Protect and Defend

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Protect and Defend Page 46

by Richard North Patterson


  “I was.” Remembering his impulsive flight home, his pleasure at imagining Allie’s pleasure, Chad felt the foolishness of his own words. “I wanted to surprise you.”

  Allie closed her eyes. “You did, Chad. You surely did. And now you can go back.”

  Chad flinched. The unfairness of it hit him hard, the sense of separateness ever since his release from captivity, of having become superfluous. “If she’s our daughter,” he answered, “then I must be her father. You can’t just fire me—or is that what you want?”

  Opening her eyes, Allie gripped the lapels of his suit coat. “No, Chad. It’s not what I want. What I want is time to deal with this, before you two hurt each other even more. Please.”

  In the morning, Chad was gone. When next he saw his daughter, she was pregnant.

  Kyle sat at the kitchen table. Bending, he kissed her forehead. She did not look up at him, or speak.

  Turning to Allie, Chad saw her nod toward the sunroom. He followed her there.

  He closed the glass doors, and they sat on the sofa. The Saturday morning was bright with spring; on their lawn, which Chad saw through the window, two squirrels ran up an oak tree. A frayed rope still hung where Kyle’s tire swing once had been; Chad could recall pushing her, her childish shrieks of delight.

  “What now?” he murmured to Allie. “What now?”

  She looked at him guardedly. “An abortion, Chad—to start.”

  Chad’s returning gaze was steady. “I don’t believe in it …”

  “That’s politics, Chad. This is Kyle.”

  “It’s not just politics. I happen to believe this is a life, even if the father’s an evolutionary cul-de-sac.” Chad felt a sudden, visceral anger. “Where is good old Eric, by the way? Has he found the clothes, or the guts, to show his face? Or is he making her deal with this alone?”

  “Yes.” Allie’s voice was tired. “He’s dropped her, as you predicted. Kyle’s devastated.”

  “For which she blames me, I suppose.”

  Though she regarded him with a straightforward look, Allie was silent.

  “Whatever she thinks of me,” Chad said at last, “this isn’t wart removal. If there’s anything I learned in prison, it’s how precious life is, and how careful we should be about assuming the right to take it.

  “I’m as sick for Kyle as you are. But this has to do with how we value life, and how we—including Kyle—take responsibility for what we do. It’s more than an inconvenience, and we don’t fix it by what, to me, involves murdering the innocent victim of her mistake. Kyle was once a fetus, you’ll recall.”

  Allie’s voice, though level, was faintly accusatory. “She was also wanted.” At least then, she did not need to add.

  Chad took her hand. “I’m not trying to punish her, believe me. I wish she weren’t pregnant. But either we can care for this child, or find someone who will—God knows there are enough very sad couples out there, who’ve been trying to do for years what Kyle and Eric managed to accomplish in an instant.” He softened his voice. “If there’s any good to come of this, that would be it. Abortion would be just one more ugly, irresponsible act, with us as aiders and abetters. I don’t think that’s good for any of us.”

  Allie bit her lip. “No, Chad. However you feel, it would be best for our daughter. If I thought an abortion was irresponsible, or that she could withstand pregnancy and motherhood, that might be an option. But she’s on the brink already—to the point of harming herself. To be abandoned, and then pregnant, would damage her even more. And adoption would be traumatic …”

  “For whom?” Chad retorted. “Is this all about Kyle, and nothing else?”

  “For me, it has to be.” Her voice was thin now. “She’s the one I love, Chad. She came to this decision after hours of talking with me—and Dr. Blevins.

  “Kyle understands what this involves. But it also involves the child of a girl who was using drugs and alcohol, and who doesn’t have the strength to go through an adoption. And Dr. Blevins worries that forcing her to have a child would drive a wedge between us which we might never fix. I can’t risk that—for her, or us.”

  “Dr. Blevins,” Chad answered, “may think that treating a fetus like a wart is good for Kyle’s moral development, and no doubt for mankind in general. But I don’t agree—on either point.”

