“Have I ever told you about the time I met your mother?”
Annie shook her head and wrung her hands in her lap, not looking up at her father. Did she really want to take a stroll down memory lane?
“I met your mother at a cotillion. She was nineteen and being presented that summer and I was asked by a fraternity buddy of mine to escort his sister to the ball. When they called out the name Marjorie Mae Merriman, I remember laughing with my buddies, but when I looked up and saw her, well, I fell instantly in love. She had dark hair and dark eyes—a lot like yours—and she floated down the staircase like an angel. I couldn’t get over to talk to her fast enough. Here I was this big oaf, country boy from Boone, North Carolina, hoping to charm this sophisticated, elegant beauty from Raleigh and well, I fumbled all over myself. Thankfully, I could dance—otherwise, I don’t think she would have given me the time of day.” Her father laughed and had a gleam in his eye the likes of which Annie had never seen before.
“I’ve never heard this story,” she said, turning to look at him.
“Oh, and she was smart. When she told me she was going to Wellesley, I had to ask her where it was. I didn’t know about any college outside of North Carolina. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have gone to college if it weren’t for football. She intimidated me from day one, but I was mesmerized by her. Then, when I found out her granddaddy had started the biggest tobacco company in the U.S., well, you can imagine I was really intimidated.”
“So, how did you two get together?”
“Like I said, we danced all night at the cotillion. I asked her if I could call on her and she said, ‘First you have to ask my daddy.’ You know how scary your Pop could be.”
“I remember him as a big, gruff teddy bear.” Annie laughed and scooted an inch closer to her father.
“Gruff was right. I introduced myself to him that evening and told him I’d like to date his daughter. He started asking me all about my family, my home, what I was majoring in at college. Of course, I didn’t have any answers. I was only there for football. But then he said, ‘Son, I’m impressed that you’d come to ask my permission, but I’m afraid unless you plan to be a doctor or lawyer or senator, you won’t be good enough for my little girl.’”
“Oh, that’s harsh.” Annie leaned her head against the sofa back.
“As soon as the semester started, I changed my major to pre-law and sent her father a letter telling him of my plans to become an attorney and eventually run for office. That December when she was home on winter break, he allowed me to take her on a date. We’ve been together ever since.”
“That’s a great story. It’s not at all what I had expected. I’ve sometimes wondered why she’s stayed with you, to be honest, Dad.”
“I have, too. I’ve spent my whole life trying to live up to her father’s expectations, to be worthy of a woman as wonderful as your mother. Along the way, I’ve made a lot of mistakes. But, you know what?”
“What?”
“With everything we’ve been through, we still love each other and your mother has an amazing ability to forgive. And I thank God every day she does, because I don’t know where I’d be without her.”
Annie chewed on her bottom lip and looked down at her lap. This was the first time she and her father had ever had a heart-to-heart talk. He’d always seemed too busy or distracted to share his feeling with her, or ask about her own. She felt tears welling in her eyes as she thought about all the times she would have liked to have had conversations just like this.
“I’m sure your mother hasn’t said anything, but we’ve been in counseling for six months and it’s made all the difference in our marriage. We’ve never been happier. In fact, I plan to retire at the end of this term. We want to travel and spend as much time together as possible.”
“Oh, Dad, I had no idea. That’s…that’s wonderful.” Annie pressed a finger to the corner of her eye, catching a wayward tear.
“The point is, Annie bug, none of us is perfect, including you. We all screw up from time to time. If you truly love someone, you need to forgive them when they make a mistake. Same way you’d like to be forgiven when you mess up. If you run at the first sign of trouble, you might miss out on the greatest happiness you’ve ever known.”
“Who are we talking about right now? You and Mom?”
“Yes, but I’m also talking about you and Kip. I saw the way you looked at each other on Sunday. I’ve never seen you like that with anyone. He got lured into what he thought was a good situation, but along the way he lost sight of himself and what’s most important—until he met you. It was because of you he decided against the bill, even at the risk of losing respect from his colleagues.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“He did. Meeting you changed everything. He couldn’t go through with the original plan because he fell in love with you.”
“He said that?” Annie sat erect as a tingle of hope surged through her body.
“He did. Now, don’t take my word for it. If we hurry up, you can hear it for yourself.”
Twenty-Seven
“I’d like to thank my colleague from Delaware, Congressman McVey, and my colleague from Pennsylvania, Congresswoman Blake, for their work on this bill. Mister Speaker, this bill would expand the already over-burdened East Coast oil pipeline by getting much needed resources to consumers more efficiently and at a lower cost. Until two months ago, I was proud to sponsor the pipeline expansion bill and was enthusiastic about the economic benefits it would yield both nationally and in my small Maryland district along the shores of the Chesapeake Bay. All the research I’d received proved this would be an essential piece of America’s energy independence.” Kip took a deep breath as he gripped either side of the podium and let his eyes scan the House chamber. He looked back down at the crisp white pages of his prepared speech and released an audible sigh before he flipped the sheets face down. He cleared his throat and slid his hands deep into his trouser pockets.
