First Lady

  “They used to enrage me, just like Lucy did, and when I couldn’t stand it any longer, I’d haul off and slug them. A couple of times I left bruises on their arms. I’m no damned good at this. It’s why I hate being around kids so much.” He shifted Button to his other shoulder.

  “You hit them?” She watched Button poke a wet finger into his ear canal. “How old were you?”

  “Ten. Eleven. Old enough to know better, that’s for sure.”

  Not all that old. But Nealy knew nothing about relationships between brothers and sisters. “Did you keep hitting them as you grew older?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Of course not. I started to play hockey instead and took out my anger on the ice. During the summer, I boxed a little. Looking back on it, I think sports saved my sisters’ lives.”

  “So you didn’t keep hitting them?”

  “No, but I sure wanted to. Just like now. She’s such a brat.”

  “She’s having a hard time. And wanting to hit her isn’t the same thing as doing it. I don’t think you have to worry too much about being a batterer.”

  He looked as if he were going to argue, but at the moment she was too concerned about Lucy to listen. “I’d better go talk to her.”

  “No. She’ll wrap you around her finger. I’ll do it.”

  “Wait a minute! You need to know what—”

  “Save it. There aren’t any excuses for that kind of behavior.” He passed Button over to her and set off for the motor home.

  As Nealy watched him go, the baby twisted in her arms and started to cry. Nealy stared glumly at the table of uneaten food. So much for her wonderful picnic.

  Lucy lay face down on the bed, with her fist crushing her heart. She hated him! She hated them both. She wished she’d gotten hit by a car and gone into a coma. Then they’d be sorry for the way they treated her.

  She clenched her fist tighter and squeezed her eyes shut against her tears. She was being such a brat that she couldn’t even stand herself. It was no wonder they hated her. Nell had just been trying to be nice. Why did she always have to screw everything up?

  The door of the motor home banged and Mat charged in. Now she was really going to get it. She didn’t want him to see her lying on the bed slobbering, so she got up real quick and sat on the edge.

  She wondered if he’d hit her. Sandy’d never hit her, not even when she was drunk, but Trent had once.

  Mat came stomping back to the bedroom. She sat up straighter and got ready to face him. “I’m sorry!” she yelled before he could yell at her. “That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it?”

  He just looked at her, and the expression on his face made her want to cry all over again. He looked really mad, but he looked disgusted, too, like she’d really disappointed him.

  He looked like a dad.

  She bit her lip so she didn’t start crying and thought about all those years she’d dreamed about him. She used to write his name in her notebooks and whisper it as she fell asleep at night. Mathias Jorik. Her dad.

  She’d grown up knowing he wasn’t her real father. Sandy’d never lied to her about that. Her real dad had been a student at Carnegie Mellon Sandy had met in a bar one night and never seen again. Sandy didn’t even remember his name. She’d always said that, in her heart, Mat was Lucy’s dad.

  She’d heard lots of stories about Mat while she was growing up. How he and Sandy had met. How cute and smart he’d been. How nice he’d treated her, even though he didn’t have any money because he was only twenty-one and he’d just graduated from college.

  Lucy’d always dreamed that he didn’t care that Lucy wasn’t his kid. She’d imagined him telling her mother, That’s okay, Sandy. It’s not like it’s the baby’s fault that you got pregnant or anything, and I already love her just like she’s mine.

  As if.

  “You’re not getting away with talking to Nell like that.”

  “She started it.” That was such a lie that Lucy couldn’t even believe she’d said it.

  “What did she do?” He didn’t say it like he believed her. He said it like he knew she was full of it, and he was just giving her a chance to dig a deeper hole for herself.

  She thought about how bad she’d screwed up today. She was supposed to be getting them together, but all she’d done was cause trouble. If only Nell hadn’t said how she and Mat weren’t ever going to get married, and how they couldn’t adopt Button. And then she’d said that part about not being able to adopt Lucy, either, and it had made Lucy go sort of nuts, even though she hadn’t ever thought they’d adopt her.

