Martha cautiously reached out to the bedside table and picked up her watch. Squinting at the glowing dial, she estimated it was ten to three local time. In contrast to her peacefully sleeping lover, she'd dozed restlessly through the night; she knew she had a tendency to overanticipate stressful situations (when she'd first started seeing Dr. Young, the less polite term obsess had been bruited about), and her old bad habits were kicking in. She was tempted to look for her antianxiety pills, but wrapped her arms around Aaron instead and tried to match her breathing to his.
What if his mother doesn't like me? she wondered. What if his entire family doesn't like me? Is Diane going to start stalking us? Okay, now I've really gone off the deep end…
Her conversation with Angie a few days before had triggered her current state of mind, she decided. As they'd been sorting clothes for her trip to Texas, she'd noticed that Angie was selecting several ensembles slightly more glamorous than she'd thought would be necessary for a family Christmas get-together. "Angie, I don't want to underdress for this trip, but I don't want to overdress either. Is there going to be some sort of function Aaron didn't tell me about?"
"No." Angie had the grace to look guilty. "It's just that I want you to look really good. You know, impress Aaron's family. And other reasons."
"Is the 'other reason' named Diane?" Martha took Angie's hesitation as an answer. "Aaron told me about his divorce when he was in the hospital."
Angie answered indirectly. "I never could stand her." This was the most negative comment Martha had ever heard her make about anyone. "Did you go to high school with her?" she asked cautiously.
"Yes." Angie sighed. "The truth is I never did think it was a good idea for Aaron to marry her, but I didn't feel I could speak up. It was about the time I broke up with his brother, and I didn't think my input would mean much."
"What was it about her you didn't like?"
"It's hard to put your finger on it. She was the sort of person who was always sweet if she wanted to make a good impression, but around people whose opinion didn't matter to her she could be quite different. I wouldn't say she treated me like dirt, but even when it looked like we might become sisters-in-law she never gave a damn about me." Angie thought further. "She always made me feel… uncomfortable. Does that make any sense?"
"It makes a lot of sense. I've known plenty of people like that."
"She enjoyed being queen of her own little ant hill, and she was sweet to Aaron as long as she had what she wanted. But when they moved to Washington and she wasn't top dog any more, it was another story. She was a nobody there and she couldn't stand that."
"She doesn't sound too nice," Martha commented.
"I'll give her credit, she's been a good mother to Nate. She would've left a lot sooner if it hadn't been for him. Aaron worked long hours and she kept things running while he was gone. She's organized." Angie said this with grudging respect.
"And she still lives there? In this town that you're from?"
"As far as I know, yes. This guy she left Aaron for, they broke up about a year ago. I wouldn't put it past Diane to see if she could snag Aaron again."
"Well, we both know that's not going to happen," Martha said flatly.
"And now you know why I'm pulling these outfits." Angie grinned.
The next thing Martha was aware of was the telephone ringing and sunlight illuminating the room. Aaron groped for the phone and spoke sleepily into the receiver.
"Hello… yeah, Bill, we're here… we're not up yet. Give us a few. I'll call you back when we're ready to drive over." He hung up and turned to Martha, who was shivering. "It gets a little chilly here overnight," he observed, pulling her closer.
"Mmm." She rested her head on his chest, closing her eyes. "Does your brother want us over there?"
"ASAP. I'm quoting him." Aaron chuckled, then shook Martha gently. "Did you sleep okay?"
"Not really." She yawned, saw the look of concern on his face and added, "The truth is I was having anxiety attacks all night."
He looked puzzled: "Why?"
"Aaron, do you think your family's going to like me?"
"Yes, I do," he said seriously. "My mother got along really well with Diane, and they still do volunteer work together. But after the divorce she figured out that just because she liked her daughter-in-law it didn't guarantee we'd stay married. Last year my mother told me that all she wanted was for me to find someone who really loved me." He looked at her for a moment. "That doesn't mean they'll get you, I mean where you're coming from. Our backgrounds aren't the same, there's no getting around it. But as long as they see we're happy, they'll be happy. I promise you that." He kissed her.
