Shades of Shame (Semper Fi) (3 page)

Looking at the bed through the mirror he could still see the sleek fit body of the twenty year old brunette, her long flowing hair cascaded down over her shoulders and the thin sheet that barely covered her body.  He couldn’t even remember her name, not that he really cared.  The thoughts of Elise warmed him.  He wished that it was her lying in his bed.  The tawdry encounters with women held little emotional importance and were only to satisfy his sexual cravings, nothing more.  It was
her
stunning beauty that he saw when he pushed himself inside their tight pussies.  It was her that he imagined when he exploded into his condoms.  They were simply vehicles. Yet like fast sports cars, he was addicted to them.

He threw his towel on the end of the bed as he passed through the room to the closet.  It was an effort to wake her without actually having to speak to her.  He removed a white button down shirt still wrapped in the plastic bag from the cleaners and placed it on the back of the chair next to the bed.  She moaned as she rolled over, not fully getting the message from David.

“You gotta get out of here,” David said, dropping thirty dollars on the end of the bed.  “Grab a cab,” he said as he walked past her towards the bathroom, slapping her on the ass.

He finished dressing and walked out of the room and down the stairs.  Patricia was already sitting in the kitchen with an open bottle of red wine in front of her when he entered.  “She still here?” Patricia asked.

“Yeah, but she’s leaving.”

“Who is she?” Patricia looked more and more perturbed with each question.

“Just an intern.”

Patricia’s eyebrows lifted; her condescension was clearly evident as she took a long gulp of his expensive wine.  “What the hell is wrong with you?  Haven’t we had this conversation?”

David placed his hand on her forearm and stared deeply into her eyes.  “You know what I want,” he said, “I just want back in my wife’s bed.”

“As long as you continue sleeping with the help…”

David interrupted her, “Elise is thinking of leaving again, isn’t she?  She’s threatening divorce again, right?”

“I know I would.  But then again, with Elise… who knows?  If I were her I wouldn’t have come back to you the last time.  What do you think, Captain Obvious?  Or has that tramp fucked your brains out too?  Patricia motioned over her shoulder towards the silent girl closing the front door behind her.

David sat nervously, twisting the black watch on his wrist.  The situation with the interns was beginning to concern him, although he was having problems identifying the exact emotion to attach to it.  At times it felt like the whole weight of the world was crashing down around him, but David couldn’t even be sure if he cared anymore.

He closed his eyes as his memory flashed back and forth between his time as a fighter pilot and his life as a senator.  His fighter pilot training served him well, and probably the greatest skill he learned was disassociation:  The ability to completely remove his human feelings and just look at the situation with an open and almost clinical mind.  He vacillated back and forth between avenues of approach, desperately trying to assess potential outcomes.  However, no possible outcome seemed viable, or even the least bit attractive.  Resignation to a life without Elise and Logan seemed imminent if he couldn’t stop.   “I love her, you know.  It’s just that…”

“Just what, asshole?  Just can’t stop fucking the interns?”

“She needs more than I can give.  I hit fifty and started to feel like I need to fuck everything in sight.  She hit fifty and decided to take up sailing and monogamy!  I can’t get a damned break!”

“Well your ship with Elise might have
sailed
my friend, and I’m not sure there’s anything you can do that’ll fix it this time.  If she finds out you’re screwing around again, she’s going to take your hide.  I doubt I could even convince her to stay.  There’s one thing you can be sure of, Senator,” she added sarcastically, “it’s going to be painful, very, very painful.”

“And who else knows about my uh… indiscretions?  What about them?”

“Handled.  Just like always.  But your problem isn’t the press, it’s Elise.  If she finds out, she’ll ask for a divorce and make it all public.  That, my friend, will end your career.”

“What does she want from me?” David leaned back in the barstool at the counter in his ‘Den of Sin.’  He already knew the answer.

“Prince Charming, Knight in Shining Armor… don’t think like a fucking idiot David!  Elise isn’t a twenty year old twit.  All she wants is you.  After putting up with your ass all these years, I don’t know why she still wants you but she does.  You have to stop fucking interns David, just stop it.”

