The Senator's Daughter (23 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“T
HIS
IS
ONE
of the best manuscripts we've received in recent history.”

Kat nodded at the jolly old man who was the senior editor at Harvard University Press. True to his promise, Dean Gladstone had gotten her a publishing contract in record time. They were discussing the final details now.

“Normally, I have pages of edits that need to be made, but aside from some proofing, I think this is ready to go. Now, getting it out before the election is a bit challenging...”

Kat leaned forward. “Sir, if Senator Roberts loses the election, this book will be worthless.”

“Yes, but if he wins...”

“It's rare to produce a piece of writing that'll affect a voter's decision. I wrote this book so that the people of Virginia, those who care to, can make an educated decision. I was critical of the senator's war policies until I visited Iraq to see the on-the-ground impact of our work there. I truly believe there is no right or wrong side, just an informed one.”

“Dr. Driscoll, have you considered running for Congress?”

She laughed, but stopped when she saw the earnest look in his eyes. “You're serious?”

“This manuscript—” he stabbed at the thick sheaf of papers in front of him “—it moved a surly old man like me to tears. You have empathy and a strong sense of right and wrong, something I wish more of our leaders had.” He pointed to the newspaper lying on his desk. “Surely you know that the incumbent from your very own district had to resign because of allegations he laundered money. The Democratic Party is in a bit of a scramble trying to find a suitable replacement this close to the election. You already have name recognition. And once this book comes out, you'll win.”

She stared at the editor.
He's serious!
“I'm sure they have a plan, and it does not include the media-shy daughter of a Republican senator.”

He raised his bushy brows then took a card from his desk drawer and slid it toward her. “The DNC chair is a friend of mine. He'll happily take your call if you want to consider it. Think of it this way—you won't have to go back to working for Gladstone the bear.”

She stifled a laugh; the nickname fit.
It's a crazy idea. I'd be in the spotlight constantly.
She pocketed the card.

“Okay, so if we want this published before the election, our work is cut out for us,” the editor said, moving on to the task at hand.

When the meeting was finished several hours later, Kat touched the card in her pocket. Writing the book had reminded her of the speech she'd given to the troops in Iraq. She had notes, tons of them, but the reason she'd written it so quickly was because she hadn't needed them. The words flew out with brutal honesty, from her heart. When she'd pictured her father as an unknown politician, she envisioned a man who spoke the truth, someone who declined campaign contributions and didn't promise chits he couldn't morally justify. A man who would save those babies in Guam. She'd come to learn that such politicians were only figments of her imagination. They didn't exist in real life. But
what if
...

She shook her head. It was a crazy thought. She remembered how she'd felt seeing all those ugly pictures of herself when the CNN story broke. She could never go through that again.

Her flight from Boston to Richmond was late. Normally she'd be worried sick about her mother, but she was free from that now. Her mother was safely at the senator's mansion in McLean planning a “small but tasteful” wedding. The last guest list Crista had shared with Kat, back when they were on speaking terms, had well over five hundred names. Kat was not going to interfere. Her mother was flourishing, and that was all she cared about. Emilia seemed happy without the manic euphoria that usually followed a good mood. Emilia was taking her medications and the senator seemed genuinely happy to have her with him. Though Vickie and Walt didn't live in the house, they'd called Kat to assure her that they, too, would check on her mother every chance they got.

It seemed her mother didn't need Kat anymore. Emilia's words came back to her.
“You're using me as an excuse not to get close to anyone.”
Was that what she was doing?

She made her way to the airport gate, found a seat in the crowded departure area and opened her laptop. She could use the time to finalize the syllabus for her fall classes at the college, a task she'd put off as long as she could. Going back to a lecture hall and talking about laws and policies seemed hypocritical. What was the point in philosophizing about how the world could be a better place if politicians did things differently? She felt for the card in her pocket again.
What if?

She opened her laptop and saw an email marked urgent from Crista on her college email account.
Delete!
After Crista asked, then insisted and finally threatened her not to publish the manuscript, Kat had quit the campaign. Just like that, their friendship was over. The request Kat had been waiting for, the one she knew she wouldn't be able to fulfill, had come.

“Are you Kat Driscoll?”

A flash blinded her as she looked up. She blinked several times to see a large, redheaded woman holding out a cell phone.

“I knew it was you. Oh, my God, can we take a selfie?” Before Kat could protest, the woman wrapped an arm around Kat and positioned the phone in front of their faces. Kat forced herself to smile when she saw the picture on screen, grateful that she'd dressed up and put on some makeup for the meeting with the editor.

“I just can't believe it's you.”

There hadn't been any stories about her in almost two months. She was surprised someone had recognized her.

“I mean, what are the chances. I'm sitting here watching TV and suddenly I see the person they're talking about.”

Kat went cold. Several people were starting to stare at her now. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, honey, you're all over Fox News. They're talking about how you're getting revenge on your daddy for breaking your mama's heart.”

“Excuse me, Kat Driscoll?” This time it was a young woman with a baby balanced on one hip and a phone out in the other hand. Kat shook her head, stood and grabbed her stuff. She finally found an empty gate and did a Google search for her name. There were several news items about her from the past hour or so. Different headlines, but the gist was always the same: pieces of her manuscript had been leaked. News outlets were openly debating whether she had written the book because she was opposed to the senator's marriage to her mother.

