4 The Circle
"You're looking chipper this morning." Mrs. Snow took a seat at the breakfast table, wrapped snug in her bathrobe.
Chewing his cereal, Coriolanus smiled freely after swallowing his food. "Morning, dear. I had my best night's sleep in ages. It's been a while since I've slept this well."
"Lucky you. I tossed and turned all night. I had to take another pill before I even began to feel the slightest bit groggy."
Uninterested in his wife's prescription drug tales—which were always the same—he finished his coffee, feigning interest in her many complaints as was common. Eventually, he knew that she would run out of injustices—all of which the world had unjustly and personally spited against her. Prepared for his small part in the conversation, Coriolanus would say, "I'm sorry, dear." And finally, the morning ritual would end with Cynthia departing from the table to return to bed for several more hours of sleep.
...
Entering his senatorial office, the young senator greeted Vera with a large smile: a smile that had kept reappearing throughout the morning whenever his mind drifted. "Good morning, Vera. I hope that I'm not too late."
"Morning, Senator. You're early as usual." The secretary stood and began pouring Coriolanus a fresh cup of coffee.
Accepting the cup, the young senator took a long sniff. "Thank you. What's on our agenda today?"
"You have a new appointment that has just cropped up. It will be a lunch meeting."
"Oh. With whom?"
Vera returned to her desk to retrieve a printout of the day's agenda and presented the document to the young senator. "I've scheduled you a two hour lunch with the women from Family Planning so that you can give them a proper apology for your behavior yesterday."
Coriolanus smiled. "Vera, you are priceless. Should I get them a gift?"
"I've already taken care of it. It's being delivered this morning."
Sipping his coffee, Coriolanus glanced over his agenda. "Since I have time, I'll review the documents they left in my office. I feel a bit more…clear minded today and think that I'll be able to help them with their problem." He began stepping towards his office.
"Senator?"
Coriolanus stopped at his office door. "Yes, Vera?"
"Do you want me to schedule future therapy sessions?"
That particular smile returned to the young senator's face. "Um. Yes, please."
"At what frequency should I schedule them?"
"Once a month should do."
One of Vera's brows rose in contradiction. "I'll schedule biweekly just to be safe."
Knowing better to contend Vera's wisdom, the senator smiled and retreated to his desk.
...
Later that afternoon, Coriolanus heard a knock on his office doorframe as he prepared to leave for home. When he looked up, he found Vera with the presidential aide Ashur standing in reception behind her.
"Senator, you have an unscheduled guest. Would you like me to send him away?" With a raised brow, Vera gave the faintest of shrugs.
"No. Send him in."
Vera stepped aside and gestured in the aide.
Ashur entered the office and shook the young senator's hand. "Senator Snow, I hope your first few weeks have been fulfilling?"
"They have. Thank you." Snow took his seat. "How may I assist you today, Mr. Magnus?"
"The president sent me to express his personal gratitude for your vote on the security bill a couple weeks back. I know it wasn't a popular vote for you and others to make, but be reassured that it has made our country safer." Folding his hands in lap, Ashur gnawed his lip as he smiled. "The president also wants to congratulate you for being selected for both the National Security and The Budget/Finance committees."
Coriolanus straightened in his chair. "Finance too?"
"Oh yes. We are well of aware of your financial expertise. Very few truly understand the shell game of finance as well as you. Everyone we talked to during your vetting has reaffirmed this."
With an elevated chin, the senator smiled. "Accounting on a national scale cannot be black and white. It's impractical, and moreover, impossible to teach to the average citizen."
"The president feels assured in your abilities." Ashur rose to his feet. "And we know you'll be critical in keeping the budget finances pleasing to all. Congratulations again, Senator Snow."
Coriolanus stood and shook the aide's hand. "Thank you."
With an inconspicuous wink, Ashur excused himself from Snow's office. Passing through reception, the aide pointed at Vera and said something to the secretary that was inaudible to the senator, which in turn caused Vera to sneer and retort with a fingered gesture.
This caused Snow to smile since he felt certain he shared the same sentiments towards the aide.
With the workday ending, Vera donned her overcoat before entering the Senator's office, where she found him deep in thought. "Did Mr. Magnus have some good news?"
"Yes. I've apparently been selected for membership to the top two committees." His smile fading, Snow began staring at his desk.
"This is good news; isn't it?"
Snow lifted his head. "It is."
Taking a seat in the guest chair, Vera studied her employer. "You don't look happy."
"One of the nastier things about politics is that political accomplishments are never by merit. Nonetheless, I'm now part of the inner circle, and I know what they expect from me."
Confident in her employer's abilities, Vera stared at the senator with a faint smile. "Make the most of it. Now that you are on the inside, you can inject the merit you seek into your actions. You may have to play the game, but it does not mean that you cannot help people. Embrace the end result."
"Perhaps." With a deep breath, Coriolanus forced a smile as the other benefits of committee membership came to mind. "Less we forget the added revenue that comes from committee participation. You, Miss Vera, deserve a raise."
