Rogue Affair

by Tamsen Parker

  “No. Thank you.” He stood and headed to the door before he did anything worse.

  “I’ll walk you out,” she said. “To make sure they know it’s not bad.”

  Adam nodded but watched Tam as she methodically prepared to leave the conference room. She was nervous; it was as if every single move had to be perfect, and he wondered what about them being together in a conference room would make her nervous.

  “You good?” The sound of her voice broke into his thoughts.

  “Yes,” he said. “Fine, thanks.”

  A noise halfway between a sigh and a groan emanated from her mouth. “Whatever,” she said as she shook her head. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  The moment was over, and he was on his way out of the office, only to try and convince the PM to endorse his crazy mission.

  4

  After Adam left, Tamara headed to the Senator’s office and knocked on the door, her nerves all over the place.

  What the hell was she doing?

  What made her think it was a good idea to propose a cross-state road trip with an ex who still made her gooey inside? Who she still had feelings for, despite the awful mess that was their past. She was an optimist, that’s why. A stupid optimist who genuinely thought it would be a wonderful idea to teach her stubborn, diplomat of an ex the truth about Western and Central New York in person. Trapped in a car. Together.

  She was going to throw up.

  “Come in.”

  Saved by the sound of her boss’s voice, Tam turned the doorknob and entered his office. The nerves threatened to overwhelm her, even as she desperately attempted to remember this was Enrique’s office. That he’d been her Political Science TA, who’d also been an advisor for Model UN, the county legislator who’d fought for the small community where he was raised. The Senator who’d added her to his staff when he’d needed her research and wanted her perspective.

  “Tamara,” he said, grinning. “Sit down.”

  “Thank you, Senator.”

  He laughed, his brown eyes sparkling back at her. “Enrique,” he scolded. “I expect you’re going to want to talk to Enrique. I think the ‘Senator’ needs to not be in the room to hear what you’re going to tell me.”

  “Okay, Enrique.” She nodded, stressing the name on her tongue. “Yes, I think the Senator is going to balk at what I have to say.”

  “I’m listening because I trust your instincts, Tam.”

  She focused on the blue plastic phone booth sitting on the corner of his bookshelf. And as that wasn’t going to give her any strength, she sighed and went for honesty. “I’m not sure how to explain.”

  “Say it instead.”

  “You were right. They’re using the Dairy Bill as a way to set the tone for a bilateral council.”

  “Set the tone?”

  This was going to be interesting, she thought as she settled into the chair. “The way they’re framing it is that those who sign on to the Dairy Bill will have priority in terms of what the council might discuss.”

  “Oh that’s….” He wrinkled his nose as if he’d suddenly started to smell rotting meat. Which had pretty much been her view of the presentation. Good, they were on the same page.

  “Lovely. So, what are you going to do? Or at least what do you think can be done?”

  She smoothed the lines of her skirt. “It’s going to sound strange. I mean…it’s weird. And it’s a leap, but I think it’s the only thing that can be done.”

  “Considering what’s been coming out of DC since Crosby got into office, whatever you’re going to say is miles less irrational than any of that. I’m listening.”

  A nervous laugh from pushed its way out. “So,” she managed. “I think Ottawa and Toronto are serious about the bilateral council. I definitely think the PM is pushing for it. That said, because they’re incentivizing voting against the subsidies to Central and Western New York, they don’t realize what they’re walking into.”

  “Yeah, and what’s your solution? How do you fix years of focusing on New York as a general thing and turn it to the specific, diverse thing it is?”

  Here was the hard part. “I take Mr. Klein on a road trip. He’ll see Western and Central New York, learn Upstate isn’t a monolith in the same way those of us from Westchester and the rest of downstate did. We tell it like it is, and we show him. So—”

  The Senator considered. “You have three days before you’re off for Rosh Hashanah, right?”

  She nodded, remembered she’d requested the days off to celebrate the Jewish New Year with her family, in conjunction with a week of working in the district office before Yom Kippur. “I do,” she replied cautiously.

  “I’ve got a suggestion for you.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Stop at the Roscoe, maybe then head to Wegmans in Rochester, stop in Syracuse, and then make your way to downtown Buffalo. It would require a pretty good bit of driving. Then spend the night in Buffalo, maybe get him on the ice at the Harbor Center before you head to the district office and he heads wherever he’s heading. Obviously, all expenses you incur should go through JL.”

  She blew out a breath, suddenly less stressed about the situation. “Why are you so calm about this?”

  He shrugged. “You’re right. If we’re going to pursue closer relations with Canada through a bilateral council, then the Canadian Government needs to understand upstate New York. And if anybody is going to get them there, it’ll be you.”

  She nodded. It was true. She was good at her job. But she wondered how the rest of her would survive a road trip with Adam.

  “You’re proposing to take a road trip with the woman you embarrassed on television?”

