“Answers,” he replied as he leaned back in the chair behind his desk. “Seems like this country is going to hell in a hand basket and they want to know why. And,” Crader said as he stood up and walked over to the couch, “they also want Dutch.”
“Didn’t he give Birdie his resignation this morning?” LaLa asked him.
“He gave it to him, yes. But it’s not effective immediately. Dutch refused to take it back from Birdie because he still has every intention of resigning. Just not right now. He doesn’t feel he can leave right now, not with this craziness going on.”
LaLa shook her head. “Will that man ever get a break?”
“No,” Crader said as he sat beside his wife. “Dutch has paid his dues. He stayed and guided this country even though his family was nearly destroyed by all kinds of events during his presidency. But they need a steady hand right now. And he’s the steady hand they want.”
LaLa stared at Crader. “How does it make you feel,” she asked him, “that the country prefers Dutch?”
Crader placed his hand on top of hers. “Truth of the matter is, I prefer him too.”
LaLa laughed.
“I’m serious,” Crader said with a smile.
Given the pressures he was under today, not to mention the pressures their marriage was under, LaLa was pleased to see that they were still able to smile.
“Dutch has been president for six years now,” Crader went on. “He’s a known quantity. I’ve only been V.P. for a fraction of his presidency. They’re still getting to know me.”
“But you were a senator before.”
“The state of Florida knew me as their senator, and I was generally known in the country, but I wasn’t exactly a household name or anything like that. But Dutch was a star even before politics, when he was a savvy businessman.”
“Was he a star because of his business acumen, or his bedroom acumen?”
Crader laughed. “Probably both,” he said. “He certainly knew how to, shall we say, entertain the ladies.” Then he looked at LaLa’s dark hand in his light hand. “But the country needs him right now. They need to know that an experienced leader is on the job. Look at all of the panic,” Crader said as he looked up at the flat screen television set on the wall of his office.
LaLa looked too. The sound on the TV was muted, but the scene, of a live MSNBC feed, was horrific. Buildings were destroyed, men, women, and children were running around with smoke dust all over their clothes, confusion on their faces, and pain and heartbreak cloaking them like strait jackets.
“It’s awful,” LaLa said.
“Yeah,” Crader said. “And their government is clueless. This is an awful day, La. I’m pleased Dutch has agreed to come back.” Then he looked at her. “Have you heard from Gina?”
“No. Why?”
“I just thought she might have told you how Dutch was handling all of this.”
“That’s why I didn’t try to phone her yet. This has got to be traumatic for her. The idea that he would have to leave her and Little Walt in New Jersey while he, once again, attended to the needs of the country he so loves. But. . . she has to wonder if he loves the country more than he loves his family.”
“He has a duty to his country,” Crader said. “I’m sure Gina understands that.”
“She does. But. . .”
“But what?”
“But action speaks louder than words to women sometimes, Cray. After his son was kidnapped and his near-heart attack, I thought he was going to leave office then. But he didn’t. And then Gina was gunned down when he was the target and . . . it still took him a month before he decided to resign. And I know it’s not because he doesn’t love her. But she has to wonder sometimes.”
Crader looked at his wife. “Do you think that sometimes, too, La?” he asked her.
“Do I think what?”
“That I don’t love you.”
LaLa felt a pain deep within her heart. “I think you love me.”
“But?”
“But maybe not as much as I had hoped for.”
Crader’s heart dropped. How does he tell this woman that he loves her with all of his heart, and make her believe it? Especially after the way he behaved last night, and again this morning? “I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, La. But there’s no woman out there that I would rather be with. I really pray you can believe that.”
LaLa looked down at his hand. The stress on her face broke Crader’s heart. “Then why were you so quick to want to walk away from our marriage after you found out about Christian? You broke my heart many times, Crader, and you know it. Even when I found out that you had cheated on me and had a child almost the same age as our child, I wasn’t ready to throw away everything we had. I had to think, and I needed some time away from you, but I wasn’t ready to lose you. I loved you too much. But last night, at Dutch and Gina’s, and again this morning, I didn’t see that love. All I saw were accusations, and. . . and even hate in your eyes.”
Tears came to Crader’s eyes. All around him this country was falling apart. Not his marriage too. “I don’t know how to love you, La,” he finally admitted to her.
LaLa looked at him.
“I placed you on such a pedestal that when you showed that you were human, too, I couldn’t handle it.”
“But I had already told you I slept with someone that one time, and how much I regretted that terrible act. And you forgave me, Crader, just as I forgave you. At least I thought you did. And that’s why I wonder about the depth of your love for me sometimes. It doesn’t seem deep enough.”
Knocks were heard on his door. And then it was opened by Allison Shearer, the president’s chief of staff. “Excuse me, Mr. Vice President, but the president and his family has arrived.”
Both Crader and LaLa looked at Allison. “His family?” Crader asked.
“Gina and Little Walt are with him?” asked LaLa.
“Yes, they’re both with him.”
They hadn’t expected that. “Thank-you, Ally,” Crader said and Allison left, closing the door behind her.
LaLa looked at Crader. “Gina came?”
