He pulls out his personal cell and calls something up, then shows me.
Yep, a picture of Kev fromyesterday on the front page ofWaPo, eyes closed, tears streaming down his cheeks, Leo’s arm around him, Kev’s hand on Lauren’s coffin.
Motherfucker. I’m going tokillBill Graham.
Sure, it’s a damned money-shot, but Kev’s hisfriend.
“That’s not the only one, obviously,” Leo says. “But when the local media realized Kev stayed behind, they were all over him at the Baltazars. And there werepress waiting on us when we landed in Dulles this morning.”
“What thehell? I told Secret Service to take care of you guys!”
“They did. Two agents, we flew back commercial. That’s why Kev told them to drop him at the townhouse. There was a crowd out there waiting to catch a glimpse of him, and he didn’t want to deal with reports of him only stopping by there and then coming to the White House.”
“Oh, jesusfuck!” I sink into my chair. Prophet will do anything to prevent a bad optic for me and the administration.
However, I refuse to be kept from him that long. “Tell him to get back here tonight,” I say. “He has a homehere, withus. The kids were asking about both of you. Heneedsus.”
He wearily sighs. “I’ll run up and say hi before I go home. I didn’t sleep much last night.”
“Talkto me, Leo. What happened?”
He leans against the door. “We sat up most of the night talking with her dad and some other relatives. Kev did a few shots with them. Her parents—and pretty much everyone else—told Kev how Laurenstilltalked about him, how every time they talked to her, or she visited, every other word out of her mouth was something about him. That while she said the right thingsto them, they got the distinct impression she was still in love with him and hadn’t moved on. Even though she hinted to them Kev had a boyfriend, but she was keeping that quiet for him.
“She apparently considered it her mission to help protect his reputation. Then they put us in the same guest room, and Kev asked me not to correct them because of the optics. There were other cousins and auntsand uncles staying with them, and considering when we got up this morning my inbox was flooded with journalists asking if Kev and I are a couple, I’m guessing in addition to the funeral pictures, someone there said something to someone.”
I groan. “Motherfucker.”
“Ma’am, she was hisbestfriend, and he was hers,” he gently says. Despite not wanting to hear this, I know I have to listen. “Helovedher. He felt guilty because of their divorce. He feels guilty that she came to work for him and maybe that’s why she was murdered. He feels guilty that she never had another serious relationship and was too busy helping him cover for what she thought she was covering for. Everything her parents said to him wasn’t meant to make him feel guilty, but that’sexactlywhat it did.”
“I know, Iknow.”
“He loves you, but you need to step back and give him space. You can’t help him right now. I know you’re kind of at a loose end without him here, but Shae, he is an empty well. He hasnothingto give you, and that’s heaping evenmoreguilt on him right now.”
Being president means giving up some things. Even things you love very deeply.
It also means being able to let go when required,no matter how painful.
I try one more time. “He can’t stay here with us and stay upstairs and not work?”
“You know how he is. If he’s here, he’s asleep or working. He’s been on a public stage he’s never had to inhabit in this particular way before, and he’s trying to find his footing. He’s never had to publicly grieve like this. Even when his mom died, he still had relative privacy, becausehe didn’t talk about it on the air.”
“His father sure did,” I grouse. “Fucking asshole.”
“Yeah, and that happened in West Virginia, too, which might as well be Mars as far as the rest of the country is concerned. She wasn’t a public figure.”
He’s right, I know he is, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I want to be the one holding Kev while he cries.
I want to be the one giving him the loveand energy and support he’s given me.
And it’s killing me that I can’t.
“Go on up and see the kids,” I tell him. “And please brief Chris on all that. He needs to hear that from you.”
He nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
He leaves my study door open behind him. Meanwhile, I sit back in my chair and wonder how far I’d get if I tried hiking out of here on foot to go see Kev before Secret Service grabbed myass and threw me in The Beast and hauled me back here.
Because I’m seriously considering it.
