Beginning, Previous Section, Section III, Next Section

Chapter 9

Posted on 2014-04-24

Both the Gardiner and Zwillick campaigns are starting to suffer. Fatigue is to be expected when the primary contest drags on like this. But I think the Gardiner side is starting to lose its magic. I can't put my finger on why.

Andrew Jefferson, aka The Purple Politic, April 11, 2014

After her parents' divorce, Lizzy only got to spend a couple weeks a year with her father, except for the summer she spent in the Alps visiting him and his third wife. She spent much of her time sightseeing with her Swiss and French cousins, going to medieval castles and towns all around the region. It was an amazing experience for a sixteen-year-old, but even twelve years later, she was more likely to remember a conversation with her father than anything she saw.

He came to get her at the train station one afternoon (unusual, as she always walked to his apartment) and saw her first flirting with a local boy and then giggling with her female cousins about it. On the way home, he said to her, "Do not act like your mother, Élisée, or at least keep it out of my face." The rebuke was doubly stinging because he delivered it in English, instead of the French he almost always insisted upon.

"What do you mean, like my mother?" she'd asked.

"Chasing boys like it's an Olympic sport."

He refused to say more, even when Lizzy got past her mortification to ask what he meant. That night, she managed to speak to Valerie, her father's wife, a woman not that much older than her, really. Valerie only smiled sadly and said, "You are a very intelligent girl, Lizzy. Your father expects great things from you."

"My mother's written eleven bestsellers."

"Your father is a respected physicist. I am sure your mother is a lovely woman, but..."

"She's too wrapped up in girly things?"

Valerie shook her head. "She is not a physicist."

"Neither are you."

Lizzy wasn't surprised to hear six months later that her father had left Valerie.

She'd grown up hearing how much she was like her father, traits which seemed to drive her mother crazy at times. Her parents' divorce had been swift. Lizzy understood now that Thomas had a mistress and Fran had no intention of living with his infidelity. There was plenty of acrimony; ten years after the divorce, Lizzy could still see it.

Thomas Bennet was seemingly incapable of lasting relationships. Seven years with Fran was the longest he'd managed, as far as Lizzy knew. He'd been married and divorced four times. Lizzy was fairly sure that her adulthood reflected the worst of her parents' tendencies. She liked to flirt, liked pursuing and being pursued, maybe more than actual relationships. She'd never cheated on anyone, but she'd never stuck around for long either. At twenty-eight, she was beginning to think that didn't reflect well on her.

And then she met Will. He was handsome and infuriating and so well suited to her that she couldn't imagine why she hadn't seen him that way from the beginning. Of course, she had been attracted to him the minute he stepped into her office in Los Angeles. That they had lasted so long before one of them snapped was remarkable. Normally it wouldn't take her so long to make a move or move on.

That was Will, though. He was deliberate and careful in everything.

Seven weeks and four days had passed since Super Tuesday and Lizzy still hadn't heard from him. She talked to Jane and Richard occasionally, but curiously neither of them mentioned him at all. She was too embarrassed and too preoccupied with her mother to ask.

Fran's condition was exactly as the doctors predicted. For the first three weeks, she was only tired, with raspy, watery breathing and a bad cough. Not long after, she went downhill fast. It hurt Lizzy immeasurably to watch, but she loved her mother too much to step away.

They had conversations like nothing was wrong. They watched the news together and Lizzy pretended the election coverage wasn't killing her. At least Will hated being on camera, so the chance of seeing him was slim. It was a small mercy, as was Fran's ignorance of what had transpired.

But it turned out Fran wasn't as blind to it as Lizzy imagined. One evening they watched sitcoms indifferently until Fran turned the television off and sighed. "So are you going to tell me what's going on, Elizabeth?"

"What do you mean, Mom?"

"When you were a teenager I couldn't pry you away from the news. You talked politics so much that David worried about taking you with us when friends invited us for dinner. Now you turn away or change the channel when the election comes up." She coughed, and Lizzy watched in helpless worry until the fit subsided. "Lizzy," Fran continued, though somewhat out of breath, "you didn't have to give up your work to prove you love me."

"Mom," she protested, "you can't imagine I wouldn't be here for you now."

"I don't want you miserable. Now or when I'm gone."

Lizzy swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. "I don't have to have my dream job to be happy with my life. I was happy at Schierson even though I was bored."

"Then why..." Her mother frowned. "Lizzy, were you seeing someone?"

Blushing, she turned away. "Mom."

"You got involved with a coworker?"

"Yes," she admitted. "Someone I was working for. It was incredibly reckless. We... argued."

"Sweetheart, you argue with everyone."

Suddenly Lizzy laughed, when moments before she'd wanted to cry. "Yeah, we enjoyed arguing. But this was different. It was about us. He wanted to stop trying to keep it quiet. I thought it would end my career."

"And not his?"

She shrugged. "That's how the world works." Blinking back tears, she looked down at her hands. "I could accept that he didn't express himself well. I know he talks before he thinks sometimes."

"So why did it end?"

Lizzy didn't want to tell the truth, but for all that she was smarter than her mother, Fran had learned long ago to tell when she was lying. "David called, and Will never did."

Fran reached for Lizzy's hand, and Lizzy tried not to think about how cold her mother's skin was. "I'm sorry, Lizzy."

"I'm okay, Mom," Lizzy told her, not wanting her mother to go without knowing that she'd survive this. "Yeah, it hurt. It still hurts, if I'm honest. But it won't always."

"Oh, my sweet baby girl," Fran said with a sad smile. "Twenty-two years since I found out Thomas was cheating on me, and it still hurts."

"This wasn't like that."

"Pain doesn't have an expiration date, Lizzy. It changes, but some things never go away."

This time Lizzy didn't try to check her tears. "Sometimes I forget you have a way with words."

"Where do you think you got that from? Not from your father."

That set them both into a fit of giggles, and Lizzy clung to the hope that when it was all over, she would remember the laughter more than the tears.

That night, she lay awake in her old bedroom thinking about what her mother said. Some days she was still furious with Will, but most of the time it was just a dull, lingering pain. And why? Because he hadn't called? Because he'd insulted her? Why would it be worth her heartache?

Why would Fran still harbor that hurt from Thomas' betrayal? There was only one plausible explanation. Lizzy knew how much her mother loved David, but surely the pain wouldn't last this long if she didn't still love Thomas, even if only a little.

When Lizzy started crying again, she was grateful for the darkness and solitude of the night. She turned over to muffle the sound in her pillow. It all made sense now. It was why she hadn't lost interest in Will when he took things slow. It was why she was willing to abandon her professional scruples. It was why everything was different with him, even why seven weeks and four days of silence hurt so badly.

She was in love with him.

Richard was surprised when Chuck came to him with a draft of remarks for a fundraiser. Will normally handled these things, especially at this level, and Richard was happier not having to play critic to his cousin, who was a much better writer. He intended to give the text a cursory glance but paused when some of the phrases sank in. "This, uh, isn't your best work, Chuck," he said, trying to be diplomatic.

"It's not mine," the younger man replied. "Will wrote that."

"Will wrote this?"

"Yeah. He's in a real slump. I've been doing what I can to take up the slack, but we're hoping to have a convention speech to write this summer and it can't sound like this."

"Yeah, no," Richard agreed. "I'll try to come up with something, Chuck."

"Thanks."

Chuck took his tablet back, and Richard went looking for Jane a few minutes later. They were supposed to meet in the afternoon on another matter, and he was pretty sure she'd be ready for that meeting if he dropped by. She was really far too accommodating, but for now he'd take advantage.

They were practically camped out in Ohio in advance of the primary. Jane had her own office here, from which she was directing surrogates and volunteers alike. Since Super Tuesday they had raised enough money to hire a couple assistants for Jane, letting them do the advance work and freeing her to manage the campaign schedule, a task so complex there probably weren't more than a dozen people who could do it really well. Richard was still surprised sometimes that Jane started off as a volunteer.

They talked through the plans for the Texas primary and caucus, because Jane had the information at hand when he walked in. Then Richard turned his attention to the bigger problem. "Chuck showed me a draft Will was working on."

Jane frowned. "Me too. You think this is about Lizzy?"

"I haven't seen him smile since she left." Richard sat back in his seat and sighed. "I don't know. Maybe I should have told them to stop seeing each other."

"That's not really fair, Richard."

"I know, but I need Will to write things that aren't stuffed to the gills with dangling modifiers."

"Has he talked to you about her?"

"No. I tried a couple times, but he looked like he was coming up with ways to dispose of my body."

Jane cracked a smile despite their topic of conversation. "Lizzy's never mentioned him, but she's got other things on her mind." On the desk, a cell phone started buzzing, and Jane picked it up. "Speak of the devil," she said, answering it. "Hi, Lizzy. You're on speaker with Richard and me."

"Hi, Jane, Richard," Lizzy answered. She sounded not just tired but wrung out. "I just wanted you to know, we brought Mom to the hospital yesterday. She needs to be on oxygen and it... It's not going to be long."

"Lizzy, I'm so sorry," Jane replied.

Richard leaned toward the phone. "Is there anything we can do?"

"I don't know, but thank you, Richard. You've been incredibly kind already."

Jane grabbed a pen and paper. "Lizzy, give me the hospital and the room number. The Governor will want to call, and I know hospitals aren't always wild about cell phones."

As Lizzy gave the information, Richard looked over his shoulder and was startled to see Will in the open doorway. He looked absolutely shell-shocked as Jane wrapped up the call. Richard frowned at him, but Will didn't seem to notice.

"Is Lizzy sick?" he asked when Jane hung up.

Richard and Jane looked at each other with identical horrified expressions. "You didn't know?" Jane said.

Will stepped into the office, clearly almost terrified. "What's wrong with her?"

"Will," Richard said, getting up, "it's not Lizzy."

"What do you mean? That was her on the phone! She gave you a hospital room!"

"It's not Lizzy who's sick," Jane said, coming around the desk. "It's her mother. Her mother is dying."