“The truth is, ladies and gentlemen, this pipeline may very well help our oil distribution, but at what cost? In recent days, several wise, insightful people brought to my attention the potential risks of building the pipeline in such a delicate ecosystem. The truth is the risks far outweigh the benefits. Did you know the Chesapeake Bay supports over twenty-five hundred species of fish and animals and produces over five hundred million pounds of seafood each year? The approximate three hundred thousand acres of tidal wetlands provide critical habitat for fish, birds, and other species. We could never measure the enormity of damage a pipeline break could cause. And what about the economic risk? For generations men and women have been making their living from the Bay’s bounty. Recreational fishing, hunting, and boating attract millions of visitors each year. Even a small spill could devastate the economy in several states.” Once again Kip let his eyes search the members sitting with rapt attention. He noticed confusion on some faces and anger on others. He leaned an elbow on the podium and continued.
“I see the confusion on some of your faces. I’d be confused, too, if I were you. Many of you have listened to my plea for this bill’s passage, sat with me in committee meetings, or had private discussions about the importance of this bill. In actuality, the only thing I’ve been focused on was money and furthering my own career.” A murmur spread through the crowd. Kip could feel his audience’s attention focus on him like a laser.
“I was approached by a very influential, convincing donor who stood to make millions from this project. I foolishly entered into an agreement with an international construction firm to make this pipeline happen and did it with no regard for the people I love and respect in my own district. I allowed the flash of money and the desire to rise within the ranks of Congress to cloud my better judgment. I was sucked into the behind-the-scenes political maneuverings we in Congress are so often criticized for. Did I recognize this as nothing more than a shady business deal that could damage the delicate environment along the Bay? No. All I could se
e was how this pipeline would benefit me. But now I’m announcing my withdrawal of support for the pipeline bill. I’m sure I’m not the only one in this hall who’s been approached with opportunities for financial gain, but I hope to be the last.”
Kip looked up into the visitor’s viewing gallery and surveyed the faces of each representative present. “I implore you to vote against this bill. Tomorrow morning, I will be meeting with state party officials to remove my name from the ballot in November, and I plan to fully cooperate with the Department of Justice’s investigation into campaign corruption. Thank you.”
Kip gathered his stack of papers and walked up the aisle while members talked in hushed whispers among themselves, staring in shock as he passed. He kept his head down, not wanting to make direct eye contact with his soon-to-be former colleagues, many of whom he admired and respected. When he pushed through the double doors, he was assailed by a swarm of press members shoving microphones in his face.
“Congressman Porter, what’s the name of the international construction firm you referred to?”
“Does this mean you’ll be resigning right away or fulfilling your term?”
“How much money were you offered to sponsor this bill?”
Kip pushed through the crowd and walked briskly down the hall to the nearest elevator. Once the doors closed, he found himself alone and he collapsed in the corner as a sheen of sweat formed on his brow. His solitude quickly ended when the doors opened into the hallway that led to his office. Thankfully, the corridors were mostly empty and those who passed him only nodded hello. Word of his speech hadn’t yet reached the upper floors of the capitol building.
“Contact the major news outlets and let them know I’ll be holding a press conference in an hour here in the conference room,” Kip barked as he rushed past his assistant’s desk and into the quiet sanctuary of his office. The room was dark; all the blinds were flipped closed. When Kip hit the light switch, he jumped in surprise. Annie was sitting behind his desk with her feet propped up on the corner.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. Her shapely legs were perched on the desk and he couldn’t help but follow them from her ankles to her thighs, dreaming of what lay above and between.
“I was just reading an interesting article about sporting injuries,” Anne said as she tapped her toe in mid-air. She kept her eyes on a magazine in her lap, but Kip noticed her steal a quick glance in his direction.
“In People?”
“They have all kinds of articles in here. It says here that one of the world’s most dangerous sports is horseback riding.”
“Horseback riding?” Kip took a tentative step forward and slid into a leather chair across from Annie.
“Yep, it says the higher the horse, the bigger the risks. When you fall,” she said as she dragged her finger across the page, “injuries range in severity from simple bruises to serious concussions and broken bones. Though the most common injury is having the wind knocked out of you.”
“Interesting.”
“Right? I thought so too. Then just this morning, that very same thing happened to me.” She dropped her legs to the floor and pulled open the bottom drawer, extracting the bottle of Jack Daniel’s. She carried the bottle to the credenza and poured some whiskey into a coffee cup.
“You fell off a horse?” Kip asked.
“Yep, a really high one.” She took a quick sip and then turned to look at Kip. “You look like hell, Porter. You need a drink.” She carried another coffee mug over and handed it to him.
“Thanks, Coach.” Kip reached for the mug and drank it in one shot. “So, you were telling me about this fall.”
“Oh, yeah, so this morning my dad came over and we had a very enlightening talk.” She leaned her hip against the credenza and held the coffee mug close to her lips. “And then I rode into the viewing gallery. That’s when it happened.”
