Chapter 7: Extra, Extra!
"Who's going to tell her?"
"Does it matter? She's going to find out anyway."
"Yeah, it's not like it's hard to miss the vultures waiting outside."
"Marissa."
"What? It's true! The body count outside the house has been growing all morning."
"What's on her schedule for today, Annie?"
"Just the luncheon and a party at the Florrick residence in Highland Park."
Eli groaned, "We'll take the luncheon but I don't think she's going to be up for Highland Park."
Annie nodded, "I'll prepare something then, just in case. Mrs. Florrick was looking forward to her coming."
"Of course she was," Eli nodded, "When those two get together…did she happen to mention margaritas?"
Annie nodded with a grin, "The Senator promised to bring a bottle."
"With the worm," Eli shook his head. "Women."
Marissa raised an eyebrow at the mention of drinks. She knew the Senator was friends with the Florricks but she had no idea she was drinking buddies with the wife. She smothered a laugh, remembering the prim and proper though always stylish Alicia Florrick and trying to imagine her getting together with Diane, both getting hammered on tequila. It had to be hilarious.
Eli shook his head, "Is she up yet?"
Annie checked her watch, "If she isn't, she will be."
"Someone will have to tell her," Eli shook his head, "We knew something like this could happen."
"Yes, Eli, a minor blog but this is…" Annie swiped her finger across the screen of her tablet, "The Tribune. Pretty soon, the others are going to pick up on it now that it's out—the New York Times, the Post…even Snark will be taking a page for it too, most likely."
"You think I don't know that, Annie?" the older man snapped, only to catch the look on the younger woman's face, clearly not amused. He'd long ago found out the Senior Aide was simply not just another lackey. But instead of apologizing, he inclined his head in her direction in the briefest sign of remorse.
"What are you going to do now?" Annie asked after a moment—she was small, sure but she'd more than proven herself to Eli Gold.
"It's entered the news cycle," Eli gritted his teeth, "You can call Amelia and the rest of those fucking useless bunch of idiots the deals are off. Every single one of them."
"But Eli—"
"That may be Montrose's name under the headline, but you can bet your ass Lange's prints are all over the damned page," the political strategist seethed. "Cut it. All of it. And if they want to bitch about it, tell them to take it up with me."
He snatched the tablet off the table, ignoring the breakfast the housekeeper had laid out and headed towards the stairs, "I'll talk to her. You people try to figure out some way where I don't have to go to jail after slaughtering a bunch of reporters!"
Annie and Marissa watched as Eli stomped up the stairs, leaving the two women with the rest of the staff that managed to come in before the front of the home was bombarded by reporters. They'd gone to the Lockhart home first and that had given the team a head start to gathering without being accosted by the hounds. Still, it had been a close call and no matter how easily they managed to get in, getting out was going to take work.
That, and no matter what they might say, nothing could take back what had already been done.
Because as of that very morning, the country was well and truly aware of the man photographed with Senator Diane Lockhart from Illinois and they had his name, his history and the story of his life.
And it was splashed all over the news for the world to see.
It was as if Pandora's Box had been opened and there was no chance of ever putting it all back in again.
And Diane Lockhart's morning hadn't even quite started yet.
-o0o-
Throughout the city, those concerned found themselves starting their days in a similar fashion.
For Will Gardner, with no court to prep for and a quiet day at the office to anticipate, decided to take a more leisurely approach to his morning. He didn't quite have a hangover and he was in a good mood after a nice night in. He was still quite pleased at having his old friend drop by—it had been too long, after all.
So he decided to take his time to actually eat breakfast—Froot Loops, milk and coffee—and reading the morning's paper.
He had been expecting to see some interesting headlines, but the last thing he had been counting on spotting was the name of his aforementioned old friend splashed across the page—with a photo.
She had mentioned it the night before but it didn't help to see it for himself. He was so sure it would blow over but it seemed Diane's cynicism had been right for once. There in bold black letters, a captioned photo and the man's name, the whole story had been laid out.
And it did not help that Will knew who the man was although from the photo alone he wouldn't have been so quick to guess it was him. He sank in his seat, cereal forgotten, as he took in the story. It was all there—things he hadn't even been aware of regarding the laconic ballistics expert whose services he had taken up a few times in the past.
