Part 21 (2/2)
”All very quiet, naturally. Sort of a personal inquiry,” Charlotte told her.
”Woodrow had Sandy looking into a few things. What else is a campaign manager for after all? Want some munchies?” Tara shook her head.
”Anyway, it was a woman who was laid off ages ago. She pa.s.sed the memo along to person unknown for a fee. Now she's terrified Woodrow will prosecute for theft even though that's not what it was at all. She just found it in her personal things.”
”He's not going to, is he?”
”Of course not,” Charlotte sniffed, her arms crossed as she rested against the counter.
”Can you imagine? Woodrow prosecuting a woman who's been out of work for almost a year, for giving the authorities something that could be construed as proof that Woodrow is the real culprit. He might as well stand on the Senate steps and wait for the old knife in the back.”
”Well,” Tara sighed, ”I'd say that Woodrow is about due for a change of fortune. He's really been weathering one storm after another.”
”I'll say. I could have shot that stringer who showed up at the party at La Posada. Everything was planned so perfectly, then there she was. I should have seen her coming.” Charlotte poured the wine and gave a gla.s.s to Tara.
”The way I should have seen Ben coming?” Tara asked. Charlotte colored, smiling a sweet and innocent smile.
”Mad?”
”Nope,” Tara admitted.
”Heard from him?”
”He called,” she said.
”And?”
”And I've been busy. I'll call him. I promise. I actually would like to apologize for running out on him that night Your pot's going to boil over.” Tara raised a hand and Charlotte jumped to rescue the pasta.
”I saw that. You were out of there like a bat out of h.e.l.l. What was going on?” Tara ignored the question; Charlotte ignored the silence.
”So you're feeling better?” Charlotte drained the pasta, added a squirt of olive oil, and smiled at Tara.
”What?” Charlotte nodded and Tara raised her arm.
”Oh, much, thanks. I can't imagine how that happened. My mind was on other things.”
”Things can happen that way. I know I worry about Woodrow when he has a lot on his mind.”
She sipped at her wine, stirred something in another pot, opened the oven, and checked the bread.
”I think of him having a car accident, or having a heart attack or something. But sometimes I just worry about him failing because that would just kill Woodrow.”
”Everyone fails sometimes, Charlotte,” Tara said.
”You can't protect a grown man from that. Besides, Woodrow can hold his own. Grief is something he can dish out.”
Tara twirled her winegla.s.s and looked out the picture window onto the Webers' impeccable backyard.
Charlotte's husband, that selfless public servant, wasn't all he appeared to be, but it wasn't her place to point that out.
”I hear you're giving some back,” Charlotte answered, taking her attention from the stove, giving it to Tara.
”Grief, I mean.” The two women looked at one another for a minute that stretched to two.
Charlotte smiled and held out her hand.
”Pa.s.s me that colander, will you, Tara?” It was in her hands and a second pot of pasta drained by the time Tara recovered her wits.
”Charlotte?” Tara was cautious and Charlotte was chatty.
”Get the salad out of the refrigerator, will you?”
Tara stayed where she was. Charlotte got the salad herself. They both knew what was coming and Charlotte had the chutzpah to force the issue.
”Tara, come on, we'll talk about it over dinner. Sit down again, have some wine. It's no big deal.”
Charlotte made up a plate for Tara and was holding one for herself.
Tara looked at neither.
Her appet.i.te had died. Charlotte fluttered her lashes and finally put her plate on the table.
”Okay. I'm sorry I said anything, but I couldn't help it. Woodrow's worried about this thing between you and him, and I'm worried about him and you. There, I said it. Now, please eat. I worked all day on that.”
”Woodrow put you up to this, didn't he?”
Charlotte lay her fork down with great deliberation.
She reached for her throat, but the pearls weren't there and this wasn't a meeting of the sisterhood of homemakers.
”Of course not. Woodrow can fight his own battles. I'm telling you as a friend that I'm concerned that this Circle K thing could ruin a friends.h.i.+p that has stood for years.”
”It can't possibly, Charlotte. Our profession has nothing to do with how we feel about one another.
Those are two different relations.h.i.+ps,” Tara answered, knowing if Charlotte went much further she would amend that statement.
”Not if what you're doing professionally affects your friend's ambitions. Not if you are deliberately holding back information on a dangerous man, one whose incarceration could result in a safer community as well as help Woodrow get what he wants.”
”I'm not a part of Woodrow's campaign. Charlotte”*Tara pushed away from the table*”and I'm not sure you should be quite so well versed on the details of the district attorney's business.”
”Now that's ridiculous,” Charlotte laughed humorlessly.
”I'm Woodrow's wife. You think he doesn't tell me what he does with his day?”
”I would have thought he'd keep information general, but it seems that Woodrow likes to fill you in on the specifics. And you're the second person today who doesn't seem to think there's anything wrong with shading a line here or there between professional ethics and personal curiosity. What's this world coming to?” Tara drawled and pushed the chair into the table as she headed out.
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