Chapter
53
PRESIDENT TOM CASSION SAT AT the breakfast table in his family’s private quarters in the White House. He’d already been given his daily briefing and was fortifying himself with an extra cup of coffee before truly beginning his day, which was mapped out to the minute.
He looked across the table at his wife, Eleanor, or Ellie, as he and her closest friends called her.
“I saw your schedule for the next couple of days,” he said, folding up a copy of the Washington Post and setting it next to his largely uneaten breakfast. “Pretty busy.”
She looked over her teacup at him. “Right. And I saw yours. Pretty empty. What a slacker.”
He smiled resignedly. “It’s not that bad.”
She glanced at all the food left on his plate. “You haven’t been eating lately, Tom.”
“Stomach’s been a little unsettled. Just under the weather.”
“Go see the doctor, then. You have your own private one.”
He nodded. “I will,” he said, vaguely staring off.
“When do you get back?” she said.
“Four stops. Seattle, San Francisco, Houston, and Miami. Air Force One wheels down tomorrow afternoon at two.”
“Sort of like the campaign.”
“Not nearly as busy. How many times did we travel to eight or ten cities in a single day?”
“Too many times,” she said dryly.
“And these days politicians never stop campaigning. With the changes in the laws any amount of money can be thrown into the ring. You have to make certain you get your share of it, because the other side certainly will take up any slack.”
She said, “I miss the days of printing our own campaign flyers and collecting checks in a coffee can at backyard barbecues.”
“Sometimes I do too.”
He ran his gaze over Eleanor as she went back to studying her schedule for the day. She was still young, forty-six, four years younger than he was. They had two kids, Claire and Tommy Junior. Claire was fifteen going on forty. She had adapted extremely well to the life they now had. She’d made many friends at school and was active and popular at Sidwell Friends, and a very good student. Tommy was still very much a little boy who had at first loved living in the White House but had quickly grown to hate it. Neither the president nor his wife really knew what to do about it, and their son’s unhappiness was weighing heavily on both of them.
Eleanor’s voice broke through these thoughts. “The kids have a week off from school soon. I was thinking about taking them out of town. Maybe Nantucket. The Donovans have offered the house again.”
He gaped at her. “Nantucket? At this time of year? It’ll be cold and rainy.”
“Actually, the average high is nearly seventy degrees and the average low is over fifty. And long-range weather forecasts say precipitation levels will be well below average, although the skies will probably be overcast. The Atlantic Ocean helps moderate the climate. It’ll be warmer there than in Boston.”
“As usual, I see you’ve done your homework, Ellie,” said the president grudgingly.
She smiled. “And the tourists are all gone. It will be private and we can regroup as a family. Toasty fires, curling up with a good book. Playing board games. Taking walks together on the beach. Just recharging. Getting to spend time with the kids.”
“You mean spending time with Tommy. Claire is doing just fine.”
“I mean as a family,” she said firmly. “And while I know your schedule is packed, it would be wonderful if you could come for at least a day.”
The president looked at her strangely. Their lives were all governed by phone-book-thick itineraries with travel mapped out well in advance.
“Is this on the schedule? I didn’t see it.”
“No, I just was thinking about doing it.”
“Well, I seriously doubt I’ll be able to come for even a day. My schedule is packed for the next two months. And besides, the voters don’t like presidents to just pop off to vacations. You’ll have to check with the Secret Service. They’ll need time to prepare. It might be too difficult on such short notice.”
“I’ve already got them working on it.”
“Okay, hope it works out. But I think you’re overreacting to Tommy’s issues. He just needs more time to settle in, that’s all.” He picked up his newspaper.
Eleanor sighed, started to say something, and then returned to her tea and schedule, looking over notes for a speech she was set to deliver after a tour of the White House she was giving to a group of senators’ spouses.
The president did not seem to notice his wife’s disappointment. His stomach was unsettled for one simple reason.