"Her mother is... Her mother is dying," Will repeated. "That's why she left? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"We thought you knew," Richard said. "Why wouldn't you know?"

Will wiped his hand over his mouth, and Richard reached out to grab his cousin's shoulder. "We had a fight, she stormed off, and the next thing I knew, the Governor was announcing that Lizzy was taking a leave of absence."

"And you thought she left because of you?" Richard laughed mirthlessly. "Will, sometimes your ego is a thing to behold."

Will didn't have a clever rejoinder. Instead, he fled the room, leaving them to follow.

It was hard to keep up with him as he rushed through the headquarters like a man possessed. He was heading toward the Governor's office, and when Jane and Richard caught up to him, they were relieved to see the Governor was alone when Will barged in. "What's going on?" Governor Gardiner said, looking at the three of them before focusing on Will.

"Governor, I have to get to Chicago," he said.

She looked at him for a long moment, then back at Richard and Jane. "Can you provide some context?"

"He heard me talking to Lizzy about her mother," Jane replied.

Margaret's gaze snapped back to Will. "You didn't know," she said. "I'm sorry, Will. She asked me to keep it as private as possible. I never dreamed you didn't know."

Will sank into a chair and looked at the floor. "Ma'am, Lizzy and I were... involved. She was concerned about people finding out. I thought she was embarrassed."

"You'd had a fight when she left."

He nodded. "I never called her. She must think I'm a monster."

The Governor looked at Richard in silent question, and he nodded. "Give her our condolences, Will," she said. "For the record, I don't think there's any amount of groveling that would be too much."

Will got up and nodded again. "Thank you, ma'am."

He left without another word. A moment later, Jane said, "I'll get him a flight."

When she was gone, Richard closed the door and stood by it. "You knew about them?" Margaret asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"I assume this is why Will can't string two decent sentences together anymore."

"He's had slumps before, but probably."

Margaret sighed. "I hope he can fix this."

"Lizzy said her mother doesn't have much longer."

"His timing could be worse."

Richard shook his head. "Will lost his parents, too. He'll remember. And he'll find his voice again."

Despite the urgent need to see Lizzy, Will spent most of the trip to Chicago thinking about his parents. George and Anne had gone to a company party, leaving Gigi on her own at night for the first time. On their way home, they were hit by a drunken teenager who blew through a red light. Anne was declared dead on arrival at the hospital, and Will spent the entire flight across the country praying he would get there in time to say goodbye to his father. Then came the days of waiting with his sister for the inevitable to happen.

Once in Chicago he rented a car at the airport and drove nearly an hour to a hospital in the western suburbs. It was the middle of the afternoon and he was a little surprised by the volume of traffic. Along the way, he tried to think of what he would say when he found Lizzy, wondering if he should have had Jane warn Lizzy that he was coming. He wasn't sure that would make anything easier, but he was full of doubts.

After he parked in the garage, he began to feel something like panic. Was this really a good idea? He didn't know what he could say, let alone how she would react to seeing him again. For all that he could write, he'd never been good at talking. That was how he'd ended up in this predicament in the first place. Beyond the fear, though, he still ached for her, and needed to say something, even if she threw him out of her life for good afterward.

With that resolution to give him more courage than he really felt, Will went into the hospital lobby, consulted a directory, and found an elevator. The ride up to the fifth floor seemed to take an eternity, but when he finally stepped out of the elevator, he immediately found his quarry. Lizzy was waiting for the elevator.

She wasn't paying attention to her surroundings, hugging herself and looking out a window while waiting for him to get out. It seemed he was going to have to make the first move now too. "Lizzy," he said, surprised when his voice nearly cracked.

Her whole body went stiff, and he stepped out of the elevator just before the doors closed between them. "Lizzy," he repeated, barely above a whisper.

She turned slightly and looked up. "What are you doing?"

He took another step closer. "I... I needed to see you."

"No," she said, shaking her head. Her voice rose as she continued. "No. Two months ago, maybe, but now? Why are you... What kind of... What horrible excuse for a human being are you?"

"Lizzy..."

"No, you don't get to ride in here and apologize! It's been two months, Will! Where were you all this time?"

"Lizzy, I didn't know!" he said, words tumbling forth now. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Lizzy, but I didn't know until six hours ago. I heard you on the phone with Jane and that was the first I knew of it. I just got on a plane. I'm sorry. I didn't know." Please, please believe me, he silently added.

He couldn't tell what she was thinking, but she was trembling more and more as he spoke. Silence stretched between them as Will held his breath. Then Lizzy squeezed her eyes shut, bowed her head, and began to sob.

If he had taken a moment to think, he might not have closed the distance between them. He might not have pulled her into his arms or pressed a kiss to the top of her head while she cried. But for once he acted on instinct and didn't regret it. Lizzy leaned on him heavily and he held her, praying she wouldn't push him away.

He didn't know how long they stood there. When Lizzy stopped crying, she didn't move at first, and Will tried not to think of how good it was to hold her. Despite all his misplaced anger, he'd been unable to exorcise her from his imagination. He couldn't forget how she felt in his arms, the deep, aching need she could inspire just by smiling at him. But the last six hours had taught him he was still in love with her, and it wasn't just raw desire that had haunted him since she left.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and moved away. Will let her go, watching her carefully. She wiped her eyes and visibly swallowed. "Why are you here, Will?"

"I couldn't apologize for this over the phone," he said. "And the Governor told me there's no such thing as too much groveling."

She let out a quiet laugh, seeming to surprise herself with it. "She's a smart woman."

"Yeah, she is." Will reached to touch her cheek, brushing tears away. "Lizzy."

"Will, I..."

He let his hand drop away and gestured to the elevator. "You were going somewhere."

She nodded. "There's a coffee shop downstairs."

"Can I come with you?"

Something like the familiar light was back in her eyes, if only for a moment. "I'm sure you can, Darcy."

He laughed and hit the button for the elevator. "Come along, Elizabeth."

They didn't have to wait long, and as they stepped into the car, Lizzy took his hand lightly. Will looked down but held his tongue. "We're not okay," she said quietly, dropping his hand. "I don't know if we'll ever be okay. But thank you for coming."

"Always, Lizzy," he told her as the elevator started down. "Always, no matter where you are."

She bit down on her lower lip as it started to tremble. They weren't okay, and Will could accept it was going to take a lot of time and a lot of work if they were ever going to be okay. Still, he put his arm around her shoulders, holding her close, relieved when she leaned into him again, this time without tears.

As they walked to the coffee shop, he talked about the campaign, telling her about the people and other things she wouldn't have heard on the news. She asked how they were feeling about Ohio and Texas, what their plans were for the rest of the primaries, and what the general mood in the campaign was about their chances. He had questions too, but as they headed to the oncology ward, he knew he would have answers about her mother soon enough.

While they sipped their coffee, waiting again for the elevator, he stared at her, realizing he missed this too. He saw how she blushed when she sensed he was watching her. "Is there something on my face?" she asked, glancing at him.

He shook his head. "You cut your hair."

"Yeah, a couple weeks ago." She touched her bob self-consciously. "I donated twelve inches of it."

Will had wanted to complain; he loved the feel of her long hair in his hands, against his skin. But with that explanation he couldn't fault her.

Neither of them said anything else until they were back on the fifth floor. By then Lizzy was fidgeting, and it surely wasn't the caffeine. "Look, Will, Mom is... getting worse fast. This isn't..."

An image of his father in intensive care flashed through his mind. "It's all right. I know it's not..." He trailed off, wondering how much he should tell her. "You know about my parents, right?"

"You told me they died in a car crash."

Will nodded. "My family was incredibly supportive, but everyone had lost a daughter or a nephew or a cousin. There wasn't anyone close to me who wasn't drowning in grief too. It sounds selfish, but..."

"You really didn't have anyone outside your family?"

He recalled a conversation from months ago, not long before Nashua. "How many people do you really love, Lizzy?" She looked down at their shoes, but he gently tipped her chin up again. "My point is, I've been here. I'm not sure how much I can help, but I want to. It's the least I can do."

She nodded. "I told Mom about you. She may not be happy to meet you."

"Well, I deserve it."

She didn't disagree.

When they reached the room, Will wasn't surprised Lizzy had such trouble describing her mother's condition. Fran was beyond thin and hooked up to countless machines. Will could sense the way Lizzy steeled herself as they entered the room, and he wondered if he would have handled it half as well if he'd been in this position when his parents died.

There were four other adults in the room. The men he took to be Lizzy's stepfather and stepbrothers. They all looked up when Lizzy returned with a stranger. "Lizzy?" the older man said. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I, uh, a friend from the campaign stopped by," she said. "This is Will Darcy. Will, my stepfather, David Ostrowski, my stepbrothers, Caleb and Joe, and Caleb's wife Joanna."

"Good to meet you," Will said, nodding to them.

Lizzy moved to her mother's side and touched her hand very gently. "Mom?" she said, and her mother turned her head slightly to look at her. Lizzy glanced back at Will quickly, and he took that as his cue to step forward. "Mom, this is Will. Will, Fran Bennet."

Fran looked past Lizzy to Will, then reached to lift up her oxygen mask. "He's a very handsome man, Lizzy."

She laughed. "Yes, yes, he is," she agreed, and Will found his ears getting hot.

"Finally saw fit to call?" the older woman asked. Her breathing had a distinct rattle, something that called to mind his father's last hours.

"I'm sorry for upsetting your daughter so much, ma'am," he replied, figuring it couldn't hurt to grovel to Lizzy's mother too. "I came as soon as I heard."

"Well, if she can forgive you, I suppose I can."

He smiled, and without thinking too much he brushed his fingers against the back of Lizzy's hand. When she grasped his hand, he felt more content than he had in months.

As the day progressed, Fran seemed to rouse. She adjusted the bed to sit up; her cough didn't abate and she still needed the oxygen mask, but she talked more with the family than Will expected. But Lizzy and the rest didn't seem as cheered by this as he would have thought. He would have felt like an intruder in any case, but he was certainly missing something.