They showered and dressed quickly; as they were stepping out the door of their motel room, Aaron turned back. "Can't forget this." He ran his hand under the pillow and pulled out his gun. Martha nodded silently in response. Knowing Aaron was with her in a professional capacity cast a slight chill over their holiday. As they walked to the car Aaron waved to the motel's proprietor, an elderly man who knew Aaron by name: "Morning, Mr. Wynn. Everything okay?"
"Everything's quiet, Aaron. Night shift didn't report anything."
"Great, thanks a bunch. We'll be at my brother's if you need to reach us. I don't know when we'll be back."
"Just call me when you leave. You've got the number?"
"Yes, sir, I do. Thanks again for your help." Martha added her thanks with a warm smile and a handshake; Mr. Wynn ducked his head to her. "Ma'am, it's a pleasure."
As they got into the car, Martha gave Aaron an admiring look. "So this is how you got Jon Cardona to stay in Washington with his family?"
A corner of Aaron's mouth turned up as he started the car. "Now you know why I picked this motel. I've known Mr. Wynn for years. His kids and I were in football together. I talked to the chief of police, too; he knows you're here and he's got his men keeping an eye on things. One good thing about a small town, strangers stand out. I don't think anybody's likely to follow us here, but if they did we'd know about it the minute they showed up."
"I'm starting to feel like Harrison Ford in Witness."
Aaron shook with laughter. "We're not that far behind the times, Martha."
Ten minutes later they pulled into a long driveway. As Martha noted the "Pierce" on the mailbox, her heart started to pound. Just as her hands turned cold in her lap, Aaron stopped the car at the back of the house and the car was surrounded by a clutch of welcoming relatives. Martha quickly ransacked her memory in the hope of matching names to faces: The only man in the group, with a weathered face and red hair similar to Aaron's, had to be his brother Bill; the older woman in the background, slowest to leave the house, was clearly their mother. The two adult women present were Aaron's widowed sister Barbara ("Her husband was killed in a car accident at Fort Bliss," Aaron had explained) and sister-in-law Ann. The kids, Martha decided, could be sorted out later.
"Aaron!" Bill had embraced Aaron and was pounding him on the back. "Good to see you! And you must be—"
"Martha Powell. Nice to meet you, Bill." Sensing Bill's surprise, she added, "My legal name is still Martha Powell Logan, but I'm going back to my maiden name." She found herself introduced to both Ann and Barbara and then they were swept into the kitchen. "Martha, this is my mother, Gertrude Pierce," Aaron added hastily.
Taking Mrs. Pierce's hand, Martha found herself inspected by a pair of friendly but extremely sharp eyes. "How do you do, Mrs. Pierce, it's nice to meet you," she managed. She was reassured by Gertrude Pierce's pleasant expression, but was conscious that she was still very much under inspection. She was sure her reputation from the news media had preceded her to Texas, and wondered if the Pierces thought Aaron was dating a refugee from a mental institution. Bill and Barbara were clearly both younger than Aaron, and for the first time Martha felt apprehensive about the fact that she was older.
"Shame Nathan couldn't be here to meet you," she heard Bill saying.
"Yes, it is a shame," Martha responded. "I know he was trying to get leave, but his chances didn't look that good. We didn't hear anything before we left Washington. I know Aaron's disappointed, but we'll get together with him on his next leave."
They were now in the living room, the centerpiece of which was a Christmas tree decorated with homemade ornaments and with a modest pile of presents underneath it. Martha found herself flashing back to the tree she and Charles had had the previous year. Her depression had been worsening, and she couldn't muster the energy or the interest to work on it; rather than do without a tree, Charles had turned the project over to a team of professionals. The result looked as if robots had decorated it: spectacular but soulless. Martha found herself warming to the Pierces. "That's a beautiful tree," she commented to Ann.