Vera smiled. "How much?"
"You decide."
"Aren't you the monies expert?"
"True, but you are my guardian angel and understand the delicacies of this office better than I ever will. I trust you."
"Thank you, Senator." Vera stood to leave. "Oh, I almost forgot. The store called; your special order has arrived."
A true smile came to Coriolanus as his face brightened. "Excellent. Can you do me a favor, Vera? Ask them to gift wrap it for me. I'll pick it up when I leave in an hour."
"I'd be happy to, Senator. What theme of paper should they use: birthday, anniversary, or other?"
"Plain is fine. It's just a spontaneous gift."
Vera smiled. "How wonderful. Spontaneity is a gift in itself. She's going to love it."
...
"What's that?" Mrs. Snow eyed the gift-wrapped package under her husband's arm as he closed the apartment door.
"Good to see you too, dear." Coriolanus began removing his overcoat. "It's for Livia."
"What is it?"
"You'll just have to wait and see." As soon as he picked up the package from the entry table, he spotted his daughter running at him at full speed.
"Daddy!"
He scooped her with one arm. "Hey, princess. How are you?"
"Good." Her little hands immediately found the wrapped gift. "What's this?"
"It's for you."
She gasped. "A present!"
"Yes. Should we sit on the couch and open it together?"
"Yes." Livia's body quivered with excitement, safe in her father's embrace.
Stepping over to the couch, Coriolanus sat with care onto the cushion with Livia coming to rest on his lap. He brushed her hair back behind her ear. "Sweetie, open it carefully."
Livia's little fingers began tearing free the paper. When enough of the paper was loosened, the wrapping fell free from the object to the couch, leaving a 6 by 9 inch rectangle object in her hand. "What is it, daddy?"
"A book."
Accustomed to her books being digital tablet versions, Livia looked at her father with confusion.
"Sweetie, this is how people use to read."
Cynthia frowned at the object. "How much did that old thing cost?"
"Not much. There are numerous physical copies still floating about in antique shops."
Detecting the faint musky smell coming from the book's cover, Mrs. Snow wrinkled her nose as she turned away. "What's wrong with the eBook version?"
What's wrong with you? Snow thought, biting his lip.
With a deep breath, the proud father began assisting his daughter with the book's orientation so she could see the illustrated smiling cat displayed on the cover. As Livia's eyes widen with curiosity, Coriolanus watched her tiny fingers trace out the feline's outline, causing his smile to return.
Livia lifted the book in the air as she focused on the title. "Alice's ad-ven..."
"Adventures in Wonderland." Coriolanus opened the book to a random page that displayed another colorful illustration. "This version has several drawings spread throughout."
Silent, Livia's tiny hands began tracing the outline of a rabbit.
Coriolanus kissed his daughter on the temple. "Can daddy read you a couple chapters a night?"
"Yes. Do the pictures ever move, daddy."
"Only in your mind, sweetie."
The child eyed her father.
"Trust me. You'll see."
"Okay, daddy. Can I go play now?"
"Sure." With a parting hug, Coriolanus helped his daughter slide off the couch and watched her run to her toys.
Left on his own, he began thumbing through the book, finding his anticipation for Livia's bedtime growing with every illustration discovered. When his stomach began to rumble, he turned around on the couch and found his wife staring at her computer tablet at the kitchen table. "Is there anything for dinner?"
Cynthia kept her focus on her tablet. "Livia and I had chicken parmesan."
"Are there any leftovers?"
"No."
Why did you bother telling me what I cannot eat? His stomach grumbled louder. Frowning with frustration, Coriolanus entered the kitchen to make himself a simple sandwich and a cup of tea. As he waited for the water to boil, he heard his wife laugh at something on her computer tablet; the sound of her laughter made him grimace. What's so funny? Is she communicating with someone? All I get is her complaints. Deciding not to inquire, he sighed as he poured the hot water into the cup.
Sitting in his usual chair in the corner of the living room, Coriolanus consumed his cold sandwich with hot tea, all the while joyfully watching his daughter play with her toys. After a year of hard campaigning, he vowed never to waste time by watching television when he could watch his daughter.
Finished with his dinner, he played a bit with Livia—in a game of her own creation, which he did not understand—before preparing her bath and dressing her in her pajamas. The time for bed had finally arrived, and the proud father escorted Livia to his wife's bed, where the child slept. Sitting himself in a bedside chair, the time for stories had arrived.
Without a delay, the father and his attentive daughter began their journey down the enchanted rabbit hole and together entered Wonderland.
...
Six evenings later, Coriolanus neared the story's end with a sleepy eyed Lavinia smiling up at him from the bed. He turned to the last page and read aloud: "Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood: and how she would gather about her other little children, and make THEIR eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago: and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days."
Curled up on her side, Livia stared at her father, yawning silently.
