Always (25 page)

I sat there with my head in my hands trying to maintain my balance after the body blow of words, and then I stood and headed outside to see if K'ren was all right. I could still hear Leslie ranting in the bathroom. I wanted to compose myself before I saw K'ren because I knew that she'd never heard or seen Leslie like this before. As I walked through the kitchen, I remembered we usually kept treats in the freezer, so I opened the deep freezer in the pantry and retrieved a Mickey Mouse ice cream bar. When I went outside, I saw my niece with a scared look on her face trying to draw hopscotch squares on the Italian marble patio tiles.

I smiled at her and brought the ice cream treat from behind my back. Seeing it, she dropped the large, round, orange piece of chalk and walked toward me. I sat on the lawn chair, and as she took the snack from my hand I saw her eyes were red.

“K'ren?” I said as softly as I could. “Auntie Leslie didn't mean to say that. Okay? She's just not feeling well.”

K'ren shook her head and sat on my thigh as she removed the paper from the ice cream. I wanted to say more, but comforting children was never my strong suit. I didn't even feel comfortable holding babies for photo ops. But then my thoughts went back to the love of my life sitting in a bathroom in our home.

If she had only said that I was wasting my time, I could have brushed it off, but it hurt when she said she didn't love me. So I sat there bouncing my heel with K'ren on my thigh. And then I saw a tear fall down her cheek as she bit into Mickey's chocolate-covered ear and moved her head as if she was listening to unheard music.

After about thirty minutes, K'ren was feeling better, so I left her playing with a dollhouse Herbert had dropped off previously and went back inside the house to continue my vigil for my wife.

Walking up to the bathroom door, I hoped she would have unlocked it, but she hadn't. I could hear her softly snoring inside the bathroom. Although I was still dressed in my suit pants, I allowed my suspenders to fall to my thighs and sat on the floor facing the door, deciding to wait her out as I replayed every word she'd said to me in search of the truth behind them. Was I obsessed with the presidency and did she really believe we had no chance of pulling this off? Was this home, the Senate, and what little wealth we'd accumulated our manifest destiny? But most important, I searched for the truth in the comment she made about the
illusion
of winning the presidency keeping us together. Was our marriage, our life, simply form over substance? Confused, I took off my shoes and socks, rolled the socks in a ball and placed them inside a shoe, massaged the ball of my foot, and determined not to leave until my wife was better.

Unfortunately, due to the long day, I fell asleep. Eventually K'ren came in and woke me up with a kiss on the forehead. I smiled at her and she asked, “What's to eat?”

I went into the kitchen and looked for whatever Kadesha had left us for dinner. As I heated the meat loaf and mashed potatoes, I decided that I should wake Leslie, so I walked down the hall and stood face-to-face with the door before pulling back my fist to knock. Just as I did . . . the door opened.

“Henry,” she said with a weary sigh, and held the basin to balance herself. She could not seem to find the words she searched for. Instead she looked at me. First just my lips and then my eyes, and still she seemed unable to find the words. Her body swayed slightly as she then folded her arms and opened her mouth to speak, but only air came out.

I slowly pulled her close, secured my arms around her, and said, “Leslie, I love you. You scared me. But I know we can make it through this together.” She leaned closer to me and I rubbed her head. “I can truthfully tell you that
tonight there is nothing in this world that you can say”—I pulled back and looked into her fire-red eyes—“there are no words you can come up with . . . to make me stop loving you.”

My bride leaned on me like a two-day-old baby, and I knew I could never let her fall. After that episode we fell deeper in love than we had ever been.

And then there was the trip to Europe.

Washington, D.C.

November 8, 2000

NBS News Studio

2:00
A.M
. EST

“This is Franklin Dunlop on one of the most unusual nights I have reported on or can even remember in recent years. The crowning moment of democracy when America elects her leader for the next four years has been marred with an assassination attempt on the life of its sitting vice president, Ronald Steiner. For more on the story, we swing back out to Chicago and our own Judy Finestein. Judith, what's the latest?”

“Well, Franklin, we can now confirm that the vice president was indeed shot in the melee on the roof of the Four Seasons Hotel. We can confirm that the shot, or shots, I should say, were not fatal and that he is being treated at Lake Shore Memorial Hospital as we speak.”

“Judy, the assassin or assassins—what do we know about them?”

“Well, according to our high-level FBI source, the FBI knew of a possible planned assassination attempt in Chicago hours ago, and they attempted to get the vice president and his family to a more secure setting. Why it was not leaked, and the story in Miami was, I cannot say. Unfortunately the ambush occurred as the vice president and his family were boarding Chopper Two on the roof of the hotel. We can now confirm two FBI casualties whose names are being held pending notification of next of kin. Also, Franklin, one of
the alleged assassins, one Ulysses Ferguson, was shot and killed by a member of the Secret Service.”