Retrieving her phone, she realized she'd put it in flight mode when she entered the airport. When she set it back to cellular, it lit up with dozens of missed calls, including several from her mother, the senator, Crista, Vickie and quite a few unknown numbers.

Alex had betrayed her. She had purposely given him a paper copy of the manuscript and he hadn't wasted any time in sharing it with Crista. The two of them had leaked it. He'd chosen the senator and his career over her. He'd broken his promise to protect her from the media. Yet another betrayal.

The TV screen caught her eye and she stared at her picture. At least this time it was one of the shots the campaign had taken, far more flattering than her college mug shot. She waited for the familiar tightening in her chest, but it didn't come.

She slammed the lid of her laptop and silenced her phone. It was time to stop being the victim. Retrieving the card from her pocket, she dialed the number.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“Y
OU
HAVE
GOT
to be kidding me.”

Alex didn't know whether to console Crista or laugh. They were in the campaign-headquarters conference room. Crista had rallied the troops to capitalize on the leaked manuscript story. Except, it hadn't turned out as Crista planned.

The senator stormed into the room. He had heard the press conference on the radio on his way over.

“How did this happen?”

He was greeted with silence. Crista finally broke it. “The DNC orchestrated it. This is to slam you in the polls.”

“Is this real? Can she do this?”

Crista nodded unhappily. “The DNC got a ruling from the Virginia Board of Elections to get her added to the ballot even though it's after the filing deadline. The RNC didn't know.”

The senator turned to Alex. “Did she tell you she was going to do this?”

He shook his head and stared at the TV. Kat didn't look glamorous; she didn't sound adequately rehearsed. But just like the speech she'd given the troops, her sincerity carried her through. And he knew without a doubt that she'd make the best congresswoman the United States had ever seen.

All eyes turned to him. “Alex, you have to fix this.”

He faced the room. His eyes locked on the senator's. The first boss he'd ever respected, and still did. Except somewhere along the way, Alex had sold out and really become one of them. With a clarity he hadn't had since he met Kat, he knew what he had to do.

* * *

“K
ATERINA
,
WHAT
HAVE
you done!”

What is she doing here?

Kat stared into her mother's wild eyes, then pushed past her into the house. She set down her purse and went into her bedroom. She'd known it was only a matter of time.

Her mother followed her. “And what have you done with my furniture? Where is the couch?”

“In storage,” Kat said calmly. She had gotten a nice advance from the publisher for her book, so she'd redecorated, buying new furniture and hanging pictures on the walls, making the place hers. “You moved out, remember.”

“I have a dinner party tomorrow and nothing to wear!” her mother screamed. She lifted Kat's bedspread, throwing it onto the floor. “Have you seen my suitcase? I can't find it anywhere.”

Kat stepped on a stool to retrieve the box she kept on the top shelf of the closet.

“I don't want that.” Her mother grabbed her hand but Kat was quicker. She deftly clasped the prefilled syringe from the box and stepped down. Her mother screamed and ran into her former bedroom. Kat had removed the lock from that room when they first moved in. Her mother was in the bed hiding underneath the covers. Kat double-checked the dosage in the syringe and primed it. She'd been expecting this. The big wedding the senator was planning had been taxing her mother. How many times had she asked her mother to come visit, hoping to give her a break from the wedding preparations? But Emilia always made an excuse. This episode was weeks—even months—in the making.

“Mom,” she pleaded softly. “We've been through this before. You know the medicine makes you feel better.” Most of the time she could talk her mother into it. If not, she'd have to call the nursing company to watch her mother until she was reasonable enough to take the medicine.

Emilia emerged from underneath the covers and held out a phone. “You can't do this to me.”

Kat frowned at the phone as she heard the muffled sound of her name being called. She put the phone to her ear. It was the senator. Kat stiffened. She hadn't talked to him since he'd called to congratulate her on running for Congress, even joking about being the first Republican and Democrat to break bread together. Despite his cheery facade, she could tell the senator was upset. Crista had stopped talking to her altogether, and all she'd gotten from Alex was a text that said “nicely done” and a box of dark nut chocolates.

“Kat, I understand there's a problem with your mother.”

Kat took a breath. “My mother is having a manic episode and I need to give her a shot of Haldol to stabilize her before she hurts herself or someone else.”

“Your mother doesn't wish to have the treatment, Kat.”

Of course she didn't. “Fine, then. You come here and deal with it.” She ended the call without waiting for an answer.

She closed the door behind her and put the syringe on top of the refrigerator. She retrieved her new tablet computer from her purse and took a seat on her new couch. There were a ton of emails and text messages to respond to along with a number of media requests. She took care of those first. The DNC had advised her to get a campaign manager soon. Running for Congress was a big risk, but for once in her life, it felt good to be the one calling the shots. The one dictating what happened in her life.

Her mother's condition would normally have her in a frenzy, calling doctors, prefilling syringes, preparing to call in sick for work. No more. Kat didn't need to be her round-the-clock nurse. She had chosen that role because it was easier to be needed by her mother than rejected by her friends.

