DUTCH AND GINA: AFTER THE FALL (9 page)

LaLa hadn’t expected a compliment. She smiled too. “Thank-you, Mr. President.”

Crader, who had forgo en to comment on her appearance, could have kicked himself.

“Sit back down, please,” Dutch said. “You needn’t stand every

me I make an appearance. You’re

prac cally family. And you, too, Roman,” Dutch said, as he moved to sit down himself. “Have a seat.” Roman, nobody’s fool, opted not to sit next to the First Lady this me but, instead, took a seat on the flanking bench. LaLa returned to her seat on her blanket.

“Hi, babe,” Gina said as she looked up at Dutch, using the endearment he usually reserved for her.

“Hey,” Dutch replied, as he moved to sit down beside her. He placed his hand in the small of Crader’s back as he moved. “S ll begging Lore a?” he said to Crader in a playful voice.

Crader was beyond embarrassed. “Dutch!” he said Crader was beyond embarrassed. “Dutch!” he said anxiously. “I’m not begging anybody.”

Dutch smiled. “Just kidding,” he said as he winked at smiling LaLa and sat beside his wife. He then turned his attention to Gina.

Gina immediately slid closer to him. He placed his arm around her when she did.

“You okay?” he asked her.

She nodded. “I’m good.”

LaLa smiled inwardly whenever she saw the two of them together. Dutch seemed to just cherish Gina in a way that LaLa could only dream about. Every man she’d ever dated, including the one standing in front of her now, broke her heart in the end. Gina used to have the same kind of outcomes. Until she met Dutch.

And the way Dutch didn’t just sit beside his wife and turn his a en on elsewhere as many men o en did, warmed LaLa’s heart. He, instead, seemed to be considering Gina, studying her, as if no one else ma ered but her. It was a small gesture that was so touching, and so foreign to LaLa’s experience with men, that she looked away.

Dutch, however, was s ll looking at his wife. “Why didn’t you eat breakfast this morning?” he asked her.

Gina had to think about this. “Wasn’t hungry I guess.”

Dutch let out a curt exhale. “You need to eat, Gina.”

“I do eat. I’m okay.”

“You are not okay. You’ve lost five pounds in the last couple of weeks.”

Gina smiled. “It was a very trauma c couple weeks, Dutch, even you have to admit that.” Then she frowned. “And how would you know how much weight I’ve lost? You haven’t put me on any scale.”

“Yes, I have,” Dutch said, giving her a knowing look.

He remembered this morning when he moved her on top of him, put his penis inside of her, placed his hands on her bare ass and slowly gyrated her for nearly half an hour. It was their usual morning get together that gave both of them that sensual, easy, relaxing pleasure before they had to face their often hectic day.

He remembered how wonderful it felt to be inside of her again; how she laid her head on his chest as he fucked her; how he rubbed her hair as she laid there.

He had no ced for months, par cularly during their early morning get-togethers, that she had been dropping pounds. But now it was accelera ng. And he knew it was once again all about stress; all about the price she had to pay after marrying him.

But it was still disturbing him mightily.

Gina started to ask about this supposed scale he had put her on, but that hooded look he gave to her made her understand. And remember too. And blush hot just thinking about that drawn-out, early morning grind session they had had; a session that could s ll be felt between her legs.

She decided to let it be.

“I just le your fair city,” Roman said to the president, picking up the conversa on, although he suddenly felt alone without the warmth of Gina’s body beside him. “Had to meet with a client. They seem to miss you two around the Beltway.”

“Oh, I’ll bet they do,” Dutch responded to laughter from Roman. Dutch, laughing too, crossed his legs and placed his arm across Gina’s shoulder, pulling her body closer against his. “And by missing me, I assume you mean criticizing me.”

“There ya’ go,” Roman said.

“I don’t think we’ve watched television once since we’ve been here. So enlighten us. What are they saying are my failings this time?”

“Oh, the usual,” Roman said. “ The right-wing ’s s ll

“Oh, the usual,” Roman said. “ The right-wing ’s s ll all up in arms. Only this me their biggest talking point, according to them now, is that you’re lazy and spend most of your presidency on vacation.”

