Chapter 14

"What do you think?"

"I think this is the biggest wedding I've ever been to," Aaron answered in a low tone. They were seated at the head table along with Mike Novick's sister Ava Reid and her husband. Mike and Jane's places were empty; the bride and groom were still making the rounds of the ballroom and trying to speak to every guest. "But dinner was great."

"I like these favors, don't you?" Ava said brightly, glancing at the label on her bottle of water. "What a sweet idea - they personalized the bottle label!"

"Yes, it is a nice idea. I went over to Jane's one night to help with the wedding arrangements and I remember they were trying to decide what to use as table favors," Martha answered. She was amused to see individual corkscrews on the table as well as the water. "I guess this is Jane's idea of a compromise," she muttered to her husband. "They got both."

Aaron chuckled and then glanced across the ballroom to where the band was setting up. "Looks like the music's going to start soon. I'm going to ask them for a two-step."

Martha's face lit up. "I would love that, Aaron –" she began, then arched an eyebrow and added, "Look who's headed our way." Following her glance, Aaron saw former President Hal Gardner with his wife Beth in tow. He sighed and stood up, offering his hand to Gardner.

"Mr. President. Mrs. Gardner, nice to see you."

"Aaron. Martha, you look lovely." Gardner gave Aaron a warm shake of the hand and Martha a kiss on the cheek. "It's good to see you." Aaron quickly introduced Mike's family to the Gardners; Mrs. Reid fell into conversation with Beth, leaving Hal to the Pierces.

"My publisher told me you're writing a book, is that right?" Martha asked.

"Yes," Gardner admitted, looking pleased. "The history of American criminal law and how it evolved in different parts of the country. British law, you know, versus the Napoleonic code in Louisiana and so forth."

"Are you happy to be back in law?"

"Love it. I'm doing some speaking and consulting, keeping busy. You seem to be keeping busy yourself," he added with a smile. "If my book is half the success yours is, I'll be very happy." He turned to Aaron and added: "I heard a rumor you'd been offered the position of Director, Aaron. Is that true?"

"Yes, it is," Aaron answered, wondering how Gardner had heard. "But Martha and I will be moving to Texas next year, and I had to turn it down. Eric McFadden is going to be Director."

"McFadden… ah, yes. I've met him. I'm sure he'll do a good job, but you would have made an outstanding Director, Aaron." Gardner collected his wife and moved on; Aaron held Martha's chair for her and whispered, "How did he hear that Director Finch offered me the job?"

"It's Washington, Aaron. Maybe Finch told him, maybe he heard it from somebody else." Martha shrugged.

"I just hope it doesn't get all over town. Eric won't be very happy about it." Aaron frowned. "Well, I'm going to go request our dance. I'll be back in a minute." Martha watched him thread his way across the room and stop to chat with the Service agents who had accompanied the Gardners to the reception. She turned back to Ava Reid, who was clearly thrilled to have had the chance to meet a President (even a former one).

"What a masterful looking man!" she dithered. "And his wife is very nice. Isn't she, dear?" Barely giving her spouse a chance to answer, she continued: "You must have enjoyed working with her, Martha."

"Oh yes," Martha lied. "She's very organized, supports a lot of worthy causes. When Aaron and I got married, she had a reception for us. It was kind of her," she added, more truthfully. "She didn't have to do that, but she volunteered."

"Oh, it must have been lovely."

"It was… oh, look. Mike and Jane are starting their dance! Let's go over," Martha commented, happy to leave the topic of the Gardners.

After the Novicks had waltzed Martha applauded politely and began to look around for Aaron, only to see the master of ceremonies at her elbow. "Mr. and Mrs. Novick would like to dance with you and your husband next," he whispered, and a few moments later Martha found herself being steered around the dance floor by Mike. She complimented him on the reception and then suddenly remembered another time they had danced, which had been much less pleasant: it had been at a White House reception. Charles had basically ordered Novick to dance with her, both to quell rumors that she was on bad terms with his Chief of Staff and to get her away from the bar. She had been angry and humiliated and Novick had been embarrassed.

Mike noticed her expression. "Everything all right, Martha?" he asked, concerned.

Martha brought herself back to the present with an effort. It's over, she reminded herself. That life is over.

"Everything's fine, Mike. It was just a bad memory. Sometimes I remember the way things were a few years ago – call it a flashback if you want to."

