The Peace Maker

Home > Other > The Peace Maker > Page 14
The Peace Maker Page 14

by Michele Chynoweth


  Over Chicken Marsala and a bottle of red wine, of which Chessa noticed her husband only had two glasses, Darren asked Amy how she liked her new job at the Times and about the stories she was working on.

  “Well, we’re keeping an eye on you, you know,” she said, looking squarely at Darren with a wary smile. “But I’m not covering politics. Right now I’m relegated to some boring stuff about the economy and the environment. Nothing too glamorous, I’m afraid.”

  “I may have a lead for you,” Darren said nonchalantly. Chessa looked at her husband curiously, not noticing her friend’s knowing glance. “I’m scheduled tomorrow morning to visit this really cool place called Safe Horizon. Channel Two News wants to do a piece on the work they do there, the fact that they’re celebrating their twenty-five-year anniversary of serving our fair city, all the good work they do there, etcetera. Oh, and something about potential First Lady Chessa Richards being one of the staff members there.”

  “Darren!” Chessa stared at her husband in disbelief. “Why am I just hearing about this now?”

  “Because I knew you’d try to get out of it. But I didn’t want you to be blindsided either. It’s part of the reason I called Amy down.”

  Chessa turned to Amy. “You knew about this and didn’t say anything?”

  Amy looked at her sheepishly. “Sorry, but I was sworn to secrecy. Don’t worry—the story is mainly about the place, not you.”

  “Oh, well that makes me feel better,” Chessa said sarcastically.

  “Seriously, Safe Horizon deserves a story for all the people they help, so just be glad you’re part of that,” Amy said.

  “Exactly,” Darren agreed, and high-fived Amy across the table.

  “You two are actually teaming up against me!” Chessa feigned indignation, but inside she felt confused. She wasn’t sure if this strange alliance was a good thing or a bad thing.

  “Surprise!” they both yelled in unison.

  “You got me.” Chessa did her best to put on a show of humility and delight that her husband and best friend had successfully schemed to surprise her and laud her at work on the news. But she was still suspicious. Something’s not quite right, she thought. I just can’t put my finger on it.

  CHAPTER 10

  Leif

  Leif was finishing packing his suitcase to take with him when he heard a knock on the front door of the governor’s mansion.

  Jordan Greene stood on the porch grinning. Leif opened the door and welcomed his brother-in-law into his home, punching him on the shoulder, then giving him a bear hug.

  Everything had been arranged. Leif was scheduled to fly to Israel the next day on the US peace mission the president himself had ordained, while Jordan would bring his sister Wendy back to DC to live in the White House while her husband was away.

  Jordan had flown down to Capital City Airport in Frankfort in one of the White House’s private jets. He planned to spend the night at the governor’s mansion and then fly back the next day with his sister.

  But Leif noticed Jordan’s smile quickly fade into a frown.

  “Where’s my sister? Is she home?” Jordan looked a bit nervous, standing uncomfortably in the large foyer, his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.

  “She’s upstairs in bed, actually.”

  “That’s odd. It’s only seven o’clock. I figured you’d just be finishing dinner.”

  “She wasn’t feeling well today, some kind of stomach bug or something. She might be sleeping, but I can go wake her—”

  “No!” Jordan whispered emphatically. “No, I need to talk to you alone.”

  “All right, we can go to the study.”

  Jordan followed Leif through the elaborate dining room and hallway into the more conservative but still lavish study. He let out a soft whistle. “Well, it certainly pays to be governor, huh? Maybe I decided prematurely against going into politics.”

  Leif turned around, his brows raised quizzically.

  “I’m just kidding.” Jordan smiled his boyish grin.

  “Trust me—it doesn’t pay, and if I had my way, we’d get rid of half this stuff and donate it to the poor, but you know your sister—she loves it all.” Leif motioned for Jordan to have a seat. They sat in two overstuffed chairs, their heads bent forward across the coffee table so they didn’t have to raise their voices and risk waking Wendy. “So what’s up? Better make it quick, I have a long flight tomorrow, you know.”

