True Courage, page 13
“What kind?”
“What kind of ice cream?”
“Yeah. Tell me what kind of ice cream you’re eating.”
“It’s salted caramel. Katie doesn’t care for it, but I’m finding it just the right balance between salty and sweet.”
“I think you should stay in the Lincoln Bedroom.”
She chuckled. “No, I’m spending my overnight shift in the room next to Katie’s. The pink bedroom.”
“Used to be Caroline Kennedy’s room, and Lucy Johnson’s.”
“That’s right.”
“Watch out for ghosts.”
“Ghosts?”
“Yeah. The damn place is full of ’em.”
“I’ll keep an eye out, sir.”
“And quit calling me ‘sir.’”
“Yes, sir, I’ll keep that in mind.”
That warm laugh again infected her voice, and Adam wished he were there, 4,000 miles away, without a plenary meeting to attend.
“I have to go. I’m supposed to be having cocktails with the other leaders.”
“Of course.”
“The French president keeps hitting on me. I think you should tell your buddies on my detail to cover my ass when she’s around. She keeps sticking her hands where they don’t belong.”
“She keeps what?”
“You know, flicking off pieces of lint, things like that. She’s a very hands-on president.”
Ellie laughed. “That sounds…”
“Strange. I know. I’m thinking of starting an international incident over it. We let the French start trespassing over our borders, the next thing you know we’ll be eating horses and aubergines.”
“But I hear they have very good…cake.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s not as good as the cake at the White House.”
There was silence on the line, a silence filled with images of cake and blushes and completely inappropriate flirting. Adam cleared his throat. “I’ll be blowing this joint early. Skip the meeting with Japan’s PM. He’ll understand; he has kids.”
“You don’t have to. She’s fine…”
He ignored her. “I should be getting into Andrews around ten tomorrow night, back at the residence by eleven. Unless there’s traffic.”
She laughed. They both knew Marine One didn’t have to worry about traffic. “I’ll tell Katie.”
“And hey…take some time off. You’ve earned it.”
“Right. I’ll put it on my schedule.”
“See you tomorrow night, Ellie.”
The line went dead, but Adam held the phone to his ear a bit longer. It would keep his aides from hurrying over, ushering him into the next meeting.
He didn’t want the sound of Ellie’s voice to fade just yet. He felt like an infatuated teenager, flirting with a pretty girl during recess.
But this pretty girl was responsible for keeping his daughter safe, and once again, she’d done that. The last thing he should be doing was imagining conversations with her, over a glass of wine and dinner prepared by the White House chef.
“Mr. President, they’re wrapping up and want to hear your thoughts on the proposed agreement.” His foreign policy adviser was looking worried.
“I’ll be right there.”
Adam sighed. Three more years of this, and then he was handing it off to a real politician, someone who actually wanted the job, and the responsibilities—not to mention the headaches—that came with it. By then the political parties would have their act together, and the country wouldn’t suffer from a president who just wanted to concentrate on boinking his daughter’s protective service agent.
Next to him, he could swear Churchill growled a laugh.
Chapter Fifteen
Katie yawned and picked up the latest manga book that had arrived in the mail. School was still closed, since they didn’t want anyone else to get stabbed, and as much as she enjoyed not being in school every day, she could seriously use some mental enrichment.
Mrs. Torres was in her room on the third floor, next to the White House gym. The latest manga featured two characters who were just about to get all romantic. Katie wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Kissing and stuff was for girls who had breasts, and Katie so far had been overlooked by the Breast Gods.
She wondered if it was hereditary. Had her mother gotten breasts when she was fourteen? What if she never got any, and she turned out to be a flat-chested freak of nature? That would suck. Even though she wasn’t sure what she’d do with them if she got them, it must be nice to at least look like other girls her age. A normal girl.
“Hey, Katie, dinner’s ready.” Agent Brody stuck her head in the door. So far the agents had pretty much left her alone, but Katie was so bored she’d even welcome the agents’ overly polite conversation attempts. “Mrs. Torres gave the chef her recipe for enchiladas. She said it was your favorite.”
“Oh. Well, they’re pretty fattening, aren’t they?”
“Are you worried about gaining weight?”
Katie thought about it. What if she had inherited fat genes, along with no-breast genes? “Maybe,” she replied. “What if I’m genetically inclined to be overweight?”
Ellie laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”
“What if my mother was fat? I could have inherited the condition and not even know about it.”
“The photos I’ve seen of her, she was tall and slim.”
“But what if she got fat in her old age? What if she got some incurable disease that I’ll inherit?”
“That’s always possible, but I don’t think you should worry about having enchiladas tonight.”
“What if I hurl again?”
“Do you feel sick? Have a fever? I can call the doctor—there’s always someone in the medical office downstairs.”
“No, but I might feel sick if you guys extract me from here like you did at school.” Katie knew a winning hand when she was dealt one, and she didn’t intend to let them forget about it.
“We’re not going to extract you from the executive mansion. It’s the safest building on earth.”
“What if there are terrorists on the way over?”