  But Nell was only part of this, Lucy remembered. Jorik was the other part, and maybe he saw things between him and Nell different. The only way Lucy could find out was to swallow her pride. But it was hard. It felt as if she were trying to swallow a whole mouthful of broken glass.

  “Nell didn’t do anything. It was me. I was being a bitch.” Now that the words were out, she didn’t feel so bad, and she was almost glad she’d made herself say them.

  “Damn right you were.”

  “Nell said you’re not supposed to swear around me.”

  “Then we won’t tell her, will we? Just like we won’t tell her that I’m thinking of keeping you locked up back here until I turn you over to your grandmother.”

  Lucy poked at the frayed hole in her denim shorts. “I don’t care what you do.”

  “You ruined Nell’s picnic. You know that, don’t you? You saw the way she was fussing over those sandwiches like they were the most important thing in the world. She bought cupcakes with faces! Stuff like that means a lot to her, and now you’ve spoiled it.”

  Everything he was saying was true, and it made Lucy feel awful. But right now she had to think about Button, not her own feelings. “I said I was sorry. You like her a lot, don’t you?”

  “Nell?”

  Who’d he think they were talking about? But Lucy held back her sarcasm. “She likes you a lot, too. She said you were hot.”

  “She did?”

  “Uh-huh. And that you’re smart and really, really sensitive.” What did a few more lies mean when she’d already screwed up so bad?

  “She said I was sensitive?”

  “That means a lot to women. I think it’s because you like Button so much.” She didn’t mean for it to come out like a question, but it did anyway.

  She must have gone too far because he looked at her suspiciously. “What does Button have to do with this?”

  “Nothing,” she said quickly. “I was just using her as an example. And I wanted to tell you . . . if you want to be alone with Nell for a while for anything, me and Button can, you know, disappear. You just let me know.” She’d gotten good at disappearing with Sandy and Trent.

  “Thanks.” Now he was the one who sounded sarcastic. He crossed his arms and looked at her in a way that made her want to squirm. “You’ve got an apology to make. And it had better sound so sincere that it puts a lump in her throat, understand?”

  Even though she felt like her neck was breaking, she nodded.

  “And you eat everything she puts in front of you, even if it tastes like crap.”

  She nodded again.

  “One more thing . . . after we’re done eating, you’re going to look her straight in the eye and beg her to let you throw that stupid Frisbee around.”

  “Sure.” Lucy was starting to feel lots better because he wouldn’t care about all this if he didn’t like Nell so much. Maybe Button was going to have a home after all.

  Considering its disastrous start, Nealy’s picnic turned out well. Lucy offered a quiet apology, which Nealy quickly accepted. Then she and Mat proceeded to eat everything Nealy put out, including the tortellini salad, although she noticed Lucy saved hers until last and puffed out her cheeks while she was chewing. Button enjoyed all her food, but especially her banana, which she rubbed into her hair with glee.

  They’d barely finished eating before Mat said, “Where’s that Frisbee? Let’s see how good yo
u are, Nell.”

  “You two go ahead while I clean up Button. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Lucy and Mat set off for a grassy space just beyond the picnic tables. Nealy watched them as she changed Button, but she hesitated just as she was about to join them and decided to put Button in a baby swing instead. Let Mat and Lucy have this time together.

  She wasn’t surprised by Mat’s athleticism. He threw the Frisbee behind his back, made graceful catches, and in general enjoyed horsing around. Lucy was more of a surprise. After the first few awkward minutes, a lively young teenager surfaced. Lucy was a natural athlete, quick and agile. Mat alternated between taunting and praising her.

  You’ll never catch it. I’m way too good for you. Hey, not bad for a smart aleck . . . Whoa, you got some spin on that one. Okay, ace, see what you can do with this . . .

  Something inside Nealy ached as she watched them. Lucy’s brown eyes shone, her child’s laughter floated on every wisp of breeze. She looked young and happy, like the girl she should have been rather than the one she’d been forced to become. When Mat had to walk over to the playground to rescue an errant throw, Lucy followed him with her eyes, and her yearning was so intense it could only have come from the loneliest of hearts.

