Henry Wright was the head of my mother’s Secret Service detail.
“I’m fine. It’ll take a couple of days to fix, but I should still make it to Atlanta in time for my next stop,” I reassured her as I put the half-drunk bottle of Gatorade down on the table in front of the leather sofa and promptly forgot about it as I headed toward the back of the bus where the single bedroom was.
Everyone else slept in the cubby-like bunks that lined either side of the wall—everyone except for me.
Being the president’s daughter and an omega had at leastsomeperks, I guessed.
Flopping down into my haphazardly built nest, I let the cool, silky sheets brush past my sweaty skin as I listened to my mother fuss through the speaker.
“I couldn’t care less about whether you make it to Atlanta, Lennon Holloway,” she said sternly as I heard someone—probably McDaniels—give her a two-minute warning. “In fact, I have half of a mind to put you on a plane to Michigan tonight so I can keep an eye on you.”
Irritation at being treated like a child filled my chest and I had to fight to keep my tone even. “It’s fine, Mom, just a flat tire.”
“Need I remind you that you were literally almost kidnapped just a few months ago?” My mother’s voice was so tight with worry that I immediately felt guilty for my flippant attitude.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, wishing I could bury my head under the blankets and hide from her reproach. “But I am fine, Agent Onassis is already looking for a hotel and it might be a nice break.”
That at least wasn’t a lie. It felt as if I hadn’t stopped moving in the nearly two years since my mother’s attention had turned toward her second term. She was using it to run away from her grief over losing her husband and had dragged Carter and me right along with her.
Not that either of us wanted to dwell on the gaping hole my father’s death had left in our family.
“Like a vacation,” my mother provided, sounding immediately relieved. “A vacation will be good for you.”
I sat up and glanced out of the window at the surrounding fields. “Yeah, like a vacation,” I agreed, though I doubted there would be much relaxation to be found in the middle of nowhere Missouri.
But at least I would be able to sleep in a real bed—one that wasn’t constantly rumbling and swaying like the one that the tour bus offered. That in and of itself was a blessing.
“And maybe you and Carter can take another break when you get to Atlanta?” my mother asked hopefully. It was hard on both of us to be so far away from Carter when we usually spent most of our free time making sure my older brother didn’t fall off of the deep end into a relapse.
I knew that when my mother wasn’t thinking about leading the free world, Carter took up most of her other thoughts.
It was a fact of life I’d had to come to terms with over the past couple of years. Carter needed us now more than ever and my mother needed me to be her partner in taking care of him in place of my father.
I loved Carter, so it was easy—or at least that was what I had to keep repeating to myself as the familiar pit of dread filled my stomach.
There was never any telling which Carter I would get when I saw him again after being away for a month. Before I’d left on my tour he seemed at peace with being in his room composing his music… but there was always a tiny voice in my head telling me that the peace wouldn’t last long.
It never did.
“Yes,” I agreed again, holding back my sigh. “We were talking about maybe going to the aquarium.”
I could hear my mother’s breathing hitch on the other end of the line. Zoos, aquariums, and museums had always been our thing as a family. On the many, many campaign stops we’d gone on with my grandfather and later my mother, that was one thing we’d always made sure to stop and do.
Walking through the aquarium holding my mother and father’s hands had always made me feel almost normal.
Almost.
Being the granddaughter of a vice president and daughter of a president meant that whatever aquarium or zoo we were in had to be cleared out for a few hours for us because of security concerns.
“Maybe I’ll stop by the zoo here…” my mother murmured absentmindedly, like she was also remembering all of those times.
“Get me a magnet,” I joked, trying to lighten the sudden dip in the mood of our conversation.
My mother’s laugh was soft. “Only if you get me a whale plushie.”
There was a beat of silence before we both spoke at the same time. “Deal.”
“This isn’t so bad,” I said to myself as I dropped my bag on the bed of the best room in the Lilac Bed and Breakfast.
