The Best Laid Plans

Chapter 13

The inaugural celebrations, the parades, and the swearing-in ceremonies were over, and Oliver was eager to begin his presidency. Washington, D.C., was probably the only city anywhere completely devoted to and obsessed with politics. It was the power hub of the world, and Oliver Russell was the center of that hub. It seemed that everyone was connected in one way or another to the federal government. In the metropolitan area of Washington, there were fifteen thousand lobbyists and more than five thousand journalists, all of them nursing at the mother's milk of government. Oliver Russell remembered John Kennedy's sly put-down: "Washington, D.C., is a city of southern efficiency and northern charm."

On the first day of his presidency, Oliver wandered around the White House with Jan. They were familiar with its statistics: 132 rooms, 32 bathrooms, 29 fireplaces, 3 elevators, a swimming pool, putting green, tennis court, jogging track, exercise room, horseshoe pit, bowling alley, and movie theater, and eighteen acres of beautifully tended grounds. But actually living in it, being a part of it, was overwhelming.

"It's like a dream, isn't it?" Jan sighed.

Oliver took her hand. "I'm glad we're sharing it, darling." And he meant it. Jan had become a wonderful companion. She was always there for him, supportive and caring. More and more, he found that he enjoyed being with her.

When Oliver returned to the Oval Office, Peter Tager was waiting to see him. Oliver's first appointment had been to make Tager his chief of staff.

Oliver said, "I still can't believe this, Peter."

Peter Tager smiled. "The people believe it. They voted you in, Mr. President."

Oliver looked up at him. "It's still Oliver."

"All right. When we're alone. But you have to realize that from this moment on, anything you do can affect the entire world. Anything you say could shake up the economy or have an impact on a hundred other countries around the globe. You have more power than any other person in the world."

The intercom buzzed. "Mr. President, Senator Davis is here."

"Send him in, Heather."

Tager sighed. "I'd better get started. My desk looks like a paper mountain."

The door opened and Todd Davis walked in. "Peter..."

"Senator..." The two men shook hands.

Tager said, "I'll see you later, Mr. President."

Senator Davis walked over to Oliver's desk and nodded. "That desk fits you just fine, Oliver. I can't tell you what a real thrill it is for me to see you sitting there."

"Thank you, Todd. I'm still trying to get used to it. I mean - Adams sat here...and Lincoln...and Roosevelt..."

Senator Davis laughed. "Don't let that scare you. Before they became legends, they were men just like you, sitting there trying to do the right thing. Putting their asses in that chair terrified them all, in the beginning. I just left Jan. She's in seventh heaven. She's going to make a great First Lady."

"I know she is."

"By the way, I have a little list here I'd like to discuss with you, Mr. President." The emphasis on "Mr. President" was jovial.

"Of course, Todd."

Senator Davis slid the list across the desk.

"What is this?"

"Just a few suggestions I have for your cabinet."

"Oh. Well, I've already decided - "

"I thought you might want to look these over."

"But there's no point in - "

"Look them over, Oliver." The senator's voice had cooled.

Oliver's eyes narrowed. "Todd..."

Senator Davis held up a hand. "Oliver, I don't want you to think for one minute that I'm trying to impose my will or my wishes on you. You would be wrong. I put together that list because I think they're the best men who can help you serve your country. I'm a patriot, Oliver, and I'm not ashamed of it. This country means everything to me." There was a catch in his voice. "Everything. If you think I helped put you in this office just because you're my son-in-law, you're gravely mistaken. I fought to make sure you got here because I firmly believe you're the man best suited for the job. That's what I care most about." He tapped a finger on the piece of paper. "And these men can help you do that job."

Oliver sat there, silent.

"I've been in this town for a lot of years, Oliver. And do you know what I've learned? That there's nothing sadder than a one-term president. And do you know why? Because during the first four years, he's just beginning to get an idea of what he can do to make this country better. He has all those dreams to fulfill. And just when he's ready to do that - just when he's ready to really make a difference" - he glanced around the office - "someone else moves in here, and those dreams just vanish. Sad to think about, isn't it? All those men with grand dreams who serve only one term. Did you know that since McKinley took office in 1897, more than half the presidents who followed him were one-term presidents? But you, Oliver - I'm going to see to it that you're a two-term president. I want you to be able to fulfill all your dreams. I'm going to see to it that you're reelected."