  The sound of PM Kathy Lee’s laugh was unexpected but welcome. Adam sat on the bed in his hotel room, taking a break from the pacing that was going to destroy the carpet. Once he’d stopped laughing, he managed to speak. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Adam Klein, stop ma’aming me. You are way too experienced in life to be calling me ma’am. If you’re getting the Democratic leader in the State senate to send you across the state with one of his specialists, then we’re working bigger picture here. And as this legislative council is something that I’m very interested in having happen in an era where we can’t count on Washington, this is good to hear.”

  Adam stood and began to pace again. “I think he’ll sign on to the legislative council. He’s not going to sign the legislative package.”

  “From what Carter is telling me, the Governor is going to force the issue on the legislative package. Focus on the council. I’ll notify Toronto, let them know someone in Albany might bite first.”

  “Right. But we won’t know for sure until we hear it from the Senator’s mouth.”

  “He’s not the first, Adam. But he’s the closest to power. Anyway, you have a few days before you’re expected back with your family for the holiday?”

  “Yes, Prime Minister.”

  “Take the trip, and go see your family. When your leave time is over, bring your findings to Ottawa, and we’ll figure out next steps, eh?”

  “Yes, Prime Minister.”

  She laughed. “This is where I say good luck, stick to business, stay impartial, keep your eyes open and enjoy.”

  “Yes, ma…Prime Minister.” As he hung up the phone, Adam wondered what he was getting into, and whether his heart would help, or hurt, his chances with Tam.

  5

  In Tam’s honest, clear and distinct opinion, it was too early to be outside, dressed and ready to drive. But there she was, before the sun was up, holding the cup of weird-tasting coffee Adam had brought her and settling into the driver’s seat of the rental car. She plugged in her phone, turned on the GPS, her favorite playlist started and she headed out.

  Adam had relaxed into the front passenger seat, focused mostly on consuming his gross coffee since they’d gotten onto the highway. That was, until they hit the first of the signs.

  “Why are we going south?”

>   She had forced herself to focus on the road instead of him even though the familiar scent of his cologne wrapped around her. But the sound of even his voice, this early, grated on her. “What?”

  “We’re going south.” He pointed up to the green sign in front of them. “I thought we were going north.”

  She stifled a yawn before answering. “Well we’re stopping at one of the best diners in the state first. It’s pretty much the gateway to Ithaca.”

  “Okay,” he said, as if he’d decided he needed to give her permission. “I’m good with diners first.”

  Tam tried not to shake her head. “What did you think we were doing?”

  There was a long pause, and she wondered if he thought better of answering. “Don’t know,” he finally said. “I don’t know New York State like you do. This is your show.”

  She grinned at him. “I know it is. And you’re driving after breakfast.”

  “Okay, that’s fine. Where are we headed after?”

  She realized she hadn’t explained the path of their journey in full. But she was exhausted, and hadn’t finalized their itinerary until only four hours before they were supposed to leave. All she wanted was coffee that didn’t taste like shit.

  “Rochester,” she managed, stifling another yawn. “Syracuse by lunchtime.”

  “Okay.”

  And that ended the conversation, bringing blessed silence to the car once again.

  “This is amazing, by the way. Thank you.”

  Adam’s voice was serious, heartfelt. The last thing she wanted before good tasting coffee. She didn’t know what to do with that, and after she got off the highway, she realized she still hadn’t answered him. “If international relations get better because of my sacrifice, then I’m good with it.”

  “Sacrifice?”

  “Coffee.” She took advantage of the first traffic light she hit to yawn. “I appreciate the effort, but the stuff was awful.”

  “That’s practically a national insult,” he quipped.

  “Well, it would have been worse if I told you I liked it. I appreciate the gesture, but I need real coffee.”

  He didn’t respond right away, but as she slowly made her way through the local streets, she started to worry that she’d actually hurt him. When the GPS rerouted her for the second time in a five-minute span, she started to get annoyed at herself. The last thing she wanted was to get lost in Roscoe because she was worried about Adam’s feelings.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He’d tried to wipe out the accent, but it was there. That twist that found its way into his language when he was nervous or stressed. But his nerves didn’t mean she had to roll out the red carpet. “It’s fine,” she said. “It’s coffee. It’s not a big deal.”

  “No. It’s more than coffee.”

  “Look.” She didn’t want to hear the words leaving his mouth. Diplomacy could wait until after she was sufficiently caffeinated. There was clearly more to what he was saying but she wasn’t interested in hearing it. “Can we just concentrate on finding this place? The street signs here are horrible.”

  He nodded, but she could tell from even the barest glance that he was struggling with something. She’d just fill herself at breakfast and brace herself for emotional torture during the second leg of their trip. The part when Adam got behind the wheel.

  Adam had questioned why they’d headed south to go north, but after leaving their first stop, his stomach was full and his eyes were open. He could see exactly how this diner was the gateway between what people called ‘upstate’ and ‘downstate’ New York.

  It was perfectly clear why families stopped here on the way to the various universities represented in the diner’s décor. Ithaca, Cornell, and Syracuse were the ones that stuck out in his mind. There was paraphernalia from other SUNY schools and community colleges, and there were few he recognized from a brief advertising campaign when he was considering where to attend University. There was definitely something special about the diner and the way the owners and staff embraced their status as a literal gateway to higher education.