  “You probably won’t want to go to Israel after all when I tell you what I know.”

  “I thought you looked troubled by something. But it can’t be big enough for me to cancel my trip.”

  “That’s what you think.” Jordan proceeded to tell Leif that he had talked to his father shortly before flying down to Frankfort.

  “I was headed over to talk to dad about getting the private jet when I overheard him talking to one of his advisors about lining up the trip for you.” Jordan proceeded to tell Leif that as he listened through the partially opened doorway to the Oval Office, he heard his father request the man’s confidence, then say that making a big effort to try to strike a peace accord was worth the risk that his son-in-law might get caught in crossfire between Israeli nationalists and Islamic extremists. His father then told the advisor that he hoped his “egotistical son-in-law” would fail so he, the president, could step in and save the day. “In fact,” he’d heard his father say in a hushed tone, “I hope he doesn’t come back at all, because I’m already tired of that show-off know-it-all stealing my glory all of the time.”

  Jordan told Leif how he had angrily walked into his father’s office and confronted him. With equal ire, Martin Greene lashed out at his son for speaking to him disrespectfully in front of an underling about personal affairs. Once the aide was out of earshot, Jordan pleaded with his father to reconsider sending Leif on the mission.

  Martin listened impatiently as Jordan recounted how Leif had carried out the Republican Party’s wishes, beating the prizefighter to become governor and then pledging his support to the administration. Martin argued that they were not his wishes so much as those of Ray Silas, and that Leif had embarrassed him more than supported him by showing him up time and again.

  Jordan switched tactics and begged his father not to put Leif in harm’s way—for the family’s sake, for his sister’s sake. After about an hour of listening to his begging and pleading, Martin explained to his son that to cancel the trip would bring public humiliation not only to himself and Leif but to the United States, since the Israeli Prime Minister was expecting him. But, Martin assured his son, he would at least make sure his son-in-law was surrounded by extra military guards to ensure his safety.

  Although it greatly pained him to do so, Jordan relayed the whole conversation to his friend, who intently listened to him from across the ornate cherry coffee table.

  “I’m sure he was just placating me with the safety assurance pledge. He really wants you off his radar screen. I just don’t understand why my father is so insanely jealous of you. I’m sorry it’s reduced him to being so mean-spirited as to plan something this awful. He is so worried about the upcoming election and his low popularity ratings that he blames you for everything and has made you his scapegoat. Personally, I think he’s totally lost his mind. I’m certain once he finds out I’ve warned you, he’ll probably disinherit me or send me off too, probably to Siberia. He does have more power than people think. But I figured it was worth the risk to keep you out of harm’s way. I care too much about you to see anything bad happen to you.”

  “Thank you,” Leif said. He cast his eyes down at his hands for several moments, lost in thought, and then looked back up at Jordan. “But I’m still going.”

  “Didn’t you hear what I just said? My father is setting you up. You might get hurt, or worse yet, killed over there!”

  “It’s a chance I’ll have to take. While I don’t approve of your father’s means, I believe in the end result we’re after, which is to help bring peace be
tween Israel and the Middle East. I have prayed about this every day since your father asked me to go, and I believe God is calling me to do this.”

  Jordan just sat and looked at Leif wordlessly as seconds and then minutes ticked by on the big grandfather clock in the corner of the room. “Well, I guess you better get packing then.” The two men stood and embraced. “Please be careful and come back home.” Jordan mustered a brave smile.

  “Don’t worry, I will. And keep an eye on my wife for me.”

  “That’s a tough assignment, but I’ll try.” The two laughed and bid each other good night. Leif made sure Jordan was comfortable in a spare room, then headed upstairs to be with his wife. The morning would come soon.

  Although there were almost as many servants tending to her every need at the governor’s mansion as there had been at the White House, Wendy was still happy to be back home with her parents, who seemed to dote on her and pamper her even more than before she had left.