Diane hadn't even mentioned his name but now, here it was, in black and white.
Will continued to read, unable to help himself, shaking his head.
And all he could say was, "Damn."
He then wondered if perhaps he should call his friend and see if anything could be done.
Even though he could guess the answer for himself already.
On the other side of town, in a quiet suburban neighborhood, Detective Tony De Luca was enjoying another of his wife's scrumptious breakfasts. It was heavy and fattening, surely adding another mile or two to his usual route, but well worth it. Oh, he was a lucky man.
Ethel passed by her husband, patting his cheek affectionately before heading towards the fridge as he read his paper. She had just reached for the milk when her husband's booming voice startled her, effectively dodging the glass pitcher from her fingers as she jumped at the sudden intrusion.
"Antonio!" came her sharp reprimand, turning away from the mess to see her husband slam his fist onto the table, his plate rattling and his eyes bulging. "What is it?"
"Damned reporters!" he growled, tossing the paper aside before stalking out of the room, breakfast forgotten and his rage seemingly leaving a hot trail in his wake. "Come on, Ethel!"
His wife, all too used to his raging at the news, picked up the paper daintily after stepping over the mess just to see what had set off her usually calm bear of a husband. It didn't take her long to see what had angered him so and the woman could barely let out a quiet, "Oh, no," before setting the paper down and heading for the cupboard where the brooms were kept.
She would clean up quickly and head straight for the McVeighs—she could only imagine what father and daughter were going through if they were already aware of what had happened.
In no time at all, husband and wife were pulling out of their driveway, both cars taking different routes—the detective making his way to work while his wife headed for their friend's home. They each had things to do with both set of minds inclined to their own goals already.
And both knew it was going to be a long morning.
"Hey dad! I'm leaving!"
Kurt McVeigh looked up, startled for a moment before dropping the paper and running for his daughter. She was already making her way to the front door and he barely reached her as she began to turn the knob.
"Mads!"
"What?" the girl stopped, noting the tone of alarm in her father's voice and immediately halting. Much as she enjoyed teasing him, she knew when not to and whenever a certain tone came to his voice, instinct told her enough not to push anything.
"You're not going to school today," Kurt told her, taking her bag off her back and depositing it onto the floor by the front door. "Called your school already."
"What? But dad," Madison couldn't help the whine in her voice. "Mandy and I have a lot to talk about and I'm so behind, I don't think I'll still be alive by the time I get through the schoolwork they have waiting for me."
"Sorry, Mads, but please, just listen?"
"But dad," Madison began then stopped, noting the look on her father's face. He wasn't trying to be mean to her or even angry. In fact, he almost looked weird, standing in front of her like that. He was dressed for work already but he didn't seem inclined on leaving either. "Dad, what's going on?"
"It's just…" Kurt stopped, shaking his head before directing his daughter towards the living room. He sat her down before kneeling in front of her, placing a hand on her knee and squeezed, "It's not a good time to go to school right now, okay? I've spoken with the school and they'll be sending your things over. Right now, we're staying home, okay?"
"What's going on?" Madison's eyes widened in alarm, "Did something happen in school? Is anybody hurt? Oh, god, was it a shooting?"
"What?" Kurt's eyebrows shot up, reaching up to place a hand on her cheek, "No, no—no, baby. Nothing like that. Everyone's fine. It's us, Mads. Something's going on and right now, the best place for you is here."
Madison stared at her father, biting the inside of her cheek before realization dawned upon her, "Is it something with Diane? Has something happened…? Is she okay?"
"She is—uh, I don't know, maybe," Kurt shook his head, "But there are things on the paper right now that—"
"The paper?" Madison shot up, heading towards the kitchen where she'd last spotted her father. She ignored his call as she swiped it off the counter, easily finding the page he had just been reading.
Spreading the page in front of her, her eyes widened as she took in the photo of her father with the Senator, her intelligent light gray eyes quickly scanning the article. She'd always been a fast reader and she took full advantage of that.
It seemed they didn't miss a thing.
