Season of Hope

by Virginia Carmichael

  “He didn’t say why he was here. I also didn’t ask. I didn’t figure he’d want to share his business with a lowly administrator.” Tom was more than that. He could run the whole local organization in a pinch. There were few things he didn’t know, and that Gavin was connected to McHale in a very ugly way was one of them.

  “He’s been waiting about an hour.” Tom tossed the last bit over his shoulder as he wandered back to his desk, but the look they exchanged said it all. The senator never waited. Ever.

  McHale had visited the CDC before. It was part of his election year rounds. Gavin had been struck by his utter arrogance. There were people who loved power. It happened in every profession. Unfortunately, McHale was determined to keep his power at any cost. Anything that made him look bad was blacklisted, no matter the reason. And an uncontrolled pertussis epidemic could certainly be considered a negative.

  Allison was another. She’d ruined his presidential aspirations once. Revealing that he’d fathered a child out of wedlock and refused to acknowledge him might be the final nail in his political coffin.

  Gavin steeled himself before opening the door, resisting the urge to knock. It was his office, after all. McHale was sitting behind Gavin’s desk, looking right at home. His dark hair was perfectly combed, manicured hands casually flicking through a stack of papers. Gavin wasn’t overly territorial, but if he hadn’t already had a bone to pick with the man, he certainly would have at the sight of McHale reading his personal notes.

  “Finally back.” The man didn’t even have the good grace to pretend he hadn’t just been rifling through Gavin’s desk. He took one last peek and then tossed the stack down. Expensive suit perfectly pressed, silk tie straight as an arrow, a light tan that was more California than Colorado. He’d aged well since the last time they’d been in the same room. Or hadn’t aged at all, really. Politicians and celebrities seemed to hang at thirty for a few decades before they got wrinkles like the rest of humanity.

  Gavin itched to straighten the papers, but he was so angry he forced himself to remain perfectly still. If he started moving toward the desk, he might just keep going until he grabbed McHale by the tie.

  “How can I help you today?” He was proud of his easy tone and wished he could force a smile to go with it, but that was too much to ask of any man.

  “I need copies of every outreach program, every vaccine push and every community education session you’ve put together. This outbreak is unfortunate, but it’s spreading unchecked.” He leaned forward, black eyes narrowed. “That’s your job, in case you didn’t know. And when you don’t do your job, it makes me look like I’m not doing my job.”

  Gavin had known what was coming, had prepared for it, and it still made his blood pressure skyrocket. McHale wouldn’t know one end of a graph from another; the papers wouldn’t do him a bit of good. He was blowing hot air. And Gavin was in no mood to be bullied.

  He bought a few seconds to calm himself by slipping off his coat and hanging it on the rack behind the door. His face felt hot, his collar too tight. He lowered himself into the guest chair. “I can do that. And we’re starting a new series in The Chronicle tomorrow.”

  “Better be a good series. But is The Chronicle the biggest paper? What about The Daily?” McHale leaned over the desk, long fingers laced together in a contemplative pose. “Anyway, whichever one you put it in, you’ve got to be working day and night. Make sure everyone knows that this office is doing something, not just testing samples and visiting the hospitals. I don’t care if you have to go door to door. These numbers are way too high, and if it spreads from Denver to other places, they’ll come looking to see who let it happen.”

  Of course they would. And there wouldn’t be any support from McHale, clearly. If Gavin hadn’t already been working on not hating the guy, he would be now.

  “Well, if I’m out going door to door, they won’t be able to find me. Maybe the lab crew can give them a statement.”

  The placid expression vanished from McHale’s face. “This isn’t a joke,” he barked, eyes angry slits.

  “I’m not laughing.” Gavin stood up and stepped closer to his desk. “You may be concerned about how this makes us look, but I’m trying to save lives. I won’t play media consultant when there’s an epidemic.”

