Valentine Vote (6 page)

Courtney wanted to crawl under the nearest table. A punch to her elbow signified that Helen was on board. She whispered in Courtney's ear. “I'll prop you up if you get woozy.”

“You're woozier than me,” Courtney said.

“Yeah, but I'm not in
lurve
.”

“Neither am I,” Courtney said, though her heart wasn't cooperating. She could hear it beating in her ears. And her knees wobbled. She took a swig of champagne and watched Eric bound up to the podium. She hadn't had time to properly admire his wardrobe at the Mayflower, but he looked gorgeous in his navy wool suit, light blue shirt, and maroon and blue striped tie. She took a deep breath and blew it out through puffed cheeks.

“Good evening, and thank you, Rebecca, for the wonderful work you do every day for Special Olympics.” Courtney froze when he made eye contact with her. He cleared his throat and continued to look directly at her. “In spite of people in this room who are on opposite sides of issues, I think we can all agree that the Special Olympics knows no dissension.”

Duly noted, Courtney rubbed the back of her hand, like she'd been swatted with a ruler by a nun in parochial school. She knew Eric was right. She'd never have had such an outburst with anyone else. He was entitled to his opinion, but what galled her was that if he was so philanthropic and cognizant of the underdog, why couldn't he see that the only good tobacco was a shriveled crop? She couldn't stay here and listen to this. She turned to Helen. “I'm leaving.”

“No, you can't. That would be over-the-top rude to leave in the middle of his speech.”

“I know. It's rude and cowardly, and I'm doing it.” She hurried out of the room and back through the main bar, where the sound system piped out a Linda Ronstadt tune, “Somewhere Out There.” Her mom had loved that song. Courtney's eyes welled with tears as she tore out of the bar.

• • •

Following his remarks from the podium, Eric searched the room for Courtney. He approached the woman he'd seen her standing with. “Hi,” he said, “did Courtney leave?”

“Hi, yourself. I'm Court's roommate, Helen.” She held out her hand, and Eric shook it. “She, uh, wasn't feeling well. She just left.”

“Sure it didn't have something to do with me?”

“Now why would you think that?” Helen looked at Eric, but she didn't maintain eye contact. She scanned the room and then returned to his face. “Don't give up on her.”

Eric ran a hand through his hair and kept it at the back of his neck. “I wasn't planning to, but she's not making it easy.” He dropped his hand.

“I don't want to talk out of school here, but from what she's told me, you seem to be a good guy. She deserves a good guy.” Helen put her hand on Eric's sleeve. “It probably seems like she's sabotaging things, but she doesn't really want to.”

“I've never met anyone like her.”

“Yeah, that's our Court. She's an original.” Helen sipped her champagne.

“Anytime we broach the subject of tobacco, she gets so emotional that we can't talk rationally about it.” Eric shook his head.

Helen gave him a considering look, as if deciding something, then leaned close. “Look, don't tell her I told you any of this, but when her mom died, she was heavy into school, and she didn't let herself grieve. Now, her job focus is a constant reminder that her mother died from cigarettes. So, she's finally working through all that repressed sorrow.” Helen's eyes narrowed like she was sizing him up. “Want some advice?”

“I'd love some.”

“You really want to get through to Court? Show her who you really are. You're into the environment, right? Take her to a landfill.”

Eric's eyebrows climbed in confusion.

“Okay, no, I'm just kidding,” Helen chuckled. “But take her somewhere away from this D.C. frenzy, where she won't be tempted to talk politics. If you can open up to her, maybe she can finally open up to you.” She winked. “In more ways than one, if you get my drift.”

From his mood of discouragement, Eric emerged with new resolve. Helen was right, and he'd been an idiot not to be more considerate of Courtney's grief. He couldn't wait to make it up to her.

Saturday morning, Courtney watched for Eric through the skinny window that bordered her front door. When his car pulled up to her curb—double parking of course, since you could never find a spot on the street in Foggy Bottom—the flutters in her stomach floated all the way to her heart.