Her mother's death, Madison's birth—though her name hadn't been mentioned—her father's military career, his divorce, his work and a few other choice information. Even his accident from years ago, the one that had left him in a coma, was there and that information alone made the young girl's heart tighten. God, they knew everything and hadn't held anything back.
Madison had been spared, her name never appeared, but her father's life was splashed across the page like someone had simply spilled a bucket of paint carelessly. She didn't care about what they knew about her, she just hated that they were trampling on their lives like this.
It was awful and a part of Madison felt her anger boiling at the intrusion on her father's life. How could they? How dare they? So they met the Senator, so what? That shouldn't have been reason to just throw everything out in the open like that. It wasn't fair and Madison knew just what this was costing her father.
He didn't like talking about the past, not her mother, not his life in the military and certainly not his accident. He was a private man and there were just some things that were too painful to discuss, let alone share with the world. She knew it had to be hurting him now.
She dropped the paper, turning around to face her father and saw him standing in the middle of the living room. His head was bent and his hands were shoved into his pockets. He was avoiding looking at her and it made her all the more angry at whoever was responsible for this.
"Dad?" he looked up, but she could see the reluctance in his eyes.
He seemed like he was at such a loss, Madison could only feel her resolve break. It only propelled her to go straight to him and she moved through the room and threw herself in her father's arms, hugging him tightly. She wished there was some way this could be stopped but she knew there was little chance it could be made possible. She bit the inside of her cheek and squeezed her father even tighter, hoping he knew he didn't have to worry about her.
She more worried about him, what this could do to him.
And for the first time, Madison McVeigh was almost sorry she'd met Diane Lockhart in the first place.
-o0o-
"Well?"
Diane handed the tablet back to Eli, running a hand through her hair before looking away. The windows of her bedroom were closed but she was sure she could hear the rumblings going on outside. It could be just her imagination though or maybe something she'd conjured from memory.
"How long has it been up?" she asked, still avoiding his scrutinizing gaze.
"Since this morning," he said quietly, "We put it to bed, Diane. We don't know who was behind this one and we certainly didn't expect it. We had agreements, confirmations."
Diane blinked, "Someone reneged on your deal?"
"Or decided it was too good to pass up," Eli muttered. "We spoke with the legitimate parties…this just blindsided us."
"I'm guessing Clyde Montrose was one of the few who you hadn't spoken to?"
"Yes, but he's new game and our contact was Amelia Lange," he muttered.
"She used him to get it out," she guessed correctly, "And that's even a different photo from what the general pool had."
"Yes," Eli nodded, his jaw clenching. He didn't like defeat and as far as he was concerned, this was defeat and it stung deeply. He wouldn't tell her but he already had some kind of battle plan at the ready. Amelia Lange was not about to get away scot-free with pulling this kind of crap on him, not like this.
"They kept Madison out of it, at the very least," Diane said, nodding a little, "They gave you that."
"No," Eli shook his head, "I think it's more a matter of them giving you that. They aren't eager to alienate you."
Diane glanced at the tablet he was holding and she gave him an enigmatic smile, "After this, Eli? I think we're past alienating. I want their names, Eli, and I want them in a list. I won't be doing anything about it but keep the names for the future. We won't be using those channels any longer."
Eli nodded, "Of course."
"Also," she stopped, pursing her lips slightly, "Send Samantha Archer to the McVeigh's? Tell her to be discreet, tell her I need this taken care of and…"
Eli moved forward, "And?"
"Tell her to make sure he doesn't know I sent her?"
He nodded, "I'll make a call to the Chief. I know they have some dealings with Mr. McVeigh and the police department could use a little bit of Archer's touch."
A nod, "The transition team called? Yesterday?"
"Yes," he sighed, "And after this? I'm expecting another call."
She nodded, "I'll speak to them myself. It's likely we will be setting up something to address the press. My nomination has been rife with speculation and adding this matter? They will need answers."
"Does this mean you're ready to give your answer?"
"No," she shook her head, "But it does mean I will be forced to consider things faster than I'd originally intended. I was supposed to have until January."
He nodded, "Understandable. I'll let you know when they call then."