  Still, she had come down with a nasty stomach flu that kept her in bed for a few days immediately after she arrived. After two weeks of constant morning sickness, however, she knew it wasn’t the flu she had contracted.

  Wendy entered her father’s study, where her parents were both seated, awaiting her arrival. She had asked ahead of time to have a talk with them, so they sat expectantly watching as she stood before them. She got right to the point.

  “Mom, Dad, I’m pregnant again.”

  Her mother immediately sprang up and gave her daughter a hug. “Oh, Wendy, that’s wonderful news! You hear that, Martin, we’re going to be grandparents!” She suddenly faced Wendy with concern. “Are you all right? Have you seen a doctor?”

  “I’ve been a little sick, as you know, but haven’t seen a doctor yet. I just took the home pregnancy test a few days ago. I was hoping you could go to the doctor with me since Leif is overseas.”

  “Of course I will.”

  “I’m sad I won’t be able to tell him the news in person,” Wendy said hesitantly, glancing at her father. “And I’m a little nervous, I guess. I waited more or less the time period the doctor said to wait to get pregnant again. We actually weren’t trying; it just happened. I’m not really sure how Leif will take it.”

  “I’m sure Leif will be happy,” her mother said, smiling. “We’ll have to bring him home soon, right, Martin?”

  Martin sat through the entire discussion just staring beyond his wife and daughter, as if not seeing or hearing either one of them.

  “Martin?”

  Martin Greene spoke to his wife in a low, even voice that seethed with an underlying rage. “If that man really cared about our daughter, he wouldn’t have let this happen. He would have taken precautions.”

  “But I want a baby, Daddy!” Wendy’s voice rose an octave.

  “I’m sure they both want to start a family,” Carol said to Martin as she soothed her daughter with a hug. “Come on, Wendy, you should go rest. I’ll fix you some chamomile tea.” She looked back at her husband, still seated at his desk, as she was walking out of the study behind Wendy. “Martin, you’re being irrational. Everything will be fine. Wendy needs to stay calm, so please try to stay positive about this.”

  Martin didn’t answer but continued to stare, his face a stone mask.

  Wendy’s announcement couldn’t have come at a worse time. Leif received the call from his wife about her pregnancy in the middle of a celebration dinner with Israeli Prime Minister Abel Rozen, his wife, and his daughter. As politely as he could, he excused himself and took the call from Wendy on his cell phone. He tried to reflect joy and excitement in his voice although it came out strained. After all, he was under an extreme amount of pressure to smooth American-Israeli relations, which meant constantly having his charm and diplomacy on cue. And it was rude to leave his guests in the middle of a meal, especially according to their customs.

  He returned to the table and was faced with concerned looks from the women and a frown of annoyance from his host. “Everything is okay.” Leif didn’t want to lie, but also didn’t feel it appropriate to tell virtual strangers about the pregnancy, especially so early on when the last one had ended badly. “It was my wife, who isn’t feeling well and just wanted to hear my voice. I’m sorry for the interruption, but I haven’t spoken with her in days. I do hope you understand.”

  They all nodded their understanding and the conversation resumed.

  Leif was asked to escort Leah Rozen, the prime minister’s daughter, back to her hotel in Tel Aviv that evening. She had been visiting her parents on a break from England’s Cambridge University. Leah had stayed with them at home for several days, but needed to fly out early from Ben Gurion International to return to school, and had decided to stay close to the airport the night before.

  “Would you like me to get a limousine or taxi?” Leif held the door of the restaurant open for his pretty young ward.

  “Oh, can we walk? It’s such a beautiful night!” Leah looked up at him with childlike anticipation.

  “I think it’s about two miles. Are you sure you don’t mind walking that far?”

  “Not at all since I’ve got you for a bodyguard.” She flirtatiously batted her long eyelashes at Leif, gazing at him with big almond-shaped honey-brown eyes.

  Leif grinned. “Okay, let’s go.” Always the gentleman, Leif offered her his arm and they were off. There was a full moon that lit up the night and they walked along the busy streets of Tel Aviv, which had quieted some with the nightfall.