Novick looked serious. "Martha, you have made an amazing recovery. You have a lot to be proud of, and Jane thinks you're marvelous. The day Charles was arrested I told Aaron that I had seriously underestimated you, but I don't think I ever apologized to you. I'm sorry. I wish I had listened to you back when I could have been more of a help."

"It's okay, Mike. He had us all fooled. Me included, and I was married to him." Trying to turn the subject, she asked: "How long is your honeymoon going to be?"

"Two weeks. It's the longest vacation I've taken in years."

"So the Institute is keeping you busy?"

Novick began to describe his latest work project, and Martha relaxed. As their dance came to an end the band struck up a two-step and Aaron tapped her shoulder.

"Watch this, Mike!" she laughed, taking Aaron's hand. Mike watched them for a moment and then smiled at his bride. "Want to give it a shot?"

"You bet! I remember this from their wedding."

Moments later, other couples crowded onto the dance floor and began imitating their steps. "I think we started something!" Aaron called over the music; Martha flashed him a grin of agreement and kept dancing.

Later that evening the Pierces returned to their darkened apartment. Martha hung up their coats and then turned and hugged her husband tightly.

"What is it, Martha? I know something was bothering you tonight," he whispered.

"Nothing bad. It's just that when I was dancing with Mike I had this sudden memory of another time we were dancing that wasn't so much fun. It was at a reception about six months after John Keeler was killed. Mike and I – " she paused. "We didn't get along."

"I remember. I was there." Aaron's jaw tightened.

Martha looked at him for a moment in wonder, and then realized – of course he had been there. He had always been there. Overwhelmed, she buried her face in his shoulder for a moment and then continued: "Mike was very sweet tonight. He apologized and said he wished he had listened more to me then. And then you started dancing with me," her face lit up, "and it was as though none of that time had ever happened. I feel so lucky, Aaron. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I don't know what I'd do without you either. I look back sometimes too, and I can't believe how unhappy I was. Even though I wouldn't admit it." He felt Martha kiss him on the cheek and continued. "I cut myself off from everyone. My family, friends, everyone I worked with, and I was too proud to admit it."

More kisses on his face. "I don't know where I'd be without you, Martha. But it wouldn't be anyplace I'd want to be." On impulse, he bent, picked her up and felt her gasp as he carried her down the hall.

"Where are we going?"

"Guess."

Nathan was standing in the aisle at Hernandez Hardware focusing on choosing paint colors when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "I haven't seen you in a while, Nathan. Everything okay?"

"Everything's great, Frank." Nathan felt a twinge of guilt: Frank Emerson was his oldest friend, but in the past month he had not called him once. He was spending as much time with Lupe as possible and working with Tony to prepare the stretch of ranch land that was shortly to become a vineyard. "It's just that, you know, things are really busy. Between the ranch and working on the house, it's nonstop."

"Uh huh." Emerson dropped a case of motor oil into his cart. "Well, I got to get back to the lot. Dad just got a bunch of cars in he wants me to work on." He glanced at Nathan. "Want to come by?"

Nathan had spent several afternoons at the Emerson used-car lot when he had first moved back to town and had been happy to help Frank with odd jobs. "Sure—" he began, but stopped as Tony joined them.

"You get everything, Nathan?" he asked and then nodded to Emerson.

"This is Tony Hernandez, Frank. He's the one who got me planting grapes."

Emerson shook hands with Tony, giving Nathan a quizzical look. "So I guess you can't come by, then?"

"No, we'll come by. Meet you there in ten minutes." Emerson nodded and left the hardware store.

"What's up?"

"Frank's my oldest friend, Tony. When I was growing up we lived in Washington, but we came back here every summer to visit family and that's how I met him. I haven't seen much of him lately, I've been too busy. I've got to spend some time with him this afternoon. He and his dad run Emerson's Used Cars."

"Yeah? I've been there a few times, looking. I wouldn't mind going by and seeing what they've got."

"No more cars, Tony," his father added sternly from behind the register. "You've already got those two that don't run."

"They will run someday, Dad. But I promise, no more cars." Tony flashed a grin at Nathan. "Let's go."

Tony's interested questions and knowledge of cars soon warmed Emerson to him. Soon they were deep in conversation over one of the cars Frank's father had recently bought, and Nate took the opportunity to call Lupe.

"How are you, darlin'?"

"Wonderful. It's a slow afternoon, I think I can get off work a little early. What are you doing?"