Diane nodded, "Thank you. Send Annie in, will you? We have some details to work out on that luncheon."
"You're still going?"
She looked at him then, "Yes. If anything good should ever come out of this, it might as well be this one. The center needs the press time, some exposure for their cause. With them hounding me more than ever, it's likely they will be getting just that today."
Eli smiled a little, "Making lemonade?"
The corners of her lips quirked upwards in a humorless grin, "Something like that."
Eli nodded, hiding the unease he was feeling at the mantle of utter calm the Senator was showing. This was not the Diane he was used to dealing with. She was usually more emotional, more vocal in private. He didn't like how this matter was making her seem almost frozen, like a statue he didn't want to dare disturb.
He began to leave the room, moving towards the door when her voice stopped him, calling out his name quietly, "Eli?"
"Yes, Senator?" he felt her demeanor merited his addressing of her title.
"Is all of it true?"
He didn't need to ask what she meant, "Yes."
"Did you know about it? About his wife?"
He nodded slowly, "Yes."
"Were you ever going to tell me?"
"I hadn't planned on it," he replied honestly, "It didn't seem important to mention…and it was his story to tell. I never imagined it would be revealed this way though."
She turned her face away from his view, "How did they find out, Eli?"
He shrugged almost imperceptibly, "How does anyone ever find out anything these days?"
Eli saw her head move from one side to the other, "Would you please send Annie in now?"
"Yes, of course, Senator," he nodded, heading towards the door. He glanced at the woman for a moment as she sat there quietly, clenching his fist at his side before shutting the door quietly behind him.
A part of Eli seethed with unbridled rage. He didn't usually dabble in the personal dealings of the Senator but he did not appreciate at the blatant lack of ethics and courtesy that was being put into play here. There had been nothing sinister in that meeting, nothing at all scandalous about her connection to the father and child, but somehow, what used to pass as a respectable paper now seemed to sport a behavior that was more fitting a ratty tabloid. Eli was not about to stand for that because despite what the media and easy access technology were now providing, there were still some lines left that shouldn't be crossed.
With that and everything else in mind, Eli left Diane alone to her thoughts as he mulled over his. He was ready to go with whatever he had in his arsenal. It was hard enough for Diane to deal with the holidays, to have this pile on her was just pushing it. Eli was beyond upset.
So he left her alone, leaving her to deal with the information she had been handed
And just maybe some regrets as well.
-o0o-
Black high heels clicked soundly against the floors of the Chicago Police Department that early morning.
Dressed in a sleek black coat and her eyes shielded by black Chanel sunglasses, Samantha Archer certainly made her presence known once she stepped onto the floor. She barely gave a nod towards the woman at the front desk, bypassing her as she walked with both attitude and a purpose.
For anyone looking, she looked appropriately powerful and someone to be reckoned with.
And had she been seen by someone who knew her well, say, a certain Senator who had all but summoned her presence in the nose-wrinkle worthy floors crawling with Chicago five-Os, she would know that Sam Archer was definitely not at her most pleasant that morning. A night of shooting margaritas and moving on to body shots was not the best ways to preempt meeting a new client.
Had it been anyone else, Sam wouldn't even have bothered picking up the phone and had, in fact, almost slammed it at the sound of Eli Gold's voice. He'd been smart though and immediately rattled out the Senator's name before Sam could toss the offending device out the window that morning. She had backed down like a good girl then, crawling out of bed naked and moving towards the bathroom—she already knew she wouldn't be going back to bed and she definitely knew this was no friendly chat.
After all, Diane would have called herself and her calls around the holidays didn't usually come until a few days before Christmas and Sam was used to that. It was a business call, plain and simple, and she'd had guessed properly it would have something to do with the whispers she'd been hearing along the grapevine since the day before.
She just didn't expect her morning's trek would be taking her to the Chicago Police Department, semi-hungover and definitely in the mood to let her claws out. And it was too bad because she was used to letting her claws out but she had been expressively been advised not to do. She had frowned at that—Sam was rarely ever asked to play nice. She was usually called in to do the exact opposite.
But it had been Diane Lockhart who had called her and Sam wouldn't think twice about following her request down to the letter.