“Then we’d take you down to the PEOC. They won’t get in there. And then we’d call for air support, the terrorists would be neutralized, and we’d go back to the dining room for enchiladas. Which by now would be cold.”
Katie winced, but not at the thought of cold enchiladas. The shooting pain in her stomach she’d noticed before was back.
Ellie sat down on the bed. “Are you really feeling okay, Katie? Or is something else going on?”
She avoided her eyes. “I don’t know. I have…a funny feeling in my stomach. Not like a stomachache.”
“Do you have cramps?”
“What are those?”
“Menstrual cramps. When you have your period.”
Katie picked at the edge of the pillow she’d stuffed over her stomach to stop the pains. “I don’t know.”
“If you’re having your period and your stomach is hurting, it’s a good bet it’s cramps. I can call the doctor; he can prescribe something.”
Katie looked at her in horror. “No! I don’t want to talk to a doctor about stuff like that!”
“Do you have any Midol? Ibuprofen?”
“No, my dad doesn’t know about things like Midol.”
“Well, fortunately I do, and I have some in my purse. I’ll get you a couple.”
Ellie—she had told Katie to call her that, when they were in the residence—left the room. Katie leaned back against the bed. Having a period really sucked, especially since it didn’t seem to be part of a deal where you got breasts at the same time.
Life was so not fair.
* * *
Ellie went downstairs and got the medicine from her handbag. She told the staff to hold dinner for thirty minutes, then asked Mrs. Torres for a heating pad.
She tried to remember what her mother had given her for cramps. A warm compress usually did the trick, though once her mother had poured her a dram of whiskey. That probably wouldn’t be a good idea, giving her underage protectee a shot of spirits.
When she got back to Katie’s room, Katie was stroking Chloe, a pinched look on her face. She wasn’t faking it; the girl was in pain. Ellie felt a stab of sympathy. Cramps were no fun.
“Here, take two of these with some water. That should take the edge off. If it doesn’t, I think we should call the medical office. There’s usually a female nurse on duty who could see you.”
Katie took the pills and swallowed them.
Ellie took the glass from her. “I used to get those sometimes when I first started getting my period. It hurts like hell, but the good news is most people outgrow them.”
“I just want it to go away,” Katie mumbled, sliding back against the pillows.
Ellie sat next to her. “Yeah. That’s pretty much every girl’s reaction. But you’ll get used to it. And it only comes around once a month.”
“I’m planning to get pregnant.” Katie winced. “As soon as possible.”
Ellie laughed. “It’s not worth it. Labor is pretty hard, I hear.”
Katie closed her eyes, the tight expression on her face easing.
“You want me to leave you alone?” Ellie half-hoped she’d say yes. Adolescent menstrual cramps weren’t exactly a threat she’d been trained to deal with.
“No. Stay here. Talking keeps my mind off the excruciating pain.”
At least she hadn’t lost her edge. “I think we should have a doctor look at you. There may be something else going on.”
Katie’s eyes widened. “I don’t want anyone looking at me!” Her voice broke.
“All right, but if our home remedies don’t help, I think we should get a nurse up here. Lieutenant Merada might know of something stronger.”
Like whiskey.
“Do you think I’ll ever get breasts?”
Ellie almost choked. “You want…to get breasts? You’re only fourteen.”
“I’m almost fifteen.”
“Then you’ll probably get them soon. Breasts are overrated. Trust me.”
“Boys don’t think so.”
“True. But maybe the right kind of boys aren’t so hung up on—a girl’s breasts.”
Katie gave her a look. “Right. Like they like me for my brains. That’s so not true.” She sighed, twirling a lock of hair around her index finger. Ellie had noticed she did that when she was worried.
“It will be. Eventually.”
“Like when I’m in college.”
“You’ve got a lot going for you, in addition to brains. You’re creative, funny…” Ellie cast around. What would cheer up a lonely, cramp-afflicted teenager? She saw the notebook full of the figures Katie drew when she was bored in class. “You’re artistic. You could probably get a job one day drawing those comics you like to read.”
“It’s called manga. It’s Japanese.”
Ellie picked up the book next to the bed, flipped through it. She stopped at a page with a sword-wielding character with a fierce grimace that made him look like he had just pulled a groin muscle. “What’s this one about?”
“It’s about a girl who’s an orphan, and she has a protector named Yukio. He appears when she’s about to be killed by the alien forces who murdered her parents.”
“Sounds interesting. I bet it’s hard to wield a sword in that outfit though.”
Katie tucked her hair behind an ear. “You’re taking it too literally. You need to have an imagination to read manga.”
“I guess so.” Ellie put the book down on the nightstand. “I saw that they were starting a manga club at school. I bet if you wanted to stay after school it wouldn’t be a problem.”
Katie frowned. “It’s that volunteer, Margery. She keeps trying to improve the lives of underprivileged kids. I think she’s faking it.”
Ellie smiled. “Well, it still sounds like fun.” She didn’t want to push too hard, but if Katie were to join an after-school club, she’d surely find kids who shared her interests, maybe a genuine friend or two. She pretended a look of concern. “But maybe it would be too much for you, with your honors classes. I know you have to spend a lot of time on homework.”
