9781631054631ChoiceAffairsSalisbury (17 page)

Caitlyn, on the other
hand, is settling into her role as a senator’s wife quite nicely, as I knew she
would. She seems to
be impressing
a lot of people in a short time. The
trip to Walter Reed marked an important start to Cai
ti’s
new life here. My people have put it out, as has Caitlyn herself, that she is
interested in supporting my causes.

She will do quite well
with whatever she chooses. In spite of the ugliness she’s already had to see,
she’s not retreating. Instead, she’s
going ahead full
speed.

Renee and I spoke
about it briefly. Knowing the town, even having been away, she’s researching
things for Caitlyn—organizations, people she should contact.
Invaluable information.

“You mentioned Caitlyn
is an avid ballet fan.”

“Yes
, she is.”

“Did she dance as a
child?”

“She wanted to, but
her mother, of course, discouraged it.”

A
long pause.
“There are several, marvelous ballet companies here in the D.C. area. I would
suggest the two of you take in performances by each. That way, if
you decided to become a patron or benefactor to one, you
would be better informed.”

“Renee,
really.
You’re not suggesting I go to watch every ballet troupe here in the area?”

“Yes, that’s exactly
what I’m suggesting.”

A groan escaped my
lips. I didn’t min
d ballet…once in a while. The idea
of being dragged from pillar to post was not my idea of fun. “Can’t you simply
choose, say, four for us to take in?”

“No, that wouldn’t be
fair, Senator Choice.”

Ah, the senator bit. I must have hit a
nerve.
“Very
well, g
ive Caitlyn the list. I’ll do my best to
tolerate all these long evenings.”

“You’ll enjoy
yourself. You know you will.”

“And how have you come
up with that conclusion?”

“It’s something
Caitlyn loves. If she loves something, you seem to go out of your way
to make sure she can enjoy it.”

“Renee, you’ve been
working for me far too long,” I quipped.

“Why do you say that?”

“You know me too
well.”

“I’m supposed to. I
wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t.”

“I’d also like you,
when you have time, to look up local
charities and
foundations.
Anything dealing with
people with disabilities.
Doesn’t have to be military, though that certainly doesn’t
hurt.
Scope them out. I don’t want Caitlyn meeting with any that might not be on the
up and up.”

“Certainly.”

“She’s looke
d at a few online. I know that for a fact. But you really
can’t judge a book by its cover, as the old saying goes.”

“No, you can’t. I’ll
prepare a list then perhaps call her and see what she’s discovered on her own.
We can compare notes, without her knowin
g you’re
behind it.”

“See? I told you. You
know me too well.”

“As it should be,” she
replied.
“Anything further,
senator?”

“No,
not at the moment.
Caitlyn’s having dinner with the vice president’s wife
this evening.”

“If she likes your
wife, sir, Caitlyn
will find no doors closed.”

“That’s good to know
Renee.
Really.”

* * * *

The interior of the
home looked like it had come straight off the pages of
Traditional
Home
or
Town
& Country
magazine. But then, it was the home of the Vice President of the United
States, so it should. Elegant, but still had a homey feel
to it.

I was met by my
hostess herself, Christine Powell. Even here, she dressed the part of a
dignitary’s wife, greeting me wearing a dark grey, silk blouse and winter white
slacks. I was amazed t
o find her also wearing heels
at this late hour.

“Caitlyn,
thank you for coming.
Please sit,” she said, motioning to a wingback chair. “Can
I get you something to drink?
A
glass of wine, perhaps?”

“Yes, wine would be
nice.”

“Red
or white?
Brad and I discov
ered this amazing Cabernet. It’s
produced by a small Washington state vineyard. If you like red, I guarantee
you’ll love this.”

“I adore Cabernet.”

She walked over to a
chest located at the perimeter of the room and uncorked a bottle. Pouring two
glasses,
she passed one to me. Swirling the dark red
liquid, she then sniffed it before taking a taste. Obviously, she and the vice
president were wine buffs. “I was quite impressed with the way you presented
yourself today.
Very professional.
It’s not easy for som
e of the wives to do tours at Walter Reed.”

“Thank you,” I
replied, sipping my wine. “You know it’s a passion of my husband’s that I
share. These young men deserve support and assistance where it’s needed.”

“Ah, but your husband
is a remarkable man himself
. Allowing all those years
to pass without letting a soul know what had happened to him.”

“He’s never wanted
pity. He wasn’t going to settle, either. It’s not in his nature. Sure, he could
have stayed working in one of his father’s businesses. That’s not A
polo. What he’s done, where he is now, he did on his own.”

“But now, he’s ready
to start his own foundation?”

“We’ve discussed it in
the past. Now, with his appointment, he thought it presented itself to be the
perfect time to come out, so to speak.”