That evening he went with Lizzy's sister-in-law Joanna to pick up her daughter and get dinner for everyone. The girl was sweet and charming, reminding him a little of the Gardiners' daughter and more than a little of his own sister. She was too young to understand what was going on, but she seemed to buoy the spirits of the room when they arrived.

Evening turned to night, and Will settled at Lizzy's side. Across from him Joanna had her daughter in her lap, Caleb and Joe on either side with David across from Lizzy at the head of the bed. Joanna was from California and met Caleb at Berkeley, so Will found he had something to talk about as Fran grew quiet.

It was hard not to think of sitting with Gigi, watching their father's life slip away over the course of days. This vigil was comparatively brief. Lizzy and Fran talked about Fran's first days in Switzerland and Lizzy's first days in America. Fran fell asleep holding Lizzy's hand, and eventually the alarms went off.

Nurses and a doctor swarmed in. Will pulled Lizzy to her feet and away from the bed. She was shaking her head as he held her back. He tried to reassure her, head bent low to murmur in her ear while he rubbed her shoulders. She leaned back against him as the alarms kept going. Will slipped his arms around her waist and kept silent.

It was over in a few minutes. The doctor declared a time of death and told the family to take their time. Will let go of Lizzy when she tried to move away, and she went back to her chair, taking her mother's hand and sobbing with her head down on the mattress.

Will felt a tightness in his throat as he watched her. At first he reached down and stroked her hair, knowing from experience she needed a connection with the living now. He looked to the other side of the room and met David's gaze. He was crying, one of his sons embracing him, and he nodded at Will. Taking it as a cue to take care of Lizzy, Will sat down beside her again, first just holding her free hand, and then leaning down with her, embracing her as best he could, trying to give her comfort.

It wasn't enough, and there was nothing he could do to make it better. That much he remembered. But he would try, and in the end he knew that was all he could do.

It was well past midnight before they left the hospital. Will followed the others to the Ostrowski house. David insisted he stay with them instead of trying to find a hotel room at that hour. Lizzy was about to collect linens for the guest room until Will stayed her. "Lizzy, I can shift for myself," he said gently, catching her hands. "Just tell me where to go."

He'd chosen the wrong place to stop her. They were at the end of the hallway at the back of the house, with family pictures hung on either side. Lizzy looked around at the images and burst into tears.

Will pulled her close, one hand cupping the back of her head while she cried and cried against his chest. He rested his cheek against her hair, trying to stop the powerful trembling in his own body. At the hospital he'd tried to keep this at bay, but it was too much. Twelve years had passed and he still felt all the force of his parents' deaths. In another twelve years he imagined he would still feel it just as vividly: the shock, the anger that he couldn't do anything, the fear of the huge responsibility left on his shoulders. For a moment, he needed Lizzy at least as much as she needed him.

When he calmed himself a little, he kissed the top of her head, her temple, her cheek. He would have stopped there, but Lizzy lifted her head and looked at him. Her face was tear-streaked, her eyes red, and he had never seen a woman more beautiful than the one in his arms. He leaned in and she met him halfway.

When they'd kissed before, things always started out slow, even sweet, but not tonight. They were both too raw for gentleness. Lizzy's tongue was in his mouth almost immediately, making him groan. Her hands grabbed his hair, holding him in place, as though there was a chance of him pushing her away. He touched her restlessly, until finally he grabbed her hips and pushed her back into the wall with a soft thud.

He knew this was dangerous even before she shifted her body against his and made him moan again. He knew he needed to stop, but it was the sound of footsteps on the stairs that made him pull away. Lizzy looked up at him with dark eyes and pulled him into the nearest room, which he realized was hers, once he could think past the fog of raw need.

"Lizzy," he breathed, touching her cheek and resting his forehead against hers while he kicked the door closed. "Lizzy, darlin', I didn't come here for this."

Belatedly he remembered her words in Nashua, and he could have kicked himself. Fortunately Lizzy had mercy on him. "I know," she replied in kind. "And I didn't--I don't..."

"It's okay, sweetheart. I know we're not okay." He kissed her chastely, while struggling to keep his hands from wandering.

"I don't want to be alone tonight," she said in a small voice, with new tears in her eyes.

"Then let me stay. I can sleep in a chair if you want."

That almost got her to smile. "In the rolly chair?" she asked, nodding toward a desk in the corner.

"Okay, maybe not in a chair," he replied, rolling his eyes.

She didn't say anything more. Taking his hand, she led him to her bed, where they settled together on top of the covers. Will held her close, her body spooned against his. He listened as her breathing slowed and felt her body relax in his arms. Then he pressed one last kiss to her shoulder and whispered, "I love you."

Chapter 10

Posted on 2014-04-28

Fran Bennet, author, 1964-2014

Frances Julia Ostrowski lived a life worthy of the romance novels that bear her pen name. At the age of twenty she met and married the noted Swiss physicist Thomas Bennet, with whom she had her only child, Elizabeth. She lived in Geneva, Switzerland for seven years before divorcing Bennet and moving back to Chicago with her daughter. Then, three years later she married David Ostrowski and became stepmother to his sons, Caleb and Joseph. These ten years of her life became the basis of her first two bestselling novels, books that bucked the traditions of the industry of romance novels.

A week after burying her mother, and three days before the Texas madness, Lizzy rejoined Gardiner for America.

The morning after Fran's death, Lizzy woke early, a little surprised to find herself still in Will's arms. It was a familiar feeling, yet at the same time, she could hardly remember what it was like before. The last two months had left her utterly spent. Will's actions probably would have astonished her, if only she'd been able to feel much of anything other than the dread of impending loss.

He stayed in Geneva four days. He didn't try to talk about their relationship, just helped her and her family. To her immense surprise, he talked to all of them and to many of the neighbors and friends who came by to offer condolences. On the second day, he came to Lizzy and David with a draft of an obituary.

During her absence, Lizzy paid enough attention to the campaign to suspect Will was going through a rough phase with his writing. This, however, was inspired. He had listened to family stories, looked through picture albums, even talked to Fran's agent, and he composed a portrait of her too-short life. Lizzy was touched beyond measure that he had used his tremendous gift to honor a woman he only knew for a few hours, and in her heart she knew he had done it for her.

With fresh tears in her eyes, she passed the text to David, remembering the night of Fran's death. As she drifted off to sleep, she could have sworn Will whispered he loved her. Reading his tribute to her mother's life, she knew she had heard correctly.

Will left a few hours after the funeral. Neither of them said anything about it, but Lizzy knew he had stayed far longer than the campaign could spare him. She needed him, and she was glad he had chosen her over the campaign.

She met up with the campaign again in Dallas. Despite her previous desire for privacy, everyone knew about her mother's death. The beautiful obituary had been in the Chicago Tribune, and one of the reporters reading that section of the paper had seen Lizzy's name in it. She found she didn't mind, as it meant she didn't have to explain her absence or return to anyone.

Knowing that she was coming back, several members of the press went in together to buy a cake to celebrate her return. Chuck Bingley and Charlotte Lucas were in on it too, grateful they wouldn't have to brief the press anymore. The staff had grown while she was away, but each person she knew gave her a big hug. The senior staff was in a meeting with the Governor, all standing in the middle of the campaign office when she arrived. Margaret herself suspended the meeting to welcome Lizzy back, followed by a chorus from the rest.

Will was the last one to embrace her, and she lingered with him. "You okay?" he murmured when she pulled away, and she nodded.

He looked ready to turn back to business, but Lizzy remembered what he had said to her and what he had written for her. She was suddenly seized by the desire to give him some sort of encouragement. As the meeting resumed, she reached for him again, lacing their fingers together and holding his hand tightly.

On the other side of the group, Chuck saw the motion. He stared at them with his mouth hanging open until Richard elbowed him. Lizzy blushed but didn't relinquish Will's hand. She wasn't brave enough to look up at him, but she felt him squeeze her hand, as though making sure it was real.

When the meeting concluded and the group dispersed, Lizzy went back to work. Everyone she dealt with had questions or comments, and by the end of the morning she was feeling exhausted. At least the main press pool already knew why she left and why she had come back.

The campaign left Dallas for Austin that afternoon. The bus ride was three or four hours; about halfway through, Lizzy was passed a note asking her to come to the candidate's makeshift office in the back. She was not surprised to find Will and Richard there. Without being asked, she shut the door behind her.

"Have a seat, Lizzy," the Governor said, and Lizzy did as she was told. "Will told me before he went to Chicago that you and he had been involved. I understand Richard knew as well."

She looked between the cousins, and because she couldn't think of anything else, she said, "I see."

"I'm not going to order you to do anything," Margaret said quietly, "and I won't as long as everyone is doing their jobs, mostly because I suspect it wouldn't do any good. I hope you both understand how sorely I'm tempted." Lizzy remembered then that the Governor had once been a Navy officer. This kind of fraternization would rankle, and Lizzy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She was vaguely comforted when the Governor shot the same look at Richard, not quite disapproving but somehow more than just disappointed. "It puts the rest of us in an awkward position as far as command structure goes, but we'll work it out."

"It was never a problem before, ma'am," Lizzy said. "I don't see it becoming one."

Governor Gardiner raised a brow. "I beg to differ, Lizzy. You two had one fight and Will couldn't write for two months."

Will bristled, clearly about to defend himself, but Lizzy laughed, remembering her mother's incredulity that only one fight had caused such a rift. "I'm sorry," she said, seeing the Governor's frown. "You just reminded me of something my mom said."

The Governor's expression softened. "Well, hopefully we won't have to have this conversation again."

"I think we can be adults, Governor," Will said, getting up.

Lizzy looked at him skeptically. "One of us, anyway."

Margaret smiled. "It's good to have you back, Lizzy."

When Lizzy and Will left the back of the bus he was frowning at her slightly. "You know, we never really talked about..."

"I know," she replied. "I did sort of make a declaration this morning."

"You did." Still standing in the middle of the bus, he took her hand and kissed her palm. Strangely, it was the intensity in his eyes that made her breath catch. "We should talk, though. Soon."