“I’m sure she didn’t want to. But think about it, La. Can you imagine Dutch Harber leaving his family in one state while he was in another one? Especially at such an uncertain time like this?”
LaLa nodded. “That’s a point,” she said.
But instead of getting up and hurrying to the Oval office, Crader had to make sure LaLa understood one thing. He moved to the edge of the couch and turned toward her. He held her hand with both of his.
“It’s deep, La,” he said. “I don’t show it the way I should, but my love for you is very deep. Am I still attracted to other women? Yes, I am. Am I the biggest hypocrite alive for getting angry simply because you gave me a taste of my own medicine? You’d better believe I am. But that’s not because of you, La. It’s because of me. I’m a mess. You married a very messy man.”
LaLa placed her hand on the side of his handsome face.
“Please, don’t ever question my love for you,” he continued. “It’s not about that ever. I just don’t know how to love you right, La. I haven’t figured that part out yet.” Then he smiled through his tears. “Even at my age,” he said.
LaLa fell into his arms. He was a very complicated mess of a man, that was the truth. He was absolutely right about that.
But he was her mess.
Later that day, Little Walt was on the floor in the middle of the West Sitting Room playing with Crader and LaLa’s baby girl Nicole. Nicole seemed more fascinated in pulling Walt’s curly hair than listening to him explain how his toys worked. But Walt was patient with her, and didn’t get angry when she kept pulling on him.
“She’s just a baby,” he once said to LaLa when she asked him if he liked Nicole’s company.
LaLa was in the room, also. She was seated on the sofa with Gina. Gina had her legs under her butt and they were both watching the television set, waiting for the president to address the nation.
“I wasn’t,” Gina admitted, staring at the television screen.
“Let me guess: you and Dutch had a major blowup about it.”
“Oh, yes.”
LaLa had been Gina’s friend for many years, and was right by her side even before she married Dutch. She was very familiar with their heated arguments and disagreements. “What happened?” she asked.
“He said he wasn’t leaving his family behind, and that I was going whether I liked it or not. I said it was too soon for me to come back here, and that I wasn’t going whether he liked it or not.” Gina hesitated. “Then he began hurrying for Walt’s room.”
“Walt? You mean he was going to take the baby with him?”
Gina nodded. “Yep. And you know I wasn’t going to stand for that. I mean, Dutch is that child’s father and he has every right to take him anywhere he wants to take him, but I couldn’t stand back and let him come back here. I couldn’t do it.”
“So what did you do, G.?”
“I balled up my fist and started hitting him as hard as I could in his back.”
LaLa was astounded. “You hit Dutch?” she asked.
“Yes, I hit him. He wasn’t bringing my baby back here.”
“Did he. . . Did he hit you back?”
“He was going to. He was certainly angry enough to slap me senseless. He even raised his hand at me.”
“Please tell me he didn’t do it. Because I know you, Gina. If any man hit you, even Dutch, that was going to be the end of that relationship.”
“Nonsense!” Gina shot back. “I hit him first, and I hit him repeatedly. I can’t do that and then leave him because he hit me back. He had every right to slap the shit out of me.”
“But he didn’t?” LaLa asked, praying that he didn’t.
“He didn’t,” Gina said, just as relieved as she was. “Thank God. He could have, but he didn’t.”
“So what did he do?”
Gina thought about that scene, and how much it touched her. “He pulled me in his arms,” she said. LaLa smiled. “He held me so long, La, I didn’t think he was going to let me go. But he eventually did. Then he told me he would call me later, and left.”
“He left? Then why did you decide to come?”
“Because I realized I was on the wrong side of the issue. He loved his country and was doing what he had to do to make sure the American people felt a sense of reassurance. That didn’t mean he didn’t love me and Walt. It meant that he had a duty to fulfill. And I knew, as he was walking away from me, that I had to be there with him.” She looked at LaLa. “No matter what.”
“Yeah, but it’s so simple with Dutch. It’s always about principles and duties and obligations. It’s never about women.”
Gina looked at her as if she’d just lost her mind. “Oh, really now?”
LaLa was surprised. “It has been about women?”
“Of course it has, La! Have you looked at my husband lately? He’s a very powerful and desirable man. I worry about these women out here all the time. The only reason my worries haven’t made me crazy is because I trust Dutch. But I don’t trust these hoes out here. I don’t walk around like my husband is some perfect man who never does shit. He’d be doing all kinds of shit if it was up to some of these females. Some of which are right here on his White House staff. Some work for him at Harber Industries. So the temptations are right there for him. But I trust him.”
“But . . . do you think he’s yielded to any of those temptations?”
LaLa must have asked Gina this question a hundred times. And every time, Gina knew, it was because of her doubts about Crader. “I don’t believe he would do that to me,” Gina admitted. “But don’t think that means he hasn’t done it. Or at least thought about it.”
“The way Crader jumped all over Christian, and was acting so crazy when he found out, made me wonder if he was hiding something new from me.”
Gina looked at her. “New? As in a new affair with some woman?”
