waiting. A uniformed driver stood holding it. Ronnie walked over to it and slid inside, leaning her head tiredly back against the soft leather and closing her eyes as the others joined her.
“Are you all right, Ronnie?” Thea asked softly. Her press secretary had been a source of support over the past weeks, and Ronnie was grateful to her for it. As a woman, and a friend, she had sensed some of Ronnie’s discontent, though Ronnie had been careful to show the same stoic face to her staff that she showed to the public. One never knew who might talk to the press, and under what circumstances.
“I’m just tired.” Ronnie didn’t bother to open her eyes. If she did, she would have to converse with the lot of them, and she didn’t feel up to it. She knew it was irrational, but she felt almost more hostile toward Quinlan than she did toward Lewis. It was Quinlan who had come up with the “spin,” after all. Quinlan who had sold the lie she was living to the world, and persuaded her to go along with it. Quinlan who had trotted out polls telling her how to dress,what issues to tackle in her speeches, even what pet name the embattled spouses should call each other in public.
(Honey was preferred by voters by a substantial margin over darling —too elitist— sweetheart —too loverly—and dear —too old-fashioned; so, thanks to Quinlan, honey was what Lewis now called her every chance he got. For her part Ronnie had managed maybe two honeys in two weeks. The endearment stuck in her throat every time she tried to utter it; one of these days she was afraid she might choke on it. If she did, that would be Quinlan’s fault too.)
Although Ronnie’s eyes were closed and she was doing her best to pretend she was alone in the car, Quinlan spoke to her: “Tomorrow, at that university-women thing, when you’re taking questions from the floor, if you’re asked about Doreen Cooper …”
Doreen Cooper was the name of the prostitute Lewis had visited about once a week for the last year whenever he was in Washington. The one who had tape-recorded her conversations with him, had taken pictures of them together, and told the world all about Lewis’s preferences in bed.
“… just say that you view what happened as a test of your marriage, which is now stronger than ever.”
“I know what to say.” Ronnie’s eyes snapped open, and she fixed an unsmiling gaze on Quinlan, who was sitting directly across from her.
He smiled soothingly at her. Handling her was his job, and he was working hard at it. So far it had been rough going, she knew.
“I know you do,” he said. “You’re doing just great. But this question-and-answer thing tomorrow is the first time you’ve spoken in public in such an open forum since the story broke. Just keep repeating the same answer in different ways: ‘It was a real test, but it is behind us.’ ‘Marriage is a challenge at best, and this incident has tested ours. But as a couple we’re stronger than ever.’ ‘The problem is now behind us.’ The key words are test, challenge , and behind us. ”
“Do you want me to write them on my palm in ink so I won’t forget?” Her sarcasm was punctuated by glittering eyes that fixed him through the gloom. She was getting tired of being fed words over and over again like an idiot parrot.
“Just don’t let them throw you.” He was imperturbable, just as he had been all along. No matter how angry some of his suggestions made her—and a few had made her plenty angry—he kept his cool. Just knowing that he was “handling” her made Ronnie see red.
“Oh, Tom, can’t you go over this with her tomorrow? She’s tired.” Thea intervened before Ronnie could reply. Thea and Tom were good friends now, having spent a great deal of time in each other’s company during the past weeks. No doubt they appreciated the crisis that had brought them together. What a cute how-we-met story it would make! See, there was this cheating senator and his
“Are you all right, Ronnie?” Thea asked softly. Her press secretary had been a source of support over the past weeks, and Ronnie was grateful to her for it. As a woman, and a friend, she had sensed some of Ronnie’s discontent, though Ronnie had been careful to show the same stoic face to her staff that she showed to the public. One never knew who might talk to the press, and under what circumstances.
“I’m just tired.” Ronnie didn’t bother to open her eyes. If she did, she would have to converse with the lot of them, and she didn’t feel up to it. She knew it was irrational, but she felt almost more hostile toward Quinlan than she did toward Lewis. It was Quinlan who had come up with the “spin,” after all. Quinlan who had sold the lie she was living to the world, and persuaded her to go along with it. Quinlan who had trotted out polls telling her how to dress,what issues to tackle in her speeches, even what pet name the embattled spouses should call each other in public.
(Honey was preferred by voters by a substantial margin over darling —too elitist— sweetheart —too loverly—and dear —too old-fashioned; so, thanks to Quinlan, honey was what Lewis now called her every chance he got. For her part Ronnie had managed maybe two honeys in two weeks. The endearment stuck in her throat every time she tried to utter it; one of these days she was afraid she might choke on it. If she did, that would be Quinlan’s fault too.)
Although Ronnie’s eyes were closed and she was doing her best to pretend she was alone in the car, Quinlan spoke to her: “Tomorrow, at that university-women thing, when you’re taking questions from the floor, if you’re asked about Doreen Cooper …”
Doreen Cooper was the name of the prostitute Lewis had visited about once a week for the last year whenever he was in Washington. The one who had tape-recorded her conversations with him, had taken pictures of them together, and told the world all about Lewis’s preferences in bed.
“… just say that you view what happened as a test of your marriage, which is now stronger than ever.”
“I know what to say.” Ronnie’s eyes snapped open, and she fixed an unsmiling gaze on Quinlan, who was sitting directly across from her.
He smiled soothingly at her. Handling her was his job, and he was working hard at it. So far it had been rough going, she knew.
“I know you do,” he said. “You’re doing just great. But this question-and-answer thing tomorrow is the first time you’ve spoken in public in such an open forum since the story broke. Just keep repeating the same answer in different ways: ‘It was a real test, but it is behind us.’ ‘Marriage is a challenge at best, and this incident has tested ours. But as a couple we’re stronger than ever.’ ‘The problem is now behind us.’ The key words are test, challenge , and behind us. ”
“Do you want me to write them on my palm in ink so I won’t forget?” Her sarcasm was punctuated by glittering eyes that fixed him through the gloom. She was getting tired of being fed words over and over again like an idiot parrot.
“Just don’t let them throw you.” He was imperturbable, just as he had been all along. No matter how angry some of his suggestions made her—and a few had made her plenty angry—he kept his cool. Just knowing that he was “handling” her made Ronnie see red.
“Oh, Tom, can’t you go over this with her tomorrow? She’s tired.” Thea intervened before Ronnie could reply. Thea and Tom were good friends now, having spent a great deal of time in each other’s company during the past weeks. No doubt they appreciated the crisis that had brought them together. What a cute how-we-met story it would make! See, there was this cheating senator and his
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