"I'm still at Emerson's, bringing Frank oil filters and brake fluid and watching him talk to your brother about cars. I think they'll be announcing their engagement any day now."

Lupe laughed. "You know Tony and cars."

"Sure do. I should have introduced him to Frank sooner. What time do you want me to pick you up tonight?"

Nathan, having decided to fix dinner at the ranch, produced grilled fish, potatoes and a salad that impressed Lupe. "I wish you could teach my dad to cook," she teased him after dinner. "Tony says he's tried but Papa just isn't interested."

"Do you do most of the cooking, then?"

"Almost all of it. Unless I can nag Tony to do it."

Picking up his guitar, Nathan opened the screen door and beckoned her outside. "I'll do the dishes later. Come out on the porch for awhile."

Lupe leaned back against him with her eyes closed, listening to him play and enjoying the evening breeze. "It's wonderful here, Nathan," she commented when he finished. "So very peaceful. Do you like living here?"

"I really do. I've liked being on my own. It gets a little lonesome at night, but I really think I like being here better than being in town."

Lupe nodded in agreement. "I wish I could stay."

"I'd like you to stay, Lupe. If you want," he added hesitantly.

Lupe turned in Nathan's arms and smiled into his eyes. "I want to tell you something. When we started going out I was suspicious. I thought you'd lose interest in me, or that you'd meet somebody else… when I met you I didn't think I wanted to date anyone ever again. But I'm happier than I've ever been." Her expression turned serious. "I love you, Nathan."

"I love you too, Lupe. I don't feel like a whole person anymore without you. When I moved here I had no plans, no idea how long I would stay. But I know what I want to do with my life now. I want to spend it with you."

Lupe took his face in her hands and kissed him. After a few breathless minutes, she whispered, "I can't stay all night. Papa wouldn't like it. But I can stay for a while."

"Then maybe we should…"

"Yes. We should." A few moments later, as Nathan and Lupe vanished inside, a puzzled Oso was left alone on the porch staring through the screen door.

"Your grouping is getting better," Aaron commented to Agent McFadden, reviewing his target. He had suggested that they begin meeting weekly at the range the agents used for target practice. "It shows you take field duty seriously, and it'll get you meeting with the agents on a regular basis," he had explained.

Although Eric McFadden had not bothered with target practice in years, he had recognized the logic of Aaron's idea and quickly agreed. So far it seemed to be working: It was now common knowledge that Eric would be the next Director, and the initial reaction among most agents had not been enthusiastic. Aaron's public support of McFadden had been helpful in changing their minds; this, with Eric's efforts to be seen in the field more frequently, had improved most agents' attitudes toward the transition. Aaron's main problem was now to encourage McFadden to work more closely with Jon Cardona. This had been difficult at first since McFadden had his own assistant, an agent named Woods who seemed to spend most of his time agreeing with everything Eric McFadden said or did. Aaron had asked Jon for his opinion of Woods and had gotten a profanity-laced response that confirmed his own suspicions.

"That brown-nosing little…" Cardona sputtered. "He's a disgrace to the Service. Nothing but a damn bureaucrat. All he does is sit in meetings and make coffee for his boss."

"Kinda what I thought."

"I know you want me to work with McFadden, Aaron. And I'm trying. But that idiot Woods isn't going to let go of his gravy train without a fight, and I'm not going to stoop to his level. I don't have time to compliment the boss all day when there's work to be done."

"I'm not asking you to. But you might ask Eric for advice. Treat him as a mentor."

Jon snorted. "Advice about what? Why would I do that when I've got you?"

"I'm not going to be around much longer, Jon. I'll be retiring in less than a year. And you don't need me anyway, you know all there is to know about working in the field. I'm talking about administrative stuff. Getting promoted, the committees you might want to be on… I was never any good at that. It's a stroke of luck that I got promoted at all."

"You got promoted because you're the best there is. McFadden's all right. There's more to him than I thought there was. But it would have been great having you as Director, Aaron."

Aaron smiled. "Thanks, Jon. I appreciate it. But it's about more than just working with the agents. Meeting with Congress, fighting for funds for the budget and all that isn't my thing. Eric's a lot better at that than I am. He has the administrative strengths, but you have the field strengths. If I can just get him to realize that and maybe send Woods off to a Treasury post somewhere where he can't hurt anything, the two of you would make a really good team. You might wind up being Director some day yourself."

