A Political Affair (25 page)

“Oh, good.”

“But I want to tell them something in particular,” he said more seriously.

“What’s that?”

“Well, I should tell you first.” He took her hand in his again and gazed into her eyes. “I love you, and that’s not going to change.”

“That’s nice to hear,” she said softly.

He chuckled nervously. “Don’t you understand? I don’t ever want to be with anyone else.”

“You’ve said that before.”
 

“It’s not just that.” He grimaced in frustration. “I never want to be
without
you.”

His roundabout explanation finally made sense; she knew exactly what he meant. He felt the same sense of forever that she did. Her heart swelled, and she threw her arms around him. “And I don’t want to be without you. I love you.”

He kissed her briefly before becoming solemn again. “I don’t expect an answer or even a response to what I’m about to say. I’m not going to push you.”

“Push me? What do you mean?”
 

He took a deep breath and declared, “I want to marry you, Anne. I want to be your husband and you to be my wife. I want everything that entails—a life together forever.”

Her mouth dropped open as if to speak, but his words had taken every one of hers away. Marriage was the farthest thing from her mind.
 

Though she was quiet, he gently put two fingers to her lips to silence her. “Please,” he said and lowered his hand. “I can guess what you’re thinking, and it’s all very rational. We’ve only known each other a few months, and we’ve been together for even less. And you’re too young. Our futures are too uncertain—well, at least mine is. Yours is on track. Regardless, neither of us knows what city the other will be living in next December. I understand all the uncertainties, and I don’t want to pressure you. So I’m not asking you to marry me.”

His last words threw her for another loop, and her brow knitted together in confusion. A devilish grin appeared on his face. “At least, I’m not asking today. One day, I will. I promise.”
 

She smiled and shook her head in a combined feeling of joy and relief. “I love you, but why are you telling me this now?”

He kissed her hand. “I wanted you to know how I feel about you—how important you are to me—because I want to tell your family. It’s trite, but I want to let your father know my intentions.”

“Are you
sure
?” she joked.

Stephen laughed and pushed her hair behind her ear. “I’m so ready to marry you. If I thought you were ready, I’d ask you right now to elope with me tonight.”

It was all too much. Prior to that moment, she wouldn’t have believed anyone who told her that at the age of twenty-two she’d be talking with a man about marriage—let alone talking elopement with Stephen McEvoy. Her mouth gaped again, though this time she uttered a playful gasp. “You’re crazy.”

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “May I remind you that’s what everyone’s going to say about
both
of us?”

“We deserve it.” She giggled.
 

“Yes, we do,” he said as he pulled her into his arms.

Chapter 18

The next day, Anne stared at the bedroom alarm clock. Two forty—the time of reckoning. She needed to talk to her family before Stephen arrived at three. She looked around her room; with each passing year since she’d left for college, it seemed less like hers.
 

   
Though she’d redecorated over time, removing any reminders of high school and adding new things from college, her attachment to the place had waned. It was no longer her home because it wasn’t where she really
lived
. That thought made the task ahead of her seem a little easier.
 

She went downstairs and to the den, where her father and brother were entranced by the University of Colorado football game on the large television. Beside her dad, her mother sat in a matching leather recliner and searched for a new trifle recipe on her laptop.
 

None of them acknowledged her presence; it was simply expected she’d sit down and laze away the day with them. She took a seat on the other end of the sofa from Mark and waited a moment before taking a deep breath. In a controlled voice, she asked, “Can you turn off the TV? I need to tell you something.”

Her brother gave her an annoyed sideways glance. “No way, it’s the fourth quarter, and the game is tied.”

“You need to turn it off. This is important.”

He grumbled, and her mother chided him. “Mark, mute the game.”
 

Elton turned to his daughter, seeming more curious than concerned. “What’s so important?”

Her parents stared, their faces full of questions, and Anne realized she was about to tell them the truth for the first time since she’d started seeing Stephen. With a frown, she admitted her failings as a daughter. “I need to apologize. I’m really sorry, but I’ve been keeping something from you for a while now. I felt I had to do it because I didn’t know what I was going to do. I’m so sorry to have lied to you.”