"Tonight," Lizzy agreed, and she tried not to let herself freak out over the prospect.

They had a fundraiser in Austin that night with half a dozen bands playing live. Lizzy was working the event, talking to the crowd between sets. Will slipped backstage during one set, holding Lizzy and swaying with the music. It felt so good to hold her again, and selfishly he was glad it wasn't to comfort her. He'd remembered so many things imperfectly--the smell of her soap, how small she was, the timbre of her laugh. It was good to reacquaint himself with her.

Those few minutes reminded him of what else he desperately wanted to reacquaint himself with. They hadn't even talked about reconciliation, yet he was already catching himself fantasizing about her with absolutely no provocation. That afternoon on the bus, she'd bent over her tablet to shield the screen from the setting sun, and he had all sorts of thoughts centered on the elegant curve of her neck, now exposed to his scrutiny all the time. It was another reason to hope she didn't keep her hair short. He didn't get anything done until she moved to talk to someone on the other side of the bus.

That night he followed her into her hotel room, wondering if maybe they should have this conversation in a more public place. Lizzy, though, stepped into the bathroom to change into her pajamas, and the fact that she didn't change in front of him when he'd seen her naked told him she wasn't ready for more.

He was standing around the room feeling more than a little awkward when she came out again. "I suppose we should have talked before this morning," Lizzy said, twisting her hands for a moment before sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard.

After a minute's debate, he went to the other side and sat with her. "You had other things on your mind in Chicago. And you were supposed to."

She cast a critical look at him. "What did you do after your parents died?"

He shrugged. "I was in grad school. Gigi moved to California to live with me. Being with her more was the only good thing that came out of it."

Lizzy shifted over and laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right." He took her hand and kissed the top of her head. "There's something I was meaning to ask about your mother."

"What's that?"

"She wasn't married to your father all that long, really. Why keep his name?"

"Well, officially she didn't, at least after she remarried," Lizzy replied. "But she published her first book as Fran Bennet. It was easier to keep it. Besides, my name was Bennet, and she wasn't going back to her unpronounceable Polish maiden name."

"Worse than Ostrowski?"

"Szczesniak."

"There is no way that's real."

"It is!"

He chuckled and moved his hand to her thigh. She didn't object, even when he stroked gently. "Of course, this begs another question."

"How is it my father is Swiss yet named Bennet?"

"Did you always read my mind?"

She shook her head. "Almost never." She sat up, rolling her shoulders back. "My grandfather was born Henri Benoit. My father's a very intelligent man and respected in his field, but his father's a real Renaissance man. Scientist, linguist, even a musician. He spoke English so well he could fool the king himself, he always said.

"He was teaching at Oxford when the Nazis invaded France. His English friends begged him to stay, but he was in love with a girl back in Alsace. He got papers as Henry Bennet and went back for her. They went to Switzerland, he got a teaching position in Geneva, and that's where they raised their family."

"Is he still alive?" Will asked.

She nodded. "To be honest, I'm closer to Pépère than to my father."

"You were too young to take sides in the divorce."

"He's been married four times. I think he's always been unhappy that he wasn't as brilliant as his father, so he finds everything disappointing."

Will, whose parents had been happy together and loved their children dearly, couldn't imagine what it was like for Lizzy to have such a father. He had the impression Fran was no match for Lizzy intellectually, but they clearly loved each other very much. It occurred to him he had never heard her refer to her father by any kind of name, whether French or English. He was always "my father," like a distant entity with no real bearing on her life.

He stilled his hand as she pulled her knees up. "Will, I did a lot of thinking the last couple months," she said. "You know why I was angry, right? You said I was crazy for thinking my job was at stake if people found out."

There was a part of his brain pointing out he'd been right, but he clamped down on the thought. The Governor had been forgiving but not very happy about it. Another candidate might not have bothered with forgiveness. "I was being selfish," he said. "And stupid."

"Yes," she agreed. "But I was afraid. I've never been very good at this, Will, but I want to be. I want to take things slower this time, but I need you to understand. I don't want to lose you again."

It was on the tip of his tongue to say again that he loved her, but something like fear of his own held him back.

Lizzy leaned in and kissed the side of his neck, just above the collar of his shirt. "The night Mom died, I thought I heard you say something just before I fell asleep," she said. His whole body tensed. "I wasn't sure, but when you came to me with that obituary, I knew."

"Lizzy," he breathed, not daring to look at her.

"I love you, Will," she said, resting against him again. "It took me far too long to see it, but I love you so much."

He wanted to kiss her until he was lost in her, make love to her until he couldn't tell where he ended and she began, but she wanted something slower this time, and he had to respect that. So instead of succumbing to his own needs, he yielded to hers and held her close, whispering over and over that he loved her too.

In some ways, the Texas primary looked like primaries anywhere else. There were lots of flags, lots of signs, lots of cheering supporters. The only difference was, in Texas, everything really did seem bigger.

Lizzy had been to Texas once in high school, the first year she qualified for the national speech tournament. The tournament left her with virtually no time to form an impression of her surroundings, except that it was very hot in June.

It was getting hot in April too, and she found herself with little more time to decide whether she liked the state. They were too busy trying to win. Ohio had gone remarkably well for them. Gardiner won by fifteen points; even Zwillick's talk of the Governor's Midwestern sensibilities couldn't dampen that victory. They were within shouting distance of the nomination now, but Texas loomed large in their immediate future, large even by Texas' standards.

"Should we be concerned?" Richard asked the senior staff as they waited for the first Austin rally to begin. "We're starting to see a lot of stories about Democrats eating their young."

"We're Democrats," Lizzy said. "I thought eating our young was in the brochure."

Richard laughed. "It's in the fine print."

Charlotte took the question seriously. "We've got offices in places Democrats never have much presence. Senator Connolly may have locked up the Republican nomination on Super Tuesday, but when was the last time he was in the news?"

"The Governor's favorables are high, even among Zwillick supporters," Will pointed out. "I don't think we're looking at winning the nomination and losing the other half of the party in the general."

"Chuck?" Richard prompted.

"I agree with Will."

"Of course you do. Lizzy?"

She shrugged. "If we do well enough here, the stories are going to be about momentum, not about Democratic infighting."

"Well, then," Richard said, "let's do well enough here."

In Austin they did a huge rally on the UT campus. The Governor was treated like a rock star. Most of the speech this time was not the standard stump speech. Instead, she talked about the cost of education, unemployment among young people, and health care, all issues she'd worked hard on in Wisconsin as Governor. Lizzy moved closer to Will as they watched from the side. "Chuck wrote this, didn't he?"

Will looked at her in surprise. "How did you know?"

"I'd say something about alliteration or parallel structure, but really, it's because you're so rich you forgot about a house you owned."

"You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Doesn't seem likely."

She expected an exasperated sigh. Instead, she saw him smile, and he ducked down quickly to kiss her.

They were staying another night in Austin for yet another fundraiser, and in the morning they'd be off to Houston. Mary Benet and Gigi Darcy joined them that evening at the hotel, before the event. Mary was all too happy to report the apps were working well. She had a side project going about putting all the data to use and was scheduled to brief the campaign on it during the trip to Houston. Mary wasn't attending the party that night, so Gigi got to come without having to work.

Lizzy was down in the lobby, standing so the silk of her dress wouldn't wrinkle. Like most of her formalwear, this gown was vintage--silver and floor-length, with a halter neck. Richard was the next one of the staff downstairs, and he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Lizzy. She rolled her eyes. "I don't remember you dressing this well when you worked for Dad," he said, with a kiss on her cheek.

"I did well for myself in the private sector."

"Well, you look beautiful tonight," he replied. "And I like the haircut. It suits you."

Lizzy touched her short hair self-consciously. "I'm not sure Will likes it."

"Well, fortunately his opinion is more or less meaningless."

She laughed, which she suspected was the point. Then suddenly she found herself being hugged. "I'm glad you're back, kid," he said. "I'm not convinced Will's good enough for you, though."

She laughed again, but before she could say something, a warm baritone voice interrupted their conversation. "Richard, you better not have designs on my girlfriend."

Lizzy twisted away from Richard and smiled, both at what Will said and how he looked. The men in this family certainly could fill out a tuxedo, but Will was particularly sharp. He had escorted his sister down, and Lizzy thought they looked very sweet together.

Gigi had not yet seen her cousin, so Richard released Lizzy to hug his young cousin. Meanwhile Will came up to Lizzy. "You're looking lovely tonight, Ms. Bennet," he said, with a teasing smile.

"Just tonight, Fortinbras?" she asked in kind.

"Fortinbras?" Richard repeated.

Gigi laughed, though, and Lizzy realized she knew about that. Will had talked to his sister about her, and somehow it was incredibly endearing. She took his arm and smiled up at him. "That was when you met, wasn't it?" Gigi said, a little excitedly. Lizzy smiled at the Southern accent, much more pronounced in the young woman's voice than in her brother's. "She tried to guess Will's first name, Richard."

Richard frowned. "And you guessed Fortinbras?"

"I guessed something like Francis, I think," Lizzy told him. "Fortinbras was the worst name I could think of, although 'Fitzwilliam' wouldn't win any beauty pageants either."

"Hey!" Richard protested.

"Oh, it's fine as a surname, but could you imagine being saddled with it as a first name?"

"I think I'd go by Darcy," Will said dryly.

"You do go by Darcy," his cousin pointed out.

"Darcy's more dignified," Will and Lizzy said simultaneously, to Richard and Gigi's delight.

Lizzy was beginning to wonder where the Governor and the others were when Will suddenly leaned down to speak in her ear. "You do look beautiful tonight, darlin'," he said quietly, but not quietly enough.

A few feet away, Richard was grinning at them. "I see you bring out the Southern boy in him, Lizzy."

She blushed furiously, and Will looked embarrassed, too. She thought of his accent as something as private as anything they had done in bed. "He's been in Texas for days, Richard," she reminded him. "I said 'y'all' this morning talking to the press. I think I'm starting to pick up the accent too."