  “So tell me about your wife, is she going to be okay?” Leah was youthfully inquisitive and guilelessly outgoing.

  “She’s pregnant.”

  Leah slowed her pace a bit. “Oh, I see.” She looked up at him with her golden brown eyes. “Well I hope then that the baby is alright and you both will be happy.”

  Leif frowned. “I hope so too. My wife Wendy had a miscarriage last time. I don’t know if she could handle another one.”

  Leah stopped walking and stood still so Leif stopped too. She reached up, putting her arms around his neck, and gave him a big hug then a kiss on his cheek. “I’m so sorry. I will pray everything goes well for you this time. I just know you are a special man, Leif Mitchell. Your wife is a lucky woman.”

  Upon Leah’s suggestion, the two had after dinner drinks in the hotel bar where they talked about Leif’s “Peace” concert he had given two days earlier to a crowd of Americans, Israelis, and even some Muslims who had gathered in an ancient outdoor stadium, leaving their battles behind for a few hours to hear the popular country-rock star play.

  Leif had written a song just for the event, which would play on airwaves around the world. When he sang the refrain, the whole crowd sang out that cool, clear night:

  “If you believe that one God created us all,

  and we’re His children under one sky,

  then lay down your arms and open them wide—

  come on, live, you don’t want to die,

  let them live, they don’t want to die.”

  News stations had covered the concert globally and in less than twenty-four hours the event and the hit song went viral on the Internet. There was widespread talk immediately by political pundits that the success of the concert symbolized an anticipated positive outcome of Leif’s mission. Some predicted that it could be the start of peace in the Middle East if everyone could carry the goodwill generated that night forward and rally behind their kings, presidents, and prime ministers.

  No details were released but the media reported that talks of a prospective peace conference were being hinted at once again thanks to the concert and Leif’s successful meetings with Prime Minister Rozen and several other Palestinian and Muslim leaders. At the core of any potential peace would be an agreement in which the borders between Israel and its neighboring countries would become permanent, and these borders would be supported and secured by both sides, allowing peaceful crossings by all citizens like those between the US and Canada. Leif had purportedly engage
d the respective leaders to at least consider such a possibility.

  Martin sat across his desk from his daughter Wendy in the Oval Office. He had summoned her alone while Carol was out visiting her sister, who had just discovered she had cancer.

  “How did Leif react to the news?” Martin got right to the point, his voice was terse like that of an interrogator. “What did he say when he found out you’re pregnant again already?”

  Wendy’s voice was tinged with annoyance. “Well, he didn’t say much. I guess he was busy entertaining this dignitary and his family over there and he was impatient to get back to his dinner. To be honest, I was really disappointed in his reaction. I know he’s busy with all of these political maneuverings and world peace and such, but still, this is his child, Dad.”

  “Which is why it’s so hard to tell you what I’m about to tell you.” Martin’s expression was grim. He held up a manila envelope in his right hand and got right to the point. “I didn’t want to show you these, but you need to know the truth about this man you call your husband and now the father of your child.” His last few words dripped with sardonic contempt. “This is the man who claims to love you. It sickens me because I love you and never want to see you hurt. But you need to know the truth. I am so angry I can’t see straight. If Leif were here, I’d strangle him to death. How dare he get you pregnant, then go off and…” He let his words trail off for effect.

  “Off and what, Dad? You’re scaring me. What?” Her voice was shrill, panicked with fear.

  “I’m sorry, Wendy. Here, look for yourself.” The president slid the envelope across the desk toward his daughter. “I don’t know how to tell you this other than to come right out and say it. Your husband has been caught cheating.”

  He waited for the last word to land on his daughter’s ears as she opened the envelope and sat staring at the top photo amid the stack. He watched her expression change the way a storm gathers and grows into a hurricane, from wonder to shock to anger to rage. She started flipping through the photos—slowly at first, then faster in her fury.

 

‹ Prev