“I’ll never forgive that woman for what she put me through,” Clete said. “I’ve known some irresponsible reporters, but she tops the heap. How in hell did she come up with that notion? What’s your version of the story, sweetheart?”
“What story? Oh, you mean about what happened at Highpoint? It’s foggy. I really don’t remember leaving. When I woke up, I was in my bed here, and George was telling me that I was going to feel much better soon.”
“And so you are.” David moved toward her, took her hand, and kissed her cheek. But Clete noticed that Vanessa quickly put space between them.
“George told me that my nurse had had a fatal heart attack. I felt sorry about that, although I hadn’t actually met her.” She readjusted a heavy charm bracelet on her slender wrist. “This thing’s bugging me.”
“What do you mean, you never met Mrs. Gaston?” Clete asked.
“Just what I said, Daddy. I can vaguely remember her voice, but I couldn’t pick her out of a crowd. I don’t remember anything about what she looked like. Maybe I’ll take this off.” She slid the bracelet off her wrist and dropped it onto the table with a clatter.
“George Allan led me to believe that the two of you had grown very close,” Clete said.
“George is right,” David said. “You just don’t remember, dear.”
“I never met her, David,” she insisted. “I ought to know if I did or I didn’t, and I didn’t. Why are you always correcting me? You always do that, and I hate it. It makes me feel stupid.”
“You’re not stupid.”
“You treat me like I am.”
“You were on medication, darling,” he said smoothly. “You became very attached to Mrs. Gaston, but because of the sedatives you were taking to help you rest, you don’t remember.”
“Okay, okay, whatever.” She waved her hands. “Jesus, I can’t believe she died right there at the foot of my bed. That grosses me out.” She replaced the bracelet on her wrist and shook it. “I love wearing this bracelet. I like the way the charms jangle. Like sleigh bells at Christmas.”
“Christmas will be here before we know it,” David said, smile in place again. “Then we’ll be ringing in the New Year. Election year. Let’s forget about Barrie Travis and the nurse and all the unhappy events of this year and concentrate on next.” He rubbed his hands together vigorously. “We’ve got a lot of campaign plans to make.”
“I don’t want to think about that yet.”
Taking the cue from his daughter, Clete said, “I agree, David. I think you’re jumping the gun a little. Let’s get Vanessa hale and hearty first. There’s plenty of time to make campaign plans.”
“It’s never too early to plan.”
Vanessa began wringing her hands. “Just the thought of it… Listen, David, I feel much better than I have in a long time, but I don
’t think I’m up to appearing at the press conference this morning.”
Clete had been shocked to learn that a press conference was scheduled for eleven o’clock in the East Room. Vanessa was expected to attend. Her stylist had been summoned to the White House. She’d done wonders with Vanessa’s hair and makeup, but her skilled efforts hadn’t completely hidden the dark circles beneath Vanessa’s eyes, or the gauntness of her cheeks.
“Why do I have to be there?” she asked anxiously.
“It’ll only last a few minutes,” David said.
“That’s no answer,” Clete said. “Why’s it necessary that she be there?”
Tightly, David replied, “Because Vanessa dragged Barrie Travis into our lives, that’s why. That’s when all this started, and it culminated with that debacle in the emergency room. Rumors are flying fast and furious. The only way we can quell them is to address Mrs. Gaston’s death and explain exactly what happened.
“Besides, the people have missed seeing their First Lady. You’ve received thousands of cards and letters wishing you a speedy recovery. They can’t go unacknowledged, Vanessa.”
“Of course I’ll acknowledge them. I’ll get my staff on it right away. But can’t we delay the press conference? Just for a few days?”
“It’s already scheduled,” David snapped. “Dalton would have a fit. Besides, if we cancel now, it’ll only generate more speculation on why you were at Highpoint under the care of a private nurse. I can’t afford any more negative press. Haven’t you already cost me enough?”
“David!” Clete bellowed. “For God’s sake.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry. That was a terrible thing to say. I didn’t mean it.” He approached his wife, this time placing his hands on her shoulders. Clete could have sworn that she actually recoiled. “We’ve all been under a tremendous strain, but you more than anyone,” he said gently. “Skip the press conference today if you want. It isn’t that important. I shouldn’t have insisted that you appear if you don’t feel up to it.”
Vanessa looked quickly toward her father, who saw in his daughter’s eyes panic and helplessness. But she said, “No, David, I’ll be there. It’s my duty as First Lady.”