  Allie squared her shoulders. “I know you don’t. But this is a family, not a conclave of the Christian Commitment, and no one’s treating abortion like ‘wart removal.’ It’s what she wants and needs, and what I as her mother believe is best …”

  “So once again, I’m irrelevant. As her father, my highest and best purpose is to stay out of the way.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “Allie,” Chad said, “that’s the kind of empty thing someone says when it’s exactly what they’re saying. So let’s skip the verbal foreplay, and get to what you plan to do.”

  Allie’s face was rigid. “There’s a parental consent law, Chad. I’m planning to support our daughter and protect you. With whatever misgivings, I intend to sign the form …”

  “Regardless of what I think.”

  “One parent is all it takes, and I’m willing to be that parent.” Allie’s voice became quiet. “Dr. Jacobs is my high school classmate. This will be confidential, and she more than understands our needs.”

  Chad stood. “Do you think that’s what I’m worried about?”

  “No.” Allie’s demeanor was calm now. “But I don’t think it’s fair that you pay the price for my doing this. I accept that you feel differently …”

  “That’s very gracious.” Chad felt a fresh burst of anger and frustration. “Others, if they ever find out, won’t be quite as large-spirited in absolving me. But, as I say, for me that’s the least of it.”

  Allie stood, resting her hands on his arms. “But not for me,” she said quietly. “I know you hurt, and I know she hurts. I don’t want either of you hurt anymore.”

  Chad shook his head. “Your friend can hide the form in her files. But kids talk. Eric talks—knowing him, he’s probably proud of his achievement. Especially one for which he’ll bear no responsibility at all.”

  Allie bent her head. “You’re right. And I’m sorry. There aren’t any guarantees. There’s no guarantee even that abortion is what’s best for her. All I can do is listen to her, make the best judgment I can, and pray it’s right.”

  With this, Chad felt her burden, the resistance seeping out of him. “I’m sorry, too.”

  “Then do something for me, please. Tell Kyle you still love her.” Allie looked up at him again. “Please, Chad. You may not believe this, but that would mean more to her than anything I can say. Or do.”

  Chad studied her. “There’s something I want from you,” he said at last. “And it’s relevant to all of this. Including the fact I’ve become an outsider, so that I don’t trust myself with her, and you don’t either. To the point you drag me off to the sun-room so Kyle doesn’t hear us.”

  “What is it?”

  “I want you to move to Washington. Both of you.”

  Allie gazed at him in open surprise. “Why?”

  “It would be a fresh start for Kyle—and for us.” His tone was calm and clear. “You say we’re a family, but I’m a weekend father—I pay the price of family, but I’m not part of it. And there’s no argument, anymore, that staying here is good for her.”

  Allie’s brow furrowed. “This is very new, Chad.”

  “Not to me. It’s what I should have done, after I was released. Instead, I picked up where I left off—even though life as an itinerant husband wasn’t what I wanted anymore. I’m tired of collaborating in my own uselessness.”

  He touched her face and spoke softly. “I’ll work with you, Allie. I want to, very much. But you’ll have to accept me as a father, in more than name.”

  Allie leaned her head against his chest, taking a deep breath. When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes.

  “
Then go to her. Please.”

  Chad did that.

  It was not easy, and never quite became so.

  After her abortion, Kyle had good days, and others where her depression, as before, seemed close to suicidal. After the move, Allie hewed to her closely—through a new therapist, new private school, and, gradually, a friendship or two, which Allie nurtured with anxiety and care. Slowly, Kyle’s mood seem to lift, and her presence in their home became less like a ticking time bomb, then less volatile altogether. To Chad, this felt like a collective release of breath.

  Kyle would never be as close to him as she was to Allie. But what they achieved was a kind of peace, in which Chad, teaching himself an unwonted patience, served the family as a steady presence.

  His efforts, Chad reflected, must have helped. For years, Allie still suffered when Kyle went out the door, fearing a mischance that would drive her back into despair, or even take her life. But Kyle’s bouts with drinking, while they still occurred, became rare, and drugs vanished from her life. For whatever reason, their move to Washington seemed to have worked.