That didn't mean she couldn't be curious though because much as she had done properly by Diane and stayed out of matters she hadn't been called to join in on, she had itched just as badly as the curious, curious press as to who the man in the photo had been. She'd seen in briefly before it was even out—one of the benefits of being former "sleep" buddies with a respected reporter—and hadn't been able to put a name to the profile of the man in question.
Good things come to those who wait, though, she had learned because now she was right in the middle of it and she was definitely going to be getting up close and personal with the man of the hour.
Taking a sharp turn into where she was more than sure led to the office she was looking for, Sam gave a smile that consisted mostly of baring her teeth at the woman at the desk before zipping past her and walking right into the Chicago Police Superintendent's office. She ignored the woman's squawking as she closed the door in her face, locking it behind her and genuinely smiled at the startled man.
It only took a moment before the older man recognized her. Of course he would—she'd been on his face a few times in the past already, "Miss Archer?"
"Hello, Super," Sam smiled winningly, "A little bird told me you know where I can find a certain Detective Tony De Luca."
"Sam, what are you doing here? And what do you want with my people now?"
"Don't pretend you didn't get the call too, Mike," her name slid easily from his lips. She was younger than him by a few good years but she never felt fear with the old school chauvinist Superintendent Michael O'Neill.
"Well, I didn't actually think they'd be able to get you," the older man smirked a little, his black and well-groomed moustache twitching, "I thought you were done with us, Sam. You said you'd never come back after the Riley case."
"I did," Sam nodded, striding into the room, "That was clusterfuck and I did everything for you people…then it turned out your people were the scum? That's bad business, Mike. I don't support terrorists."
"We're not going down that road again," Mike shook his head, eyes covered in shadows at the memory of those dark times. "So, you and the Senator, eh? What's the story there? Thought you were non-exclusive."
"I'm not but there are certain exceptions to the rule," she shrugged, "Not that it's any of your business. Now, where is that Detective and the ballistics expert? I'm sure Eli explained it all to you."
"You're spinning this one? It's kid stuff, Sam, definitely beneath you," Mike raised an eyebrow, sharp brown eyes that were still definitely belonging appropriately to a veteran cop and a local hero scrutinizing her and her motives, "And it's not as if it's a scandal. This stuff always blows over…unless there's more to this than Senator Lockhart is willing to share."
"Did you read the paper, Mike?" Sam asked, taking a seat in front of his desk, "Or do you at least know who Kurt McVeigh is?"
"A good man, an excellent forensic analyst," Mike shrugged. "We don't particularly speak often but we've spoken in the past. We do a lot of business with him—but I don't need the paper to know he's clean."
"He's a good man, a war hero, a single father who lost his first wife and a divorcee whose ex-wife won't say a single bad thing about him," Sam pointed out, her blue eyes contrasting with her deep brown hair pleasantly, "The story about his connection with the Senator is true but only the part where she helped them get to a hospital after a bumpy flight. She then spoke with him as normal people would in any situation and some chicken-shit paparazzi wannabe managed to get a shot."
"So it's not an affair."
"Nope," Sam shook her head, "They met the day of the flight."
"So? That seems pretty straight, what's the problem? Why'd they bring in a heavy hitter like you?"
"He's a good man," Sam shrugged, "The Senator would prefer you and I make sure this doesn't have more…adverse effects on him and an innocent little girl."
Mike thought for a moment, "We only do business with him, Sam. He's not an actual employee. Hell, we're not even supposed to have him down considering our budget and resources."
"So, why hire him?"
"Reasonable rates," he shrugged, "We have a business arrangement with him. His friendship with this precinct, particularly with Tony De Luca, has some very rewarding pull. But he also does work in the private sector. A free agent."
Sam looked at Mike for a moment before nodding, "Then this shouldn't be hard to fix. I come in, I'll shoo the pesky little children away and I'm finished. Viola."
He looked at her skeptically, "Why bring me into it?"
Sam smiled charmingly, "Well, your employee is De Luca…and Mr. McVeigh's very ties with this precinct is something to be lauded. How about you return the favor with the very reasonable forensic scientist?"