“ O n
vacation
?” Gina asked, incredulously. “Dutch has never even taken a vacation! We came here just to get away for a couple of days and then that craziness happened. That’s why we’re s ll here. And Dutch has been working almost every day he’s been here. He even has a sizeable number of his assistants working feverishly in the guest house on Crader’s estate.” Roman nodded. “I understand that. But that’s the Washington game. They’re trying to behave as if you two had it all planned out just to extend your time away from DC. Oh, they’re having a field day in your absence.”

Gina shook her head. “I dread going back there,” she admitted.

“When will you guys return anyway?” Roman asked, looking from Gina to Dutch.

“Not for another week at least,” Dutch said. “After the G-8.”

“Oh, right. Well, if the conversa on around DC is any indication, they seem to miss you guys mightily.”

“So,” Dutch said, not interested in any Beltway conversa on in the least, “I take it you’re here about Marcus Rance?”

Roman glanced at Gina. “Yes, sir,” he said. When Dutch waited for him to explain, he leaned forward and clasped his hands together. He knew he had to play this exactly right. “As you know, sir, your brother-in-law’s hearing is tomorrow.”

Dutch nodded. “Gina has kept me informed.”

“We have the evidence, plenty of it, but I think we’re going to need more than just evidence.”

“More? Why? The point of the hearing, from what I understand, is to determine if there’s enough evidence to overturn a jury verdict and grant a new trial. If you don’t have enough evidence, what’s the point?”

“We have enough evidence,” Roman explained, “but I don’t know if you’re familiar with Texas justice, sir.”

“I know it’s a tough sell.”

“To say the least.”

“Especially for minorities,” Dutch added.

“Right,” Roman agreed. “Well, it’s my opinion, based on my considerable experience, that a crowd like that won’t be gran ng Marcus Rance any new trial unless we have more to proffer than mere evidence.” Dutch had no idea where he was going with this.

“I’m not following you, Roman,” he said. “If the evidence isn’t enough, what on earth would be enough?”

Roman swallowed hard, looked to Gina for assistance but Gina didn’t want to touch it either. “The First Lady, sir,” he said. “I would like her to go before the court and help me make the case for Marcus Rance.”

Dutch remained calm, but his heart was in his shoe.

He stared at Roman. “You want Gina, you want my wife to go into some courtroom--”

“Just to explain why we believe Marcus is innocent.”

“And you want Gina to explain it?”

Roman knew it was asking too much. “Yes,” he said.

Are you out of your f-ing mind
, Dutch wanted to say.

“But that hearing is scheduled for tomorrow,” he said instead.

“Yes, it’s tomorrow, that’s accurate.”

“Unless you’ve been on the moon somewhere, Roman, you must know that the U.S. delega on, led by me, leaves for the G-8 Summit tomorrow, one of the most important summits of a genera on given the economic instability around the world.” economic instability around the world.”

“I understand that, sir.”

“I don’t think you do, Roman, I don’t think you do.

Not if you think for a second that I’ll allow my wife to go to some Texas courthouse, or anywhere near Texas after what happened to her the last time she was there, to tes fy in some trial. And to go on the same day she has to be with me in Europe.”

“I know it’s a grave inconvenience, sir, I fully understand that it is. But this is a zero sum game for us. If my pe

on fails, Marcus Rance will, in all probability, remain in prison for the rest of his natural life. And I am convinced he’s innocent of the charges against him.”

“Be that as it may, Roman,” Dutch said, a emp ng migh ly to control his temper, “but Gina will not be participating.”

“ The thing is, sir,” Roman said, careful not to sound disrespectful, “she has already agreed to go.” Dutch stared at Roman. And then looked at Gina.

“I have to go, Dutch,” she said. “We can go to the trial and then fly to Brussels later that night.”

“No, Gina.”

His refusal to even see her point of view began to anger her. “But he’s my brother.”

“He’s your half-brother. A half-brother, by the way, you didn’t even know existed un ll a li le over a year ago. A half-brother you’ve only seen once in your en re life and that li le visit nearly cost you your own life. A half-brother who sold drugs and did God only knows what else.”

“I know all of that, Dutch. But what do you want me to do? He’s s ll my father’s son and I have to help him.”

Dutch frowned. “Help him do what? You don’t know shit about what went on during some drive by shoo ng, Gina, how can you help him? If he’s innocent, fine, wonderful, but the evidence and the evidence alone will have to bear that out. Not you.”

