The Candidate's Wife (14 page)

Julia slowed the car as she hit a cluster of Friday afternoon traffic. Red tail lights flashed at her as she pondered her reaction to Adam's harsh words. Why had his unfairness provoked so much pain -- not just anger, but real, gut-wrenching pain? Adam, too, had overreacted. He was far too good a politician to let her get under his skin, to lose control the way he had today. Unless he felt something for Julia, something more than friendship. . . .

Julia let out a long, wistful sigh. She couldn't afford to think along those lines. And yet, she couldn't lie to herself, either. Her feelings for Adam went beyond respect and admiration. They went deeper than sexual desire. She had nearly let herself fall in love with him. But that was before the scene in his office. His harsh words had snuffed the flame kindling in her heart. Or had they? She sighed again.

"Mom? What's wrong?"

She reached over and mussed Danny's hair. "Nothing much, buddy. Nothing a pint of cookie-dough ice cream and a little time won't fix."

But even as she said them, she heard the lie in her words. She should never have let Adam get so close, physically and emotionally. She felt as if she'd been cut adrift in a sea of misery, abandoned in a lifeboat without a hope of rescue. She should never have let herself care about Adam. After the painful end of her first marriage, she ought to have learned her lesson.

Her first marriage. Julia glanced over at Danny, who was busy decimating a fleet of alien ships on the hand-held video game his Uncle Sean had given him. Despite everything Frank had done, Julia could never regret Danny's birth. Now, as they hurtled south toward Cypress Point, she wondered briefly whether she should tell Danny that she'd seen his father. But what would she say? That Frank had shown no interest in seeing his son? That he'd demanded money, and then threatened her? She shuddered and tried to push the matter from her mind.

Again, Danny glanced up from his game. "Mom? Are you mad at Adam?"

Julia shrugged, then nodded. Her son was too perceptive; she couldn't lie to him and get away with it. "Yeah, I am mad at him, Danny."

"So that's why we're going to Gran's?"

"Pretty much. I guess just need a break."

"And then after you have a break, we'll go back, won't we?"

Julia looked over at him. His eyebrows drew together and upward, a sure sign that he was worried. "Hey," she said, trying to turn it into a joke, "where's Danny? What have you done with him? My son didn't want to leave Cypress Point."

Danny shrugged. "I guess I didn't, at first. But I like playing at Mike's, and school's all right."

"Didn't you say just two days ago that you hated your teacher?"

He squirmed in his seat. "Yeah, I did. But today we did a unit on politics and stuff, and Mrs. Molnar talked about the election. Then afterwards I told some kids that you were married to Adam, and they thought that was pretty cool."

Julia raised one eyebrow. "So you're a big man on campus now, is that it?"

"Sort of." He grinned at her. "Plus, we have to go back before Adam moves into the governor's mansion, so I can have my next birthday party there. That would be really awesome, don't you think, Mom?"

Slowly, she nodded. "That would be awesome, all right. But you know Adam might not win, don't you?"

"He's the best candidate. He'll win."

Julia had to laugh at her son's confident tone. "I hope you're right, Danny. I sure do hope you're right."

It was just after six o'clock when the Julia and Danny reached their destination. They'd made good time, stopping only for a french fries, Slurpies, and two bathroom breaks.

At the front door, Julia's mother welcomed her with a long, silent hug. When Julia pulled away at last, her mother gave her a sympathetic smile. "I changed the sheets in your old bedroom, Julia. Dinner will be ready in half an hour."

"Thanks, Mom. I know this was kind of last minute --"

"You know you're always welcome here." Her mother paused. "There's a message for you on the chalkboard in the kitchen. A man trying to reach you all afternoon. He sounded pretty worried."

Julia's heart skipped a beat. "Adam?"

Her mother shook her head. "He said his name's Phil. Does that ring a bell?"

Julia nodded as she experienced a strange mingling of disappointment and relief. "I'll call him. Thanks, Mom."

