Read Online Eighteen Acres: A Novel by Nicolle Wallace - Free Book Online
Authors: Nicolle Wallace
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higher calling than visiting the troops and being there for the election?” Charlotte asked.
“Yes. My wife. Stephanie found a lump in her breast, and we’re waiting to find out if it’s cancer.”
“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry. Is that why she isn’t here tonight? I feel awful. What can we do? Are you seeing the best doctors? Let’s go call her!”
Charlotte felt like an idiot for being demanding. She relied on Roger for so much that she felt a flash of anxiety that the center of his universe would be somewhere other than the work they were doing together.
“God, Roger, what are you doing here? Go home to Stephanie. Please. I need to go find my husband, anyway. We are supposed to pretend that we enjoy each other’s company on nights like tonight.”
“Charlotte, don’t,” Roger said.
“Don’t what?” Charlotte asked.
“Don’t act like I’ve rejected you and you don’t care. I have not rejected you, and I can see on your face that I have disappointed you, and I hate it. There is nowhere I’d rather be than with those guys—and with you—and you know it. But I need to be there for her. She was there for me, and I need to be there for her now.”
“Of course you do. I completely understand. I would do the same,” Charlotte said, forcing a smile.
He reached to pull her into a bear hug. She hugged him back.
“And that’s why I love you, Roger—you’re so decent. You always do the right thing. Stephanie is lucky.”
“So is Peter,” Roger said, but even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t a plausible statement.
Charlotte laughed. Roger just smiled at her and hugged her closer than he would have if anyone had been watching.
Charlotte took a deep breath and hugged him back for a few seconds before releasing him and pushing him away. “Go home. I insist. If I can’t handle the Panamanians on my own, we’ve got a very serious problem on our hands,” she said.
Roger laughed. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Yes. And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me right away. Please tell Stephanie that I’d like to come see her whenever she’s in the mood for a visitor.”
“Thanks, Charlotte. As soon as we get through this, you know I’ll be back one thousand percent.”
“I know.”
Roger turned to go, and she stood in the hall watching him walk toward the West Wing. Charlotte noticed that her guests had all migrated to the floor above, so she hurried upstairs to take her seat at the head table for dinner. She had no idea what was on the menu or who would provide the evening’s entertainment. Formal dinners were typically the responsibility of first ladies, but since she didn’t have anyone to fill that role, the White House social secretary made all the decisions. As she entered the Cross Hall at the top of the stairs, Sam appeared and gently directed her to her seat.
“Roger had to leave early for a family emergency,” Charlotte whispered to Sam.
“We’re on it. We’ll put Melanie next to the Panamanian defense minister and move Ralph into Melanie’s seat,” Sam said, turning her head to speak into her sleeve, where a two-way radio was hidden to allow her to communicate with the other staffers in charge of making sure the event came off smoothly.
“Thanks, Sam. Any other changes I should know about?” Charlotte asked.
“We can’t seem to find Mr. Kramer,” Sam said.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Melanie
Melanie walked into Washington’s Union Station just after six-thirty A.M. and strode purposefully through the lobby. She’d never seen the train station so empty, but none of the regulars took the Saturday regional train to New York City. Only someone trying to avoid lobbyists and reporters would travel the regional, and that was exactly Melanie’s hope. She purchased her ticket and made her way to the waiting area. She bought a large coffee and a bottle of water and unfolded the newspapers she had brought from home. The festive photos from the state dinner days earlier
“Yes. My wife. Stephanie found a lump in her breast, and we’re waiting to find out if it’s cancer.”
“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry. Is that why she isn’t here tonight? I feel awful. What can we do? Are you seeing the best doctors? Let’s go call her!”
Charlotte felt like an idiot for being demanding. She relied on Roger for so much that she felt a flash of anxiety that the center of his universe would be somewhere other than the work they were doing together.
“God, Roger, what are you doing here? Go home to Stephanie. Please. I need to go find my husband, anyway. We are supposed to pretend that we enjoy each other’s company on nights like tonight.”
“Charlotte, don’t,” Roger said.
“Don’t what?” Charlotte asked.
“Don’t act like I’ve rejected you and you don’t care. I have not rejected you, and I can see on your face that I have disappointed you, and I hate it. There is nowhere I’d rather be than with those guys—and with you—and you know it. But I need to be there for her. She was there for me, and I need to be there for her now.”
“Of course you do. I completely understand. I would do the same,” Charlotte said, forcing a smile.
He reached to pull her into a bear hug. She hugged him back.
“And that’s why I love you, Roger—you’re so decent. You always do the right thing. Stephanie is lucky.”
“So is Peter,” Roger said, but even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t a plausible statement.
Charlotte laughed. Roger just smiled at her and hugged her closer than he would have if anyone had been watching.
Charlotte took a deep breath and hugged him back for a few seconds before releasing him and pushing him away. “Go home. I insist. If I can’t handle the Panamanians on my own, we’ve got a very serious problem on our hands,” she said.
Roger laughed. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Yes. And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me right away. Please tell Stephanie that I’d like to come see her whenever she’s in the mood for a visitor.”
“Thanks, Charlotte. As soon as we get through this, you know I’ll be back one thousand percent.”
“I know.”
Roger turned to go, and she stood in the hall watching him walk toward the West Wing. Charlotte noticed that her guests had all migrated to the floor above, so she hurried upstairs to take her seat at the head table for dinner. She had no idea what was on the menu or who would provide the evening’s entertainment. Formal dinners were typically the responsibility of first ladies, but since she didn’t have anyone to fill that role, the White House social secretary made all the decisions. As she entered the Cross Hall at the top of the stairs, Sam appeared and gently directed her to her seat.
“Roger had to leave early for a family emergency,” Charlotte whispered to Sam.
“We’re on it. We’ll put Melanie next to the Panamanian defense minister and move Ralph into Melanie’s seat,” Sam said, turning her head to speak into her sleeve, where a two-way radio was hidden to allow her to communicate with the other staffers in charge of making sure the event came off smoothly.
“Thanks, Sam. Any other changes I should know about?” Charlotte asked.
“We can’t seem to find Mr. Kramer,” Sam said.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Melanie
Melanie walked into Washington’s Union Station just after six-thirty A.M. and strode purposefully through the lobby. She’d never seen the train station so empty, but none of the regulars took the Saturday regional train to New York City. Only someone trying to avoid lobbyists and reporters would travel the regional, and that was exactly Melanie’s hope. She purchased her ticket and made her way to the waiting area. She bought a large coffee and a bottle of water and unfolded the newspapers she had brought from home. The festive photos from the state dinner days earlier
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