Will bristled. "I am not picking up a Texas accent."

Gigi was looking at Lizzy with wide eyes. "There's a big difference between Texas and North Carolina."

"And Will worked so hard to shed his accent," Richard said. "I'm not sure he could even sustain his native tongue for very long."

Lizzy wanted to respond in French, just to see how Richard would react, but perhaps wisely she kept her mouth shut.

Will, on the other hand, did not. "Are you baiting me, Rick?"

"Yes," Richard replied, as though it was obvious.

"Will," Lizzy said softly, but it didn't do any good.

"I bet you can't go the whole night in your real accent," Richard said. "I bet you're so used to suppressing it that you can't not suppress it."

"'Can't not suppress it'?" Will repeated, wincing. "Can you maybe cease and desist with the double negatives?"

"Hey, only one of us is a lawyer. You don't get to use the lingo."

"So what's the bet?"

"Loser has to wear a cowboy hat for the whole day of the primary!" Gigi said.

"On camera and everything," Richard agreed.

"You're on," Will said, and Lizzy covered her face with her hand. This was not going to end well.

On Tuesday, Will was woken by his cousin delivering the cowboy hat he had to wear all day. Will made a growling noise at him but Richard was gleefully undeterred.

When he went on television, he tried to take the laughter with good grace, and Lizzy assured him he did well. Of course, "well" for him was more loveably cranky than charming. He was glad, though, to be kept busy. It made the hours with that stupid Stetson pass more quickly.

John Hunter from Rolling Stone approached him after lunch asking about the hat. His magazine had a curious arrangement with all the major players in both parties, significantly freer access in exchange for not publishing a word until after the general election. Will hated seeing him, knowing he had to cooperate to an extent but also knowing things he considered private would be aired. Thinking about it, he wondered if this was part of the reason Lizzy had been reluctant to be open about her relationship with him.

"I lost a bet with Richard," Will explained, pushing the hat back slightly. He was starting to sweat under the band.

"What kind of bet?"

He shrugged, not wanting to say. "Something stupid. Not related to the campaign."

John nodded. "Does it have to do with Lizzy?"

Will just stared, and the reporter shifted and cleared his throat. "I, uh, it's been hard not to notice, Will."

"It was a family thing," Will said, which was sort of true.

He hoped John would get bored or distracted, but unfortunately what caught John's eye was Lizzy, across the lobby. Her phone was ringing, and Will saw how she stiffened before answering. "Bonjour, Papa," she said, and Will started moving toward her, leaving the reporter behind.

Lizzy looked up as he approached, and Will could see her rising agitation. She started speaking in rapid French. He heard something about her mother being dead, but beyond that he couldn't follow. He could tell she was angry, though, and getting more so by the minute. The call was mercifully only a few minutes long, and she nearly threw the phone aside when she was done.

"Lizzy?" Will said gently, while she cradled her head in her hands.

She muttered in French; he still had no idea what she was saying but it sounded venomous. "Lizzy, let's get out of here," he said, taking her arm and gently pulling her to her feet.

There was a park across the street from the hotel, and despite the fact that it was muddy from a huge thunderstorm the night before, Will guided her in that direction. She needed to be away from reporters and all the prying eyes of the staff. "Lizzy, will you tell me what's wrong?"

She sat down on a swing and looked up at him. "My father," she spat. "I called him, I emailed him when Mom got sick. When she started going downhill. When she died. It's been two weeks since my last attempt, and he just now got around to calling me back."

He sat on the swing next to hers. "I'm sorry," he said, not knowing what else to say.

"I just... I don't know how you can be that callous. I don't think he ever loved Mom very much, but he had a child with her!"

Will couldn't imagine it either. He couldn't imagine having so little affection for his own child that he wouldn't immediately reach out to her at a time like this. "Was he at least... I don't know, sincere?"

"What does it matter?" she asked. "You got on a plane as soon as you found out she was sick. You'd never met her in your life. He's my father, he was married to her, and it took him ten weeks to pick up the phone. He's never been good at communicating but I didn't think he was..."

Will reached and closed his hand around hers, where she was gripping the swing's chain tightly. "Why can't I just let him go?" she asked, now crying. "Why does it have to hurt like this? He hasn't been a part of my life in two decades. Why should I expect any different now?"

Will didn't have answers for her. Somehow he suspected there were none.

After a while, she calmed down and wiped her eyes. "We should go back. I have to redo my makeup before I go on camera again."

"Probably wouldn't hurt if we changed, either," he replied, sticking his feet out. "Six inches deep in mud."

She laughed weakly. "Yeah."

They walked back hand in hand, and she finally addressed the cowboy hat. "Are you actually going to wear that thing all day?"

"A Darcy always honors his debts," Will replied, straightening his spine a little.

"And a Fitzwilliam makes foolish bets."

"Pretty much."

"You know if we win tonight, Richard's going to try to make you wear that hat from here on out."

Will stopped dead in his tracks. "I hadn't thought of that."

Lizzy was barely suppressing a grin. "You actually want us to lose tonight, don't you?"

"Well, wouldn't you?"

Margaret wasn't sure where the piano came from, but there was something highly entertaining about watching her campaign manager blunder his way through "Deep in the Heart of Texas" once and again while the staff sang along badly. Soon Charlotte shoved Richard aside, since she played much better. Richard grabbed Lizzy and started doing some sort of two-step around the room with her, until they passed Will in his ridiculous cowboy hat. Lizzy reached for Will, who pulled her away and kissed her soundly in front of everyone. There were a lot of cheers, and Lizzy turned bright red, but she didn't make Will let go of her either.

While Margaret watched from the doorway, Ed came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. "I'm glad I was here for this one, babe," he said as she leaned back against him.

"We haven't locked anything up yet, Ed."

"I know. But we're close."

Margaret turned to look at him. "And how are you going to feel about that? You know the general is going to be ten times harder, and then if we win..."

"When we win. And we'll be fine, Margaret. I'm so proud of you, you know?"

"I do. I love you."

They stood in silence for a little while, watching the staff wildly celebrating. "I don't get it," Margaret finally said. "I lost the caucus!"

"Yeah, but you delivered a thumping in the primary," Ed pointed out. "It's like Richard said. You went after the young people and Latino voters hard, and they were less likely to caucus."

She shook her head. "I still can't believe I beat Tom Zwillick in a Southern state."

"What's the delegate count now?"

"We won't have a firm number till morning, but it's looking less and less like Zwillick can stage a comeback. Not enough big states left, just Pennsylvania and Oregon, really."

"Both states where you're likely to do well."

Margaret nodded. "Maybe we'll get a bit of a break after Oregon."

"By which you mean maybe you can go home and work."

She smiled despite herself. He knew her so, so well.

"They're going to be partying all night," he whispered in her ear. "What say we abandon the revelry?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"The likelihood of me being asleep by, oh, one o'clock."

She looked at Ed again and was amused to see his thoughtful expression. "I think I can make that happen."

"Not getting overconfident, are you?"

"Nope. I leave that for you."

Though no one noticed but her husband, Margaret laughed as he led her away.

Chapter 11

Posted on 2014-05-05

JENNINGS: It's worth noting, while we're in Pennsylvania, site of the Constitutional Convention, that none of this primary nonsense is actually in the Constitution.

HOWARD: Wait, what?

CNN, May 4, 2014

Will didn't care much for Pennsylvania. The state seemed to have conspired to get him out of bed earlier and earlier every day. The only good thing about it was, it reminded him of what it was like waking up with Lizzy, although he hated how early Lizzy got up.

They were in Philadelphia now. Or Pittsburgh. No, Philadelphia. Governor Gardiner would be speaking at the Constitution Center that afternoon, so it had to be Philadelphia. At this point the whole state was a blur. He had to think it would only be worse when fall campaigning began.

As he got out of bed, he realized he'd actually let himself think they were going to win. He wasn't superstitious enough to think he'd just cursed them to lose, but it was strange that he hadn't had the thought before. It had always been if, not when. Now as he shuffled toward the bathroom, he wondered if Richard would kill him if he knew about Will's change in attitude.

He went through his morning routine on autopilot, stopping only when there was a knock at his door. He'd just set his toothbrush aside, so he rinsed his mouth quickly and went to answer the door.

He wasn't really surprised to see Lizzy. Lately not even Chuck got up this early to work. He was surprised by what she was wearing: very short shorts, a thin tank top, and a robe she hadn't bothered to tie up.

"Something's come up," she said. "Something about Hannah."

Will let her into the room while she shoved her phone into his hand. He squinted at the screen for a minute and sighed. "I can't read this," he muttered, going to the desk to pick up his glasses.

He was aware within a few seconds, however, that Lizzy was staring at him. At first he ignored it, but it was like a strong current, drawing him in whether he wanted to or not. Finally he looked up at her and started to ask what was wrong.

She didn't let him get more than a word out of his mouth. She launched herself at him, burying her hands in his hair and kissing him wildly. In the back of his mind Will was grateful he'd brushed his teeth before letting her in. It was the last coherent thought he was going to have for a while. Lizzy's tongue was in his mouth, driving him out of his mind while her body shifted against his.

Will grabbed her hips to hold her closer. Lizzy slid her arms around his neck, pushing up on her toes. On instinct he slid one hand down to her thigh; like she'd read his mind, she pulled her leg up around his. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd lifted her off the floor entirely, happy to be craning his neck up for once as they kissed.

He stumbled over to the nearby wall, colliding with a soft thump. Lizzy giggled, then moaned as his lips moved down her throat. Will loved how he could get both sounds out of her like that.

They were kissing and caressing for some minutes before Will realized the bed was not far away. He was an adult; he had some self-control, and he could focus on her instead of acting like a teenager.

She tightened her legs around him when he abruptly backed away from the wall. She stopped kissing him too, clinging to him and giggling again. But the bed was closer than he realized, and when he hit it he lurched forward. He just barely moved his hand to cup the back of her head as they fell together onto the bed.