  He smiled. “Thanks for taking me here,” he said.

  “Glad you enjoyed it. Glad you understand.”

  He did. He could see the open road of New York State ahead of him, a vibrant, green place that was getting its feet under it. But now it was his turn to drive. He got into the car and let her settle in as he adjusted the seat, mirrors, and GPS.

  “Music?”

  She shrugged, stared out the window. “You’re driving.”

  He nodded, punched on the satellite, and twisted the dial until he got the station he wanted.

  “This station is down for maintenance. Please join us tomorrow at ten am when our maintenance is over.”

  Foiled by a regular maintenance announcement. He switched the dial to his second choice. Music filled the car as he pulled out of the diner parking lot. The station began to play a song about a couple who’d started to reminisce about their relationship, all because they’d heard ‘their song’ on the radio.

  Guitar and banjo mixed on the tune as he got onto the highway. The trip wasn’t getting any longer, and he was running out of time to say the words that had been tearing at his throat since he’d woken up in the pre-dawn hours.

  But how? It was so much easier to talk when you didn’t expect anybody to answer, and the lead in had gone a great deal better when he’d said it to the mirror in his hotel room. Finally, as he stared at the highway signs, the distance to Syracuse dwindling in front of him, he cleared his throat.

  “So, it’s getting close to Rosh Hashanah, you know?”

  She laughed. “That’s how you’re going to do this?"

  He shrugged as he changed lanes. “It’s a standby. Something we both believe in, the power of forgiveness in a religious context. I may not deserve it, but at the same time, we should at least take the opportunity to have a discussion where I apologize in the sincerest way I can think of.”

  “But you know I have no choice I have to accept your apology and tell you that I forgive you. I mean I don’t have to, but at the same time, this time of year—”

  “This time of year, these holidays mean I have to get my case together. I have to.” He paused as the GPS gave him the next set of directions. “It’s taken me six years to even figure out a way I can start to make it up to you.”

  “You have to reconcile what you’ve done with g-d,” she quipped. “Not me. That’s what this season is about. Not the fact you showed me six years ago you can’t be trusted to be in a consistent and clear relationship.”

  He sped up to match the rest of the cars on the road. There was traffic now, not like before. “I think the reason I started with Rosh Hashanah is that’s maybe the best way I can say I’ve changed a lot over the years. Going to services, working with my buddy Max on ‘Hockey for Hope’, trying to make the world better. I’ve learned…there’s more I can offer the world, than what I thought I was before.”

  “You mean you came to terms with your privileged assholishness?”

  He laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Somewhat.” He paused, thinking as he sped up and changed lanes. “I crashed hard, Tam. And I never told you that.”

  “We all have dreams,” she snarked back at him. “And you got—”

  He shook his head. “No. I…was having a harder time coming to terms with the fact that I wasn’t going to play hockey professionally than I let on, Tam. I knew, my head knew, but my heart didn’t.”

  It took a while for her to answer; it was as if his words hung in the air between them. “You didn’t think this was a thing I should know?”

  He sighed. “I didn’t know how to express it because I didn’t feel like it should be a thing. I was lucky beyond all measure, had so much around me. And yet this one thing. This one thing wasn’t going right. And I couldn’t handle it.”

  He bit his lip as he turned onto the exit, the one that would take them to their next stop, Syracuse. He wondered if he sound
ed like an idiot, wondered what she’d think, how she’d respond. Because she was going to, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be ready when she did.

  6

  Syracuse was gorgeous, filled with evidence of a city on the rise. Tam watched Adam walk around the downtown area, a growing awareness of the enormity of the information she was giving him tugged at her.

  “Thank you,” he said as they headed back to the car. “I mean you don’t have to do this, you didn’t have to. You could have given me a packet and said ‘read it and weep.’ That’s what I deserved, frankly.”

  She shook her head as she turned off the alarm and unlocked the driver’s side door. “No. Diplomacy didn’t deserve that kind of paperwork, not unless you expect it to fail.”

  “I do though.”

  She unlocked the passenger side door as she slid into the driver’s seat and began readjusting. “You’re so tall,” she griped as she moved the seat forward. “It’s a wonder you can move so fast.”

  He laughed. It was a rumble that came up from his stomach. Not a full laugh, more like an aftershock. “It’s the skates, or the shoes, whatever…”

  As he paused, his words broke and hit her. What had possessed her to start a conversation that could go there? Hadn’t they just been talking about his complex feelings related to hockey? Hadn’t she just listened to him admit that they weren’t all good? “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have started a conversation so entirely connected with hockey. I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head, more gallant about it that she probably deserved. “My relationship with hockey is okay now,” he replied, smiling at her, eyes penetrating her skin. “Now that I’ve made peace with the fact I’m not going to make a living at it.”

  She nodded back at him, started the car, and turned on the GPS. “I’m glad to hear that.”

  Those were the words she left behind as she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road towards the highway. She left the station on that he’d chosen; a song by a female singer about being and feeling yourself again hit the airwaves. She let it sooth her and lost herself in it until she had to take the exit and deal with traffic.