  The senator may have been pushing fifty but he was still fit. He stood up so quickly it looked like he’d bolt over the desk. “Those papers are here to make us look good, when we need them. You think this is all about keeping babies healthy? It’s not. You’re funded by the government, which is run by politicians. If people think you’re inefficient, they complain to me. I get enough complaints and we’ll cut every program you have down to nothing.”

  The words thumped and rumbled around in his head like shoes in a dryer. “I’ll give you the files and a copy of the story that’s running in The Chronicle.” He didn’t offer more.

  He stood silently, debating. Gavin waited, watching emotions flash over McHale’s features. Anger, frustration, cold calm.

  “Fine. And if I hear anything negative about this office, anything at all, I’ll be back. Use some of your time to cover your backsides. Even if it takes manpower away from reaching the at-risk people in this city.”

  Gavin’s muscles tensed from the base of his skull all the way down his spine. “You’re telling me to take people off the regular task force and put them on media outreach, just so we can look good?”

  Walking around the desk and standing inches away, his pale blue eyes cold and calculating, McHale said, “If looking good keeps your office open, then I would think you would be on board.”

  They stood nose to nose, Gavin refusing to blink. He clenched his fists and willed himself to speak calmly. For Allison’s sake—for Sean’s sake—he kept his cool.

  “Looking good should be keeping the pertussis from taking over the city. I don’t care if the public thinks I sit here and watch football all day. I’m going to do my job to get the preventative measures in place and try to stay ahead of the storm. The rest will have to wait.”

  “Know what your problem is, Gavin? You think if you work hard, the public will see it. But honestly, the average American isn’t that perceptive. They have to be told when someone is doing their job. And part of your job now is to make sure they know how hard this office is working. You need me to make it official and put it in your job description? I’m sure I can get the director to do that.”

  With those finals words, he turned on his heel. As his hand reached the door knob, he paused. Gavin felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

  “I know your sister’s back in town. She should have stayed in Florida.”

  Blood was rushing in his ears. “She needed to be near family. Her son—your son—is growing up fast.” He was surprised at how calm he sounded.

  McHale’s eyes glittered with anger. “Don’t ever say that again. She ruined my chances for a party nomination. She won’t destroy my career.”

  In two steps, without his brain giving directions, Gavin crossed the room. He was twenty years younger and six inches taller, and rage was fueling his every movement. He wanted to wrap McHale’s tie around his fist and pull him in close. Through sheer force of will, his hands stayed where they needed to be: by his sides. “She didn’t ruin your chances, you did. And Sean is a child, an innocent victim. You need to reevaluate your priorities.”

  For several seconds they breathed the same air, locked in furious silence. Then McHale turned on his heel and walked out.

  Breathing heavily, Gavin tried to get control of his anger. Wasn’t it enough for Allison to be estranged from the father of her child? Did he have to be a power-obsessed politician concerned only with his own image?

  Falling into a chair, Gavin stared unseeing at the stack of papers on his desk. His chest ached at the thought of Allison in the same city as McHale and not
even getting a phone call. What a waste of a man. She’d wised up as soon as she’d found out she was having Sean. But her little boy deserved better than that.

  Between a rock and a hard place, that was his life. McHale above him, pertussis creeping up from behind, and all the time there was his nephew, a little guy who never asked for any of this drama. Time to call Evie, see if she could put in some lines about the disease prevention center working overtime. Hot anger swept through him. He hated to even think of trying to spin the facts. This wasn’t how he wanted to spend his time.

  Was it possible to run an article that made McHale happy and still got the information out to the public? It would be an article that was three quarters sunshine and one quarter lifesaving, ugly facts. Journalists spun a web of words that changed opinion, sometimes regardless of the reality. It made him sick to even consider their expertise to sway public opinion. But McHale was going to be watching the pertussis outbreak very closely for any negative comments from the community.

  Gavin took a steadying breath. Evie seemed like she walked her faith. Only time would tell if that was true. Meanwhile, he needed to focus on Allison and Sean and getting the epidemic under control. Help me remember, Lord, the only opinion that matters is Yours.