LaLa nodded. “It makes you wonder. I mean, why would he behave like that last night? He knew I had cheated on him that one time. Why did the fact that it was Christian drive him so crazy?”
“The fact that it was Christian,” Gina said. “The fact that Christian’s young and beautiful and have it going on like that. That’s why. I mean, some people are like that. If you had been fooling around with a man Crader’s age, it would have been different to him.”
“Oh, so if Dutch fooled around with a woman younger than you, it would feel different to you?”
“Hell nall! Her age wouldn’t have made a bit of difference to me. But it does to men like Crader. Cray is, how do I put it? He’s still trying to be a good man. It doesn’t come as naturally for him. He’s older than you, like Dutch is eight years older than me. The idea of some young stud humping on his wife is just too much to bear for some men.”
“Crader’s one of those men then,” LaLa said, pleased that Gina was somebody she could talk so personally to. She was the only one who always seemed to understand.
“That’s daddy,” Little Walt said when Dutch suddenly appeared on the television screen. He was standing behind a lectern in the East Room of the White House, surrounded by a standing room only crowd of journalists. He was ready to address the nation. Crader McKenzie, his arms at his side and his legs spread eagle, stood beside him. Gina and LaLa both looked on.
“That’s my daddy,” Walt said proudly to Baby Nicole, but Baby Nicole wasn’t impressed. She pulled his nose instead.
“Ouch!” he yelled, as his father began his address.
The president spoke calmly about how America was at war with an unknown enemy. He spoke passionately about his promise that he will not rest until each and every one of those cowards were brought to justice. He spoke soothingly about the need for Americans to stand united, and to not panic, and to know that every member of his administration was working overtime to uncover the truth. And then he added these words: “God is still on the throne,” he reminded the listeners. “And I don’t ever want you to forget that.”
And then he took questions.
“Mr. President,” the first journalist asked, “do you believe your resignation caused the kind of instability in the government that those terrorists were able to exploit?”
“I believe these explosions were planned months in advance by people who wanted to cause instability in the country, regardless of who was president.”
“But the timing was curious, sir,” the same reporter added. “Don’t you think the fact that they decided to launch these attacks just when they thought you had submitted your resignation to Speaker Camp is a telling sign?”
The timing of this craziness had crossed Dutch’s mind more than once, also. That was one reason why he was so adamant about Gina and Little Walt coming with him. But he was there now to assure the American people, not to confuse them with even more questions that couldn’t possibly be answered. “I don’t think my resignation had anything to do with it,” he said.
“But how could you say that, sir,” another journalist asked, “when the timing would suggest that these explosions had everything to do with you? Aren’t you personally affronted, sir? These attacks seemed timed to send you a message of great disrespect. These explosions seemed like a send-off message directed at you and you alone, sir. Aren’t you personally concerned about that?”
“I am concerned about the American people. I am here to assure the American people. I don’t give a damn what the motivations of these cowards were. But I will tell you this: I personally will not have a moment’s rest until we track those cowards down like the dogs they are and bring them to justice. That is what I am concerned about. That is what I will spend my every waking moment concerned about. And I ask the American people to put their worries on my shoulders, and do not panic. This country is still great. This world is not goin
g to hell in a hand basket. And God Almighty is still on His throne. Thank-you, America, and God bless you. And God bless the United States of America.”
In Boston, in a dark apartment, Max Brennan was also watching the press conference.
And he was animated.
“Look what happened while you were busy quitting, Dutch “golden boy” Harber. Look at what you did. Look at what a quitter like you caused! Because of you Americans have been plunged into a self-inflicted crisis. Because of you Americans are afraid to leave their homes, and nearly a thousand of them are dead, and even more thousands wounded. All because of you, Dutch Harber.”
Then Max smiled. “Not so golden anymore, are you Dutch? They aren’t going to see you as their little golden boy anymore. Now you’ll forever be seen as a quitter and a failure. Now you’ll be searching the world for Al-Qaeda terrorists, when the enemy is a man who used to be deep in your heart.”
The smiled disappeared.
“I loved you!” Max screamed. “I used to love the ground you walked on! I devoted my life to you ever since we were schoolboys. I loved you! And you tossed me aside as if I never meant a thing to you. How could you do that to me, Dutch? How could you do that to the only person who ever truly loved you?”
Then he calmed back down.
“You must be destroyed, Dutch. You must be. Like you, I will not rest until you are brought to justice. Until you will have your reckoning day.”
And then the tears came, as he watched that handsome face on his television screen, turn and walk away.
It would be long after midnight before Dutch made it to the White House Residence. He was so exhausted that it was by sheer force of will alone that he was able to walk into the master bedroom and up to the master bed. Lying in that bed, fast asleep, were his wife and son. Gina had Little Walt wrapped protectively in her arms.
Dutch’s heart was filled with warmth and dread as he looked down at his family. He began removing his tie, and then his coat, as he thought about all of those questions that were hurled at him today. It was all his fault, the reporters seemed to think. His decision to choose his family over his country caused this craziness, they seemed to believe. And, to his shame, he wasn’t altogether certain if their beliefs were incorrect.
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