“My goodness, Judy. This is indeed an incredible story and it seems to grow more tragic with each report.”

“Yes it is, Frank. They have asked the individuals inside the hotel who were here for the election celebration to leave immediately. They are attempting to seal off the area to conduct as much of an investigation as possible under the circumstances.”

“We can now confirm that Steiner was shot. Were any members of his family or staff wounded during this devastating occurrence?”

“None as far as we know, Frank, only the vice president. I was just informed that he is in critical condition at this time. We will update you on his condition as the news comes to us. Again, according to our sources familiar with the situation, Vice President Ronald Steiner is in critical condition at Lake Shore Memorial, and the severity of his wounds is still unknown.”

“Well, there you have it, America. On the eve of what was expected to possibly be the election of the first African-American president or the first female VP, we have a vice president in critical condition and an election night thrown into chaos. With all of the unusual happenings, we still must elect the next man to lead our country.”

DAVIS	195
STEINER	220
BALDWIN	126

Fountainebleau Hotel

Suite 1717

Myles sat in front of the television, switching the coverage from Chicago. “Where's Penelope?” he asked his sister.

“She's down in Henry's room. They paged her for a meeting or something.”

“So,” he asked as he tossed grapes into his mouth, “do you guys know the Steiners?”

“Yeah, we've known them since we came to town in eighty-four. Ron and Sandy were one of the few Republican couples we socialized with. This was before he became vice president, of course. When they were in the Senate, his daughter was dating this black guy who played for the Orioles, and rumor had it that Ron went ballistic. I don't know what happened, but one thing led to another and they broke up. I don't think Ron and Sandy are racist or anything, but if a photo of his daughter with a big-money, fast-living, nose-ring-wearing baseball player was taken, let's just say it wouldn't play well in Peoria.”

“Umm. So Ron's a pretty nice guy otherwise?”

“Ronald? Yeah, he's nice. As nice as you can be in politics, I guess. In fact, when Ron was in the Senate he pulled Henry aside and told him he'd heard some very positive things about him. That's not something a senior Republican senator from the North says to a first-term Southern Democrat. Ron was the first person to mention to Henry that he might want to seriously consider running for the presidency one day. I'm sure he just never imagined the future would come so fast.”

“It's a sick world we live in. Steiner's people paid to have those protesters interrupt your rally and tried to embarrass Henry publicly, yet you don't seem to be angry with him.”

“You can't hold grudges. Hell, we always hear about Republican dirty tricks. I can't swear that the Democratic party has not done the same thing to them.” Leslie rubbed her eyebrow slowly. “This is a blood sport. It's just like basketball or football. You give it a hundred and ten percent for the entire game and when the whistle blows, it's over. When the election is done you kiss, do lunch, and cosponsor a bill or something. If you can't think like that in D.C, you won't make it there very long. I just pray . . . he lives.”

LESLIE

In 1995 I received a phone call in the month of July I will never forget. I remember it was July because it was a few
weeks before our anniversary and three months after my change. You know, into old ladydom. I was watching a movie in the middle of the day, which is something I rarely do, even on the weekends. It was my favorite movie of all time,
Sleepless in Seattle
, and as always, I was crying a little bit toward the end. But this time it was not because of Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan meeting and holding hands. It was because of me and Teddy. Let me explain. All my adult life I wanted to have a baby, and even after the doctor said we had no chance of that happening, I held out hope that one day we would. I always thought it would happen on Valentine's night or one of our birthdays or even our anniversary. I know it was a fruitless dream, but I allowed myself to fantasize every now and then. Now this was the first time that it was not even a
remote
possibility.

I also cried because I missed Teddy. People think that when you live your lives apart this much, you grow accustomed to not having the person you love around. I never got used to it. I turned to alcohol after the change and one day said a lot of things to him I should never have said. I didn't really believe any of them, but even after being together as many years as we had, I guess I wanted reassurance that the man cared. I knew he loved me, but I didn't know if he genuinely cared. After my rantings and ravings, he spent more time with me for a week or so, but soon he had to go back to D.C. In the middle of my crying jag the phone rang. It was my Henry bear.

“Hey, hon, how are you?”

“Fine now,” I said, and dried my puffy eyes with the back of my hand. “Are you still in Virginia?”

“No, actually I'll be home in a couple of hours. We couldn't land in Miami so I'm just outside of Lauderdale.”

I sat up straight. “Really?”

“Yeah, but I guess I should tell you that I have a meeting with a couple of other senators at Camp David in a few weeks.”