While the weather had been abysmal most of the winter, today's expected high was mid-60s, boding well for a picnic and tour of the Manassas Battlefield with Travis, Eric's Little Brother. Eric had told her he spent one weekend a month with Travis, and she was thrilled to be involved in today's outing. This could be a good opportunity to put her crusade aside and just have a good time, if she could keep her mouth shut about tobacco … for once.

When she'd told Helen about the upcoming excursion, her friend had grinned like the happy Buddha statue that sat in a potted plant on her windowsill. Helen had spent an evening with Courtney extolling Eric's virtues, and her persuasive powers (she wasn't a litigator for nothing) had convinced Courtney that he probably was a great guy.

Courtney had packed a picnic lunch. “I brought enough to feed an elephant, but I know how boys can eat,” she said, sliding into the passenger seat. Eric set the picnic basket in the backseat.

“Travis is small for his age, but he can pack it away. And then there's me.” Eric smiled.

God, Helen was right; he was yummy. When he smiled, the air around him vibrated with sheer pleasure. “And with the chill in the air, I think that makes everyone hungrier. I've got a thermos of hot chocolate, too.”

Before they reached McLean to pick up Travis, Eric told Courtney about the little boy he'd been mentoring for two years. “He's shy, but there are a few subjects he'll open up about, like puppies and basketball.”

“Too bad you couldn't bring Pinky,” Courtney said.

“Oh, he loves her. He's spending the weekend at my place, so he'll get plenty of her.”

Could I ever get plenty of you?
Courtney gazed at Eric's strong profile while he drove with his left hand on the wheel and the right resting on the leather seat. She wanted to reach over and intertwine her fingers with his. “When I knew we were going to Manassas, I looked up the battlefield online to see if they had any activities for kids. They participate in the National Park Service's Junior Ranger program. My brothers used to love the Junior Ranger books. You have to complete a number of activities, and then they give you a badge.”

“Travis will enjoy that. He's all about showing me what he can do. At first, he didn't care. He'd been shuffled around to so many places he didn't trust anyone.”

“What happened to his parents?”

“His dad died of a drug overdose, and his mom just dropped him off at the Department of Social Services one day and split town. He's in a decent foster home now, but he doesn't let his heart get attached. I'm the one constant in his life.”

“That's a big responsibility.” Poor little guy. Courtney blinked hard as tears built behind her eyes. She bit her lip to keep them at bay.

“He's special. You'll see.”

• • •

Travis obviously loved Eric. Bounding to the car like he'd been let out of San Quentin, the boy hopped into the backseat and immediately buckled himself in. “See, you didn't have to tell me to use my seatbelt.”

“You've got a good memory, Travis,” Eric said as he pulled away from the modest house on the outskirts of McLean, waving to Travis's foster mom, who stood at the door. “Hope you don't mind that I brought my friend, Courtney. She's been keeping an eye on me, making sure I stay in line.”

Yeah, like she could keep Eric in line.
Courtney turned around in her seat. The smile on the little boy's face could light the National Mall. “Thanks for letting me tag along today, Travis. I've missed being around boys. I have two younger brothers, but I don't see them much anymore.”

“What happened to them?” Travis's smile dissolved, and the corners of his mouth turned down.

Oh, no, I hope I didn't strike a sad chord. Maybe he thinks they're in juvenile detention.
“They grew up.”

“I'm gonna do that someday.” The smile returned, and Travis pounded the back of Eric's car seat. “Hey, did I tell ya that I got an ‘A' on my history test? I'm thinkin' I might grow up to be a senator.”

“That would be super, buddy,” Eric said, putting on his sunglasses. “Just remember that if you decide to go into politics, the most important thing is to represent the people from your district.”

“What's that mean?” Travis asked.

“It means that you have to listen to them, and when you go to Washington, you fight for what they need back home.” He glanced at Courtney over the top of his sunglasses.

She stiffened. “That's right, Travis, although as a senator, you have to be the leader. When the people you're representing are heading in the wrong direction, you have to steer them toward what's best for them.” She felt heat creep up her neck.
Oh, no, I told myself I wasn't going to get all preachy about tobacco. Back off, Court.

Eric cleared his throat. “You can't treat your constituents like children, Travis. You have to trust that they put you in Congress, and you're there to support the causes they believe in.”