“But some mes evidence isn’t enough, Dutch. Not for an African-American male in a place like Texas. You said so yourself.”

“So you actually believe, given the climate in Texas, that you can sail into that courtroom, say some flowery words about a man who’s hardly a saint and, in fact, used to be a drug dealer, and those conserva ve Republicans are just going to stand up and applaud and grant him a new trial?”

“That’s not what we’re saying.”

“ The media will cas gate us if I allow you to do something that misguided.”

Gina couldn’t believe he went there. “I don’t care anything about any media!” she said. “Let them cas gate me, so what? I’ve fought for social jus ce on behalf of strangers all of my adult life, and now that my brother needs me to fight for him you expect me to just shirk my responsibility and forget about him?” Dutch let out a harsh exhale. He wasn’t feeling this. Everybody in that courtyard could tell he wasn’t feeling this.

But Gina had to make him feel it. “Before he turned his life around yes, he did a lot of bad things,” she said. “But he’s s ll my father’s son, Dutch, and if my father was alive today he would be ashamed of me if I didn’t act; if I allowed his own son to rot in some Texas prison just because it’s not poli cally expedient for me to get involved. I didn’t ask for this, Dutch, but I’m not backing down from it, either. I will be going to Texas to speak on Marcus behalf, and then I’ll fly to Europe to be with you for the Summit. But I am going to Texas.” Dutch suddenly stood up, promp ng Gina, and everybody else, to look at him in surprise.

everybody else, to look at him in surprise.

“Please excuse us,” he said to all assembled, and then held out his hand to Gina.

Although it was obvious to all of them, it was especially obvious to Gina that her usually super-cool husband was seething with anger. She therefore didn’t hesitate, and stood to her feet and took his hand.

Without saying another word, Dutch clasped Gina’s hand into his, squeezing it far too ghtly, and walked swi ly across the lawn toward the front door, the Secret Service following just as swi ly. Gina tried to keep pace with him, but her agility, she knew, wasn’t the point to Dutch. He wasn’t walking her to the house, he was prac cally dragging her there. That fact became even more apparent when he slung her inside the house and didn’t stop slinging her un ll they were entering their bedroom.

Dutch slammed the door shut and then flung her hard against the back of that door. They were so close that her breasts were pressed hard against his chest.

And his control was gone.

“Don’t you ever tell me what you will or will not do.

Do you understand me, Gina?”

“But you wouldn’t even try to understand my point of view.”

“ To hell with your point of view!” Dutch shouted.

“You’re not going to Texas, how’s that for a point of view? I paid for Roman Wilkes to represent your brother, I’ll pay for a team of lawyers to help with his defense, but you are not going to be among them.”

“He’s my brother, Dutch!”

“I know he’s your brother, and I know you take your responsibili es

seriously,

but

he’s

not

your

responsibility. You can’t help in this, I’m sorry, but you can’t. I won’t allow it.”

Dutch hesitated, a emp ng to calm down. “The last me you were in Texas and your motorcade fell under a ack, that nearly killed me, Gina. The idea of losing you, of something happening to you is more than I can bear. Don’t you understand that? My heart won’t take it, I’m telling you it won’t!”

Tears were now in his eyes, unable to be suppressed. “ This is not about your brother. It’s about me doing everything in my power to hold on to my wife. It’s my job to protect and take care of you and Little Walt, and that’s what I intend to do.” Gina stared at Dutch with that earnest look in her eyes, and she understood. She desperately wanted to help her brother, but not if it meant hurting Dutch.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” she felt a need to say as she placed her hands on either side of his face. “You’re right. We can’t risk it. And we won’t.”

“I know you want to help your brother,” he said, “but you can’t help him now.”

Gina nodded, tears now in her eyes. “I know.”

“I’m sorry he’s in that situa on, I truly am, but you didn’t put him there. And I can’t in good conscience--,” Gina covered his mouth with her finger, effec vely silencing him. “Don’t worry about that,” she said, moving to kiss him on the lips. “You don’t have to explain any further. I should have never told Roman I’d go. You have enough to worry about.”

Dutch closed his eyes as she kissed him, as her lips found his in a series of quick, but satisfying pecks.

“Roman will be there,” she said, s ll kissing him,