"The kids decorated it. Didn't you, guys? Barbara brought her kids over and we made a party of it." Ann smiled at the five children hanging back in the doorway. The oldest, a girl who looked about seventeen, was the only one who didn't smile in response; her face was set in a sullen downturn. "Don't you want to come say hi to your Uncle Aaron, Jennifer?" Ann added somewhat anxiously.
Jennifer glanced across the room to where Aaron and Bill were chatting. "Maybe later," she said curtly and abruptly left the room. Looking embarrassed, Barbara and Ann glanced at each other. "She misses Nathan," Barbara explained. "He was more of an older brother to her than a cousin. When she heard he wasn't going to make it home she got really upset."
Ann nodded in agreement: "She's been giving us fits, and lately it's gotten worse. I don't know what's come over her. Do you have any tips for dealing with teenagers, Martha?"
"I've never had any children." In an attempt to soften the bluntness of her answer, Martha hastily added, "We tried. I got pregnant twice, miscarried twice. In those days fertility treatments weren't as advanced as now. We thought about adopting, but right about that time Charles's political career started to take off and he never talked about it again." Her explanation was followed by an awkward pause, which was interrupted a moment later when Bill called across the room, "Martha, I hear you're interested in horses? Aaron and I are going out to the stables. Come with us?"
On her way back from the bathroom later in the morning Martha passed a half-open door in the upstairs hallway. Looking in, she saw Jennifer slumped on the bed hugging a pillow in the classic pose of the alienated teenager. Hesitantly, she tapped on the door. "Hey. Want to come downstairs?"
"Not really." Jennifer rolled over and glared at Martha. "Did my mother send you up here?"
"No. I was just coming back from the bathroom and, I don't know, you looked unhappy. Like you could use somebody to talk to."
"I guess you'd know. You're the 'troubled former First Lady,' right?"
"That's me." Martha chose to ignore the girl's sarcasm. "If your problem is that nobody listens to you, believe me, I know where you're coming from."
Jennifer's gaze sharpened, and she sat upright. "That scarf you're wearing… where'd you get it? It's this season's design, right?"
"Yes. I bought it right before we left Washington." Martha sat down on the bed. "Are you interested in fashion?"
"Well, yeah. Not that I'm any good or anything. But I'm interested." Jennifer fished a crumpled newspaper from under the bed. "I get the New York Times every week to check the fashion section. And I did a portfolio for my fall project, but I got a crappy grade. I might as well not have bothered."
"Can I take a look?"
Jennifer shrugged. "Sure." Martha flipped through the pages with a growing sense of surprise: "This is good! Some of this is at least as well designed as what I've seen in the stores."
Jennifer pointed silently to a C scrawled in red ink on the cover. Martha stared at her. "Your teacher gave you a C? On what basis?"
"I don't know. She just didn't like it, I guess." Jennifer scowled. "She kept wanting me to design stuff that looked like house dresses. I told her I wasn't going to prostitute myself."
Martha kept a straight face with difficulty. "Don't you think that might have had something to do with your grade?"
The girl gave a quick shrug. "Might've."
"Well, listen. One thing I know something about is fashion. I know good design when I see it and this is it. Don't sell yourself short, okay? Why don't you apply to design school?"
"Because my parents don't want me to." The girl sighed. "They want me to study accounting or something, so I can make a living."
Martha was struck by an idea. "I'm going to be back in Texas in a month or so. I've got to make a speech in Dallas. Could you meet me there?"
"In Dallas?" Jennifer snorted. "We barely make it to El Paso twice a year."
Martha bit a fingernail, thinking. "Let me work on this. I don't want to promise anything, but I have an idea."
"Okay, sure." Jennifer stared at her hopefully. "Whatever you say."
"In the meantime, why don't you come downstairs with me? I know your Uncle Aaron wants to see you."
Ann looked stunned when Jennifer docilely followed Martha into the living room. She sat on an ottoman next to Aaron and started to talk to him about Nathan; Martha followed a savory smell into the kitchen, where Mrs. Pierce was chopping vegetables. "Can I help?" she asked.