"What's this going to cost me?" Mike gave her a look.
The woman let out a feral little grin, "Not a damned thing, Mikey boy, not one damned thing."
-o0o-
"How you doing, darling?"
Madison looked up, smiling faintly at her Aunt Ethel as she stood by the door of her bedroom. She put her book aside before sitting up in bed, dressed in a pair of jeans and a shirt after putting her school clothes away. She had stuck around the main floor of the house as her father and Ethel skirted around the reason why Madison was missing school once more and why Ethel had come unannounced.
It had gotten to a point where the air had grown a little thick and Madison had to excuse herself. Her father and her aunt needed to speak anyway and she was sure they didn't want her around for it but had also been too polite to say so. So instead, she got back to her room and curled up in bed with a book.
She had wanted to speak to her friends, particularly Mandy, but she knew they were still in class. She had gotten a couple of texts though, most of them inquiring in typical pre-teen freak out fashion if it was really her dad in the paper being romantically linked to someone famous.
Madison had ignored those texts, frowning at them before putting her phone away. Mandy hadn't sent a text yet but she expected one soon. She liked Mandy best even though they hadn't been friends for too long. She enjoyed talking to her, they could go crazy but also talk seriously at the same time. Plus, she could trust Mandy in a way she couldn't her other friends. Mandy was just more mature than the rest of them.
"I'm good," she smiled at the beautiful woman, inviting her to sit on the bed, "Where's dad?"
"Oh, working," Ethel shrugged, "But I think he's going out for a little bit to meet your Uncle Tony. Some work thing came up so it's just you and me, honey."
"Sounds good," she grinned.
"Anything you wanna do? I can teach you how to cook that little dish you love so much," her aunt offered, running her hand over her bed to smooth out the wrinkles on the coverlet.
Madison nodded, "Perfect, but Aunt Ethy?"
"Yes, baby?" Ethel reached forward and tucked a lock of hair behind the girl's ear, more out of habit than anything else.
"Is…is my dad okay?" she asked hesitantly, "I mean…he's so quiet."
"He's just thinking, honey," Ethel winked, "Your dad's fine. He's just trying to figure out what to do about, well, you know the things in the paper."
She nodded, "I can't believe they knew all that."
"Believe it," Ethel nodded, "He's just worried about what this means for you, Mads. He worried about your privacy, about your safety. Just let him think and he'll be just fine."
"I'm worried about him anyway," Madison said quietly, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her folded legs, resting her chin on her knees. "They knew about mom. He doesn't like talking about her."
"Because he thinks it will make you sad and you know he doesn't want you to be sad," Ethel said honestly then nodded slowly, "And it makes him sad too. He loved your Mama very much, Madison."
"I know," she nodded, "It just sucks seeing him so quiet."
"What about you, Mads? How does it make you feel? The paper?"
The girl shrugged, "At first I was mad…that was a total invasion of privacy…but then I got sad because of dad. He didn't say anything and that was how I knew because it had to have been painful to see all that being shared with complete strangers everywhere…but right now? I'm just upset. It's not fair they're doing this…we just made a friend, that's all. I don't understand why that's such a big deal. This sucks."
Ethel, unsure what to say that would just make both of them even more upset, pulled the girl close to her, allowing her to lean her head on her chest and pressed a kiss at the top of her head. The girl did not hesitate to allow her to give her comfort and returned the hug, wrapping her skinny arms around the closest thing she'd ever had to a mother and held on tightly.
Looking up, Ethel managed to catch the briefest glimpse of someone moving away from the door. She couldn't do anything but look at the empty space sadly. Kurt was more worried about Madison than anything even though he too wasn't pleased about what was happening. They hadn't discussed anything but his daughter but Ethel had a feeling it wasn't just the loss of their privacy that was tugging at him.
Ethel would not presume to know how Kurt McVeigh's mind worked but she knew something had happened between him and the woman who was partly responsible for the whole matter. It wasn't physical, not like the way the papers had caught it on camera and made it out to look, but Ethel just knew there had to be something there. Kurt was not a man who allowed himself to get caught up with women too easily. Over the years, save for his ex-wife and as well as another ex-girlfriend, there hadn't been anyone else.
