Page 58 of Space Oddities

“Bodyguard,” Gale says with a wave of her clipboard. “Best of the best.” Then she’s on the move, striding confidently across the marble floor in her black pumps, the senator and his wife following in her wake.

“I’ll see her to the ballroom, Mr. Kincaid.” Jonathan sniffs. “No need to worry.”

Seeing that Ian’s ready to argue again, I force myself to take the bodyguard’s arm, even though he didn’t offer it. “I’m fine, stop fussing.” I shoo Ian away with my hand. “Go get your picture taken.”

Ian glances at his father’s retreating back, sighing. “I’ll only be a minute.” He dips down, kissing my cheek.

“Fine, fine.” I cup his jaw with my free hand, holding him still so I can enjoy the intense look in his blue eyes. “Now go. I’m going to get some champagne and stand around looking fabulous.”

That gets a smile. “Sounds good.”

But as I watch him follow his father out of the room, and Jonathan’s first stride tugs my reluctant feet forward, I know I’m going to need a lot more than champagne to get through tonight.

Fifteen

Deepening Doubt

Ian

I should’ve said no.

That’s all I can think as I follow my parents to the elevators and up to the opulent stretch of the Ritz’s top floor rooms. We’re having our picture taken in a suite. Of course we are.

Trish may not have picked up on it, but I knew as soon as we were taken out of the receiving line that we were being “handled.” And when Gale stepped in, right after my father wanted a private chat, my suspicions were all but confirmed.

They separated Trish from me under the guise of a family portrait.

Family.Ha.

“I’ll give you guys ten minutes, then I’m heading back down to Trish.”

“You worry too much,” Gale says, her steps never faltering. “She’s getting the royal treatment. Escort into the ballroom, her own selection of wine and hors d’oeuvre as she waits. She’sfine.”

Gale slides the key into the door, ushering us in. My mother inclines her head in thanks as she walks past. I have no idea if she knows about Gale and my father’s long-running affair.

When I first found out about my father and Gale, I’d been determined to let my mother know. But my fourteen-year-old self couldn’t find a way to bring up to his mother that he’d caught his father schlepping someone else in the house.

Now, years later, I’m not sure if my mother would even care.

Two people that I hadn’t noticed in the large room step forward from the bar area, a woman with a camera around her neck and a man holding reflective fabric disks.

“I was thinking of setting up here.” The photographer motions to the couch. “We’ll turn it so its back is to the balcony and the drapes frame the shot.”

“Fine, fine.” My father grabs a glass of scotch that Gale seemed to procure out of thin air. “But make sure the flags are there.”

“Already on it,” Gale says, clapping her hands. And like something out of a historical royal drama, two people emerge from one of the bedrooms, each struggling with large, heavy flagpoles, one with the Texas flag, the other carrying Old Glory. Meanwhile, the photographer and assistant start adjusting lights.

Two more people appear, one tucking tissues into the collar of my father’s shirt and dusting his face with powder while the other squats down to buff his shoes.

My mother sits perfectly straight on the edge of a dining room chair, her ever-vacant expression unmarred by time or disappointment.

Just another day in the circus that is my family.

I stare hard at Gale. “Ten minutes.”

* * *

My jaw feelslike it’s about to crack.

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