Senator Davis looked at his watch and rose. "I have to go. We have a quorum call at the Senate. I'll see you at dinner tonight." He walked out the door.

Oliver looked after him for a long time. Then he reached down and picked up the list Senator Todd Davis had left.

In his dream, Miriam Friedland awakened and sat up in bed. A policeman was at her bedside. He looked down at her and said, "Now you can tell us who did this to you."

"Yes."

He woke up, soaked in perspiration.

Early the following morning, Oliver telephoned the hospital where Miriam was.

"I'm afraid there's no change, Mr. President," the chief of staff told him. "Frankly, it doesn't look good."

Oliver said hesitantly, "She has no family. If you don't think she's going to make it, would it be more humane to take her off the life-support systems?"

"I think we should wait a little while longer and see what happens," the doctor said. "Sometimes there's a miracle."

Jay Perkins, chief of protocol, was briefing the president. "There are one hundred and forty-seven diplomatic missions in Washington, Mr. President. The blue book - the Diplomatic List - lists the name of every representative of a foreign government and spouse. The green book - the Social List - names the top diplomats, Washington residents, and members of Congress."

He handed Oliver several sheets of paper. "This is a list of the potential foreign ambassadors you will receive."

Oliver looked down the list and found the Italian ambassador and his wife: Atilio Picone and Sylva. Sylva. Oliver asked innocently, "Will they bring their wives with them?"

"No. The wives will be introduced later. I would suggest that you begin seeing the candidates as quickly as possible."

"Fine."

Perkins said, "I'll try to arrange it so that by next Saturday, all the foreign ambassadors will be accredited. You might want to consider having a White House dinner to honor them."

"Good idea." Oliver glanced again at the list on his desk. Atilio and Sylva Picone.

Saturday evening, the State Dining Room was decorated with flags from the various countries represented by the foreign ambassadors. Oliver had spoken with Atilio Picone two days earlier when he had presented his credence papers.

"How is Mrs. Picone?" Oliver had asked.

There was a small pause. "My wife is fine. Thank you, Mr. President."

The dinner was going beautifully. Oliver went from table to table, chatting with his guests and charming them all. Some of the most important people in the world were gathered in that room.

Oliver Russell approached three ladies who were socially prominent and married to important men. But they were movers and shakers in their own right. "Leonore...Dolores...Carol..."

As Oliver was making his way across the room, Sylva Picone went up to him and held out her hand. "This is a moment I've been looking forward to." Her eyes were sparkling.

"I, too," Oliver murmured.

"I knew you were going to be elected." It was almost a whisper.

"Can we talk later?"

There was no hesitation. "Of course."

After dinner, there was dancing in the grand ballroom to the music of the Marine Band. Oliver watched Jan dancing, and he thought: What a beautiful woman. What a great body.

The evening was a huge success.

The following week, on the front page of the Washington Tribune, the headline blazed out: PRESIDENT ACCUSED OF CAMPAIGN FRAUD.

Oliver stared at it in disbelief. It was the worst timing possible. How could this have happened? And then he suddenly realized how it had happened. The answer was in front of him on the masthead of the newspaper: "Publisher, Leslie Stewart."

The following week, a front-page item in the Washington Tribune read: PRESIDENT TO BE QUESTIONE ABOUT FALSIFIED KENTUCKY STATE INCOME TAX RETURNS.

Two weeks later, another story appeared on the front page of the Tribune: FORMER ASSISTANT TO PRESIDENT RUSSELL PLANS TO FILE LAWSUIT CHARGING SEXUAL HARASSMENT.

The door to the Oval Office flew open and Jan walked in. "Have you seen the morning paper?"

"Yes, I - "

"How could you do this to us, Oliver? You - "

"Wait a minute! Don't you see what's happening, Jan? Leslie Stewart is behind it. I'm sure she bribed that woman to do this. She's trying to get her revenge because I jilted her for you. All right. She got it. It's over."

Senator Davis was on the telephone. "Oliver. I would like to see you in one hour."

"I'll be here, Todd."

Oliver was in the small library when Todd Davis arrived. Oliver rose to greet him. "Good morning."

"Like hell it's a good morning." Senator Davis's voice was filled with fury. "That woman is going to destroy us."