  She thought of her own difficult relationship with her father. Because he was so manipulative, she saw herself as his victim. Now she found herself wondering what part she’d played in being victimized. It was pathetic to be First Lady of the United States and still so concerned about pleasing Daddy.

  Maybe if she hadn’t been so young when she’d lost her mother, it would have been easier. Although she and her stepmother had a cordial relationship, it had never been an intimate one, which made her father even more important in her life. She’d frequently protested his manipulations but never completely defied him, not until she’d walked out of the White House four days ago. Had she been afraid that he wouldn’t love her if she rebelled? She promised herself that, from now on, James Litchfield would have to accept her on her own terms or be moved to the fringes of her life.

  “Come on, Nell,” Mat called out. “Set the Demon in the grass over here and see if you can keep up with us young folks.”

  Feeling as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders, Nealy joined them. Although her skills didn’t match theirs, they tolerated her, and she had a wonderful time.

  Eventually, Mat threw his arm around Lucy’s shoulders and rubbed her head with his knuckles. “Time to get back on the road, ace. You did all right.”

  Lucy beamed as if he’d given her a priceless gift.

  Button soon fell asleep in her car seat, and Lucy curled up in the back with her book. Nealy took her time putting away the last of the picnic food. Without the children as a barrier, she felt awkward around Mat. Just thinking about those hot words he’d uttered last night, the intimacy of his caresses, made it hard for her to meet his eyes. She didn’t like herself for it. Thirty-one was too old to be insecure about sex.

  She realized how accustomed she’d grown to keeping people at a distance, but it was an act of self-preservation for First Ladies who lived in an age of tabloid journalism and tell-all memoirs. In the past few years, even her friendships from childhood had suffered.

  Maybe what she enjoyed most about being Nell Kelly was that Nell didn’t have to worry about anyone’s place in history. She could just be herself. Nell, she realized, wouldn’t have a problem talking to Mat after last night’s delicious escapade.

  She moved to the front and sat in the passenger seat. “Do you want me to drive for a while?”

  “Not on your life. You’ll decide that Button can’t enter kindergarten if she hasn’t seen Lincoln’s law office in Springfield or the riverboat in Peoria.”

  “There’s a riverboat in Peoria?” She’d already seen Lincoln’s law offices.

  “It sank.”

  “You’re lying. Let’s do it, Mat. Let’s go to Peoria. It’s such a perfect symbol of middle America. It’ll be like a pilgrimage.”

  “Iowa’s just as good a symbol of middle America as Peoria, and that’s the only pilgrimage we’re going to make.” He glanced over at her and those smoky gray eyes took a leisurely stroll from her chest to her toes. “Besides, we can’t make love in Peoria.”

  Nell Kelly, the hussy, extended her legs just a little bit farther. “There is that.”

  “There sure is.”

  He’d definitely liked her legs. She smiled to herself. “Lucy loved throwing the Frisbee with you.”

  “Yeah. She’s a pretty good athlete.”

  “I wonder what’s going to happen to her. I asked about her grandmother today, but she wasn’t very forthcoming.”

  “I met her once, and I don’t think she’s your typical gray-haired grandmother. Sandy was born when she was young, so she’s probably only in her early fifties now.”

  “That’s good for the girls. They need someone younger. I just hope she can handle Lucy without breaking her spirit.”

  “Nobody’s going to break that kid’s spirit. She’s got a lot of guts.”

  She hesitated. “When you talked to her earlier, was she acting strangely?

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did she . . . say anything about the two of us?”

  “Yeah. She said you thought I was hot and sensitive.”

  “I never said that.”

  “Extremely smart, too. But then I always knew you were a good judge of character. She also volunteered to disappear for a while if I wanted to put any moves on you.” He paused. “Which I do.”

  She began to smile, but didn’t quite make it. “Lucy’s doing some matchmaking. I think she believes that if she can get the two of us together we’ll adopt her and Button. That’s why she blew up at me. I told her it wasn’t going to happen.”