“Didn’t know they allowed horses in the House chamber.”
“New rule: if you are firmly perched on said high horse, you may both enter.”
“Good to know.” Kip walked slowly toward the credenza and sat on the edge, looking deeply into the coffee cup.
“I heard a very brave man give a speech where he admitted his lack of judgment and asked Congress to vote against a bill he sponsored, even though he knew it would cost him his career. He made the right decision to abandon a bill he knew wasn’t good for anyone. It was really inspiring.”
“Inspiring?”
“Yup. So inspiring I fell flat on my ass. And, Porter, it was a long way down.”
Kip took Annie’s cup out of her hand and placed both mugs on the credenza. Then he took her right hand into both of his and studied her delicate fingers and creamy skin. “Did you get hurt?”
“No, but it did jolt me into realizing I’ve been an intolerant, childish bitch who doesn’t deserve for you to even be listening to me right now.”
“Shh, hey now, don’t call yourself that.”
“It’s true.” Annie’s voice clogged with emotion and her eyes were brimming with tears. “I should have listened to your side of the story—your whole side of the story—on Sunday. I said some terrible things to you.”
“Come here; it’s okay.” Kip pulled her against his chest and pressed his lips to her forehead.
“I’m so sorry. From now on I promise I’ll be patient, let you explain yourself, not jump to conclusions. Be more forgiving. I mean it this time.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face against his chest, letting her tears fall. “I love you, Kip,” she mumbled into his necktie.
“What was that?” He leaned back and took her face in his hands, using his thumbs to swipe away the tears.
“I said I love you. Did you mean it when you told me you loved me?” Annie sniffled a few times and focused her watery eyes on Kip.
“Yes, I meant it. I love you, Annie…so much.” He locked his lips against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself into him as his hands raked through the ponytail hanging down her back.
After several minutes of breathless kissing, Kip released her mouth and pulled her ponytail over the front of her shoulder. “What’s this? What did you do to your hair?”
“Oh, I straightened it. You like it?”
“Why?”
“It’s part of the new me—the understanding, flexible, open-minded me.”
“But I liked the old you,” he said, stroking the long, sleek ponytail.
“Really? The old stubborn, unforgiving, self-righteous me?”
“Who called you that?” Kip laughed and covered her face with kisses. “I love the old you, the new you, all of you.” He picked up her hand and led her over to the leather couch where they’d made love for the first time. Annie sat with her back against the arm and draped her legs across Kip’s lap.
“So I would assume if you’re no longer running for office then I’m out of a job,” Annie said.
“Your job as campaign manager will come to an end as soon as you can shut down the office. But as it turns out I have an opening which will run until January.”
“Oh? What kind of position?”“Chief of staff. I asked Tom to resign yesterday morning. Most of the interns will be leaving soon, so I’ll need help in the remaining months as I finish out my term. There’s no one I trust more to help me bring it to a close.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Annie grazed her nails up and down Kip’s jacket sleeve.
“Why? I think it’s a great idea.”
“If my memory serves correctly, it seems like whenever we work together, we end up arguing.”
“Nah, not anymore. I think we’ve worked through every potential problem, don’t you?” He removed her hand from his sleeve and kissed each fingertip. “Besides, if my memory serves me correctly, we have great make-up sex after our fights.”
Annie swung her legs to the floor and then repositioned herself across Kip’s lap, straddling her knees on either side of his legs
. She slowly loosened his tie and opened the top button of his shirt. “Hmm, I’m not sure about this. We might not get much done around this office…you know, being in such close proximity all the time.”
“Come on, what are you afraid of? Be my chief of staff.”
“Is that all?”
“My right-hand, my confidante.”
“And,” she whispered against his ear.
“My girlfriend, my love.”
“That’s what I was hoping to hear.” Annie ran her tongue around the rim of his ear.
“My best friend, my sweetheart.”
“Mm, that’s nice.” She pecked kisses from his temple to his lips, where she hesitated a moment and said, “Whatever you call me is okay with me, as long as I can call you mine.”
“Deal.”
Epilogue
The warm sunshine and cloudless sky made the March afternoon feel more like May. Kip pulled his hoodie over his head and draped it over the wood piling, smiling with satisfaction at his latest purchase. Bobbing lightly in the water was a mint condition twenty-foot white cabin cruiser—something he’d been saving for most of his life. Since leaving office he’d promised himself he would spend more time out on the water—no more weekends holed up in an office studying pending legislation. These days he worked long hours Monday through Friday, but his weekends were reserved for time with Annie. In February he had become the new executive director of the Friends of the Bay Foundation and had moved permanently into his riverside cabin. Annie seemed happy in her new job at an Annapolis non-profit firm. His life was nearly perfect, but there was one thing he knew would make it absolutely perfect.
He looked up when he heard the crunch of tires on the gravel driveway and took off running down the pier to meet the silver convertible. As soon as Annie stepped out of the car, he lifted her into a tight hug and spun her around, then pulled her in for a long, overdue kiss.
“You’re never leaving me again. You got that?” Kip said.
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