no, love. This is only the beginning...."