Persuasive Lips (12 page)

“
Not
for
month.
Wish
we
get
de
l
ivery
f
r
om
stork
and
she
stay
home.”
He
p
ushed the
wheelchair
into
the
bathroom.
Fuji
rem
o
ved
Mr.
Roosevelt’s
trousers
and
torturous leg braces.

The
President
smiled.
“Careful
what
you
w
i
sh
for.
Once
that
old
stork
finds
your address,
he
might
b
e
come
a
pest.
He
visited
the
missus
and
me
six
times
in
ten
years
. First a little
girl, then
f
i
ve boys
.”

Claude
Fuji laughed with the President.

* * * * *

Still
high
o
n
adrenaline,
the
first
lady
chang
e
d
into
blue-and-white-striped
pajamas. She
left
h
e
r
bedroom
and
t
o
ok
her
dirty
clothes
to
the
ham
p
er
in
the
hall
closet, dropping
them
on
top.
She
dug
down
and
fis
h
ed
out
her
husband’s
shirt.
It
reeked
of French
perfume
and
the
collar
had
a
scarlet-colored
smudge.
Tucking
it
under
her
arm, she
trotted
downstairs,
straight
to
his
secretar
y
’s
office.
Looking
o
v
er
her
shoulder,
Mrs. Roosevelt
ducked
inside.
She
sat
in
Vera
Blandings’
chair,
rummaging
through
h
e
r desk.
The
first
lady
removed
a
tube
o
f
lipstick
from
the
top
side
drawer.
She straighten
e
d
the
small
stacks
of
papers
i
n
side,
then
hurried
back
to
her
bedroom.
Thank goodness no one saw me.

Eleanor
shut
the
door
and
locked
it.
She
yanked
the
cap
fr
o
m
the
lipstick
and twisted
it
u
p.
Mrs.
Roosevelt
compared
the
color
to
the
smudge
on
her
husband’s
shirt. It
matched.
Her
stomach
churned
as
tears
welled
in
her
eyes.
Not
ag
a
in.
All
the
pain from
1918
came
rushing
back.
That
Lucy
Mercer
had
nearly
ended
their
marriage.
I
will not
stand
for
him
to
be
involved
with
another
secretary.
Eleanor
twisted
the
li
p
stick
back down, replaced
the
cap
and
chucked
it
into
a
wastebasket.
Then
s
he
shoved
his
shirt
in with it. She
stomped it down with her foot.

Eleanor
climbed
in
bed
and
picked
up
the
telephone
receiver
on
her
walnut nightst
a
nd.

The
White
House
o
p
erator
asked,
“Yes
Missus
Roosevelt,
how
may
I
direct
your call?”

* * * * *

Now
past
midnight,
across
t
o
wn
in
A
n
acostia,
the
mournful
winter
wind harmonized horribly with the
o
ff-key singing from down the
hall at the boarding house. Chloe
lay
shivering
in
cold
water,
unaware
how
much
time
had
passed
since
she’d drawn
the
bath.
It
was
her
desperate
attem
p
t
to
wash
the
evil
away.
Succumbing
to
the incessant
pounding
on
the
door,
she
whimper
e
d,
“Orpha,
if
you
and
Shirl
e
y
don’t
stop that wretched caterwauling I’ll vacate the room.”

Chloe
stumbled
out
of
the
tub
onto
the
cold
pink
and
black
floor.
Lavender-scented suds slid down her l
e
gs and pooled on the
f
lower-patterned tile.

“
It’s
Mrs.
Grogan
dear.
Did
your
special
fella
come
t
h
rough
for
ya
tonight?
I
want all the ro
m
antic details.”

Shivering,
Chloe
leaned
over
and
twisted
a
worn
but
bright
white
towel
around
her hair.
She
s
hoved
her
arms
into
an
old
terryc
l
oth
bath
r
obe,
wincing
as
t
h
e
r
ough
fabric abraded her sensitive skin. She pulled the frayed belt tight.

Chloe
jerked
the
chain
on
the
tub
stopper,
r
eleasing
the
dirty
water.
She
sta
r
ed
at the
hundr
e
d
dollar
bill.
Slither
away
and
leave
me
alone.
It
didn’t
heed
h
e
r
will.
She yanked
the
money
o
u
t
and
wadded
it
up
with
all
h
e
r
might,
then
shoved
it
into
the bottom of the wastebasket, underneath the
b
athroom d
i
scards.

“
Chloe?
Can ya hear me darlin’?
Did he pop the questio
n
?
” the landlady asked.

Chloe
kne
l
t
on
the
w
et
tiles,
d
u
nking
her
hands
i
n
to
the
dw
in
dling
water
and flattening
them
on
the
bottom
of
the
tub.
W
ater
pour
e
d
from
her
cuffs
when
she
pulled them back out. The cast iron drainpipe burped as the bathtub emptied.

Twisting
the
crystal
knob,
Chloe
opened
t
h
e
door
and
gagged
at
the
stench
of
burnt eggnog. After switching the l
i
ght off,
she cr
o
ssed the hall to her room.

Mrs.
Grogan
gasped
at
the
sight
o
f
Chloe’s
legs
and
face.
She
followed
Chloe
in
and shut
the
door.
“Oh
my
God
child!
You
were
attacked!
Or
did…did
he
do
t
h
is
to
ya?
I
’
ll go and fetch Doc Morton. Or do ya need to go to the hospital?”

“
No!
Don’t
call
any
o
ne.
You
mustn’t
tell!
Promise,
Mrs.
G?”
Chloe
pleaded,
nearly hysterical.