At once, Mark’s attention turned away from the game and toward her. He gasped in alarm. “Oh my God, you’re pregnant.”

Anne rolled her eyes. While it was a reasonable guess on his part, she was annoyed he’d thought it. “
No
, of course not.”

Her mother placed her hand on her heart and exhaled. “Thank God.”

“Well, then, what is it?” Elton’s eyes narrowed.

“I need to tell you about someone I’m seeing.”

“I knew you were dating that Keith,” her mother said with a smile.
 

Anne looked down, ashamed by her mother’s warmth. It was time to lay her cards on the table. While she’d been dishonest with her family, everything else about her relationship with Stephen felt right—like it was supposed to have happened just as it had. She raised her head, and an unconscious smile spread across her face as she spoke. “It’s not Keith. It’s someone else, and despite all the problems around us being together, I’ve never been happier.”

“So who the hell is he?” her brother asked.
 

“It’s Stephen McEvoy.” She said his name with confidence and happiness, and a huge feeling of relief came over her.
 

The reactions around the room differed. Mary Beth’s mouth gaped, Elton’s brow slowly morphed into deep furrows, and Mark’s lip curled.
 

He leaned forward and asked, “You’re kidding, right?”
 

“Not kidding.” She shook her head, still smiling. “It’s been about two months.”

Mary Beth stole a brief glance at her husband. Anne knew the action well. It was the parental check-in they always did to confirm they were on the same page about any news or delicate topic. After twenty-seven years of marriage, they could confer simply with their eyes.
 

Mary Beth announced their joint opinion in the form of a question; she was incredulous and whispered their disappointment. “Oh, Anne, what have you done?”

Elton’s concerned expression turned into one of suspicion, and Mark chimed in with his own words. “What in the hell? You’re an intern in his office! Are you crazy?”

“I know what you’re thinking. I’ve thought the same things, and I understand your concerns.” Anne sat up straighter, showing her resolve. “Believe me; it took a long time before we got together. And I swear my relationship with Stephen isn’t like that. We’re serious.”

“Oh, I’ll bet he’s serious about you . . . about as serious as he is with any intern.”

“It’s not like that,” she repeated. She stared, hoping her brother would understand. They’d always taken up each other’s causes with their parents.
 

Yet this time she couldn’t convince him. He shook his head. “I wish you’d talked to me.”
 

Her mother’s expression soon changed from shock to anger. She pointed at Anne and snapped, “We did not raise you to be this kind of person and to be with a man like him. He’s your boss, and he has a horrible reputation. It’s beyond me how you could do this—”

“Mom, that’s not true. You raised me to be independent, to make careful decisions. I’ve done that—Stephen is different than you think.” She evaluated the stunned, angry faces around her and decided to show them just how different he was. “He’s coming over at three to meet you.”

“He’s coming here?” Mary Beth exclaimed. Her eyes flew to the antique clock on the mantle, which kept only semiaccurate time. “In eleven minutes?”

“More like eight,” Elton muttered, pointing to the time on the cable box. Anne looked at him and waited for some sort of reaction to the news, but he remained quiet.
 

“Great. He’s coming to visit.” Mark huffed. “What the fuck? I can’t believe you’ve done this to yourself; I can’t believe you’ve done it to this family.”

Her mother closed her eyes as if trying to find some calm in the storm. When she opened them, she gazed at her daughter and gave her a short, motherly lecture. “Anne, this is not going to end well, especially for you.”

“Mom, I know the risks. I went into this with my eyes open. It’s not like I got swept off my feet or taken advantage of.”
 

After she spoke, Elton finally reacted with a slow shake of his head, his mouth set in a hard line. “I’ve been listening, and it’s hard to believe any of what you just said.”

“What do you mean?” she demanded. A disappointed look from her father usually made her question herself. For the first time in her life, it didn’t. She was sure of what she felt for Stephen, and given those feelings, she was confident she’d acted appropriately.

