Jameson
My gorgeous girl was resting comfortably, but I was a mess. My personal inner turmoil was a fierce storm raging inside me. After I made sure that Georgie was sleeping, I retreated to my private study with my favorite bottle of scotch. But even that couldn’t stop the battle.
I picked up my desk phone and called the one person who could provide the guidance I would need at this moment. “We just got back. Can you come to the private residence? There’s something I need to discuss with you.”
Twenty minutes later, Elias Garcia walked into my office.
“How’s Georgie doing?”
“She’s fine. She fell asleep as soon as we got home.”
“I’m sorry for the loss, Jameson.”
“Thank you.”
“How did you feel about Georgie being pregnant?”
I hadn’t given much thought to Georgie being pregnant once she started to miscarry. I was more concerned with losing her than anything. While I was in the Middle East, I couldn’t stop thinking about becoming a father. How unexpected it was and how, despite it being something joyous, it didn’t feel right.
“It wasn’t the right time. We’re not ready for that. We have some serious growing to do. That’s what I’ve learned since becoming president. I can lead this country; I can command an army. But I’m a shitty fiancé. I’ve neglected what was important to me for so long.”
“Well, but you obviously didn’t neglect her that much if she was pregnant.” One of his eyebrows shot up, and I laughed at his innuendo.
“That was just selfishness on my part. And I guess all this kind of leads up to what I wanted to discuss with you.”
“And what’s that?”
“I don’t think I’m going to run for a second term.”
If Elias was shocked, then he didn’t show it. Instead, he looked almost relieved.
“Elias? Why aren’t you jumping up and down, yelling and telling me that I’m crazy?”
“Maybe because I don’t want to run against you a second time.”
Now it was my turn to be shocked. I sat back in my leather desk chair, stunned. “Well, fuck. I think you just trumped my news.”
“I’ve been considering running as an Independent in the next election. There is a part of me that deeply wants to be president, and I don’t think I can ignore it. I’ll be the first to admit that I caved to the Republicans when I hastily entered the race after Huntley. I want to run on my own terms now, spread my own message to America.”
“I think that America deserves to have a president like you, Elias. If you win,” I said with a smirk.
“Do you think DeWayne will take up your mantle and run for the Democrats?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t told him yet.”
“So you really don’t want a second term, James? One term was enough?”
I held my hands out in front of me, palms facing up. “Look at what it’s almost cost me. We’ve been at this for almost a year, and people still won’t leave Georgie alone.”
Elias must have sensed that I was talking about Maxwell Edison. “And what’s happening with Edison? It’s not every day that the president beats the shit out of the Secretary of Education.”
“Former Secretary of Education. And it’s being handled. He’s keeping his mouth shut because he knows that if he opens it, the entire world will know that he is a spineless, treasonous piece of shit.”
“Did he know that she was pregnant?”
I closed my eyes and inhaled sharply. “Yes, he did. He used that information to manipulate her.”
“And what about getting married? Are you finally going to marry that girl after all this?”
I chuckled. “I tried, Elias. But she said no. I was going to have the ceremony performed right there in the hospital, but my stubborn little darling said no.”
“She deserves something better, don’t you think? The white dress and the big wedding? Maybe out there in the rose garden?”
I nodded. “She deserves that, and so much more.”
Elias stood and extended his hand over the desk. I took it and locked hands before he left my office. And then I sat down and ran my hand over the faint carving on the desk. T.E.W. Thaddeus Edward Washington. Right below his initials were hers. G.M.W. Georgina Marie Washington. She idolized her father. Since coming to the White House, Georgie opened up more about her parents, and I felt like some of the sadness she’d carried since their death faded away.
I reached inside and took out the small Swiss Army knife that I’d carried with me since my thirteenth birthday. It was a gift from one of my dad’s Army buddies, an old grizzly vet who had a heart of gold. I dug the tip into the wood, next to her initials, and carved mine. J.P.M. Jameson Patrick Martin. I ran my thumb over the carving, brushing aside the fine wood shavings, and smiled.
“I’m going to marry your daughter,” I said aloud.
Then I returned to our bedroom and slid into bed beside her. I could be Jameson Martin, the man, for a few more hours, until the world demanded my attention once more.
* * *
The White House Press Briefing room was in an actual tizzy. The reporters were all talking in hushed tones, whispering amongst each other, speculating about what was going to be announced. I watched all this from the sidelines; I wanted to keep them waiting.
“Sir,” Bart said, coming up behind me. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Oh yes,” I said. I was going to be like Sherman and scorch the fucking Earth.
I reached out for the notes that Bart had prepared for me. Since returning from Finland, I had one goal in mind: clean house. Straightening my tie, I took one last glance at the paper he just handed to me and then walked out to the podium.
The entire room went silent.
“Good morning,” I said firmly, my voice loud and clear. I gripped the edges of the podium and looked out at all their faces. Shock and awe had an entirely new meaning. “I will be conducting today’s briefing as I felt that the changes to my administration were important enough to personally address. First, Secretary Edison has been asked to resign from his position, effective immediately. Second, Deputy Press Secretary Lauren Thompson has also been asked to resign. These two events are being handled separately and are not related. Third, after a thorough investigation conducted by Director of the NSA, Jack McGowan, it has been determined that Russian oil tycoon Valery Kuznetsov has used his vast fortune to gain access to my administration. That investigation is still ongoing to determine the motives of Mr. Kuznetsov. As a result of this unprecedented interference in American politics and American government, several members of my administration have been relieved of their duties.”
I paused for a moment, to let all that seep in, to let them all fully comprehend what I just said. I looked up from my notes to see a very stunned group of reporters. They weren’t expecting this, or me.
“I realize this is quite shocking and please be aware, that because this investigation is ongoing, it is entirely possible that more members of my administration will also be terminated. I take responsibility for this breech in our country’s government. My focus on getting here and starting the work that needed to be done was skewed. I made the American people a promise, and I wanted to keep it so badly that I didn’t properly vet these individuals. I opened the door to Russia’s interference, and now I’m closing it.”
My notes indicated I was supposed to address Georgie’s recent hospitalization. Even before we returned to Washington, there was speculation about why Georgie was admitted to a hospital in Finland. I hated all the made-up garbage that was being said about her, but even worse was having to publicize something that was very, very private.
“Finally, I want to address the rumors surrounding the first lady. Yes, she was admitted to a hospital in Finland during her recent visit. Regretfully, the first lady suffered a miscarriage. This is a very private matter; however, she wanted me to relay that information to you all because she knows that many women share this same experience. She is currently resting and will continue doing so over the next few days before resuming her normal duties. We both ask that you respect our privacy, and we will not address any questions regarding this matter.”
I cleared my throat, and the emotions bottled up threatened to spill out. I shuffled the papers nervously and then stepped back a fraction of an inch to compose myself. “I will now turn the rest of this briefing over to the very capable hands of Bart Davidson. He will do his best to answer the questions that I’m sure you all have, but please note, he either cannot or will not answer all your questions. Thank you.”
The sound of everyone shouting at once was deafening. I kept my head down as I walked from the front of the room. I passed Bart and we shook hands, but then I was gone. I returned quickly to my private study next to the Oval Office and calmed my nerves with a finger or two of scotch. Sometimes being president was the worst fucking job in the world.