Phoenix (25 page)

“That’s the reason you and Nick are flying solo in the picture?” Christine asked.

“That’s the reason I’m never having children,” Kathleen said.

Christine patted Kathleen on the shoulder. “So, Punky. Did your eldest child wander off or was she crunching exit numbers in the corner?”

“Mo was with my mother,” Caroline said. “We convinced her that the celebration was for her birthday. They were eating cake or something. Mom was bummed she missed out on the moment but she always loved that picture.” Caroline ran her fingers over the image. “That was a great party. We both look so happy.”

“That’s because you thought you didn’t have a chance in hell,” Kathleen pointed out. “Upset of the season. Maybe even recent Maryland history.”

Caroline decided to push it a little. “No,” she said. “It’s because I hadn’t met Chrissy yet. Everything went to shit after that and I became no fun at all.”

“Watch it,” Christine clucked.

“You know you love me.”

“It’s not a bad article.” Christine smiled faintly. “You really haven’t read it?”

“No, I’d forgotten it was coming out today. Did they interview you for it?”

“Briefly. I told them pleasant things.”

“In other words, you lied.”

“Only for you.”

Caroline browsed through the pages. “Here’s a picture of the two of us. That’s nice. From back when you were a natural blond, even.”

Christine snatched the magazine out of her hands. “I take back all those brilliant things I said about you and am no longer letting you peruse my reading material.”

Caroline took the magazine back. “Too bad they didn’t use that badass photo from the last campaign cycle.”

A snapshot of Caroline and Christine walking into a luncheon with sunglasses on, jackets draped over their shoulders, and looking quite serious, had made the rounds on the internet during the summer before the election. Caroline liked to call it their
Cagney and Lacey
pose. It was transformed into a meme but for once she didn’t mind the attention.

“I am as devastated as you are,” Christine said. “My hair was perfect that day.”

“And we both looked tough as nails.”

“Proof that my influence has a positive effect.”

Caroline flipped through the article again. “There aren’t any pictures of…you know in here, right?”

Christine blinked. “No. I wouldn’t have shown it to you if there was.”

“I told them not to spend too much time on it if they mentioned it at all.”

Caroline couldn’t even use the proper words for what had happened at the Capitol Visitor’s Center and rarely spoke of it. Aside from the two of them receiving recognition from the Speaker of the House and the President, neither Caroline nor Christine had discussed the matter in public more than once or twice, even during fluffy interviews.

She studied the layout with a critical eye. “They made me look like Natalie Wood. That’s so cool.”

“Jack doesn’t look too shabby, either.”

“That man doesn’t take a bad photograph. No airbrushing necessary.”

Christine glanced at the cover again. “I’m glad the two of you were able to keep from looking too provocative. What with your reputation and all.”

A hint of sarcasm but on the whole the image was pretty benign. “They wanted us to take a seductive picture in an elevator but I wasn’t going to go down that road.”

“They didn’t,” Christine said.

“They did. You must not read
Vanity Fair
that often.”

Christine looked around the conference table. “Didn’t want you draped all over him while you were posing for pictures in this room?”

Jack walked in and smiled at both of them. “They wanted her to wrap her legs around my neck but I told them that was for after the shoot was over.”

Caroline laughed as Christine blushed. “Jack, really. Don’t make Chrissy metaphorically clutch her pearls. The meeting hasn’t even started yet.”

“I’m sorry. What I should have said is that we only do things like that in my office after hours. And by the way, hello to you, Senator Sullivan,” Jack said, without a hint of shame. “Thank you for agreeing to serve on this task force.”

Christine cleared her throat. “Governor,” she said. “I shall remember you in my prayers this Sunday.”

“Good thing there are no interns in here,” Kathleen quipped.

“They should arrive any minute,” Jack said.

“You’re not going to remember me in your prayers?” Caroline asked.

Christine sighed. “I pray for you much more than one day a week. You’re a big project.”

Jack picked up the magazine. “Nicely done from what I can tell.” He smiled at Caroline. “That’s a great picture of you and Nick. I’d never seen that before.”

Caroline shrugged. “I’d practically forgotten about it.”

“You shouldn’t have. You both looked great.”

“What about the ones of us? Still regretting not letting them talk us into posing for a more seductive layout?”

Jack kissed her cheek. “No way. We’re keeping that private. Although I wouldn’t have objected to a centerfold.”

Caroline laughed as the interns filed into the room. “For you, or me?”