  His own expression sobered. “This is what I wanted to avoid. I swear if Sandy were still alive, I’d kill her for this.”

  “She also doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get to Iowa. The whole thing is starting to worry me. What are you going to do if things don’t work out with the grandmother?”

  Nealy didn’t like the way his eyes narrowed. “The girls are Joanne Pressman’s responsibility. She’ll have to make them work out.”

  She glanced back at Button sleeping in her car seat, the Beanie Baby walrus curled over one chubby thigh, then gazed at Lucy sprawled across the bed with her head buried in a book. These little girls deserved a family and she could only pray that they’d find one.

  Mat had hoped they’d be closer to the Iowa border by nightfall, but the picnic had held them up. Then Nell saw a sign for a county fair, and the next thing he knew, he was perched on the back of a merry-go-round horse with a wide-eyed baby on his lap. Now, as they hit a deserted stretch of highway in central Illinois, that same baby was falling apart. With the closest campground forty miles away and her screams getting louder, he pulled off the highway at a weather-beaten FOR SALE sign.

  A narrow, rutted lane led to an abandoned farmhouse. He parked the Winnebago in a small clearing between the house and the skeleton of an old barn.

  “I bet a chain-saw murderer or somebody lives here.”

  He heard apprehension behind the bravado in Lucy’s voice, but he wasn’t going to make her swallow her pride by mentioning it. “You chicken, ace?”

  “No, I’m not chicken! But Nell looks nervous.”

  Nell, in fact, looked delighted. But then every new adventure seemed to delight her. “Do you think anyone will mind if we stay here?” she asked.

  He opened the door and gazed around at the weedy drive and sagging house. “It doesn’t look like anybody’s been here for a while. I don’t think we have to worry too much.”

  He was given Button-duty while Nell boiled some water for the spaghetti he’d bought for emergency rations, along with a jar of sauce. Lucy picked up the debris from their day and set out the dishes without being asked. Nell, who didn’t seem to be able to enjoy a meal without ants, a
nnounced they were eating outside, and they dined on the old quilt spread on the ground in an overgrown apple orchard.

  Afterward, Nell wanted to explore. Since there were too many hazards lurking around the ramshackle property for her to go off on her own, he propped Button on his shoulders, and he and Lucy went along. As an occasional spit bubble dripped into his hair, he let his female posse poke around the farm. Near the foundation of the old house, he spotted something pink. When he bent down to see what it was, he discovered an old, weed-strangled rosebush. He plucked off one of the buds that was just beginning to open and handed it to her.

  “A perfect rose for a perfect lady.”

  He’d meant to tease, but it didn’t come out that way. It sounded sincere, and Nell looked as if he’d given her the Hope diamond.

  They wandered around until it was too dark to see. That was when Lucy seemed to remember her role as matchmaker.

  “Give me Button, Jorik. Even a moron could figure out that it’s way past her bedtime, and she still needs a bath.”

  Button, however, refused to separate, and while Nell stayed outside to enjoy the evening, his rose tucked behind her ear, he found himself on bath duty. He didn’t have the patience to fuss around with putting her in the sink the way Lucy and Nell did, so he set her in the bottom of the shower stall and turned on the spray. Quick and effective.

  Lucy put her into bed, then propped herself on the couch with her book and told him to get lost so she could concentrate on what she was reading. He thought about telling her that her matchmaking wouldn’t work, but decided he’d be a fool to pass up a chance to be alone with Nell.

  Outside, the moonlight in the old orchard made gnomes from the gnarled tree trunks. She stood in the long grass with her head tilted back, gazing at the stars that were just becoming visible. She was a million miles away.

  He moved quietly, unwilling to disturb her. Light silvered her hair and fell softly on her skin. She looked beautiful and exotic, both at home in the old orchard and alien to it.

  Once again, he felt that uncomfortable tingling at the back of his neck, along with an odd pitching in his stomach. She was just Nell. Nell Kelly, an upper-crust runaway with a soft heart and a zest for life.