"If you'd like to, sure. We're making chili for lunch and extra for the shut-ins in the neighborhood. Our church delivers frozen meals for them every two weeks. It's Aaron's favorite recipe," she added with a smile.
Martha immediately found herself wondering what Aaron thought of her chili, then told herself to knock it off. "I'll be happy to help, Mrs. Pierce." She rolled up her sleeves and tried to look enthused about chopping onions.
Martha had to admit that the chili was delicious. She was speculating on her chances of getting the recipe from Gertrude Pierce and helping to wash up after lunch when she overheard Barbara on the phone: "Oh, that's all right, I understand… Feel better. Don't worry, we'll manage." She hung up and groaned. "I don't have time for this."
"What happened?" Martha inquired.
"One of our meal delivery volunteers is down with the flu. We're short-handed because of the holidays anyway, and this just makes it worse."
"Can I give you a hand? If you need extra help I'd be happy to do whatever I can."
Barbara looked immensely relieved. "Would you really do that? It'd be great—" her face suddenly changed and she turned to Jennifer, who had been helping to clear the table. "Don't worry about it, Martha. Jennifer will help me, won't you, honey?"
Martha was puzzled at Barbara's obvious change of heart, and her surprise sharpened to suspicion when she saw Jennifer's reflexive look of rebellion change to understanding. "Sure, Aunt Barbara," she said hastily, and was turning to leave the room when Martha stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
"Does this have anything to do with Aaron's ex-wife?" she asked, and knew her hunch had been correct when she saw the look on Barbara's face. "Look, I'm not worried about meeting her. It's got to happen sooner or later, and it might as well be sooner, don't you think?" She glanced between the two of them. "Just tell me this. Do you need some extra help or don't you?"
"We do," Barbara admitted reluctantly, "but I don't want to put you in a difficult position, Martha."
"Barbara, believe me. After everything I've been through this year, this is not something that bothers me. As long as I'm not going to get shot at I'm okay with it." Her quip raised a grin from Jennifer: "Okay, Aunt Martha, let's go." Trying not to let her jaw drop, Martha traded glances with Barbara and helped Jennifer carry the bagged portions of chili out to the car.
Martha had wondered if she would somehow instinctively recognize Aaron's ex-wife. It turned out to be simpler than she had thought, since only one other woman was present when they arrived at the community center; as they were introduced, Diane Pierce stared at Martha in a way that reminded her immediately of Beth Gardner. Somehow this gave her confidence: If I can handle Beth, I can handle her. Summoning up the remnants of her First Lady persona, Martha smiled politely and shook hands. If Diane had had any intention of confronting Martha, this calm approach seemed to change her mind; after a brief "hello," Diane seemed to back off and talked mostly to Gertrude Pierce as they worked. Jennifer stuck close to Martha, shooting several hostile glances at Diane. In a relatively short time, thirty boxed meals were assembled and ready for delivery.
"I'll go with Diane, dear," Gertrude said to Barbara. "Martha, could you deliver these eight? They're the closest, and Jennifer can show you where to go." Barbara frowned as her mother and former sister-in-law left. "I thought Mother would go with you, not Diane," she commented.
"It doesn't matter," Martha answered quickly. "I know they're still friends. Aaron told me this morning."
Jennifer's response to Martha's diplomacy was a snort of disgust. "I don't know why Grandma likes Aunt Diane," she confided as they delivered the completed meals. "She always thought I was a pest and hung around Nathan too much."
Aaron was practicing football passes in the front yard with his nephews when his ex-wife and his mother drove up. As Aaron watched, it was clear that Gertrude was encouraging Diane to come in and visit; after a brief conversation, Diane shook her head, gave Gertrude a brief hug and put the car into reverse. Aaron walked into the house with his mother, who was looking somewhat disappointed. "I was hoping the two of you could have a talk," she explained.
"We don't have much to talk about these days," Aaron retorted. "I thought Martha was going to bring you back? I thought it would be a good chance for you to get to know her."
