First Lady (15 page)
“Thanks,” Lauren croaked, swallowing hard.
Janet waved a dismissive hand. “Nothing as pedestrian as marriage and children would do for us. We had a different, daring life planned. One that didn’t even remotely resemble the ordinary middle class family I’d been raised in or the upper middle-class existence I was supposed to aspire to. I wasn’t just going to break away from that tired old mold. I was going to explode from it.”
Enthralled, Lauren waited for her to continue as Janet gathered her thoughts. A far off look crossed the older woman’s face and then she smiled.
“I was just about to close the shop for the evening and was thinking about what I would pack and how I would explain to my poor parents what I was about to do, when a tall, slim, good-looking man strode into the shop. His pants — not jeans, as we all wore in those days, but cotton trousers — were neatly pressed and his shoes were so shiny I could see the reflection of the ice cream case in them when I peered down at them.”
“Frank?” The description, except for the dark hair, which had turned a snowy-white with the passage of time, was still a very apt one.
Janet nearly swooned as she said, “He had the most beautiful blue-green eyes I had ever seen, and when I looked up from what I was doing I actually gasped.”
Delighted, Lauren laughed. “And you fell instantly in love?”
“Hardly!” Janet contradicted, excitement lighting her eyes. “After I managed to peel myself away from those beautiful eyes, I asked him, rather rudely, I might add, what kind of ice cream he wanted. I was anxious to leave and meet Brian, you see.” Janet crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ll never guess what kind of ice cream he ordered.”
An enormous grin split Lauren’s face. “Sure I can. The same kind that Devlyn prefers. Vanilla.”
“Vanilla,” Janet confirmed, wrinkling her nose. “We had 101 flavors in that store and that’s what he ordered. I looked at his wholesome clothes and neat haircut and considered his dull choice of ice cream and actually smirked.”
“Uh oh.”
“Uh oh is right,” Janet informed her blithely. “He spent the next 10 minutes explaining to me why vanilla was the perfect choice and one that would never be subject to fads or go out of style. It was, he told me in that that deep voice of his, a timeless classic.”
“And what did you say?”
Mischievously, Janet chuckled. “I said so was my granny’s girdle, but that didn’t mean I wanted one.”
Lauren shook her head, easily picturing the words coming from a young, polite, yet feisty Janet Peabody. If Janet had mellowed over time, what she must have been like in her youth.
“But I was lying,” the smaller woman said ruefully, “because by the time Frank had finished his dissertation on ice cream, darn it if I didn’t actually believe him. He helped me close up that night and offered to drive me back to my dorm so I wouldn’t have to take the bus. In the car, I told him about Brian and our plans and how I would write my parents and tell them after we’d gone.”
“Had Brian met your parents?” Lauren pulled her feet up into her chair and wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them to her as she listened intently.
“Of course not,” Janet scoffed. “Simply the thought of doing so terrified him. I also knew they would hate him, so I didn’t press it, though it did make me more uncomfortable than I wanted to admit at the time. Frank sneered at that, saying that any man worth his salt would want to be a part of my family and would spend his entire life, if need be, convincing them that he loved their daughter and was right for her.” Janet got up and pulled a tin of cookies from the cabinet. She popped the lid and took out one, passing the tin to Lauren before easing back into her chair.
Lauren reached inside, plucked out a cookie, and took a bite; and all the while her eyes were riveted on Janet.
“Then I dared him to put his money where his mouth was.” Janet crunched the cookie, catching the crumbs in her cupped hand.
Lauren’s eyes went round. “You what?”
“I told him if he was so keen on meeting people’s parents that he could drive me to
Cincinnati
that night and meet mine.”
Lauren’s nose wrinkled as a genuine smile curved her lips. “And he did.”
“And he did.” Janet put the lid back on the cookie tin. Her expression turned wry. “Of course, my parents adored Frank and in no time, when I looked into those beautiful eyes of his, I felt the same way.”
Lauren sighed happily.
“I called Brian and told him I wasn’t going anywhere.” Janet looked at Lauren and smiled gently. “I was never going to marry or have a child, you see. So Frank and Devlyn… well, they aren’t what I ever thought I’d have in my life, and still, they’re the best things in it.”
Lauren’s own words echoed back at her, and she sucked in a surprised breath as the story came full circle.
“Sometimes the best things in life aren’t what you expect them to be, Lauren. But that doesn’t mean they can’t work out.” Janet stood and bent to place a delicate kiss on Lauren’s forehead. She rested her warm palm on Lauren’s cheek. “I know you’re under enormous pressure right now. But being part of this family means you’re never alone unless you want to be. We love you and are here whenever you need us.” She allowed her hand to drop from Lauren’s face after a loving pat. “Now, dear, I’m off to bed. I promised to take Ashley horseback riding in the morning.”
Janet took a few steps toward the stairs, hearing Lauren sniff a few times.
“Janet?”
The older woman turned around and cocked her head towards Lauren. “Yes?”
“Can…” Lauren licked her lips as her stomach did a nervous flip. “Can I…” She swallowed. “Can I call you Mom?
I mean, it can be after the wedding, if you want,” she finished in a rush, surprised to see tears shining in Janet’s eyes and a tremulous smile shaping her lips.
She crossed the room again and pulled Lauren’s head to her chest, giving her a strong hug that Lauren sank into with almost shameful relief. “I would love that, honey. And you can call me that right now. No ceremony will change how I feel about you.”
Lauren smiled against Janet’s robe. “Thanks, Mom,” she said softly. It felt strange and thrilling and she spared her own mother a melancholy thought, hoping that she would be happy that a long absent piece of her life had finally found its way home.
Janet sniffed and wiped at her eyes, then reached down and gave Lauren’s side a playful pinch.