The senator must have been at campaign headquarters because the doorbell rang an hour later. Kat shouldered her purse.

“She's in the bedroom. Her doctor's information is on the refrigerator and the syringe of Haldol is on top. Good luck.”

“Kat, I need you here.”

“No, you don't. You want to marry my mother—learn to take care of her.”

She walked out, leaving the senator standing in her living room.

It was a good opportunity to drive to her faculty office to pack up. Much to the chagrin of Dean Gladstone, she'd officially resigned from her position. The manuscript leak had backfired on the senator's campaign. They had counted on Kat's silence to direct the narrative, but when she made her announcement to run for Congress on the Democratic ticket, the conversation changed. Her publication date had been pushed up to capitalize on the press, and though she'd made her announcement only a week ago, the publisher was already reporting record-breaking preorders.

Dean Gladstone had called to offer her a promotion, which she politely declined. With the senator taking care of her mother's medical bills, Kat could comfortably support herself with the projected royalties from her book. If she didn't win the congressional seat, there were several universities that would hire her.

While she was packing up, various faculty members stopped by to wish her well. The DNC thought she had a fair chance at winning the congressional seat. Without even starting her campaign, she was already ahead in the polls, thanks to the leaked manuscript. Donors were mailing checks to the DNC in her name, and she didn't even have a bank account to deposit them in yet. Before shutting down her computer, she searched her name. There were multiple articles on her. Even more pictures.

It hadn't been easy, standing in front of the cameras, blinking against the constant flash of lights. Her mouth had been so dry that for several seconds she couldn't even choke out the words she'd practiced. Then she'd remembered the last time she'd given a speech she didn't want to give. It had been at the base in Iraq. At the time, she had looked at Alex and found the strength to continue.

But Alex hadn't been with her during the first press conference of her life. And yet it had been the thought of him watching her, the way he'd looked at her in Iraq, that got her through it.

She closed the computer without reading the articles. It didn't matter what they said; she was going to do things the way she wanted to, live her life according to her own rules. But could she do it without Alex? More important, did she want to?

It was bittersweet to pick up the cardboard box that contained her meager office knickknacks and walk out. Somehow she knew she'd never return to teaching.

She pulled up to her house, and the neighbor's dog barked as she stepped onto the driveway. She had been gone only an hour, but it was the first time her father had come face-to-face with what it really meant to take care of her mother. Kat was prepared to find him running far, far away. No one ever stayed to pick up the pieces.

She marched over to the fence and stood on her tiptoes to peer over it. Rex was a small rottweiler. She realized she'd never actually seen the dog, just heard him barking every time she came home. The dog had brown eyes, and he moaned as he looked at her, tilting his head. He gave a small yelp and pawed at the fence. She reached over, getting her hand as close to him as she could. Rex stood on his hind legs and put his nose in the air, sniffing.

She shook her head, smiling. “You just want me to come say hello, don't you?” The dog yelped. “You bark because you're scared and alone.”

Rex gave a short bark and licked her hand.

She found her mother and the senator sitting on the couch. He had his arm wrapped around her.

“So you got her to take the Haldol.”

The senator shook his head and Kat went to the refrigerator to see the syringe still full.

“I was waiting for you before I take her to the doctor.”

Kat considered the two of them. She'd never brought her mother down from an episode without drugs. Her parents exchanged glances, then stood.

“Kat, I know you love your mother very much, and you're trying to protect her. I really do love her, and when I said I wanted to take care of her, I meant it. No matter what it takes. I hope I've shown you that today.”

This was what she wanted more than anything, to have the freedom to live her own life. To see her mother happy. And yet she felt gutted.

“Katerina, it's time, baby. It's time to let go of me.”

But if I let go of you, Mom, I have no excuse.

She stepped up to the senator. “I didn't mean to hurt you with that manuscript. I wrote it honestly, from my heart. And I didn't plan to run for Congress—it fell in my lap.” The senator's polls were bad. Since her announcement to run and the interviews she'd done, he was so far behind, losing the election was a foregone conclusion.

He nodded. “I know. Truth be told, you might have done me a favor. I've been too scared to consider what it might be like not to be a senator. Being in office has been my entire life.”

“I'm sure you can recover in the polls. You said so yourself—a newcomer wouldn't be good for the state.”

He shook his head. “You reminded me, Kat, of how little power I really have. I've been at this game so long, I've forgotten why I got into politics in the first place. Losing the seat is not as scary as I thought it would be.” He took her mother's hand. “Maybe it's a blessing in disguise. All my life, I've been so focused on following and then exceeding my father's footsteps, I didn't stop to consider what was truly important to me.” He looked pointedly at Emilia.

“You're willing to give up your career for my mother.”

“She was the love of my life first, before she was your mother.” Kat searched his eyes but all she saw was the clear truth. He wasn't going to betray her mother.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “You'll make a great congresswoman, Kat. You remind me of myself when I first ran. I'm proud of you.”

She watched them leave then threw out the syringe and emptied the rest of the emergency medications she kept in the box. She'd given her mother away, and with her, every excuse she had.