12. Lightning Strikes Twice
Saturday, March 5, 2016

As Mac checked herself in the bathroom mirror for the hundredth time, the telephone rang. She froze momentarily then quickly moved to the nightstand and picked it up. "Yes?" she said with breathless anticipation, hoping and fearing this was the call she'd been anxiously awaiting.

"Madam President, they've arrived."

"Thank you." With a deep breath she placed the phone back in its cradle. She returned to her bathroom and inspected herself one last time. She was wearing faded designer jeans and a T-shirt hoping to look as un-presidential as possible. She put on a fresh coat of lip-gloss, and wryly told her reflection, "This is as good as it gets."

She quickly walked down the stairs to the ground floor, turned right through the Palm Room and out onto the West Colonnade. Instead of turning the corner and going directly to her office, she entered the West Wing through the northeast door and slowed her pace. Casually she greeted the agent manning the desk at the end of the hall and asked, "Have you seen Cooper?"

"Yes, ma'am. He's in the office area, I believe."

"Thank you."

XXXXXXXXXX

She walked down the hall to the office area that sits between the Oval Office and the Cabinet Room, where Cooper and her personal secretary worked. It was empty. But when she glanced into her office through the open doorway, she saw him standing to the side of her desk studying the painting The Avenue in the Rain, hands in his pockets. He was wearing tan chinos and a light blue long-sleeved golf shirt. She smiled. She'd always been crazy about him in blue. Silently she shut the door behind her.

Suddenly she felt ill prepared for the impact of the moment. Her composure fled. Her heart beat twice its normal rate, and she couldn't breathe. All she could do was stare. Nobody had ever physically or emotionally affected her like he did. In an instant everything she'd ever felt for him came rushing back, along with the recognition that she loved him. She always had, and likely always would. She was terrified.

Sensing that someone was watching him, Rod turned around and unexpectedly came face to face with Mackenzie. She was looking at him with the same intelligent, expressive dark eyes he fell in love with all those years ago. He was astounded. She wasn't supposed to be here. He had only allowed Cooper to show him around because she was away. He felt the air leave his lungs as if he'd been sucker punched. He couldn't speak. He couldn't look away.

Time seemed suspended as they gazed intently at one another. Finally they breathlessly spoke at the same time,

"Roderic..."

"Mackenzie..."

Before either could speak further Cooper entered the room from the opposite hallway. He was surprised to see his boss and to feel the palpable tension in the air. He looked at his Dad and found his eyes fixated on the President. He appeared both mournful and happy. He turned to his boss. She was looking at his father in the same way. Neither of them had any idea he was there. "Madam President," he interrupted, announcing his presence, "I thought you were at Camp David."

Hearing the familiar voice, Rod momentarily looked at Cooper before returning his attention back to her.

Mac, on the other hand, moved further into the room and, without taking her eyes off his father, answered sedately, "I came back early to get some work done."

Rod smiled briefly before panic hit. Unsure of what to do or say, he took a few steps towards her. "Sorry for the intrusion. I'll get out of your way. I'm sure you've got a lot to do." He glanced at Cooper. "Son, call me when you're finished here. I think I'll take a walk on The Mall."

"Okay," Cooper said as his father moved towards the other door.

Her heart fell as she watched him leave her office, back turned. He was walking away from her again. Did he truly feel nothing? No connection between them? She thought by the way he'd been looking at her that he, too, must be feeling at least a little of what she felt. Maybe she was fooling herself. Maybe he didn't care. Or maybe there was someone else. She took a deep breath. She had to know. They needed to talk. She just didn't expect it to be this hard.

However, she couldn't let him leave without a fight. She wouldn't make that mistake again. Regardless of how it all turned out, if she didn't stop him, she would again regret it the rest of her life; and she knew now that she'd much rather live with disappointment—or hurt—than with regret. She pursed her lips in resolve and clinched her fist to give her courage. She was about to speak when he turned around and again fixed his eyes to hers.

"You look wonderful," he said huskily. "I'd say being the leader of the free world agrees with you." As he turned away, he caught a hint of a blush in her cheeks and, as in the past, its affect on him was deep and powerful. Momentarily he reconsidered his decision to leave. But he couldn't stay. Not with the way she made him feel—the way she'd always made him feel.

As he opened the door he heard her distinctive voice say clearly, "Bring me men to match my mountains, Bring me men to match my plains..."