He studied his long time political handler, “And you have to stop smoking those fucking cigarettes Patricia, just stop it.”

“Fuck you David,” she pushed the remainder of her cigarette into the ashtray on the counter, “come on, dinner at your house in an hour.”

Dinner at the McNarry’s

Leila sat at the counter of her mother’s Georgetown condo waiting patiently as she went over her notes from her first day.  She was pleasantly surprised that the only personal interactions she had with her mother were via email.  That suited her just fine; there had never been much of a meaningful relationship there anyway.  She looked up and eyed the empty townhouse, who she did miss here was Nanny Jo Harry.  Nanny Jo had raised her, tended to her skinned knees, and tucked her in at night.  Even after all these years, the townhouse just seemed empty without the robust woman.  She prickled at the memory of how quickly and inconsequentially Nanny Jo had been dismissed when Leila left for prep school.  Her mother had never valued one single relationship in her life, except for the magnificent McNarry’s of course.  Leila sighed and resumed studying her notes.  Regardless of how she felt, if she were going to pursue a career in politics, dealing with her mother was critical.

Studying people via her notes, she began to see them for who they were.  Seeing the patterns emerge told her just about everything she needed to know about the office.  Who loved their job, who the best contributors were, who were the weak links.  There was a myriad of information available if one were just patient and observant enough to look for them.  Of course, this was just one day’s worth of notes, and it would take many more days before consistent reliable patterns began to emerge.  She felt confident that everyone would be in their rightful imaginary queue in her mind before the week was over.  Already Lindsay Smith was in the ‘Fucking David’ column, so that was a start.

She began to wonder where her mother was.  It was almost seven and it was unlike Patricia to be tardy.  A knock on the door rattled her back to reality.  She stuffed her leather book of secrets into her purse and opened the door to find a tall black man in a tailored black suit standing at the door.  “Yes?”

“Miss Johnson?  I’m Ronald.  Your mother is waiting in the car.”

Well that answered
that
question; Leila thought as she locked the front door behind her and climbed down the steps towards the waiting black town car.

He walked closely behind her, close enough to grab the door to the town car before she could reach for the handle.  “Thank you, Ronald,” Leila said, sliding into the back seat.

“Very nice,” the woman said from behind the crystal glass that touched her lips.

“I take it you approve?”  Leila was no stranger to congeniality, but placed little value on her mother’s approval.  She had chosen a pair of simple black slacks, a black v-neck tee shirt, and Vittadelli black sandals.  After much scrutiny in the mirror, she’d gone a little heavier with the jewelry and make up tonight in an effort to appear her age.  Far gone were the days when she’d felt like she had to dress like someone she wasn’t.  Simplicity and elegance were always in fashion.

“The McNarry’s insisted on welcoming you home this summer.  Isn’t that wonderful?  I thought it might be nice to get reacquainted with
everyone
.”

“Everyone?” Leila didn’t like the edge her mother put on the word.

“Yes.  The Senator, Elise of course, and Logan.  Remember Logan?”

Leila did remember him.  Skinny boy, curly blondish brown hair, and huge silver braces on his teeth.  Leila had even been his babysitter on occasion.  “What is he now, sixteen?”

“Nineteen.  Not exactly the little kid you remember Leila, trust me.   The kid is showing great promise.  I thought you might get to know him a little better, dear.”

“Playing matchmaker, are we?  Mom you know I don’t have time for…”

“Winners make time,” she said, cutting her daughter off mid-sentence.

Damn she’s good at that
, Leila thought with irony.

“It certainly wouldn’t hurt you to associate with people your own age.  You’ve always been such a goody two shoes,” Patricia mumbled through her scotch.

Leila closed her eyes to conceal the laughter rolling in her throat.  Her mother was the one single person on the planet who would ever think to call her that!  Goody two shoes wasn’t a title anyone who actually
knew
her would give her!  On the contrary, most girls her age used words like slut, whore, and bitch.  Men her age usually just texted their phone numbers or bought her drinks.  Leila had never had time to give a damn about any of them; no one her age had anything worthwhile to offer.  On the other hand, her teachers and professors had always ranted and raved about her to anyone who would listen…
this girl is going to go far
, they would repeat.