Gertrude Pierce shook her head. "I don't know what to say to her, Aaron. She really is nice. She's been wonderful with Jennifer and she seems very sweet. She just… she's not the woman I thought you'd fall in love with."
"I know. But I love her. More than that, I trust her. I know how she feels about me and I know she'll never let me down. After Diane, that means more to me than anything." Aaron looked at her. "I thought you'd understand that."
"You always said you wanted to have more children," she reminded him.
He shrugged. "That isn't going to happen. It would have been nice, but it isn't as important as it used to be. After everything that's happened this year I'm lucky to be alive, let alone to have found someone like Martha. You've told me a hundred times that we don't get everything we want in this world." Impulsively, he walked over and hugged her. "I'm going to marry her. She's going to be part of this family. Please, try a little harder to get to know her. It's important." He smiled at his mother's stunned response: "You mean you've already asked her?"
"No, I haven't. It's too soon for that, but I already know she's the one. I'm hoping by this time next year we'll be married. For sure we'll be engaged."
"You never used to be this impulsive, Aaron." She looked at him in surprise. "You've changed."
"I probably have. I've wasted four years since the divorce, and I'm not going to do that any more. Life's just too short. I know how I feel, I know how Martha feels, and I think I'm happier than I've ever been in my life." Their conversation was cut short as Jennifer and Martha returned.
Late that evening Aaron and Martha returned to their motel room to get ready for the Christmas Eve service. Martha headed straight for her carry-on bag and rummaged through it, retrieving a stack of fashion magazines. "These are for Jennifer," she explained, showing them to Aaron.
Aaron grinned. "So you're getting along with her?"
"Really well. I guess I can identify with her a little bit," Martha admitted. "And her acting out doesn't bother me. I've done my share of that." She flushed, remembering the times in the past that Aaron had been the victim of her frustration, but was relieved when he hugged her. "People do that when they're unhappy. And you're not unhappy any more, are you?"
"No." She hugged him back, tightly. "Aaron, this Christmas is so much better than last year, I can't tell you. I'm really glad I'm here. And I like your family."
He looked at her lovingly, but a little sadly. "I just wish Nathan were here."
"I know you do, sweetheart. I wish he were here too." She gave him a quick kiss. "I guess we'd better get ready for church."
"Wait. I want you to open your present." He handed her a box bearing the logo of a Washington jewelry store. Inside she found a beautifully designed sterling bracelet and matching earrings; their severe geometry, rather than looking formal, somehow enhanced the soft lines of Martha's knit dress. "Aaron, they're beautiful!" She hugged him.
"I thought you could wear them on your speaking tour," he responded, looking pleased.
"I will. They'll bring me good luck." She whirled to her suitcase and extracted a wrapped box: "Now it's your turn." She watched eagerly as he unwrapped the box and pulled out a dull-green cashmere sweater. "Put it on," she urged him. "I want to see how it looks on you."
It fit perfectly, and the green contrasted wonderfully with Aaron's hair and eyes. "I like the neck on this," he commented.
"Zip necks are in on sweaters this year. And it's thin enough to fit under your jacket."
"This is great. Thank you, sweetheart." They held each other close for a moment, then he kissed the tip of her nose and whispered, "Merry Christmas."
The next morning, laden with presents for the family, Aaron and Martha headed over to Bill's. "I'm ready to show off my French toast skills. Do you think they'll be impressed?" Martha asked.
Aaron chuckled. "The kids will be thrilled. I usually grab one of them to help me. Now they can hang around and play with their stuff instead."
As they pulled up to the house, Aaron had to park behind an unfamiliar car in the driveway. "It's early for visitors," he remarked, puzzled.
Bill met them in the hall, looking excited. "We've got a late Christmas present for you, Aaron. It's under the tree." He winked at Martha and gestured for her to follow them.
As they headed into the living room, a young man stepped from behind the tree with a grin on his face. "Hi, Dad! I got leave at the last minute—" his explanation was cut off by Aaron's shout: "Nathan!"