With a sharp intake of breath, he stopped and closed his eyes. She'd remembered his favorite poem. He felt that all too familiar ache tug at his soul. He shut the door and slowly turned to face her. Something in her countenance made him reconsider his earlier decision. He quietly but unequivocally replied, "Men with empires in their purpose, And new eras in their brains."

"Hey..." she said with a smile, recalling their old form of greeting.

"Hey..." he answered back with an awkward grin of his own.

Cooper, meanwhile, recognizing that something significant was happening, quietly slipped out the other door.

Neither his boss nor his father realized that he'd gone. In fact, they'd forgotten he'd ever been there.

"Don't go," she pleaded with him.

"Mackenzie," he said with a shake of his head, "I don't..."

"Please stay," she cut him off. "And if you want to take a walk, do it here–with me–instead. I'd join you out on The Mall but…"

"What about your work?" he stammered. "You must have a lot to do if you came back early."

"What work?" She moved to the outside door, which led to the Rose Garden and ultimately to the South Lawn. As she opened it, she said, "It's a beautiful spring day. So are you coming, Judge Calloway? Or do I have to issue an Executive Order?"

His heart skipped a beat when he saw the twinkle in her eyes and heard the gentle tease in her voice. She'd always had the power of a siren over him. And nearly twenty-two years, he realized, hadn't altered that simple truth. "Yes, Madam President," he responded with a smug look and a hint of a drawl he'd picked up from years of living in Georgia. "Only because it's what I want. You have no authority over me," he playfully reminded her as he joined her by the door. "Separation of powers, you know. And I–unlike you–have a lifetime appointment in my job."

"Yes, you do, Your Honor. You most certainly do," she acknowledged aloud–while only silently acknowledging the lifetime appointment he held in her heart.

XXXXXXXXXX

When they stepped outside, she turned to the agent standing post at the door, "Jeffrey, this is federal court of appeals judge, Rod Calloway. He's Cooper's father and an old friend."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied as he stuck out his hand. Though their coloring was different, the family connection between father and son was obvious. "Jeffrey Rivers. It's nice to meet you, sir."

"Thank you," Rod answered shaking his hand. "We missed you out on The Ellipse this morning. Thank you for being so kind to my son and including him in your games."

"No problem, sir. He's a good player and a great kid."

Rod nodded.

"We're going for a walk," Mac said. "Would you please ask everyone to give us a little space." She looked again at Rod. "We've got some catching up to do."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll take care of it."

"Thank you, Jeffrey." She began to walk down the path leading to the driveway, which encircles the upper portion of the South Lawn.

Rod followed her, amused at seeing her in "President Mode" for the first time in person. He remembered what Michael Allen had told him in private all those years ago: She's destined for greatness. She doesn't know it, but I do. Her father had been right—not that he had ever doubted the truth in the Admiral's assertion. He had tremendous respect for Kate and Michael Allen. It was a tragedy Michael had died before he could see her fulfill that destiny.

Ten feet down the path Mac stopped and turned around. Taking a few steps back towards her office, she said authoritatively, "Jeffrey, with the exception of the military duty officer, would you have somebody clear out the West Wing with instructions that nobody–including the Chief of Staff–is to work this weekend. In fact, short of an alien invasion or nuclear war I don't want to see anybody at their desks until Monday morning."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with an uncharacteristic smile.

She nodded and walked back down the little hill to where Rod was waiting for her. He was chuckling with a familiar smirk on his very handsome, still boyish face. "What?" she asked inquisitively as she moved to where he stood.

"Nothing," he told her putting his hands in his pockets. "I was thinking–enjoying really–how easily and naturally this whole thing is for you." She hardly looked like someone with the weight of the world on her shoulders. Rather she appeared not to have a care in the world; and she was more beautiful than ever.

"I practice in the mirror," she responded dryly.

"Nice try," he said lightly. Then his voice turned quietly sober. "You were born to this, Mackenzie."

"Thank you," she answered softly, meeting his gaze. He'd always been so gracious in his praise. It occurred to her that except for her mother occasionally, nobody but Rod had ever called her by her given name. And these days, she recognized wryly, nobody but her mom called her anything other than "Madam President" or "Ma'am." She missed being "Mac," almost as much as she missed being "Mackenzie." Hearing her name roll so easily off his tongue, made her feel like a woman. He'd always had that affect on her. And that, was what she missed most of all.