Lauren squeaked, eyes round with mock outrage.
“It’s bedtime,” Janet directed in her most motherly voice.
Lauren nodded and wiped at her own eyes as she stood.
Janet took her hand as they made their way to the stairs.
“Jan…Mom?”
“Mmm?”
Lauren suddenly felt exhausted, as though she’d climbed an enormous hill and was standing at the top, looking down the other side. “Thanks.”
APRIL
I
T WAS LATE, the lights were dimmed, and Devlyn and Lauren were reclining comfortably on Dev’s bed. A light spring rain pelted the White House, its uneven pitter-patter joining the muted clicking of Lauren’s typing. The writer was diligently working on her laptop, the light from the screen reflecting off the small lenses of her silver, wire-framed glasses, while Devlyn was re-reading one of Lauren’s Adrian Nash books, trying to unwind from an impossibly long day of meetings.
“You know,” Dev said, closing the book with a satisfied sigh, “this is my favorite of yours.”
Lauren smiled but kept typing. She was clad in a pair of lightweight silk pajamas and slippers and was very comfortable. The fire in the fireplace was nothing more than a uneven pile of glowing orange embers, but the room still held the faint scent of hickory, which Lauren found oddly relaxing. “You say that about whichever book you’re reading.”
Dev’s forehead creased, and she looked at the book as though seeing it for the first time. “I do?”
“Uh huh.”
“Oh.” Dev set the book on the nightstand, fluffed her pillow, and began to fiddle with the bedspread.
Lauren looked up from the screen, her fingers pausing over the keys. She tried not to sound exasperated. “Why don’t you try some television?”
“Do I have a television in here?” Curious, Dev glanced around her room.
“You’d think you’d know what’s in your own bedroom, you workaholic.” The light from the computer reflected off white teeth as she smiled.
“You’re in my bedroom.” Dev pinched her, causing her to laugh and squirm. “And you should talk.” Her laughter was even louder than Lauren’s as the younger woman nearly wiggled off the bed.
“Who’s working at nearly
?”
Lauren didn’t bother answering the rhetorical question. She smiled fondly at Dev and gave long dark hair an affectionate tug before extending her arm and pointing. “The TV is in that case, honey. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be finished.” A slow, sexy smile crept across her face and her voice dropped an octave. “And then we can do something else to occupy you until you’re ready to sleep.”
Dev felt the words all the way to her toes. She grinned wildly, not noticing that Lauren had begun to type again. “Now you’re talking.” Eagerly, Dev began to work the buttons on her pajamas, nearly tearing one of the more stubborn ones off in her haste. “Stupid, pain in the—”
Lauren glanced sideways and her fingers froze on the keyboard, her mouth suddenly going dry. Her eyes traced the gentle swell of Devlyn’s naked breast. Sweet Jesus. She swallowed hard, very aware of her body’s instant, pulsing response. She groaned, but reluctantly, she reached out and stilled Dev’s hands.
Dev looked up with an innocent, slightly harried expression that nearly caused Lauren to burst out laughing. “What? I’m going as fast I can.”
Unexpectedly, Lauren leaned over and kissed Devlyn on the mouth with brief but sincere passion.
Dev moaned at the feeling of warm, silken lips against hers. “Mmm… Hey, why are you stopping?”
Lauren eyed Dev dreamily. Good question. She barely resisted the urge to toss her computer on the floor and attack Dev’s pajama top herself. With her teeth.
“I need a few more minutes to finish, honey.” Quite without her permission, one of her hands wandered over to Dev and began to softly stroke the silky skin of her collarbone. “It has to go to
Wayne
in the morning. I promised him.” She sighed wistfully. “And if you get naked in this bed with me, I am done for the night.” Gray eyes twinkled.
“At least with work.”
Dev’s expression turned smug. “Well,” she tried to look modest, but didn’t quite manage it, “in that case…”
“You’ll watch TV for a little while.” It was more a statement than a question.
Not waiting for an answer, she gave the voice command for the television and the cabinet across the room opened to expose an older model 52-inch screen. “Just 15 more minutes, okay?” She patted Dev’s leg.
“Where’s the remote? I hate the voice command.”
“Top drawer of the nightstand,” Lauren informed her absently, her eyes already back on the computer screen, a tiny crease in her forehead letting Dev know she was trying to concentrate on something.
Dev retrieved the remote and climbed back into bed. At a speed faster than Lauren knew the television would work, she began changing the channels, pausing occasionally when something caught her eye. She listened to an infomercial for a moment, then pursed her mouth and touched her upper lip with a fingertip.
“Hey, Lauren?”
“Mm?”
“Do I have unwanted facial hair that I was unaware I even had?” Dev asked seriously.
Lauren turned to Dev and pulled her glasses off. She stared at her as though she were an alien. Then she heard the announcer selling a miracle cream. “Yes. Lots.”
Dev scowled. “Ha. Ha.” She changed the channel.
“Welcome to this very special live version of the Gary Kramer show. And I’m your host, Garreeeeeee Kramer! Tonight’s topic: Is She or Isn’t She?”
Dev snickered. “God, I can’t believe this show is still on. You’d think he would have run out of nutcases and hillbillies to pay to come on the show.”
The studio audience went wild, hooting and hollering and chanting
Gary
’s name over and over
“Gary Kramer is a freak,” Lauren muttered. “And his trashy talk show guests are bigger freaks.” She began searching her computer directory for a particular file.
A curtain went up showing the darkened outline of men on bar stools. Their backs were to the camera.
“I’d like to introduce Billy Ward, former student at
Nashville
’s
“Hey,” Lauren’s eyes lifted, “I went to John Overton.” Pale brows furrowed. “And I knew Billy. Damn, don’t tell me he’s dating his sister or something. He was a sweet guy.”