Losing his wife had been a terrible blow, especially losing her the way he did, but having Madison in his life had helped heal him. She put him back together and he moved on. He learned to live as a Dad and had latched on to that role with both hands.
Madison was the center of his world and Ethel had no doubt he would not let anything ruin that. She'd known the ex-wife and other ex-girlfriend too—two women so similar to each other but eventually coming up short in his books and it the fault did not lie entirely with them, of course.
Kurt McVeigh was not a hard man to love, Ethel knew, but he was a hard man to live with. He was taciturn, reserved and not at all often willing to share. If anything it was always Madison who knew how to reach him best. He was in no way a man who suffered from depression or anything of the sort, but he was just quiet. He was dedicated to his daughter and his job and Ethel knew it would take a special kind of woman to get him to open up and loosen up. And while those other two women had tried, they had ultimately failed.
It was hard to live in a house only made alive by a girl. Marriage took work and women needed more than a cursory attention. The two women didn't blame Kurt for it even though it had hurt during the tail ends of both relationships—which should explain why the ex-wife had refused to speak with the press—it was just the way he was, the way life had made him.
Around his daughter, he was a sight to behold though. He smiled more, he laughed more and he truly was a whole man. Alone, however, was another story—which was why Ethel believed that something had happened with Diane Lockhart. Because had she been any other woman, she was sure Kurt McVeigh would have gone back to the way he was before the whole matter had reached this point.
But he hadn't and sad as it made Ethel, he was clearly still harboring some interest in her, no matter how much he tried to hide it, no matter how wrong she might be for him. And no matter how briefly their paths had crossed.
Why else would he refuse to say her name? She was the main reason why he had ended up with his story splashed across the page in black and white and yet, he made no mention of the woman, her position or even indicated she had anything to do with it at all. It wasn't denial but he refused to acknowledge her and to Ethel, while that might mean a dismissal of sorts to other people, with Kurt, it meant something else, something deeper.
Ethel swallowed a sigh, holding on to the man's daughter and prayed both of them would make it through this without getting burned.
"Aunt Ethy?"
"Baby?"
"It's her fault, isn't it?" the girl asked in a small voice and she didn't have to ask who she was talking about.
"I don't know, honey," Ethel said honestly, "They took an interest on your dad because of her, but I don't think it's really her fault."
Madison pulled back, leaving her arms reluctantly and avoiding her aunt's eyes and looked out of her window, "Is it wrong to be mad?"
"No," Ethel replied, "Not at all, baby."
"I…" she stopped, biting her bottom lip, "I want to be mad at her."
"Oh, honey, don't," the older woman said, squeezing her hand gently, "You can't think like that. Sometimes, things are just beyond your control, sometimes things just happen. I'm sure she didn't mean for any of this to happen, sweetie."
"I know," Madison sighed, nodding slightly with a frown on her lovely face, "I want to be mad at her, but I can't. She was really cool, Aunt Ethy. She was great, I liked having her around. I loved her."
"And you were pretty darned good at making her love you too, precious," Ethel smiled, "She came back just to see you again, right?"
The girl turned to face her, smiling slightly, "Did dad talk about her?"
"Oh, no," Ethel shook her head, "Your dad's too busy thinking about you. You know how he can be."
Madison grinned, "I do. Oh, Aunt Ethy, this is a mess."
"That it is, darling, that it is," the woman said, nodding as she stood up, running a hand over the skirt of her dress, "But you know what they say, my dear girl?"
"What?" Madison looked up at her, her baby blue eyes lighting up.
"This too shall pass," Ethel said sagely and then promptly brightened up, "So why don't you get off your butt, child? Make things pass because sometimes it just takes too damned long to wait for whatever it may be to move it's be-hind and we'll do something fun in the meantime."
Her thick accent did its magic once more, perking the girl up and promptly getting her off her butt in bed. She laughed, following the older woman's lead as she swept out of the room grandly like some happy little dancing nymph and both of them headed back down the house.
And like it always did, Madison's laughter echoed throughout the home, removing any troubles and sadness that may have prevailed during the short moment of her silence.