He expected her to laugh, but she wasn't making any sound. Concerned, Will propped himself up to look at her. She was gasping, back arched, a look of panic on her face. "Lizzy?" he said. "Lizzy, say something."

He pushed himself away, watching worriedly as he realized he'd knocked the wind out of her when they fell. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," he said as her breathing came back and her body relaxed.

Now panting, she shook her head. "It's okay. Got carried away."

Will stretched out next to her again, nuzzled her robe off one shoulder, and kissed her skin delicately. "Yeah, we did." The mood was effectively dead now, and he had to laugh. "I'm really sorry."

"Hey, I threw myself at you," she pointed out.

"Yeah, what exactly caused that?"

She reached and tapped the corner of his glasses. "Apparently I have a thing for Clark Kent." He snorted, and she smiled. "When did you get these, anyway?"

"Maybe a month ago? I don't like wearing them."

"Too bad. They're really hot."

Will had been thinking for weeks it was a sign of getting old that he'd actually gotten glasses, but suddenly he didn't mind them so much.

They lay together in silence for a little while, Will tracing patterns on her stomach while she played with his hair. He was wondering if there was time to just go back to sleep like this, but Lizzy's hand stilled and she gently pushed him away. "Where's my phone?"

"What phone?"

"You had it last," she said, sitting up. "Oh, there it is."

He remembered why he'd put his glasses on, and he went to retrieve her phone from the floor. "I forgot. You weren't just here to jump me."

She rolled her eyes. "I wasn't here to jump you at all."

"So you say." Will handed her the phone with his best smile. "So what were you here about?"

Lizzy entered her passcode and handed the phone over again. "It's about Hannah."

Will read the blog post she'd loaded and long before the end of it, he was seething.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" the Governor asked, looking more alert than she had a minute ago when Lizzy came in.

"There's someone claiming you and Ed adopted Ed's illegitimate child," Lizzy replied, hoping she wouldn't have to repeat this trash too much.

Governor Gardiner stared for a minute, jaw dropped. "You've got to be kidding."

Lizzy shook her head. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I got a call from... well, someone in another time zone about half an hour ago. Apparently this blogger has been posting about this endlessly for months, but it's only just starting to get traction. It's still on the fringes, but these things can blow up quicker than we imagine."

"Yeah, no kidding." The older woman sighed. "You were around the state house for some of that, Lizzy. It took us five years to get pregnant with Jack. Tried for another year before we adopted Hannah. And now I have to go over all this again in public."

"I'm sorry," Lizzy said again. "Should I talk to someone in the state house?"

The Governor shook her head. "No, talk to Charlotte. She was in the press office before we adopted Hannah. I know you can make the inquiries discreetly, but they're all terrified of her. Might as well use it, right?"

Lizzy laughed a little. "Yes, ma'am."

Margaret smiled, though wanly. "I should call my husband."

"Do you need anything else?"

"Earplugs? Ed's going to blow a gasket."

"Sorry, ma'am. I can't help you there."

Lizzy escaped before the Governor called Dr. Gardiner, not wanting to be around for the explosion. She knocked on the wrong door once before she found Charlotte, who was half-dressed and cranky about being interrupted. "This better be good," she muttered.

Lizzy stepped inside and closed the door. "We've got a problem. There's a rumor floating that Hannah Gardiner is actually Dr. Gardiner's child from an extramarital affair."

In the middle of buttoning up her blouse, Charlotte froze. "You're joking, right? You missed April Fool's Day and this is how you're making up for it."

"I wish. The Governor wants you to call the press office at the state house. I'm going to need all the press releases and public statements the Gardiners made about the adoption, end to end."

"Of course, of course," Charlotte said, already getting her phone to make the call. Lizzy stood by while Charlotte waited. "There's no way this actually hurts us, is there?"

"I don't know. Sometimes the craziest accusations are the ones that stick."

Charlotte frowned. "What's your plan, then?"

"I'll let you know when I've got one."

Lizzy had the statements in hand within the hour, and she spent a bit of time organizing them. The couple did three television interviews on the subject and four more in print. In the sixteen months it took them to adopt, the Governor spoke before the press eleven times, with more than a dozen further releases. After reading everything, Lizzy knew what to do.

The question did not come that day or the next. "How did you find out about this?" Chuck asked more than thirty-six hours after Lizzy had first gone to Will.

"One of my cousins in France," she told the group as they gathered for dinner and planning. "He's interested in American politics."

"Everyone at this table is interested in American politics," Richard pointed out, laughing. "None of us found it."

"Yes, well, Thiérry is particularly interested in fringe politics and the accompanying theories," Lizzy admitted. "He finds us terribly amusing, but at least he was useful this time."

"Hang on, I thought you were Swiss," Chuck protested.

"It's complicated."

"Lizzy, what are you going to do when this breaks?" Charlotte asked.

"What I'm good at," Lizzy replied. "I'm going to talk until the problem is fixed."

Charlotte wasn't entirely surprised by Lizzy's plan. Charlotte had started her work for the Governor in the state house's press office. She'd hated it, but she saw that Lizzy was very, very good at her job. Still, Charlotte couldn't quite shake the feeling Lizzy was putting all their chips on a very uncertain roll of the dice.

The question finally came six days before the Pennsylvania primary. Since Texas, Zwillick had won narrowly in Indiana, North Carolina, West Virginia, and Kentucky. For him Pennsylvania was the last stand, the last state with sufficient delegates and political affinity to make a dent in Gardiner's lead. Charlotte was quietly nervous about where this was coming from. The timing made her wonder if this was a last-ditch effort by Zwillick.

Lizzy had been carrying with her for days a binder full of the statements Charlotte tracked down for her. On Wednesday morning, Charlotte had a feeling and watched from the back of the hotel foyer where they held briefings. Lizzy stood at the other end, often leaning back against a table, the reporters gathered in front of her in haphazardly arranged chairs.

The first several questions were innocuous, and during that time, Richard and Will joined Charlotte in the back. "Anything?" Richard asked quietly, and she shook her head. "They're going to notice us back here and want to know why."

"Wait," Will said, before Charlotte could answer. "I think..."

He didn't have to say more. Lizzy called on Jeff Cross of the Wall Street Journal, probably the most conservative of the national papers. "Lizzy, I'm wondering if you've heard anything about this rumor circulating online."

"I thought the internet was for baseless rumors, Jeff."

The group laughed quietly, and Jeff continued. "Some conservative blogs are running a rumor saying Hannah Gardiner is actually Ed Gardiner's illegitimate daughter."

A few of the reporters actually gasped. Richard and Will crossed their arms over their chests in identical posture. At the front of the group, Lizzy shifted her things and opened the black binder. "On January 9, 2010, Governor and Dr. Gardiner issued the following press release," she said, and then she proceeded to read. "'After the difficulties they have had in having children, the Governor and Dr. Gardiner have begun the process of adoption. It is their intent to be as transparent in this process as adoption laws allow. They ask the people of Wisconsin to support them, and to respect their privacy and the privacy of the birth family of the child they hope to welcome eventually into their home."

Lizzy turned the page, and she proceeded to read statement after statement about the adoption. Except she wasn't just reading, she was performing. At the end of the relatively bloodless releases, she moved on to the public statements the Gardiners made during the months of the adoption process, carefully citing each and every one.

At the end, she closed the binder and looked at the reporter in the second row. "Does that answer your question, Jeff?"

"Uh, yeah, it does."

Lizzy set the binder aside, and she stood away from the table as she went on. "I don't know who has been perpetuating this rumor online, but I can't begin to tell you how angry this makes me. The Gardiners were nothing but transparent in this process, which was deeply personal and on occasion painful for them. There's a year and a half of public statements on the subject, so for someone to suggest they were lying in order to cover up that kind of misconduct isn't just offensive. It's ludicrous."

She gathered her things and walked away then, even though reporters were asking more questions. Charlotte led the guys out of the foyer too, and they met up with Lizzy in the elevator. "I could kiss you," Richard said once the doors were closed.

Without missing a beat, she replied, "I could slap you."

Everyone in the elevator was still laughing when it arrived at the fourth floor.

Lizzy didn't get a moment alone with Will until late in the evening, and even then they were only in a relatively quiet part of the bus. "Dr. Gardiner is coming out here Friday," she told him. "Bringing the kids too."

"Good," Will said with a firm nod. "We need lots of pictures of the family out there."

"I hate that we have to." With a sigh, Lizzy laid her head back against the seat. "I thought everyone agreed a long time ago that kids were off-limits."

"The internet changed everything. You know that."

"It's just crazy that a vicious rumor in an email can turn into this."

"I agree, but you know what I want to know?" She shook her head, and he smiled. "How you decided to just stand there and read those statements like a filibuster."

"I went back to my roots," she explained. "Speech team. One of my events was prose reading. Sometimes there's nothing quite so effective as a well-rehearsed reading."

"You rehearsed that?" he said, his smile now teasing.

She grinned in return. "Of course I did."

"So, speech team?"

"I haven't bored you to tears about that before? I loved it, but it was basically my life in high school," she told him. "I did prose reading as a freshman, and then one weekend one of our impromptu guys got sick and my coach asked me to take the open slot. Two minutes to prep a six-minute speech. It was terrifying and I kind of loved it."

Will chuckled. "You would."

"Hey, I almost made it to state that year. Did the next year. Nationals, too." She looked at him curiously. "What about you?"

"In high school? I was the skinny nerd on the school newspaper."

That made Lizzy smile, even as he made a face. "Not even the skinny editor of the school newspaper?"

"Well, not till I was a senior. If I'd been thinking, I would have been a photographer. I'd at least have attracted girls that way."

Lizzy giggled, leaning into him. "Editor of the paper. Were you thinking about becoming a reporter, or were you just into the power?"

"Bit of both?" he admitted with a shy, sheepish smile. "I thought I was going to be a Pulitzer-winning reporter. Thank God I didn't go to J-school."

"Yeah, then this relationship would be entirely unethical instead of mostly unethical."

Will leaned over and kissed her. "Have I apologized for that lately?"

"I think you've apologized enough," she replied, clasping his hand and kissing it.