When Elton didn’t answer immediately, Mark jumped in. “He means you’re being foolish. You’re twenty-two, still in college, and you’re having an affair with a United States Senator—one you work for and who, not to mention, is a
Democrat
.” He practically spat out the last word.

“Since when do you care about politics?” She was annoyed her lifelong comrade had let her down. “And I’m not having an affair. Neither of us is married.”
 

Mark raised an eyebrow. “A minor point.”

“No. A major point. It’s not sleazy.” She pursed her lips and gave one of her best defenses. “His entire family knows we’re together, including his mother. She’s very supportive.”

“Lillian McEvoy knows about you?” her mother asked in alarmed surprise.

Anne realized her mother might be a lost cause for a while, so she turned to her dad, who’d assumed his skeptical expression again. “Dad, please listen. You think I’ve been dumb and I was taken advantage of, but it’s not true. Doesn’t the fact that his mother supports us—and he’s coming to meet you—say something about our relationship . . . about him?”

“Frankly, it could say a lot of things, both positive and negative,” her father replied in a stern voice.

The chime of the doorbell rang through the house. Anne looked at her watch.
Thank God, he’s early. He must have guessed this wasn’t going to go well.
She announced with a forced smile. “That’s him.”

“So soon?” Mark glowered before turning his attention to the football game. She looked at her parents. Her mother muttered to herself as she put away her laptop, while her father moved his recliner upright and took a drink of his cold coffee. Neither of them spoke, so she left the room.

When she opened the door, Stephen stood on the edge of the porch and kicked snow off his boots. In jeans and a ski jacket, he looked decidedly un-senatorial. Seeing him as she loved him most, she smiled. “Hey. Come on in.”

“Hi,” he said as he looked up from his boots. He entered the house and gave her a quick kiss. “How’s it going?”

“Okay.” A twitch of her mouth revealed the truth.

“That well?” He grinned and whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”

When they entered the living room, Elton stood at once. Anne knew the action was ingrained in him from his military days—he always saluted the rank, even if he didn’t respect the man. Her mother and brother also rose, and Elton was the first to speak. He extended his hand to Stephen without a smile or formal greeting. “Senator McEvoy.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Norwood.” Stephen shook his hand. “Please, call me Stephen.”

Elton only nodded in response and turned to his wife. “This is my wife, Mary Beth.”
 

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Norwood.” Stephen smiled, eagerly shaking her hand.

His charm appeared to work. She smiled as her eyes darted between Anne and him. “Thank you for stopping by.”

Stephen reached out for Mark’s hand. “You must be Mark. Anne talks about you a lot.”

“Yeah. I bet.” He smirked as he gave Stephen a halfhearted handshake.
 

Once everyone was comfortably seated, Elton stared at Stephen. “So what’s going on here?” The phrase was casual, but the delivery was one from a career prosecutor—cold and direct.

Anne watched as Stephen’s body language changed. As if he was having a heart-to-heart with disgruntled constituents, he casually leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and hands clasped. He was confident and engaged in his response.
 

“Mr. Norwood, I suppose Anne has told you the basics, and I can understand why you’d be unhappy with our relationship. No parent would wish for this. And I know we’ve put you in a hard spot, politically. I’m sorry. I also wish I had met Anne under different circumstances. But despite the problematic situation we’re in, I don’t regret anything that’s happened between us.”

“Humph.” Mark shook his head, as if he was listening to sheer stupidity. “The regret comes later, in case you didn’t know.”

Stephen was undeterred; he sat upright and smiled at Anne as he took her hand. Meeting Elton’s stubborn glare, he spoke determinedly. “I don’t regret anything because I love her. And if she agrees, one day I hope to make her my wife. I understand I’ll have to earn your blessing.”

“You two want to get married?” Mary Beth screeched.
 

“Someday,” Anne replied in short, not wanting to dwell on the marriage issue.

“Oh my God,” Mark mumbled, as he rubbed his eyes.

“Will you knock it off? I don’t want to hear it from you,” Anne snapped. “You’re twenty-five years old, and the most serious relationship you’ve ever had was a summer fling in high school with Tammy Brewer, and all you did was sneak off to the barn every day.”