She shakes her head. “No, but I’m going to tell him everything now.”
“Do I get to meet him? I’d love to meet him while I’m here.”
She considers. “We could do that. I figured you’d want to get right back on the campaign trail.”
“I want to stay a little while longer. I’m really enjoying this time with you. And now we have something to celebrate.”
She takes a deep breath and blows it out. “Yes, we do. Oh, I’m so relieved, Reagan.”
She squeezes my hand, then picks up her phone and walks out onto her deck. I head to the guest room I’m staying in and grab my own phone, typing out a text to Jude.
Me: We got good news. All clear.
He responds right away.
Jude: Babe, that’s great. You must be relieved.
Me: I can’t even put into words how relieved I am.
Jude: Missing you bad. Can’t wait to have you back with me.
Me: About that…
Jude: Yeah?
Me: I want to stay and spend some more time with my mom. It’s been a long time since I’ve had time alone with her.
Jude: Sure, I understand.
Me: So just coded texts and phone calls for a little longer. ?
Jude: You’re worth the wait. Sorry, I’ve gtg. In an editorial board meeting.
Me: Knock ’em dead, Titan. I love you.
Jude: Love you too.
I put my phone down and relax into an armchair. This whole thing with my mom has really put things into perspective for me. For too long, I’ve been focused on poll numbers, campaign contributions, and political platforms. Jude and I both have.
We remind ourselves that we’re lucky to be here—in positions that allow us to truly change people’s lives. But it’s a grind, and what we don’t acknowledge often enough is the cost to our personal lives.
I need to clear my mind. I take a long, hot shower and pull my wet hair into a bun. The beach life is nice and low maintenance. No blow-dryers needed here.
Then I tell my mom I’m taking her out for lunch and some shopping today. We hit a local seafood place, and then she shows me all her favorite little boutique stores.
I buy way more than I should since I do have to fly back home eventually, but today I’ve decided to be impractical. I’m not going to hurry, stress, or worry. When we stop for ice cream at the end of our day, I only think about what sounds good, not why I shouldn’t be eating any of it.
“How are Kennedy and Chris doing?” my mom asks as we sit on a bench at the beach eating our ice cream.
I swipe a melting stream of chocolate ice cream from my rocky road cone. “I haven’t talked to Chris in a while. Kennedy’s really good. She and Nix took a month off to go on a big diving trip near the Philippines.”
“Wow. Diving?”
I nod. My mom accepted Chris and Kennedy, my father’s children from his longtime affair, without question. She knows none of what happened is their fault. Kennedy still struggles with the truth of it all. She didn’t know my father had another family either.
“Finding out about my brother and another sister was the only good that came out of all that,” I say, half to myself.
“I don’t know about that.”