“He’s
going to make an excellent senator. My husband thinks
highly of him.”

“Thank you.”

“And you? You’re
settling in okay?”

“Yes. I admit it’ll
take some getting used to. Washington is different from Atlanta, and of course,
some of that has to do with Apolo’s
new position.”

Putting her glass down
on a table beside her, she stood. “Let me check on dinner. I don’t know about
you, but I’m famished.”

While she was gone, I
looked around the room, trying to get a feel for the people who lived there.
They say you can
tell a lot about people from their
homes. So far, Apolo and I hadn’t been in any one place long enough to put our
mark on a home
The
mansion in Atlanta was all Apolo. The
house here had some bad memories from the start.

I heard the click of
high heels on t
he wood plank floor. “If you’re ready,
grab your glass, and we’ll go into the dining room.”

I pushed to my feet to
follow her as she picked up her wine. “You have a beautiful home, Christine.”

“Thank you. I wasn’t
sure about moving in here at first, but
now that
we’ve settled in, I love the feel of the house.”

Following her into a
space not far off the living room, I was amazed at how everything flowed
perfectly. The dining room was large, and the table, I was sure, could seat a
fair size dinner party, if
extended. Glancing at it,
I silently wondered if it was a reproduction or the real thing. If it was the
real deal, it was in extraordinary condition.

I remembered Apolo
telling me once that the table and most of the chairs in the formal dining room
in Atl
anta were the real deal.
Had been made by a famous Philadelphia furniture maker.
Somehow, the entire group managed to
stay together through over two hundred years.

Christine showed me to
my seat. Then, she sat at the end, with me to her right. Dinner was s
imple, yet elegant. A salad of mixed greens rested in front
of us. We made it through this course bantering about the upcoming holidays and
traditions. Light conversation.

The main course
consisted of pork roast with asparagus and new potatoes. The pork wa
s cooked to perfection, with an unusual cranberry honey
glaze. I made sure to compliment her, hoping to get the secret to the recipe.

Forgoing
dessert, we returned to the living room for a dessert wine.
Remembering what Apolo had told me earlier, I made my
leave at a reasonable time.

“Thank you again for
taking the time to join me at Walter Reed today. I look forward to perhaps
working on some wounded-warrior-type projects in the future.”

“I would like that.
Thank you for inviting me.”

“Any other issues you
would like to get involved in?”

“Equine
therapy.
I know they use it with children in particular. I’d like to find out more about
it. I believe it could be just as effective with adults, too. Disabled, like
Apolo.”

“Ah, that’s fantastic.
Perhaps you could
persuade your husband to pose for
some photos atop a horse.”

“That would be an
excellent concept. I’ll have to start planting it in his head.” I paused. I
needed to leave. I didn’t want to wear out my welcome. “Thank you again,
Christine. I look forward to
working with you.”

“Trust me, you’ll be
hearing from me. We need more wives like you, Caitlyn.”

I smiled, turned, and
headed down the stairs to my waiting car.

* * * *

It had been a long,
productive day. Grateful to be home, I removed my heels as soon a
s I entered the penthouse. Picking them up, I padded into
our bedroom. Pulling the comforter back, I instead decided a long, hot shower
was in order. Seeing a novel I was in the midst of reading sitting there, I
reconsidered. But a nice soak would be more
beneficial.

I made my way back to
the kitchen, turning a light on in the living room. I poured a glass of
Cabernet and walked back to the bathroom. Setting the wine on the ledge of the
tub, I poured in some bath crystals and let the faucet take over.

While
the tub filled, I went into the closet and took off my
clothes. Grabbing a silk robe, I made my way back to the bath and got in.

Immersing
myself
in the hot water felt soothing. I
hadn’t realized how tired I was. The day certainly had been busy. I felt as
though I’d made headway, no matter how small. Taking a
hearty swallow of the red wine, I decided I was too exhausted to read. Instead,
I lay back and closed my eyes.

Having entered that
grey area where you’re asleep but think you’re awake, I relaxed. Sudd
enly, I heard the sound of glass breaking on tile. I jolted
awake. My wine glass was in a million bits on the floor, the wine soaking into
my robe. “Damn!”

“Caitlyn, are you in
here?” It was Apolo.
Perfect
timing.

“Yes, I’m in here,
cursing like a sailor.”

He walked in and
surveyed the mess. He shook his head. “Things go that badly you’re tossing your
wine around?” He grinned, coming closer.

“No. If you must know
mister smartass, I fell asleep. My hand must have jerked or something.”

“Hmmmm.
Or something.
Do you need some help?”

“If you could help get
the glass up so I don’t step on any of it when I get out, I’d certainly be
grateful.”