Chapter Twelve
One of the things I truly hate about my position is it leaves little room for personal grieving, or for incorporating anyone you wish into how you grieve.
The funeral is held eight days after their deaths. The children were moved yesterday, while we were all attending a memorial service at the college where Tory worked as a researcher. Last night they spent theirfirst night as the newest White House residents.
Kev stayed over, presumably in his bedroom, but once the children were asleep he joined us in ours, where he and I held Chris between us as he finally was able to let go and cry in heartbreaking sobs while we comforted him.
Today, as we sit at the graveside with Chris, I’m painfully aware of every telephoto lens, every camera, every cell phonepointed at us. Capturing the grief of three precious children, their grandparents, and us.
Chris holds Hudson in his lap, while I sit on his left, and Ivy and Myla sit on his right, with Shawna and Hudson Harris on the other side of them. Kev sits on my left, and I have to keep reminding myself not to reach over for his hand. Lauren sits on his left, and I could kiss that woman for being heretoday and supporting us. I don’t have to feel as guilty for leaving Kev out of public displays of affection. Leo sits directly behind me, next to Elliot.
I keep my right arm draped around Chris, and my left hand holding Hudson’s.
I’m still in shock, in some ways, even though I know I can’t show my true emotions. I have to keep them tightly capped and only express what the public will agree isan acceptable level of emotion without dipping into what might get labeled as histrionics or melodrama.
I’m now a mom. Not taking them isn’t an option I even considered. They’reourkids now, and I will fiercely protect them, and love them, and try to give them as good of a life as I can.
If I could graduate from high school a couple of years early, followed by college and law school, and endup president…I should be able to figure out how to be a mom.
It’s a full military funeral, because Charles was an Army vet, but they are being buried next to each other.
I know tomorrow’s front pages will show a picture of Chris standing and holding Hudson on his hip, both of them saluting Charles coffin. Or else it will be a picture of Chris’ tears as he wept when the officer knelt and presentedhim and Hudson and the girls with the folded flag that had adorned Charles’ coffin.
I’m honored that State Senator Benchley Evans is in attendance, accompanied by his son-in-law, Susa’s husband, Carter. Benchley was a dear friend of Momma’s, way back when, even from before they were both serving as senators together in the Florida state legislature.
Before that, Momma and Benchley worked forthe same law firm. Benchley’s wife, Michelle, stayed home because she’s recovering from the flu and not feeling up to traveling. They attended my inauguration, but that was so crazy, and my attention was pulled in so many directions, that I was barely able to do more than say hello to them and hug them. I’d hoped to have a little time with Benchley during the inauguration. He gave us crucial adviceduring my campaign, sitting down with Kevin several times, as well as pulling a few strings to get support for me from moderate GOP supporters who were sick of Fullmer and his far-right Evangelical minority base.
Chris, Kevin, Carter, and Owen have become quite close over the past several years, and not just because Carter and Kevin bounce ideas off each other and have formulated tactics lethalto the political opposition. They are also members of an exclusive club of powerful men who love powerful women, and who have secrets to keep.
During the last several years, I’ve reconnected with and become closer to Benchley, and his wife. Momma named them my godparents when I was born, but since I grew up mostly in Tallahassee and their house was outside of Brandon, I barely knew them and theyfelt more like distant relatives. I remember spending time with them when I was a little kid. Once Benchley was elected to state office and serving in Tallahassee, I was usually too busy with my own studies and life to spend much time with him and Michelle.
There will be a wake after the graveside service, but I’m not going. That would be a security nightmare. It’s already enough of one for Chrisand the kids, but Lauren and Kevin will be with them. Chris made that call after I left the decision up to him.
I’m not sure if it was husband Chris who decided that, Uncle Chris who’s now Chris the dad, First Spouse Mr. Bruunt, Special Agent Bruunt, or Priest, but it doesn’t matter—it was his call to make. The kids have been through enough, and will already be uprooted. I want Tory’s parentsand Chris able to visit with family and friends without half an army surrounding them.
I’ve already said goodbye to Chris and the kids and Tory’s parents, and they are making their way toward their limos. Carter is having a brief private chat with Kevin before they head toward the motorcade. Elliot, Leo, and other key staffers have already departed, some on their way back to the White House.
I turn to Benchley. “Youarestill coming to the White House for dinner tonight, right?” I’ve wanted him and his wife to come up for a visit, but something always gets in the way, usually my schedule.
Benchley flashes me the winning smile that served him so well throughout his political career. “Can I ask a favor, President Samuels?”
I smile back. “Depends. I’m not allowed to nuke anyone, orso I’ve been told. And you can call me Shae. You’ve known me since I was a baby.”
He glances around and leans in, dropping his voice. “Can I ride back with you now? Please? I’m tired, and I can send Carter on to the wake. I’d love to be able to say I rode in a presidential motorcade at least once in my life.”
This Icando. He and Carter both have already been cleared for full access to us andthe White House. It’s the least I can do for an old family friend.
“Absolutely, Senator Evans.” I grin and hold out my arm for him to take. We almost lost him years ago to a serious heart attack, so I’m grateful for his presence now. My path to the White House was definitely smoothed by his sage wisdom about Floridian voters and politics. Kevin has him on speed-dial, I think.
“I’m so proud ofyou, Shae,” he says as we slowly make our way at his speed down the hill toward The Beast with a circle of Secret Service agents surrounding us at a discreet distance. “Your momma…” He chokes up. “She’d be proud of you, too.”
I blink back tears. “Thanks, Benchley.”
Once we’re alone and underway, he sighs. “I have to be honest—I hope SusieJo decides she doesn’t want to go any farther than governor.”
“Why?” That’s surprising, considering Benchley is a major GOP operative in Florida. Benchley is the last person I ever would have thought I’d hear words like that from. He would have run for governor himself had it not been for the heart attack. Michelle put her foot down and ended his career as an elected official once his final term in the state Senate elapsed.
Didn’t end his involvement inpolitics, though, and he’s still a kick-ass attorney and political operative, although he’s mostly retired from law practice.
