Part 15 (1/2)

”That's so sweet,” Donna whispered. She looked like she might cry, and then she looked pleased.

”You're feeling bad and you're worried about me.

It's nothing like that. He has headaches*episodes*where he doesn't remember much. Poor thing.” Donna leaned closer, ”Between you and me, I don't think his mom and dad were as wonderful as he makes them out. But he's strong, and he's optimistic. He doesn't even see his therapist any more. Just as well. It sounded like the man was taking him for a ride in the last few years anyway.”

”How so?”

”You know, keeping Bill on for the monthly check. I was surprised to hear it because when Bill mentioned the man's name I thought maybe we had the same doctor. I was so silly.” She laughed at herself.

”I took that as a sign that we were meant to be together. But my Dr. Carol wasn't his Dr. Carrol because mine was a woman and she liked to be called by her first name and his doctor had the last name spelled with two r's.”

”So much for fate.” Tara forced herself to keep her lips tight together so she wouldn't sing an alleluia.

She would have thrown her arms around Donna and crushed her in a bearhug, but then she'd have to explain herself.

”The mistake's understandable.

Albuquerque's not that big a place.

I can see how you'd jump to that conclusion.”

”Oh, that was even sillier. His doctor Carrol isn't even in Albuquerque. He's in Santa Fe.” Donna opted for a handful of crackers this time, no cheese, and sat cross-legged on the couch, happy the conversation was lighter. She picked through the crackers looking for those that were perfectly golden.

”I'd be a basket case if I had to drive all the way to Santa Fe to see my shrink. Wouldn't you?”

Tara laughed, ”I don't know. I think I might drive that far if I thought that was the doctor who could help me.”

”Reverend Halliday, it was so good of you to come. I hope we'll see you again.

Charlotte shook the reverend's one hand in her two and smiled sweetly. He was a huge man with more than his share of extra padding. She'd spent most of the evening wondering if her delicate dining room chairs would hold up until dessert. Now she was sending him on his way, with a little prayer of thanks. The chair had survived.

”I enjoyed myself thoroughly, Mrs. Weber.”

”Charlotte, please,” she responded generously.

”Charlotte. Well, I always thought Woodrow would make a fine governor, but after meeting you I think he's the perfect candidate. It would be wonderful to have a woman in the mansion who enjoyed doing the things women should. The current governor's wife seems to think that she should have her hand in matters of government. Absurd.”

”Well, I enjoy keeping house, boring as that is.

And I'm so glad you enjoyed the dinner. The only problem I'd have as the governor's wife is dealing with all those people who'd want me out of the kitchen.”

Reverend Halliday laughed, gathered his own wife, and lumbered down the walk, leaving behind a pleased Charlotte. She felt triumphant, even though evenings such as this belonged to Woodrow. She set the stage, he stood center. Charlotte was very proud of him and would be his partner to the end.

”Good night!”

Woodrow was beside her now, calling out to the retreating figures. They didn't turn. They hadn't heard him. That was fine. Woodrow put his hand on her shoulders as she closed the door. He kissed the top of her head.

”Come on, I'll help with the dishes.”

”You don't have to, honey,” Charlotte said, secretly pleased when Woodrow trailed her to the dining room and began stacking.

”You had such a miserable day I'm surprised you made it through the dinner. I can't believe Tara asking you to put that man in the hospital just like that.”

”Charlotte, she has a point. I just can't imagine winning that one, and I've taken such a trouncing on the rapist case and now this basketball betting scam with the high school.”

Woodrow raised his voice. He was talking to the air. Charlotte was already in the kitchen with the water running. He carried in six dishes, three winegla.s.ses, and a handful of silver. He deposited them in the sink, sank into a chair, and rubbed his eyes under his gla.s.ses. Charlotte was his best friend, his confidante. Luckily he hadn't married someone with problems as big as his own.

”I'm no expert, Woodrow, but it seems to me that George has a point. Any press is good as long as your name is in front of the public. The governor is getting so much coverage with this crack baby thing. Then he adopted that little baby.

Sometimes I wonder if he didn't do that just for press value.”

”Charlotte.” Woodrow verbally waggled a finger at her overstatement.

”Well, Woodrow, you never know. I do think if there's anything to Tara's client's case, you ought to go for it. I've listened to you talk about the law.

From what you say, a jury would be sympathetic to the victim in this case. They wouldn't need a lot of evidence, would they? I mean sympathy counts for a lot. Look at those two brothers who murdered their parents in California.” Charlotte stacked a few plates in the dishwasher, stole a look at her husband, saw the hurt in his face, and quickly amended her lecture.

”But of course you're the expert, honey.

Whatever you think best. I'm sure you know what's right for everyone.”

Woodrow stood up. He was too tired to talk anymore.

”It's not a matter of making a decision, Charlotte.

Sympathy wouldn't hold up on appeal even if I managed to convict on one piece of evidence and sympathy. And Tara hasn't told me who this man is.”

”Oh, you could figure it out,” Charlotte said brightly , holding her soapy hands over the sink.

”You are the smartest man I know, Woodrow Weber.

I'm so proud of you. You'll get what you need.

A confession or something.”

”Or something,” Woodrow said quietly.

”I thiink I'm going to bed. Do you mind?”

”Of course not. You go on. I won't be a minute.”

Her hands were back in the water. She was happier doing the dishes alone anyway. The ch.o.r.e freed her mind and she let it roam. Plans for the Women Voters Coalition tea were refined. She mentally composed a short two-fold mailer with pictures and she thought about all the things Woodrow had told her about Tara. Another pitfall was die last tfiing Woodrow needed.

Charlotte sighed and rinsed the last of the gla.s.ses. She flipped off the kitchen light and headed upstairs, taking off her jewelry as she went.

She turned off die stairwell light on die landing, and began to unb.u.t.ton her blouse. She'd slip into die pink negligee Woodrow liked so much. But when she got to the bedroom, Woodrow was asleep, his gla.s.ses askew on his nose, an unread brief lying on his chest.