“Why not both?”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Christine said. “I hope the two of you are sitting at opposite ends of the room during this thing.”

Caroline smiled. “Jack’s all important so he sits at the head of the table. I’m sticking by you whether you like it or not.”

Christine was now in full aloof senator mode, but Caroline saw her lips turn up. “I can live with that.”

The meeting started late since some of the members of law enforcement were tardy. Caroline understood they had commitments that couldn’t always fit a schedule, but it remained annoying. The police officers and state troopers sat at the head of the table next to Jack as a sheriff from a tiny county in central Pennsylvania droned on about crime statistics. Caroline stole a glance at the representative from Philadelphia, who was shaking his head. The differences between small town policing and the challenges of an urban area were vast.

Jack took over the last half of the meeting, so Caroline did her best to pay attention. She almost yelped when Christine poked her notepad into her arm.

That’s Kelsey, correct? She’s wearing that unfortunate skirt,
she had written, with an arrow pointing toward the opposite wall.

Sure enough, Kelsey sat there with her eyes glued to Jack. And they weren’t exactly focused on his face. Caroline grabbed the notepad.
Smart you are, my young Padawan.

Christine scribbled next to Caroline’s note.
I’m on it.

Caroline tried to focus on what Jack was saying, but it was difficult. When he made a flip comment that got a brief chuckle out of one of the agents at his side, she heard far too bubbly laughter coming from the seats on the other side of the room. But of course. Kelsey.

Christine shot the girl a death stare so dark that for a minute Caroline actually felt sorry for her. Kelsey reddened and looked down at the floor. Caroline bit her tongue to keep from laughing, feeling guilty for being so petty but enjoying herself nonetheless. She felt the subtle press of Christine’s legal pad and looked to her right.

Was that bitchy enough for you?
Christine had written.

Caroline bit her tongue even harder as she drew a kitten wearing a business suit, then wrote,
You can do so much better than that. This meeting is far from over
.
Saucer of milk. Resting bitch face. Full meow.

She covertly slid the legal pad toward Christine. She heard a tiny squeak and saw Christine bring her hand to her mouth, presumably to keep herself from laughing. Caroline hid her own grin as she lifted her head up to look at Jack, who was completely oblivious to what was going on at the end of the table. It would indeed be an entertaining afternoon.

Caroline arrived at Natalie’s office just before two on Friday. She stood outside the door for a moment, mustering up her courage. She could leave if she wanted. Jack wasn’t
really
going to force her to attend these sessions. But she knocked on the door anyway, since it appeared to be locked. Maybe Natalie had decided it wasn’t worth it to show up.

Natalie unlocked the door, pushing it open and letting her in. Caroline couldn’t read her expression but since Natalie usually looked relatively happy, she knew she was in trouble.

Caroline gave her a little wave. Because she couldn’t possibly be more awkward. “Hi.”

“Come in,” Natalie said. Rather brusquely. She sat down at her desk.

Caroline took the chair across from her and carefully avoided eye contact. She wasn’t sure whether it was her job to speak first. It probably was, but her mouth seemed stapled shut. She tugged absently at her sleeve before looking at Natalie, whose eyes were glued to her desk. After several minutes, Caroline knew she had to say something or she’d go running out the door.

“I’m sorry about the other day,” she said.

“Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it,” Natalie said.

Oh, she was upset. Her posture was stiff as a board. Caroline had really fucked up. “I do. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“What if I told you that I didn’t find your apology to be sincere?”

“I-” She hadn’t expected that reaction. “Really?”

“Kind of sucks to have someone question your motives, doesn’t it?”

Well, this conversation was rather pointless. Caroline stood up and headed for the door. “Maybe this arrangement won’t work anymore. I should go. I really am sorry.”

“What will you tell Jack if you leave?”

“I’ll take the blame myself. Don’t worry. It’ll be all my fault. If I end up locked in my room alone, at least I won’t be hurting anyone else.”

“Caroline, wait.”

She whirled back around. “Would you like to yell at me before I leave? Want to get a few digs in? Fair is fair. I got to shred you and you barely got a word in edgewise. Go ahead. Want to make a few nice cracks about how I’m a sociopath who will never be right in the head, who has no one left in the world who loves her, who will always,
always
be alone and miserable? You can do it, Natalie. I believe in you.”

“I would never say that to you,” Natalie whispered. “Mostly because it’s completely false.”

Did she expect Caroline to believe that? “I used to be like you. Kind, caring, empathetic. And I could twist the knife against anyone at any point. I hate that part of myself. I bet you can find that ability if you try hard enough.”