  * * *

  Evie felt the slam of a very small body against the back of her knees and tried not to pitch forward. She grabbed the bike rack to her left and let out a yelp.

  “Sorry, Evie! Jaden, give your auntie some warning.” Stacey was trotting up the sidewalk, obviously left behind when Jaden saw Evie and made a break for it. Her rounded tummy was her only handicap, but that had been enough to give him a head start.

  “It’s okay. I was just surprised.” Evie twisted around and rubbed the top of Jaden’s knitted hat. His arms were wrapped firmly around her waist, and he was grinning up at her, one front tooth missing.

  “Do you see it, Aunt Evie? Do you?” He opened his mouth wider and wider, pointing with one mittened hand.

  “Buddy, your mouth is open so wide I can see your lunch. But if you’re talking about that gap in your teeth, I would bet that somebody lost a tooth.”

  “It was me! I’m the one!” He let go long enough to jump up and down. Huge brown eyes were even wider with excitement.

  Evie shot a glance at Stacey, grinning. Her cousin was three years younger than Evie and about ten years further down the road to domestic bliss. Every now and then Evie caught the slightest sir of jealousy in her heart. Okay, maybe more than a slight stir. More like a full-blown green-eyed monster attack. The pretty blonde had lucked out first try and was married to her high school sweetheart. Another baby was on the way, who would probably have Stacey’s blond hair and Andy’s big brown eyes, just like Jaden did. Blessed. That was the word Evie would use for her cousin’s life.

  “Let’s head over to the park before it gets any colder. I heard the temperature is going to drop this afternoon.” Stacey handed Evie a deli cup of what smelled like vanilla chai.

  “Wow, how did I miss this?” Evie took a sip, almost scalding her tongue.

  “You missed it when Jaden tackled you.” Stacey fell into step beside her as they walked toward the city center park. Lots of moms and dads and kids around on a freezing Saturday, but Denver worked that way. If you couldn’t handle the cold, you’d better stay inside or, better yet, move to Texas. The city didn’t stop for a few inches of snow, or even a few feet. It was just normal to look up and see snow on the mountains. And the streets and the cars.

  Jaden raced ahead and went straight for the slide. Kids swarmed the area, adults clustered every few feet, trying to keep warm with coffee and oversize parkas.

  “There’s a free bench. Somebody already scraped the snow off.” Stacey settled on one end and hunched over her coffee.

  “Before I forget, there’s someone who’s just moving here and she has a little boy Jaden’s age. Would you want to have a playdate with them? To help them settle in to their new city and everything.”

  “There’s no harm in that. We’re always up for a park date. How do you know her?”

  “I don’t, actually. It’s the sister of someone on the finance board at the Mission. They just mentioned it and I thought of you.” Evie wrapped her hands around her cup and stared out at the playground, thinking of Gavin. She wondered if his sister would have his warm brown eyes, or his quiet sense of humor.

  “Just a someone?”

  “What?” Evie was caught off guard.

  Stacey shot her a calculating look. “You normally use names. And a gender. Unless you’ve vowed to keep his identity a secret.”

  She could feel her face getting warm. There wasn’t anything between them so there was no reason to be embarrassed. Or whatever it was she was feeling. “That wasn’t on purpose. Gavin Sawyer, male, no secret identity that I know of yet.”

  Stacey grinned at her and said nothing.

  “We’re also working on an article about pertussis. He’s a disease prevention specialist, works in community outreach.” There, that was Gavin in a nutshell. Except for that slow smile he had, the one that made a girl forget she hated flirting. And maybe it would be fair to mention the way his hair curled just a bit over his collar. And how he stood a good head taller than she was, and was very fit, but he never made her feel weak.

  “Is he cute?”

  Evie rolled her eyes, pretending to dismiss the question.

  “Do I have to ask you again?” Stacey was smirking into her cup.