The soft smile on his face made her breath catch, and she bit her lip. He really was so handsome, and there was a sort of vulnerable happiness about him she never would have expected when he walked into her office all those months ago.

The bus rolled up to the hotel in Erie around eleven that night. Cell signal was bad on the road, so the senior staff camped in the lobby with tablets and laptops to catch up en masse. "Zwillick's condemned the rumors," Charlotte said, finding the Senator's statement first. "'The Gardiners did a wonderful thing by opening their home and their hearts to this little girl, and their actions and motives are above reproach.'"

Richard pumped his fist. "Can't complain about your opponent sticking up for you."

"Bite your tongue, Richard," Lizzy said. "But really, this isn't looking any worse than last summer when the press caught wind of Chuck and his crippling triskaidekaphobia."

"Hey," Chuck protested.

"How long till we see this stuff reflected in polling?" Will asked before Lizzy could continue that line of conversation.

"Friday or Saturday, probably," Charlotte told him. "But one statement from Zwillick isn't going to be the end of it."

Will and Charlotte went back and forth for a bit, but Lizzy was distracted by her own screen. "Lizzy?" Richard prompted during a lull.

"Read this," she said, thrusting the tablet across the circle into Richard's hands.

"Won't read it unless you've practiced it?" Will said to her quietly. She elbowed him lightly to quiet him.

Richard turned the screen around and started to read. "'When asked, GOP Presidential nominee Senator Mike Connolly said that it was "a terrible accusation to make without proof."'"

"That's... strained," Chuck said.

"I think you mean constipated."

"Richard!" Charlotte scolded.

"It's a legitimate use of the word! Back me up, East German judge," he said, with a pointed look at Will.

"Why am I the East German judge?" Will asked, getting defensive.

"You're not exactly unbiased, dear," Lizzy said with heavy sarcasm.

"Dear?" Chuck repeated with a grin, while Richard gasped dramatically.

"Give me my iPad back before I beat you with my shoe," Lizzy said as she wrenched it away from him. "I'm going to bed."

"You going too, honey?" Richard said to Will. Before Will could say anything, Lizzy walked behind Richard and smacked his head.

Will got as far as untucking his shirt before something occurred to him and he was heading to Lizzy's room. As he raised his hand to knock, the door flew open. Lizzy let out a startled noise and laughed. "Fortinbras!"

He grinned. "I know, I thought this was going to be a morning routine." She rolled her eyes and walked back inside; he followed her. "I had a thought about where this rumor came from," he said. "The guy who started it is a dyed-in-the-wool Republican. Libertarian, even, but he's so far to the right I don't think even the conservative media would really pay attention to him. This must have been elevated by someone with a lot more influence."

She smiled at him, and he realized he was a step behind again. "You and my cousin," she said, handing him her phone. "I almost hope you never meet."

"Lizzy, this is in French."

"I thought you spoke French."

"I can ask for directions to the Louvre or what the weather is like in Nice," he said. "Things you learn in high school French."

"Oh." She took the phone back and set it aside. "Well, the blogger has posted he had a conversation with a guy named Darryl Whitby."

"Why is that name familiar?"

"Because Darryl Whitby is the political director of Restoration America."

"The pro-Connolly Super PAC?"

"Yep."

"I could kiss you," he said, then mentally cringed when he remembered Richard saying the same to her that morning.

But Lizzy gave him a coy smile. "Then why don't you?"

Will needed no further invitation. He cupped her face and kissed her, sweetly at first, but soon Lizzy deepened the kiss. He began backing toward the bed, pulling her with him. This time he wasn't going to tackle her, at least.

He sat on the edge of the bed and began to tug her down, but she resisted. It took him a minute to realize it, and he frowned in confusion. "Lizzy?" She was biting her lip and wouldn't meet his eyes. "Lizzy, are you... Are you not ready for this, sweetheart?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, resting her forehead against his. "I know... I know it's not like it's our first time. And I remember..." She touched his face tenderly. "I remember what it was like. It was incredible, Will, and I want to be with you again, but..."

Will swallowed hard, not sure he wanted to know. "But?"

She took a deep breath. "I don't regret having slept with you before, but if I had it to do over again, I might have waited until we knew each other better. There are so many conversations we didn't have before, and we should have." He looked up at her, only half understanding and desperately trying to keep his disappointment at bay, but her smile was reassuring. "I don't even know your first name."

He groaned. "Really? You won't sleep with me until I tell you my first name?"

He expected a laugh, but she frowned. "Will."

"I'm sorry." He sighed. "I think I understand. Sort of."

"I'm glad." She backed away from him and he didn't resist. "And my second, much less critical reason for turning you down is we probably ought to tell someone what my cousin found."

"Oh, right."

They left her room and walked down the hall toward the Governor's suite. Lizzy took his hand as Will took a deep breath. "Flannery."

"I'm sorry?"

"Flannery," he repeated, rubbing his neck. "That's what the F stands for. Flannery William Darcy."

Lizzy stopped short. "How in the world do you think Fortinbras is worse than that? That's a girl's name!"

"Mom's family was Irish. My great-grandfather was named Flannery."

"Name one other Flannery."

He sighed. "Flannery O'Connor."

"And my point is made." She gave him a shrewd look. "You're making this up, aren't you? There's no way you're telling the truth."

He gave her a sidelong glance and started walking again. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

He had to admit, it was sort of nice to have her gaping and chasing after him for once.

Two days after the rumor about Hannah came out, Ed and the kids joined Margaret in Philadelphia, where they saw the Liberty Bell and some other tourist sites while a mob of reporters followed them. The pictures of Hannah and Jack with their parents did more than Lizzy could have done with days of talking. On Monday, the truth came out, and that did the most good of all.

A CNN reporter, flushed with the pride of breaking a serious scandal, went live on his network that afternoon to report how the rumors surfaced in the first place. Darryl Whitby, political director of Restoration America, talked to the blogger and subsequently to a few more prominent bloggers and a reporter or two, until finally something shook loose.

"Restoration America is a big supporter of Senator Connolly's Presidential campaign," an analyst on CNN said. "Of course, there's no political coordination between campaigns and super PACs, but this is not good for Connolly."

That, as it turned out, was the understatement of the year. There was no proof Connolly had anything to do with the story, but every reporter worth his salt pulled up his strange response to the situation. It might have been better for him to say nothing; now everyone was wondering if he had something to do with the story.

Lizzy didn't really think he had. Connolly was too honest for that, but she did wonder about the statement. Had he known before the story broke there was some way to connect it to him? Not that it mattered much, of course. The day before the Pennsylvania primary, just before the nightly news, his campaign had to release a statement decrying Whitby's actions and publicly supporting adoptive parents like the Governor and Dr. Gardiner.

Tuesday night, the Governor approached her alone while the group watched the returns. "Am I needed on camera, ma'am?" Lizzy asked.

"No, no," Governor Gardiner replied. "I just wanted to know how you're feeling about the Hannah rumors."

"Like you have to be the scum of the earth to stoop that low," Lizzy said darkly. "But I think it's gone away as much as it's going to. Reasonable people will be convinced by the paper trail you and Dr. Gardiner left. Unreasonable people won't be convinced by anything."

The Governor smiled wryly. "It was easier when village idiots couldn't find other village idiots on the internet."

"Don't say that too loud," Lizzy replied, though she chuckled. "We're going to hear about this again in the general."

"Don't say that too loud either. Haven't won yet."

A cheer went up in the room, and Lizzy smiled. "You sure about that?"

Chapter 12

Posted on 2014-05-12

WATCH THIS VIDEO. It may be the funniest thing I've ever seen in politics.

Bridget Weir, aka @TinyButMighty, May 15, 2014

To: gldarcy89@ matlock.org
From: fwdarcy78@ matlock.org
Re: Light at the end of the tunnel

Sorry about the radio silence. It's been crazy out here. I've hardly had time to write for the Governor, let alone write an email.

How is your cold? I'm hoping by now you're over it. I know Mary needs you, but if you're not well yet, I want you to go to the doctor. You can't do your job if you're sick and getting others sick. I don't want to baby you about this, but you've always tried to soldier on when you shouldn't. I'm going to sic Aunt Alice on you if you're not better in a few days. We both know how that ends.

Lizzy asked for your email address a while ago. You haven't said anything about her emailing you, which leads me to conclude you two are scheming something. I am, for once, not going to complain. But don't think that's about you. Lizzy's said I'm forgiven, and I believe her, but it's hard for me to forget what I did to her. What I said was bad enough, but I don't know how she was even able to look at me after I let her go through all that alone.

We've talked about the whole mess now and then. She's thinking at some point we have to stop revisiting it, to learn from the past but not let it fester. And she's right. At the very least I'm not going to complain about her plotting a surprise for my birthday.

So tell me about Mary and how things are going with her. Are you happier as a personal interpreter than you were as interpreter for the county? I'll be honest, I'm still a little surprised you left that job. I guess it's because the Fitzwilliam blood pushes so many of us into civil service. Don't take this as criticism. Your job is inherently a service. Not even Grandpa could question your commitment. I'm still incredibly proud of you and what you do. I remember when you were little and wouldn't play the piano in front of people you'd known all your life, so it's amazing to me that you chose a career that's essentially performing all the time.

There's an incredibly loud poker game on at the other end of the bus. Chuck just stopped by to see if I'd spot him some cash. I've heard that one before, so our inheritance is safe. Probably would be safer if I joined the game. Chuck's poker face is basically nonexistent.

I can hear Lizzy laughing now. It's funny, I can't tell from how she's smiling if she's winning or losing. I don't think she cares. Richard's pouting, though, so I think he's losing. Good for him. It'll build character.

Chuck also wanted to warn me that Jane's talking about an event in his sister's district. We'd have to be within fifty feet of each other. I suppose she might have improved since our Berkeley days. Maybe. I'm not holding my breath.

Before I forget (again), tell Aunt Alice we're still working on a date for the fundraiser. We're not dragging our feet, honest. With the nomination almost in hand, scheduling is worse than usual. Hopefully it'll calm down soon. I think Jane's about to have a nervous breakdown, but she's keeping the trains on time.