  Yet they took nothing for granted. Chad became invested in their new success: although pressured to run for President in the election just won by Kerry Kilcannon, Chad had demurred—it was too soon, he calculated, to separate from his family once again, or place Kyle in the spotlight.

  “She knows you feel that,” Allie told him. “And so now she’s sure you love her. She never was, before.”

  If this was so, Chad thought, then he had accomplished something. Certainly his daughter had. Though he often wondered what would have happened had Kyle kept her child, all he could know was what had happened once she did not. And now she was in a local college, studying fashion design, and her every small accomplishment was something Chad Palmer carried with him.

  In his own life, too, Chad was changed. He remained pro-life, a belief at once too genuine to discard and too necessary to his survival as a Republican. Still, he was quieter about it—out of sensitivity to Kyle and concern for himself, and to a degree, because of the questions Kyle’s experience had planted in his mind. On this point, he had no wish for attention. But there was no way to escape it altogether: the Christian Commitment, while it could not fault his voting record, had begun to question his zeal.

  Its scrutiny deepened another belief Chad had always held: that the private life of a public figure should be his—or hers—alone. It was that, even more than Kerry Kilcannon’s blandishments, which had secured Chad’s commitment to protect Caroline Masters. And the fact that Caroline acted as Chad wished Kyle could have, and had a daughter of her own, left him with no real choice.

  “The things that matter most,” he had said to Allie, “transcend politics.”

  But now Masters was the center of a firestorm, and he had to find a way out for them.

  “This,” he told Allie, “is where the politics of abortion meets the politics of investigation. Everyone, not just Caroline Masters, will become fair game.

  “Our daughter had an abortion. That makes me a total hypocrite—to pro-choicers because I remain pro-life, to pro-lifers because I acquiesced, to everyone because I’m silent about whatever I may have learned. And God help us if Macdonald Gage finds out.” He shook his head. “I don’t want Kyle to become the next Mary Ann Tierney. She’s too fragile.”

  Allie touched his wrist. “The files are confidential,” she said. “How would they ever know?”

  “Files get stolen, or leaked.” Seeing her worry, Chad hesitated before adding, “Eric’s still out there, Allie. If he thinks it’s time to tell his story, there’s nothing we can do.”

  Allie’s lips parted. “Can you resign the chairmanship?”

  This, Chad thought, was a measure of her fears. “Now?” he asked her gently. “Deciding not to run for President was one thing, but resigning really would bring the hounds to our door. All I can do is quietly fall in line with my colleagues, and hope that Caroline Masters is gone soon.”

  Silent now, Allie kept her hand on his wrist. “It’s too bad,” Chad mused aloud. “I may not agree with Masters, but I like her a great deal. Same with Kerry. More and more, I tend to like the people who don’t believe as I do more than the ones who do. The Christian Commitment has made me wonder— some of those fanatics don’t understand how complex life can be. You’re either good, or bad.”

  Allie managed to smile. “You’re good, Chad. Because you are complex.”

  Looking into her face, Chad felt reality closing in on them. “What I am,” he told her, “is chastened. You hurry along, eyes on the prize, and then something forces you to see how selfish and delusional politics can make you. Yesterday I was the powerful chairman of Judiciary, at the top of my game. And now …”

  His voice trailed off.

  Beside them, the telephone rang again.

  SIX

  “I THOUGHT you’d died,” Kerry said with a trace of humor. “You don’t usually hide out so long.”

  “I’ve been busy,” Chad answered, “taking calls from Judge Masters’s new admirers. Both of them. I assume Coletti told you what I think—that you should pull the plug.”

  “Because she’s right?”

  “She’s not right.” Over the telephone, Chad sounded testy. “And it doesn’t matter if she is.”

  Kerry felt Lara’s hand, gently resting on his shoulder. “It matters, Chad. It matters to women. It matters to me.”

  “With all respect,” Chad countered, “you don’t matter anymore. This is going to be dirty, and you and Masters are going to lose. Unless you back out now.”