“Yes, but you have to look to the future, to what will keep people and the planet healthy. What folks want today may not be the best choices for the future.” Courtney's volume escalated. She'd soon drown out the voice of Carrie Underwood on Eric's radio.
What's wrong with me? Can't I relax?
She took a deep breath. She needed to tape her mouth shut.

“I don't know what you two are talkin' about, but it sounds like somebody's gettin' mad,” Travis said. He looked back and forth between Eric and Courtney.

Courtney stole a glance at Eric. “I'm sorry we got off on this, Travis. We're not mad, but we do have a difference of opinion about something that we both care deeply about.”

“Well, heck, that's life.” Travis, the philosopher, shrugged.

Eric laughed. “You're right, buddy. We can't agree about everything.”

Courtney rolled her shoulders, which she realized were scrunched up under her ears.

Eric reached for her hand and held it on the console between them. “I was hoping this day would be fun for all of us.”

She'd been craving the warmth of his hand, and it didn't disappoint. From the tips of her fingers, the warmth spread up her arm and to her heart. “Me, too, and I promise—no more talk about work. Not today.” Her lips quivered a bit as she smiled. She hoped Eric hadn't noticed, and really, she wasn't sure whether the quiver was from the heat of their discussion or the electricity of his touch.

The rest of the day was picture perfect. Eric and Courtney walked the battlefield, sharing childhood stories, while Travis ran from tree to tree, pretending he was sneaking up on enemy troops. They all participated in a scavenger hunt to find objects around the Visitors' Center that counted toward Travis earning his Junior Ranger badge. After lunch, Eric and Courtney sat at the picnic bench, sipping hot chocolate, while Travis lingered in the shop, deciding what souvenir to buy with the five dollars Courtney had given him.

Sitting next to Eric on the picnic bench, Courtney wanted to slide her hand inside Eric's leather jacket and press her hand to his heart. She remembered asking her mother how she knew her father was “the one,” and her mom said it was the day she wanted to feel his heartbeat. They'd been sitting in the bleachers after football practice. Her dad had his football helmet tucked under his arm, and he was winded when he sat down next to Courtney's mom. She said she knew she loved him because all she could think about was that she wanted his heart to beat for her. Is that what Courtney felt? Surely, it was too soon to feel this way.

On the way home, Travis snoozed in the backseat, and Courtney and Eric rode silently so they didn't wake him. Through a stroke of luck, a parking space was open in front of her townhouse, and Eric pulled into it. He walked Courtney to the door, and she found herself not wanting to say goodbye. She fumbled through her purse for her keys.

“Aren't you gonna kiss her?” Travis yelled from the car.

Courtney looked up at Eric.

“We can't disappoint the boy,” he said.

“Surely not,” Courtney agreed.

Eric put the picnic basket on the stoop, took Courtney's purse from her, and laid it on top of the basket. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he threaded his fingers through the hair at the back of her neck and pulled her into him, pressing their bodies tightly together. He kissed her temple, breathing into her hair. “Let me make myself clear, Courtney. I'm not doing this to please Travis.”

She looked up into his clear eyes, the flecks of gold more prominent this close. “Neither am I.”

“Maybe we should move out of his line of vision.”

“Good idea.” Courtney gave Eric a quick peck on the cheek, and then she opened her front door, took his hand and pulled him into her townhouse. She waved goodbye to Travis, and then shut the door.

Courtney was already breathing heavily when she stepped into Eric's embrace. She gazed up at him. “Okay, pal, work your magic.” She closed her eyes, and he began to nibble on her bottom lip, sucked it into his mouth and bit, ever so gently. She moaned. She already knew he was a good kisser, but she wasn't prepared for this sensory explosion. She opened her mouth, and he shifted his lips to enclose hers. He traced his tongue sensuously inside her lips, and when he found the tip of her tongue, he pressed his to it like they were the last two pieces in a jigsaw puzzle, ensuring the perfect fit. Then he began a slow exploration, swirling and winding, but not deeply. Eric's tongue didn't assault, it invited. And together, their tongues melted in a harmonious dance. Rather than feeling invaded, Courtney wanted to deepen the experience. She kneaded the back of his neck, intertwining her fingers in his hair.