Don't tell Richard I said that about the nomination. He and I seem to have swapped outlooks. We get closer and closer and I get more certain; he becomes the skeptic. Zwillick would have to pull off a miracle to win at this stage. I'm not saying we've got it wrapped up, but Richard could use some faith in his life. If nothing else, he's got to take SOLVE's endorsement as a sign. It's a huge deal in Oregon. Our state people have been dancing on clouds since it happened.

Speaking of SOLVE, the endorsement event was interesting. The way Aunt Edna would call something interesting. I'm sure someone else will try to tell you a version of this story, but let me tell you what actually happened.

SOLVE is an environmental organization. Originally it was SOLV--Stop Oregon Littering and Vandalism. (No idea where the E came from.) One of their first accomplishments was cleaning up the Columbia Slough in Mutlnomah County. It honestly is a testament to what people can accomplish when they give it their all. The slough was horribly polluted back in the day, and it was cleaned up and has been kept clean largely through volunteer work. The Governor's been working on some similar initiatives in Wisconsin, so she was already familiar with the organization before we got to Oregon.

On the Governor's suggestion, the endorsement event was at the slough. The press arrived by bus, and we arrived by kayak. (Which is a palindrome, I just realized.) I think it was Chuck's idea. Jane should have put her foot down, but we'll see if that ever happens.

I'll admit, the kayaking was kind of fun. The press ate it up. Governor Gardiner made jokes about going back into the Navy when we reached dry land again--never mind that she was a pilot. The SOLVE people loved it too, because it demonstrated one of the reasons they threw so much time and work into the slough. It's a beautiful place, Gigi. Tons of cranes roosting on the shoreline. You should see it sometime. It used to be one of those places where people would come to dump things. SOLVE cleaned it up, made it a place where you could go kayaking without paddling through an oil slick or into an ancient Impala.

It is, however, incredibly muddy.

The Governor got out of her kayak and the rest of us followed. SOLVE's representatives talked first, introducing the Governor to the Oregon press. Most of the staff stayed a ways back in the water, but I was up front with the Governor. And then--I honestly don't know how this happened--I heard Lizzy shriek right before a splash. I turned around, and she was down in the water, barefoot, with Richard standing over her.

Neither of them will tell me what happened, but my best guess is Lizzy got herself stuck in the mud somehow and Richard tried to pull her out with more force than sense. We were all wearing appropriate boots, fortunately, but I guess he literally knocked her out of hers.

I'm afraid your brother was not very dignified running over to get his girlfriend out of the muck. Lizzy wasn't very dignified by then either. Richard was laughing so hard I thought he would hyperventilate. Lizzy would have murdered him, I think, if it hadn't been for the local news cameras on the bank. I guess I don't have to worry about her ever leaving me for him.

The campaign bus had pulled up by then, so I helped Lizzy out and got her over to the bus so she could change. Poor woman was shivering by the time we got in there. She cleaned up pretty quickly, and when we got back outside, it was Lizzy's turn to laugh. Richard was still stuck in the slough, and Chuck's attempts to help seemed to be getting him stuck too.

But eventually everyone got out of the mud and back on the bus. Before we left, I heard someone from SOLVE saying our antics reminded her of a coastal county's unofficial slogan, "the land of cheese, trees, and mud to your knees." I can't say I disagree. Neither does Lizzy.

We're starting to get meetings about Secret Service procedure. Not for the staff, obviously, but things are going to change for all of us soon. We don't really get to negotiate with them on anything, which is fine by me. They've got guns, and they're here to keep me from getting shot. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself. Next time we see you, you'll probably have to go through security first.

If you get a chance, call me tonight. We haven't talked in a while, and despite my propensity for long email, you know this isn't how I prefer to communicate.

I think you and Mary will be in Madison in a few days, once the nomination is in hand. I'll see you then. Love you.

Will

To: rjfitz73@ matlock.org
From: gldarcy89@ matlock.org
Re: Oregon

G

To: esbennet@ gfa.org
From: gldarcy89@ matlock.org
Re: Jane and Chuck!?

Lizzy

To: fwdarcy78@ matlock.org
From: gldarcy89@ matlock.org
Re: Light at the end of the tunnel

Will

To: esbennet@ gfa.org
From: gldarcy89@ matlock.org
Re: Jane and Chuck!?

G

To: gldarcy89@ matlock.org
From: esbennet@ gfa.org
Re: Jane and Chuck!?

Gigi, I didn't say we fight all the time, or even a lot. But trust me, your brother would not respect me if I just agreed with him all the time. He practically raised you. Your relationship with him isn't going to look like my relationship with him. And that's a good thing, because frankly it'd be creepy if it did.

I do think it's sweet that you're concerned. I don't know how you've dealt with or thought about Will's relationships in the past. I know you're close. But he *is* happy, Gigi, and I've never been happier than I am with him. Yes, we drive each other crazy sometimes, but you really have no idea how much fun that can be.

Has Will told you the adventure of the Columbia Slough? He really is such a sweetie sometimes.

Lizzy

To: esbennet@ gfa.org
From: gldarcy89@ matlock.org
Re: Columbia slough

Will told me about you ending up in the water, and Richard tried to tell me it wasn't his fault. But nothing my brother said would qualify as "sweetie" behavior!

G

To: gldarcy89@ matlock.org
From: esbennet@ gfa.org
Re: Your brother is crazy, in case you didn't know

I think Will's on to us. I keep catching him trying to look at my calendar when I have it up. It'd be irritating if it weren't so adorable.

(You don't mind me saying stuff like that, do you? Will really wants us to be friends, and it'd be weird not talking to one of my friends about my boyfriend. I'm not going to tell you things you don't want to know about your brother--I don't really talk about those things with anyone anyway. I just want to know where the boundaries are here. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.)

Anyway, the Columbia Slough. We got out of the kayaks and the SOLVE people wanted to set up right at the water's edge. Usually at this kind of event, the staff stays in arm's reach just in case we have to shut things down. This time, "in arm's reach" meant we were behind the Governor, standing in the water, and in the thickest mud I have ever encountered in my life. Richard and I stepped back from the group to have a bit of a private conversation, which I realize now we never actually did. I realized my boots were pretty firmly stuck in the mud, and there was no way I was getting out on my own.

Richard grabbed my arms and pulled. I wasn't really ready, and I just came out of the boots entirely and landed in the water. And then Richard had the audacity to laugh at me. Could have killed him. I know he's your cousin, but I hope we can agree he's sometimes a little bit worthless.

Will came splashing over as fast as he could, and the next thing I know, he's carrying me out of the water and back to the bus. That's what I meant by him being a sweetie. After I got cleaned up, we went back outside to discover that Richard and Chuck were both stuck out there. I guess it never occurred to them that, the laws of physics being what they are, one person pulling another out was going to get the second person stuck. I'm not sure how long they went back and forth before some of the SOLVE people went over and helped them. Took four people to free them successfully without anyone else getting stuck.

I do have to talk to Richard eventually, but you might be able to give me an answer on this. The campaign is going overseas in June. I think we're talking about England, Germany, and Israel. At the moment, the trip coincides with my grandfather's hundredth birthday. I'm reasonably certain the Governor will give me the time to see my family, but I'm giving thought to inviting Will to come with me. Do you think it's a good idea? Is meeting the family going to be even more intimidating when your command of their language is restricted to "How do I get to the Louvre?"

I'm probably overthinking this, but if you know if Will's got any specific aversion to summer in the French Alps, speak now or forever etc., etc...

Lizzy

To: esbennet@ gfa.org
From: gldarcy89@ matlock.org
Re: France

If he won't go, I will!!

G

"So have you talked to your sister lately?" Lizzy asked Will when they stepped out of the victory party for a moment of quiet.

"She won't spill the beans," Will said, low in her ear. "Whatever you've got planned is still a surprise."

Lizzy smiled up at him, and after a quick glance around she cupped the back of his neck and pulled him down for a long, slow kiss. Will's hands came to rest on her back and he pulled her closer but let her stay in control. She took his mouth over and over, relishing in every time he moaned and every time his fingers tightened on her back. Will was always so careful, so restrained, so dignified, and Lizzy loved making him unravel.

"Another such, and I am undone," he murmured when Lizzy left his mouth and began trailing kisses across his jaw.

She reached his ear and laughed lightly. "Am I a Pyrrhic victory for you now?"

"Always. Never."

Nuzzling his ear, she whispered, "Make up your mind, Fortinbras."

"I love you," he replied instead, and his posture shifted. Lizzy remembered when he had grabbed her and pinned her to the wall not that long ago, but he seemed content now to hold her tightly, breathing her in.

"I love you too," she whispered, resting against his chest and thinking she'd never been so happy as this in her life, and it had nothing to do with Governor Gardiner finally securing the nomination.

They were swaying in time with the music blaring from the party down the way. When they stilled, Lizzy lifted her head and Will kissed her cheek. She hadn't talked to Richard or the Governor yet, but the words came out of her mouth anyway. "Come with me to France."

"Absolutely," he said, making her laugh. "Just tell me when. I'll be there with bells on."

She giggled, even as he kissed her. "I mean it," she said, drawing away. "My grandfather's hundredth birthday is during the Governor's overseas trip next month. The whole family is gathering at a chalet in the Alps. Come with me."

The playfulness in his eyes was gone, replaced by surprise and a little worry. "Are you sure, Lizzy?"

She nodded. "I want you to meet my grandfather. He's an amazing man."

"Then I'll come," he said, with a whisper of a kiss.

If the party hadn't spilled into the hallway then, Lizzy might have found her resolve cracking. The ache for him was almost unbearable but she was so afraid of making a mistake, of hurting him or coming to regret him. Something traitorous in the back of her mind pointed out she could hurt him by waiting too long, but she pushed it back. When the time was right, she wouldn't remember her fears.

Will took her hand and led her back into the party. "Come dance with me."

She went with him gladly.