her husband, stiff and uncertain at first, began to warm to the ovation, beginning to grin and to wave back at the crowd as if the applause were intended solely for him—and indeed it seemed as if it were. Peter held out his hand to Amanda and she realized to her horror that she was expected to join him. Dazed, she stood up and forced a s mil e as the cheers washed over them.
She looked up at Peter in profile, an arm’s length from him but feeling a million miles away. To Amanda, he had never looked more handsome or self-confident. Looking around at the faces in the warmly applauding crowd, she knew in one awful instant that her honest, decent husband had never been more fulfilled in his life.
He looked like a politician.
Amanda wanted to cry.
Chapter 5
Amanda awoke early from a brief and troubled sleep. She looked over at Peter sleeping peacefully, his tranquil face 'illuminated by the Sight of their digital clock on the nightstand.
The ride back from Omaha had been a nightmare. Her mind returned to the conversation they had in the car. Peter had started out incredibly happy, intoxicated by the ovation and all the attention, seemingly unaware of her concerns. Halfway back to Milford she found that she could contain her anger no longer.
“You knew,” she said evenly.
“Not really. I’d been told there was a possibility. I didn’t want to raise false hopes.”
“You didn’t trust me. The rest of us are involved, you know.” Her anger bit into the tension between them. “What if we don’t want to move to Chicago—or Kansas City—or wherever it would be? What if we don’t like the idea of collaborating with the Soviets?”
Peter didn’t answer. She watched him stiffen, seething silently for a moment, before he could trust himself to answer. Finally he said, “You think I’m a collaborator.”
“I—no—I don’t know. I know I don’t want you to be. It just gets confusing. Trying to hold on to values you believe in—not being sure what the difference is. Am I collaborating just because I go along with things and try to survive?”
“There’s no choice,” he said coldly.
“Isn’t there? Maybe there are little things. You know the other morning, a child was in the yard—foraging, like an animal. Cold and hungry. Her mother grabbed her away when I offered her something; she grabbed her away because of who I was. She realized I was the wife of the county administrator, and that made me a threat—an enemy.”
Peter sighed. “That’s nonsense. They just know there’s a regulation against loitering in town.” He looked at Amanda. “They get government relief.” Amanda wasn’t listening. “Do you know, I have never even been out there. I don’t even know what it’s like out there.”
“There’s a limit to what anyone can do. They’re a mixture of people—some college professors, some criminals. It’s hard to deal with them as a group. That’s why there’s the blanket policy of as little fraternization as possible. They have their own council to solve their own problems internally.”
“You make it sound so neat, so logical.”
“It is logical,” he said, watching Amanda’s face tighten. “That doesn’t mean it’s ideal.” He reached out to her, resting his right hand on her knee. “Am, I think there are a lot of things I can do something about as governor-general. There’s no place to hide. Things change; whether you want them to or not. All you can do is to see if you can influence the change, make it something better. I think I have a better chance of doing that if I’m in a position of power.” He smiled, a kind of sad, small smile. “Somebody has to be governor-general. Maybe if that somebody is me, I can figure out a way to keep our little town pretty.”
Now, lying in bed next to the man she had built a life with, she thought of Devin and what would have been if, so many years ago, she had felt and known all that was pressing on her heart tonight.
She’d
She looked up at Peter in profile, an arm’s length from him but feeling a million miles away. To Amanda, he had never looked more handsome or self-confident. Looking around at the faces in the warmly applauding crowd, she knew in one awful instant that her honest, decent husband had never been more fulfilled in his life.
He looked like a politician.
Amanda wanted to cry.
Chapter 5
Amanda awoke early from a brief and troubled sleep. She looked over at Peter sleeping peacefully, his tranquil face 'illuminated by the Sight of their digital clock on the nightstand.
The ride back from Omaha had been a nightmare. Her mind returned to the conversation they had in the car. Peter had started out incredibly happy, intoxicated by the ovation and all the attention, seemingly unaware of her concerns. Halfway back to Milford she found that she could contain her anger no longer.
“You knew,” she said evenly.
“Not really. I’d been told there was a possibility. I didn’t want to raise false hopes.”
“You didn’t trust me. The rest of us are involved, you know.” Her anger bit into the tension between them. “What if we don’t want to move to Chicago—or Kansas City—or wherever it would be? What if we don’t like the idea of collaborating with the Soviets?”
Peter didn’t answer. She watched him stiffen, seething silently for a moment, before he could trust himself to answer. Finally he said, “You think I’m a collaborator.”
“I—no—I don’t know. I know I don’t want you to be. It just gets confusing. Trying to hold on to values you believe in—not being sure what the difference is. Am I collaborating just because I go along with things and try to survive?”
“There’s no choice,” he said coldly.
“Isn’t there? Maybe there are little things. You know the other morning, a child was in the yard—foraging, like an animal. Cold and hungry. Her mother grabbed her away when I offered her something; she grabbed her away because of who I was. She realized I was the wife of the county administrator, and that made me a threat—an enemy.”
Peter sighed. “That’s nonsense. They just know there’s a regulation against loitering in town.” He looked at Amanda. “They get government relief.” Amanda wasn’t listening. “Do you know, I have never even been out there. I don’t even know what it’s like out there.”
“There’s a limit to what anyone can do. They’re a mixture of people—some college professors, some criminals. It’s hard to deal with them as a group. That’s why there’s the blanket policy of as little fraternization as possible. They have their own council to solve their own problems internally.”
“You make it sound so neat, so logical.”
“It is logical,” he said, watching Amanda’s face tighten. “That doesn’t mean it’s ideal.” He reached out to her, resting his right hand on her knee. “Am, I think there are a lot of things I can do something about as governor-general. There’s no place to hide. Things change; whether you want them to or not. All you can do is to see if you can influence the change, make it something better. I think I have a better chance of doing that if I’m in a position of power.” He smiled, a kind of sad, small smile. “Somebody has to be governor-general. Maybe if that somebody is me, I can figure out a way to keep our little town pretty.”
Now, lying in bed next to the man she had built a life with, she thought of Devin and what would have been if, so many years ago, she had felt and known all that was pressing on her heart tonight.
She’d
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