Not too far down the hall, Kurt McVeigh stood just behind his opened bedroom door.
And then slowly, ever so slowly, he smiled.
-o0o-
Her morning had proceeded quite uneventfully.
Starting with breakfast she only consumed under the strict orders from the formidable Mrs. Wheedon, Diane Lockhart found herself simply going through the motions as Annie helped her prepare for her day. The luncheon to be held to benefit the Center for Battered Women and Children were holding high hopes with her appearance. Not only was she a hot commodity with her recent election, her current relationship with the administration certainly made her name pop more in the announcements for the event.
What more now with the headlines bearing her name once more, this time with the more titillating possibility that finally, there was a tangible link between her and a living, breathing member of the opposite sex.
It wasn't the first time she'd been put under speculation in her personal life. She was relatively quiet on that front and people were always interested if she would actually start dating. After all, more than enough time had gone since her husband's untimely passing and while for a moment it held the dogs at bay when people were still willing to respect the privacy of a widow, it had passed. Now, they were fully expecting the widow to have shed her shroud for grieving now and move on.
They may be ready, but Diane sure wasn't. In terms of dating in public, at least because she'd never done it—she and her husband were definitely private citizens back when they'd first met and married. Now, she was Diane Lockhart, the politician, the snappy dresser, the Ice Queen and people were beginning to take the turn from being simply curious to downright nosy.
What they didn't know though, as far as Diane was concerned, was that dating in her position, while she was still quite significant in people's minds, made the matter nearly impossible. And considering the fact that the man who'd been photographed with her less than twenty-four hours prior now had every relevant detail of his personal life splashed across the Tribune? Well, it certainly only solidified her belief that dating was simply not an available option for her at the moment.
Still lost in her thoughts, by the time she absently allowed Annie to leave her bedroom to get dressed, Diane managed to finally look at herself in the mirror. She flinched, not because of the way she looked—though she seemed pale—but because something else was scratching in the back of her mind that was making itself known on the surface.
Diane had been advised not to speak or have further relations with Kurt McVeigh. They were going to take care of the matter, it wouldn't be hard, that much they knew. And since they wanted nothing more than to put the whole thing behind them and simply move on forward, she couldn't risk being seen or associated with the man again, not when they were trying to make sure the story didn't get any further than it already had.
After all, the President's rumored possible new member for his Cabinet and once sought after possible running mate, could very well not afford to risk her current standing in the people's favor. And while they were quite pleased with the idea of Diane being linked to a man, she also knew the public could be very fickle. She could fall from grace just as easily as she could blink.
But even so, even if she entertained the idea of dating, Diane also knew that despite what she may want, she couldn't risk being seen specifically with Kurt McVeigh again. It was better that way—more for his and his daughter's sake because the public were as fickle as they were vicious. She would not put them through anything more than she'd done already, no matter how much she hadn't meant to.
She didn't even know them anyway, not truly and if it was better that way, then she could be adult enough to make sure nothing else came out of it. Diane was alright being a footnote in their lives, someone to mention in passing years along down the road. She herself was going through a transitional stage and if she wanted to leave the mark she had set out to leave when she'd begun all of this, then she couldn't afford to be blindsided by such matters.
Taking the outfit that had been laid out for her and managing another glance at her reflection, a voice in the back of her mind asked her quite simply how she was managing to convince herself of these thoughts, of her choices. Blinking at herself, she took a moment before deciding with a slight frown.
Not entirely well.
Shaking her head, she headed towards her bathroom, fully intending to change and start off her day. As it is, even though it was technically a time for rest, she was running behind schedule already. She had a luncheon to prepare for, a speech to give and a cause to make sure garnered enough attention to help charitable efforts thrive. That, and she had a hungry press pool to face who were most likely still quite eager to catch a glimpse of Illinois Senator Diane Lockhart.
She'd never been one to disappoint so Diane squared her shoulders and raised her chin up, both as a gesture of being resolute as well as one for defiance. She wouldn't disappoint but also wouldn't let them trample over her life like some uninvited and unwanted guest. If they wanted her, then they very well going to get her.
And nothing else.