Her mother scrutinized her face. "If Adam does call, what should I tell him?"

"Tell him --" Julia hesitated, then settled on the truth. It was her lies that had landed her in this mess in the first place, lies and Adam's stubbornness. "Tell him I don't want to talk to him. Not now."

"Fine." Her mother paused, started to say more, then closed her mouth again.

Julia yawned. Despite the early hour, her limbs felt leaden and her eyelids drooped. The day's long drive and turbulent emotions had left her drained. "If you don't mind," she said, "I'll skip dinner and go straight to bed. Will you see about Danny?"

Her mother gave her another, briefer hug. "Of course, sweetheart. You rest up."

Julia barely managed to climb the stairs to her old room. When she'd washed her face, brushed her teeth, and changed into an old, threadbare pair of flannel pajamas, she sat on the edge of her bed to dial the familiar number for campaign headquarters. Phil immediately came on the line.

"Julia! Are you all right?"

The warm concern in the old man's voice finally pushed Julia over the edge. For the first time since that terrible moment in Adam's office, she began to cry. "N-not really, Phil. Adam said -- he thinks I --" Tears overflowed, trickled down her cheeks, and splashed her pajama top.

"I know, my dear. I know. But he's wrong, isn't he?"

With her sleeve, Julia blotted away the fresh tears welling up in her eyes. "Of course he's wrong! You don't really believe I'd hurt the campaign, do you? Or that I'd -- that I'd hurt Adam?"

"No. Of course you wouldn't. I'm sorry now that I followed you, Julia, and I know there's another explanation for what I saw. But you've got to convince Adam of that."

"I tried, Phil, but he wouldn't listen."

On the other end of the line, Phil heaved a sigh. "He can be difficult, Julia. I know that as well as anyone. But he hasn't had an easy life, you know. In some ways, Adam is still a child living with another of his father's affairs, another broken promise, another betrayal. That's why he behaved so badly. He cares about you, and he thought you'd deceived him."

Julia felt a pang of sympathy for Adam, but she quickly hardened her heart. "Look, Phil, Adam's told me told a little bit about his childhood, but it still doesn't excuse the way he treated me."

"I know. Just give him a little time."

Julia fumbled for a tissue, then blew her nose. "Is Adam very angry with me for leaving?"

"He's furious, but he'll get over it. We can cover for you. If there are press inquiries, we'll just say that you're visiting your family. It'll be fine -- for a while, at least. Take care of yourself, my dear."

"Thanks, Phil."

Julia said goodbye, then replaced the receiver in its cradle. She switched off her lamp and curled up on the twin bed. Every few seconds, a new tear slipped down her cheek and dampened the pillowcase. After a few minutes, Julia pulled her favorite afghan up around her shoulders. Quietly, so as not to disturb her family, Julia cried herself to sleep.

"Honey, before you look at the Times this morning, there's something you should know. . . ."

Julia glanced up from her corn flakes and frowned at her mother's apprehensive tone. Still, nothing could make her feel much worse than she already did, even as she sat in the familiar, sunshine-flooded kitchen on her second day back home in Cypress Point.

She set down her spoon. "What is it, Mom?"

"Well, there's a photo on the front page that might upset you." Her mother drew the newspaper from behind her back and pressed it against the floral bodice of her housedress. "At first I thought I'd throw it out. But since you always read the paper in the morning, I knew you'd wonder."

"I can handle it, I promise. Let's see."

Reluctantly, her mother offered up the newspaper's front section. "I'm sure it doesn't mean anything, Julia. Adam did try to call you six times yesterday."

Julia stifled a sigh as she took the paper. Bad news. Just what she needed. Something about Adam's campaign? Had the media discovered her unexplained absence? She glanced at the front page.