Natalie sighed. Clearly she thought little of her patient’s overly dramatic speeches. “Sit down, Caroline. Jesus.”

Caroline opened the door. “It’s fine. I give you credit for trying to help me, and I can’t blame you for giving up.”

“I mean it. Sit down. I forgive you, okay? Don’t make me drag you back in here. You’re a lot stronger than me.”

Her voice was short but Natalie sounded sincere. Caroline shut the door and flopped into the chair facing her desk, still unable to make eye contact. “I really am sorry about what I said. I was totally out of line. I wanted to hurt you and it’s pretty obvious that I did.”

“Caroline, look at me.”

Caroline wrapped her arms around herself, tugging at her sweater sleeves. Natalie was giving her a small smile.

“I’m not mad,” she said. “I was yesterday, but I’m not now.”

“Maybe we should have a more normal doctor/patient relationship,” Caroline said.

“Is that what you want?”

She shook her head back and forth. “No. But I don’t want to feel like you’re my friend when you’re not.”

“I
am
your friend,” Natalie said. “And you’re not a sociopath. You wouldn’t have felt bad about what you said if you were. Let that go.”

“I shouldn’t have made that crack about your parents. That’s none of my business.  None of your personal stuff is my business.”

“Do you want to know about my relationship with my parents?”

She’d been dying to know ever since Natalie had let it slip. “Kinda,” Caroline admitted.

Natalie twirled her pen in her fingers. She did that often. Was that her nervous tic? “We don’t speak,” she said. “And it’s for the exactly the reason you think. I left my residency to do this. My father is a doctor, my mother is a homemaker. They were both born in California but dad’s family came over from Lebanon and faced some obstacles when they first got here. When the secession happened my parents were more than happy about it. They’d always been a little granola, sick of corporate America and its centralized government. They thought I was silly for wanting to preserve a country that had oppressed so many for so long, even before Santos took office. When I moved here they cut me off financially and stopped returning my calls.”

How incredibly lousy. “I’m sorry,” Caroline said.

“My sister doesn’t talk to me either. She’s close to them and I think she feels like she’s choosing my side if she dares to speak to me. They’re still putting her through grad school so she doesn’t want to piss them off.”

Lousy
and
petty. “That all sounds very junior high.”

Natalie laughed shortly. “It is, sort of. Does my family’s dysfunction make you feel better about your own situation?”

Caroline smiled at her. “Not really. But I shouldn’t have brought it up regardless. I had a feeling it was an issue and I threw it right back at you. And I shouldn’t have made that crack about Jack and me being…you know. I’m not even old enough to be your mother.” The smile faded. “And I’m not sure I’d be a very good one anyway,” she whispered, covering her eyes.

Natalie took the seat next to Caroline, taking her hand. “From what Jack tells me, you were very close to your daughters.”

So many things to balance. So many memories to block out. Her children were always at the top of the list, and Caroline had stupidly gone and opened the door herself.
Her mood swings were intense but this fall had happened quicker than usual. “I can’t talk about them,” she said. “Please. That’s the one thing that absolutely has to be off limits. I’ll talk about anything else.”

“It might help. Have you talked to anyone about them, at all?”

Natalie was going to push it. Today of all days. Caroline shook her head again. “No, I just – I can’t. I really can’t. It’s too hard.”

“We don’t have to talk about them,” Natalie said, patting her hand reassuringly. “But anyone, including me, would be lucky to have you as their mom.”

Caroline squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep the tears from falling and failing miserably. She didn’t want to lose control, not in here, not so soon after starting what she hoped would be a nonthreatening session with Natalie.

“Caroline.” Natalie put her arm around her. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay. It would never be okay. Why couldn’t she see that? “I remember every detail of that last moment before they left,” Caroline whispered. “And then I remember it’s my fault that they’re gone.”

“That’s not true,” Natalie said. “That is not true and you know it.”

She had to get out of that room and back to her apartment as soon as possible. “I should go. I can’t do this. I thought I could but I can’t.” She stood up. “Maybe we can try this later.”

Natalie rose to steady her. “No, we’ll talk about something else.”

Was she kidding? “What else is there to talk about? There are a lot of things fucking me up but we both know what the biggest one is.”

“There are plenty of other things we can chat about.” Natalie put her hands on Caroline’s shoulders. “We can talk about nothing for an hour, if that’s what you want. Or we don’t have to talk at all.”