Jon looked first surprised, then thoughtful. "I guess I never really thought of it that way. Trish would love that!" he added with a laugh.

Now as they left the target range Aaron was wondering if this were the right time to discuss this with McFadden. "Jon's enjoying working with you, by the way," he began cautiously.

"Good! It's a pleasure working with him, too, Aaron. Very sound agent. He's taught me a lot I didn't know about field operations."

"He's been an incredible help to me, Eric. I'd really like to see him learn more about the administrative side of things so he could be more help to you after I leave. What's the name of your current assistant again?"

"Paul Woods. Do the two of you know each other?"

"Not really," Aaron replied neutrally.

McFadden, swept up in his good mood, became expansive. "He's a useful fellow to have around. He knows where the bodies are buried, if you know what I mean, what the current Washington gossip is, and I can bounce ideas off him anytime."

"Has he ever disagreed with you? About one of your ideas?"

McFadden came to a sudden stop. "What do you mean?"

"Has he ever told you something you didn't want to hear? Something that was important, that you needed to know?" Aaron waved Eric into his office and shut the door.

"Like what?"

"Did you ever, say, talk to him about wanting to be Director someday?"

"Why?" McFadden became defensive. "Are you saying I shouldn't have said that?"

"No, Eric, that's not my point. What I'm really trying to say is, I think Jon Cardona would be a better assistant director for you than Woods. Jon never hesitates to tell me if he thinks there's a better way for me to do something, and sometimes I need to hear that. Just humor me for a second. What did Woods say when you talked to him about your ambition to be Director?"

"He said I was a shoo-in. That there was no way Director Finch could even consider anybody else…" Eric's voice trailed off. "I think I see your point." He stood up and moved restlessly around the office, picked up Aaron and Martha's wedding photograph and stared at it for a moment. "I even talked to him about my marriage. My wife wanted to go for counseling. He said it was unnecessary." He put the photograph down again and turned away. "I see what you're saying, but it's not that easy. I've worked with Woods for years. I can't just dump him."

"I'm not asking you to dump him. Find him something else to do. Send him to Treasury; he can be helpful to you there. But part of being Director is making tough decisions, and I honestly believe this is something you need to do."

"He agreed," Aaron finished. "He really wasn't happy about it, but he understood. It's been easier working with Eric than I thought it would be. He seems to be more willing to listen."

"Well, he's been through some shakeups. Getting divorced, and finding out he wasn't the top choice for the job he wanted," Angie responded. "Maybe he's finally learning some stuff he needed to learn."

"It's never too late to learn. I guess I would be proof of that."

Angie patted him on the shoulder. "You're doing all right, Aaron. You've done great." It was her last day of work with Martha before leaving for Philadelphia and Aaron had left the office to come to lunch with them.

Martha leaned back and looked at the two of them with affection. "You've done so much for us, Angie. More than you'll ever know."

"Aaron gets the credit. It was his idea for me to interview with you in the first place. And I've really enjoyed working with you, Martha. It's been so much more fun than the Pentagon." Angie smiled. "Never a dull moment."

"I don't know if I can write my next book without you."

Aaron looked alarmed. "Next book?"

"My publisher told me way back before the book came out that he was hoping I could come up with another one. I told him I didn't think that I could, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. Angie just told me to write down all my ideas." Martha gave Aaron a wicked look. "Do you want to hear them?"

"Go ahead."

"A cookbook." Martha paused for Angie and Aaron's shouts of laughter. "Yes, I know, but I thought about it for a minute."

"Sixty Ways to Fix Tuna?"

"Oh, shut up, Aaron." Martha found herself laughing as well. "I'm not quite that bad."

"No, honey, no, you're not, but I just couldn't help it."

"You'll be happy to know that I gave up that idea. Then I thought about a novel."

Aaron stopped laughing. "That might work, but what about?"

"Well, I kept thinking about all the stories I saw and heard in Washington. But I couldn't figure out how to write about them without getting sued. Then I thought, why not move the action to Texas?"

"Sort of a riff on Peyton Place?" queried Angie.

"Exactly. It's so old it's new again. Plus, I think I can make it work. You know, draw the reader into the story, that sort of thing."

"Absolutely! You did that the first time around. Just make sure nobody can recognize the actual people, fictionalize them a bit and that would be great."

"I'll keep working on it. Just remember that we don't want this to be goodbye." Martha leaned forward to hug Angie. "You and Marie are welcome to visit us any time. Best of luck, Angie."