Closing the book, Coriolanus envisioned what his daughter would look like grown up, telling the same story to her children. Feeling selfish, he already felt that his daughter was growing up too fast. He leaned forward and brushed the tip of her nose. "Did you like the story?"
"I think so." The little girl smiled as she pulled her bed covers tight.
"You think so? Well, I may have read this story to you a little prematurely, but daddy could not wait. What did you like most?"
"The pretty drawings."
"They are indeed pretty."
"The paper stinks." Livia covered her nose with the cup of her hand.
"Stinks?" Coriolanus playfully eyed his daughter as he buried his face in the book. Lifting his face away from the yellowed paper, he scrunched his nose. "Well maybe it stinks a little. It is an old book after all."
"Is it older than you, daddy?"
"How old do you think I am?"
"Old." Livia giggled.
"Is 36 old?"
"Yes."
"What will I be when I'm 76?"
Gnawing her lip, she shrugged.
Your mother makes me feel old, Coriolanus thought to himself. Swallowing the growing resentment he held towards his wife, he focused on his daughter enthusiasm, which inevitably swept him up and salvaged his joy.
"Daddy, I want a sister. Like Alice."
Knowing that his wife had no interest in having more children, Coriolanus struggled to hold onto his smile. "We'll see, dear. Perhaps you will be blessed with a little brother."
"Are they funner than sisters?"
"I don't see why not." He set the book on the end of the bed. "Was there anyone in the story that you like in particular?"
Biting her thumb, Livia tried to remember the characters. "Not the Queen. She was mean."
Coriolanus folded his hands together. "Mean? She wasn't mean, she was being strict."
"She's mean."
"Leaders have to be strict and that sometimes appears mean."
"Queens should be nice. She was mean to everyone."
Nice? The young senator thought over his daughter's comments in relation to the story. Kings and Queens cannot afford to be nice, he thought to himself. Especially presidents.
Coriolanus knew well enough that small pockets of descent that existed in the districts, which were currently docile. Moreover, with the gossip floating around the CapitolBuilding, he had come to understand the undisclosed troubles of the country well before he joined the National Security council.
He leaned forward and combed his daughter's hair. "Sweetie, when someone accepts all that responsibility of being...King or Queen, that leader will be forced to make some unpleasant decisions that will keep the kingdom happy and safe."
"Like a daddy?"
"No, dear. It's much harder being a good daddy."
"You're good daddy."
Coriolanus brushed her nose. "That's only because I have such a wonderful daughter who makes my job so easy. Would you like another story?"
"Yes!"
Coriolanus reached for the computer tablet on the nearby nightstand, pulling up one of Livia's favorite stories. Holding the device so she could watch the small-animated illustrations, the proud father read the story aloud—almost from memory.
Once the story began, Livia's eyes became heavy quickly as familiar events had a habit of doing, and she soon drifted off to sleep.
In no hurry to leave, Coriolanus remained seated and stared at his daughter, envisioning her as Alice. Whatever mystical sleep land she had drifted off to, he hoped her respite from the real world to be grand and adventurous.
He returned the tablet to the nightstand and dimmed the lights. Entering the living room, he found his wife passed out on the couch, her two most frequented bottles of medicine on the coffee table beside her. Where does medicated sleep take you, he pondered.
Though he longed for bed and pleasant dreams for himself, Coriolanus began his nightly ritual of cleaning up the day's filth the best he could. He picked up the living room before progressing to cleaning the kitchen. He put away the many open food containers and scrubbed clean the sticky countertop. And as usual, he found the dishwasher overfilled with unwashed dishes. Forced to reorganize the racks before turning on the machine, the disenchanted husband washed the excess dirty dishes in the sink.
Returning to the living room, Coriolanus stopped and glared at his wife when he heard her grunting snores. The young senator began looking about the room and debated if they could hire a regular cleaning person with his recently increase in income. I couldn't afford daily cleaning. Perhaps twice weekly? he wondered. I might finally be able to walk around the apartment with my shoes off. He gnawed his lip. On the other hand, I could never pay anyone enough to clean up after her.
Remembering the day's events, a modest grin formed across his tensed lips, for he was now part of the inner political circle. If he remained diligent and focused, he could become someone prominent within the leadership. A very productive place to be, he thought. Unlike this particular circle of hell.
Observing the medicated blush on his wife's face, Coriolanus took a nearby seat and recalled earlier memories of their marriage. So much had changed in three years, but if he thought back far enough to more cherished memories, he found that he still wanted to kneel down and blow softly in her ear, to progressively kiss her cheeks and bring forth her smile, and to sweep her off to bed to a different kind of wonderland.
Sadly, he also knew that this kind of life, full of passion and spontaneity, only happened in fairy tales. Unlike Sleeping Beauty, Cynthia could not be waken after she had taken her pills—needless to say, stimulated. And if he could wake her, he knew that only certain rejection awaited him.
Weighted down by truth, Coriolanus retired to the guest room to his cold, hard bed where his dreams mirrored reality, taking him to a more realistic land of dreariness and restless sleep.