The full-color photograph ran above the fold, with no story, just a caption. "'While the cat's away. . ." it read. "With his wife out of town, Senator Carmichael enjoys a little night life." The picture showed Adam in a tuxedo, at the opening of a new play, one Julia still wanted to see. At his side stood a familiar-looking woman.
Julia had seen
those high cheekbones somewhere before, probably in the pages of a glossy magazine.

The woman wore a bias-cut silk green silk dress that showed off her ample breasts and a stunning emerald necklace. The gemstones, Julia th
ought cattily, looked genuine, but t
he cleavage did not. In the photo, the woman gazed adoringly up at Adam's face.

Julia felt a sudden, sharp pain in her stomach, like an unexpected blow. She knew she ought to be concerned about the photo's effect on Adam's campaign, but she wasn't. What she felt, instead, was a pang of sexual jealousy so intense it made her head spin, along with a strong sense of humiliation. That bastard! What was he thinking? If he didn't care about her, he might at least think about his campaign.

Somehow, she managed to set the newspaper aside with a studied expression of unconcern. "It's all right, Mom. It doesn't mean anything."

Her mother's brows drew together. She made an anxious, mother-hen clucking sound. "You can't fool me, honey. You are upset. Are you sure you don't want to --"

Whatever she had been about to ask was muffled by the sound of the doorbell. Julia's mother frowned, crossed to the kitchen window, and pulled aside the red-and-white checked curtains.

Julia pushed her cereal bowl aside, no longer hungry. "If it's the media, I'm not home."

Her mother pressed an anxious hand to her heart as the bell buzzed a second time. "It's not the press. It's Adam. You don't have to see him, you know. Should I tell him you've gone out?"

Julia wet her dry lips. Her knees felt weak and watery as she pushed herself away from the table. Her first instinct was to run and hide, to bury her head in the sand and pretend she'd never met and then married Adam Carmichael. But she knew she couldn't avoid a confrontation forever. "No, it's fine," she said. "I'll see him in the living room." She hesitated. "Alone."

While her mother rushed to answer the door, Julia slipped into the living room. She glanced at her reflection in one of her brother Matt's old
water polo
trophies, which sat on the mantle above the fireplace, and scowled. She hadn't bothered to do more than run a comb through her dark hair, which
hung loose and wavy around her shoulders. She wore no makeup at all, which made her look young and vulnerable -- not at all the impression she wanted to make today.

But she had no time to change, so she smoothed her T-shirt, arranged herself on the couch, and hid her bare feet under the coffee table. She took three deep, calming breaths and waited.

Adam, like her brothers, had to duck his head a little to enter the living room. He wore dark denim jeans and a white polo shirt that showed off his broad shoulders and tanned, sinewy arms. He stood before her, his hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet a little, his head bowed. Julia couldn't forget the expression on his face the last time she'd seen him: rigid, scornful, contemptuous. Now his obvious humility startled her.

But, of course, Adam was a master of manipulation. He needed her. Only with his loyal wife at his side could he combat the rumors of his infidelity. Julia stiffened her spine and refused to return Adam's contrite smile. She had promised to help him win his campaign, and Julia always kept her promises. Still, she wouldn't forgive him for his accusations. Her duty didn't extend that far.

"I tried to call you," Adam said softly.

"I know. My mother told me."

Adam eased himself down into the overstuffed chair opposite the couch. "Are you all right?"

"Fine." She pressed her knees together to stop them from shaking.

"And Danny?"

"Fine. Visiting one of his old school friends today."

There was a moment's silence, then they both spoke at once. "Julia, we found out --"

"Adam, about the newspaper --"

He laughed, but she noticed that his fingertips beat an anxious tattoo into the top of the coffee table. "Go ahead," he said.

Julia twirled a lock of hair around her index finger as she spoke quick, angry words. "I saw the photo in the Times. If you were trying to embarrass me, well, maybe it worked. But you're also losing votes." Adam opened his mouth, but she held up her hand and plunged ahead. "I know you need me by your side, now more than ever. I made a deal with you, that first day in your office, and I mean to honor it. Even after you've treated me so badly."