Reverse Psychology 101.
“Maybe.”
“When your dad gets home, you can talk to him about it. He might not want you involved in any after-school activities.” Was she laying it on too thick?
Katie didn’t notice. “My dad wants me to grow up in a virtual reality simulation.”
Ellie smiled. “I’ll talk to him. If you want to join manga club, I think I can convince him. Unless you’ve got your heart set on chess club.”
Katie rolled her eyes, and Ellie silently ticked a mark on her scorecard. Reverse psychology, for the win.
She couldn’t wait to tell Adam…wait. When had she started thinking of the president as Adam? She had to admit, she’d been thinking of him that way for a long time.
And that didn’t count the times she thought of him entirely inappropriately.
Katie yawned. Probably the Midol kicking in.
“How are the cramps? Still want to curl up in a ball and die?”
“Maybe after I eat Mrs. Torres’s enchiladas.”
Chapter Sixteen
Marine One was on its way. It was due to touch down on the South Lawn in thirteen minutes. Ellie was ready to go, but she wanted to wait and speak to the president personally. She didn’t want to pass her concerns about Katie to another agent; plus, she’d promised Katie she’d brief her father herself.
Ellie wasn’t looking forward to telling the president his daughter was suffering from menstrual cramps, but someone had to do it, and she’d been trained to be brave in the face of—well, embarrassment.
She could hear the choppers in the distance, one a decoy that would peel away at the last minute as the real Marine One landed.
From the half-moon window facing the West Wing, she saw the Prowler unit taking their places on the lawn. They’d be monitoring the perimeter of the White House lawn during the Marine One landing—takeoffs and landings were the riskiest moments of presidential travel.
Ellie checked on Katie one more time. She was asleep, tucked into a fetal position, an open comic book on her bedside table. And, Ellie noticed, the prickliest teenager in the world slept with a nightlight. Ellie smiled and shut her door quietly. Was that warmth she felt, that tug at her heartstrings, possibly a long-dormant maternal feeling?
She remembered her dad’s advice: don’t get too close to the protectees. At the time, she hadn’t thought that a problem, but now she realized the wisdom of her father’s words.
She was just doing her job, she told herself. And if the president’s daughter had a medical condition that caused her to curl up in pain, some sympathy wasn’t out of order.
In the sitting room, she turned on the TV and switched the channel to CNN. They were covering the aftermath of the G20 meeting. She saw footage of Adam, boarding the plane at the RAF base in England. Adam. She had to quit thinking of him that way.
Because getting too close to the protectee’s father definitely was against the rules.
* * *
An usher met Adam in the central hall and took his coat. “Good evening, sir. Hope you had a nice flight into Andrews.”
Adam loosened his tie. “It was too nice—Air Force One is like a flying five-star hotel. I managed to sleep more than I’d have liked. Maybe a nightcap is in order.”
“Certainly. What would you like?”
Adam gave him a wry smile. “I’d like a bourbon, but let’s make it hot cocoa.”
From his pockets he removed the wallet he rarely used, the panic button he kept with him whenever he left the residence, and an assortment of notes that had been pressed into his palm as he shook hands with service members’ families before leaving the American air base in England. He’d read them later on the plane. Some were notes of encouragement, including one from a mom whose husband had been deployed for six months. She thought he needed to get tougher with Katie.
Adam walked down the central hallway, toward the sitting room where he could hear murmurs coming from the TV. He stopped at the wide doorway. Ellie looked up from the plaid sofa and lowered the volume on the television.
“I heard you were back. Welcome home.” She nodded toward the screen, where they were showing footage from the G20. “Looks like it was a success. Congratulations.”
Adam glanced at the TV, then back at her. She wore jeans, casual clothes that reminded him she was a normal woman, with a normal life outside her White House duties. And she’d stayed here to keep an eye on his daughter, when she could have been—should have been—enjoying her off-duty hours, somewhere else. With someone else.
She stood up, stuffing her fingers in her pockets.
“Ellie, I want to thank you for staying. You didn’t have to—”
She shrugged. “I know. But Katie needed someone here who wasn’t three times her age.”
“She’s okay?”
“Yeah. She’s asleep. I gave her some Midol.”
“Midol? Isn’t that…”
“Yes, it’s for menstrual cramps. Apparently she’s had them before. You did know she’s gotten her period, didn’t you?”
Adam swerved his gaze toward the television, the flower arrangement, anywhere... “Well, I guess I did. I mean, she didn’t exactly tell me—”
“You mean she didn’t have anyone to talk to about the fact her body was acting weird once a month, and she felt all gross and icky and wanted to die of embarrassment every time she had to dart into the bathroom to change a tampon?”
Adam wished CNN hadn’t just switched to a commercial break. He couldn’t pretend to be interested in their program. “Uh, no, we didn’t have that conversation. I did notice she was ordering feminine hygiene products from the online supermarket we order from.”
“Oh, Adam.” Ellie gave him a look of disappointment. She probably didn’t notice she’d used his name, and Adam wasn’t about to bring it up. “Poor Katie. It was hard enough for me, and I had a mom to talk to about it.”