She opened her eyes to see her mother reaching for the intercom button on the console in front of her.  “Ronald, please drive around the block a couple of times.”  Leila checked her Rolex; they were early, and guests should never be early.  It seemed a little ridiculous to still maintain such formalities with the McNarry’s, and Leila knew it was just a charade for her benefit.  Yet, it made perfect sense to her somehow.  You could easily qualify a person by their manners.  In Leila’s mind, every person she met must be put into some kind of queue.  All were important, some even crucial to her life, categorizing them determined how she dealt with them.  Her mother was in the queue labeled ‘dangerous as hell, proceed with caution.’

Patricia pulled a second glass from the bar and poured the dark brown liquid in it.  “Go ahead, my dear.  We have time to share a cocktail before being received,” she said as she handed her daughter the crystal glass.

Leila hated scotch, and her mother knew it.  She drank it down without revealing her displeasure. 
Never let your enemies know your true feelings.

*-*-*-*-*-*

The home exuded just as much power and status as the Senator himself.  Tall red brick mansions were a dime a dozen in Washington, but this one stood apart like an embassy.  The flag of Massachusetts flew above the U.S. flag, then a light blue Christian flag flew closest to the massive wooden front door… at least they had their priorities straight Leila thought with humor. 
No wonder the Senator hadn’t lost an election in his home state; he placed them above his country, and even above God.
  She was fairly sure most people thought it was a simple flag order mistake, but Leila knew it wasn’t.  The Senator was infamous for a few of his faux paux’s.  One thing she knew for sure about David McNarry, he said what he felt… even if he had to retract it on national television later in the day.

Thankfully, when they were received in the grand foyer, he did not pat her head or talk about how he remembered her as a child.  He was formal and distant, Leila picked up a bit of tension between he and ‘Aunt’ Elise.

But Elise hugged her tightly, the woman oozed sweetness.  “Oh Leila, darling!  I’ve never seen a prettier child than you, and now just look… you surpass us all!”

Elise took her by the hand and led her into the family room.  Leila was immediately taken aback by the portrait over the fireplace, “That’s gorgeous!  Is it new?”  She didn’t remember the nearly full sized painting as part of the house before.

Elise smiled and pulled her into another hug, “So kind of you to say sweetheart!  Yes, just had it commissioned a few years ago.  Oh my, I just realized how long it’s been since you were here last!”

Leila studied the beautiful work of art; it portrayed Elise much as she was now, on the helm of a sailboat with her hair flowing in the wind.  It was a refreshing change from the stuffy posed portraits most women hung over their mantels.  Elise was a free spirit, and the artist had captured her loveliness in its essence.  “It has been quite a while since the last time I babysat for Logan!”

Elise had a musical laughter, “I’m afraid my son is AWOL.  I can’t tell you how furious I am at him right now!  Four times I told that boy to be home no later than seven!  Ah well, we’ll all do our best not to bore you to tears tonight dear, won’t we David?”

David McNarry had wandered into the family room in need of another drink, “What? Oh… sure… I wouldn’t be caught dead being boring,” he said as he poured a scotch from the decanter on the bar and dropped three ice cubes into the glass.  Leila watched him swirl the liquid in the short glass as he turned towards her.  His eyes scoured every inch of her in a flash. In fact, they began to twinkle when they landed on her heavy breasts.  “Um… has Logan seen this?” he asked clumsily and waved towards Leila.

Elise still held Leila by the shoulders; the two stared at him blankly.  “He’s late!” Elise spouted finally.

“His loss,” the Senator said, shaking his head.  “Damned boy is always a day late and a dollar short!”  David turned and headed out the doorway.  “Patricia wants to teach me about politics,” he added with sarcasm.  “We’ll be in my office when dinner’s ready.”  With that, he disappeared into the hallway with Patricia at his heels.

“Ugh… men are such bears!  Leila, promise me you’ll forgive Logan for being late?”

Leila was taken with Elise’s charm; the woman could make the devil himself happy.  “He’s already forgiven!”

Elise cheered, “Good! Now sit down and fill me in on everything about yourself!”