  Kerry kept his voice even. “Before the Tierney decision, she was the best qualified to be Chief Justice. She still is. You’re asking me to dump her over a single vote …”

  “A single disastrous vote. Don’t be a Boy Scout, Mr. President—or a megalomaniac. This isn’t just about you, and what you want.” Chad’s tone was clipped. “You signed me on to cover for her. But not through this mess.”

  With deliberate calm, Kerry asked, “Are you breaking your word?”

  There was silence. At length Chad said, “You owe me on this one, dammit. If you push it, chances are what’s in the file gets out, and gets worse. Which puts me at more risk.”

  Turning, Kerry glanced at Lara; she watched him with eyebrows raised, mirroring his concern. “Maybe so,” he told Chad, “but I can’t explain that to the American public—or to Gage. All they’d know is that I dumped Judge Masters.”

  “Then that’s the price of honor …”

  “The price of honor,” Kerry snapped, “is keeping your word when it’s hard. Or do you want to expose the daughter yourself.”

  Chad emitted a harsh, cynical laugh. “You know I can’t— not without people wondering when I first found out. And I know you wouldn’t mind that much if I did oppose her. So cut the crap, Mr. President …”

  “You too, pal. Your party is losing women, and you want to be President. However you play abortion, you don’t want to be the symbol of an antichoice crusade. Not if you want my job.”

  “I do,” Chad shot back. “And so does Gage.”

  “Gage,” Kerry said with scorn, “is mortgaged to the far right, who’ve got a fucking death wish. If you want to compete for votes in that fever swamp, be my guest. I’ll get reelected without ever leaving home.”

  There was another silence, briefer now. “Just what,” Chad inquired in an unimpressed tone, “do you propose to do?”

  They were in a war of nerves, Kerry knew; if Chad decided to oppose Caroline with all of his considerable force, there was no way to save her, and little point in trying. “I propose to keep her,” Kerry said evenly. “And let you Republicans define yourselves …”

  “You’d create a train wreck? Just for the hell of it? I don’t think so. Or you wouldn’t have already called me three times.”

  Kerry felt his chest tighten. Softly, he said, “I want to win, Chad. I want Masters on the Court. And I’ll do whatever I need t
o to put her there.”

  Listening, Chad was appalled. If Kerry waged a war, not just a pro forma effort, there might be no containing the damage.

  “That’s crazy,” Chad said. “You can’t win this.”

  “Oh, I’ll win,” the President answered. “But how I win depends on you. If you don’t go all out against her, she’s got a chance. If you do, then you’ll look like Gage—another running dog of the religious right who takes down a qualified and courageous woman. Which I’ll be happy to road test for the next campaign.”

  Quickly, Chad tried to assess all he knew about Kerry Kilcannon. But Kerry’s essential character offered Chad no certainty. Kilcannon was a risk-taker, unafraid of controversy, and his intuition often ran against the grain. Now, as President, he might consider it necessary to meet Gage head-on.

  Evenly, Chad asked, “What part do I play in this fantasy?”

  “The loyal—and temperate—opposition. I don’t expect you to support her. But if you oppose her, please do it quietly. Don’t lobby for votes—”

  “Gage,” Chad interjected, “wants me to reopen hearings.”

  “Fine,” Kerry said with surprising calm. “That gives you an excuse to play the statesman—as chairman, you shouldn’t head a lynch mob. And Caroline would have an opportunity to defend herself …”

  “Bullshit. It would string this out for the scandalmongers— and increase exponentially the chance that the daughter gets exposed, along with our little game of footsie.” Chad’s voice rose. “If that’s what you want, I’ll make sure to sink her first …”

  Kerry’s forehead was damp. Beside him, Lara moved closer.

  “New hearings are a risk,” he conceded, “but they could give you cover, and me time to build support for Caroline. I’m not sure they wouldn’t backfire on Gage …”

  “Wake up,” he heard Chad snap. “Gage may try to force me to kill her in committee. She could never even get to the floor.”

  Kerry knew this. What was telling, and puzzling, was that Chad seemed not to sense when Kerry was fencing. The pressure of his new chairmanship, and Caroline’s secret, appeared to be fraying him to a point that Kerry found surprising.

 

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