The panic surged through her, and Caroline was overwhelmed with memories she didn’t want to acknowledge. She felt herself falling again, knew she was about to hyperventilate, or scream, or break something, and she didn’t want Dr. Haddad to have to deal with it.

“Caroline,” Natalie said. “Breathe.”

A sob caught in her chest and she swallowed it down. “Sometimes I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and I swear I can smell their hair, feel them hugging me, hear their voices,” she said softly. “I have all these memories trapped inside my head from when I was pregnant to all their major milestones to all those silly little moments that you never thought were important while they were happening. I can’t stop them.” Caroline covered her face with her hands. “It tears me apart. I never knew it could hurt so much to love another person, let alone two, and I can’t – they’re gone and I don’t know what to do.”

Natalie wrapped Caroline in her arms. “It’s okay. Let it out.”

Did Natalie know she could barely acknowledge her loss? That she suppressed her pesky, fragile emotions at every turn? What would the doctor do if Caroline really fell apart? “My babies,” she whispered, and started sobbing.

Natalie guided her to the couch. She kept an arm around Caroline until her sobs dissolved into sniffles.

“I know they’re gone,” Caroline said. “But part of me thinks they’re out there. Sometimes I don’t
feel
like they’re gone. Wouldn’t I know? Wouldn’t I sense something? I’ve always known, always had that weird feeling that something was off or that something had changed. But then there’s another part of me that realizes they aren’t coming back.”

“That’s a normal part of the grieving process,” Natalie said.

Caroline wiped her eyes. “It doesn’t make any sense. Terrible things happen to people all the time and they get through it. Why am I having such a hard time?”

“You suffered a tremendous loss,” Natalie said. “It takes years, sometimes a lifetime, to properly process grief. And you’ve had a lot of awful things happen to you in a short amount of time.”

Caroline blew her nose with the tissue Natalie handed her. “They wanted a dog,” she said. “They would beg me for a dog, especially Sophie. She wanted a puppy with big ears and a puffy tail and-” She put her face in her hands again. “Why didn’t I get them the fucking dog? Jack kept prodding me to do it. Said it would make them happy. I should have gotten the goddamn dog.”

Natalie put her arm around her. “It’s okay.”

“They never asked me for anything,” Caroline said. “Not really. I always wondered why they didn’t press their luck once I got remarried.” She crumpled the tissue in her hand, another tear slipping out. “All they wanted was a dog.”

Natalie handed her another tissue. “Caroline, I’m sure this isn’t as big a deal as you’re making it out to be.”

“It is,” she insisted. “Jack and I were gone so often, either separately or together. Why did I deprive them of that? Something nice. A furry friend to keep them company while we were away.”

“Then why didn’t you get one?”

She shrugged her shoulders guiltily. “I thought I’d be the one who ended up doing most of the work. I didn’t feel like taking care of anyone else. Which is a terrible thing to think because they were really responsible kids. They would have done their part.” She shook her head. “Jack always gave me everything I ever wanted, sometimes more, and I couldn’t turn around and give them the only thing they asked for.”

“I’m sure they understood.”

She felt another round of tears coming on. “What if they didn’t?”

Natalie rubbed her shoulder. “If they were anything like their mother, they did. You have so many other battles to fight. Don’t pick this one. Especially not today. Okay?”

“Can we talk about something else?” Caroline whispered.

“Of course.” Natalie returned to her familiar spot behind her desk. “Is there something else that’s been bothering you?”

She thought back to the night before. May as well press forward. “Yeah. I have a lot of dreams about my old life. Is that normal?”

“You mean, your
life
,” Natalie corrected.

Caroline was in no mood for linguistic games, even though she was quite good at them. “Whatever.”

“Tell me more about these dreams.”

“Like imagining that I’m at home, that none of this happened. Or thinking about things that happened in my life over the past few years.” Caroline blushed, not wanting to go into detail.

“Good memories. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Most of the time they’re good.”

“Let me guess. You had a dream last night.”

“Yeah,” Caroline said. “About Jack.”

“Oh. I see.” Natalie grinned. “Was it entertaining?”

She blushed deeper. “Screw you for figuring out what it was about.”

“Your body language gave it away. Don’t feel bad.”

“He came to visit me yesterday. I assume you know that.”

Now Natalie blushed. “I might have freaked out a little after you left my office.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not entirely sure I know what I’m doing.”

Caroline laughed. “I don’t know what I’m doing either, so we’re even. Can I pretend you’re my friend and not my therapist?”