  “Okay, a little cute.” She shot her cousin a glance. “A lot cute. He’s one of those guys that gets a first and a second look. But then when you talk to him, you forget about how gorgeous he is because there’s so much going on in his head.” She huffed out a breath. “Happy?”

  “Cute and smart. Gotcha. So you’re going to use me to get to him through his sister? Not that I mind, I’m just trying to figure out my role here.”

  “No! Of course not.” Evie glared out at the park, watching kids running every which way.

  “Sure you don’t want me to put in a good word for you?” Stacey’s voice was shaking with laughter.

  Evie said nothing, wishing she hadn’t tried to explain. She wasn’t even sure what Gavin was, except he was interesting in a way not many other men were. She met a lot of people in her job at the paper. Some good, some bad, most of them just like her. But he was different. Of course, that didn’t mean he’d want a woman like her, with an ugly little past tagging along behind her everywhere she went.

  Stacey grabbed her hand. “I’m just teasing you, cuz. You don’t need my help at all. You can reel this guy in all by yourself. It’s my way of saying how thrilled I am you’ve found someone.”

  Evie shook her head. “I haven’t found anybody. It’s not like that.” She would have said “at all,” but that wouldn’t have been completely true. She wished there was a little bit of reality to Stacey’s overactive imagination.

  “Okay, we’ll just wait and see.” But Evie could tell Stacey was already planning bridal gowns in her head.

  “How’s the new guy?” The baby was due in three weeks and Stacey looked tired.

  “Active. Keeps me up all night with his gymnastics.” She grinned over her cup, blond hair falling around her face. “I don’t mind so much. It’s been tons easier than when we had Jaden.”

  Evie thought hard, going back five years to when Stacey and Andy were expecting the first time. She shook her head. “Sorry, you must not have whined enough. I don’t remember anything but being excited.”

  A group of little girls raced by, screeching. Stacey watched them with a smile that slowly slipped from her face. “I probably didn’t share what was going on, but we were in a really tough spot.”

  Evie turned her whole body, staring at her cousin. “You and Andy were having trouble?”

  “No,
not like that.” She took a sip and stared out at the playground. “He’d just started that new job when we found out we were having Jaden. And then the apartment building was foreclosed on so we had to move. We lost our deposit and last month’s rent, then had to come up with first, last and deposit all over again. And then I was on bed rest for a month and had to quit my job at the library. And then Andy got rear-ended by that old guy who was trying to keep his dog’s tail out of his face while speeding through an intersection.”

  Evie nodded. She remembered all of those things. But she hadn’t put them together quite the same way. They’d been so thankful that Andy hadn’t been seriously hurt. The car wasn’t such a big deal. They had seemed like they were doing okay. Everyone was safe and healthy.

  “When Jaden was born, I didn’t even have a crib.” Stacey’s voice wavered on the last word and Evie felt her heart contract.

  “I didn’t know it was that tough. I’m so sorry.” She was whispering, shame choking the words.

  Stacey wiped her eyes with one hand. “Don’t be sorry. It was our fault for not asking for help. Everyone thought we were doing okay, two college-educated people starting a family. I was too ashamed to say we couldn’t pay the electric bill.”

  Evie sat back against the bench, watching Jaden zoom down the slide, arms in the air, glee on his face. Shock stole her voice. She’d never even suspected.

  “My mom held the baby shower, and I got a lot of cute outfits for him. But we returned most of the items for cash.”

  “I wish I’d known. I wish you could have told me.”

  “Me, too. Looking back, it seems so silly. Just tell someone you need help. But I couldn’t. I went to the Goodwill to look for a crib and some clothes, but I only had about fifteen dollars and the crib was twenty. It wasn’t even that important. We had a little basket we lined with blankets. It was just that we were living on the edge, financially, and this tiny baby depended on us.” Stacey pressed her lips together but tears slid down her face. “Sorry. I’m feeling hormonal.”