Balance of Power

    "We'd need an identifiable enemy to redirect the focus. An interview might work if we had enough evidence to blame the SSA. But without proof we'd only be making the SSA look like the victim of two maudlin demagogues slandering American patriots—in this case, to cover their own immorality." He turned to Kerry. "Then consider the Senate. You know how hard this fight over guns has been on swing-state Democrats. For the people who've stuck with you against their better judgment, it may not be enough to criticize your morals. They may feel the need to override your veto."

    "And so?"

    "A lot of people hate the media. They won't like whoever puts this out. Once they do, we answer with a brief and dignified statement, then hope the story starves for lack of oxygen."

    "They won't let it die," Kit demurred. "The right wing or the media."

    "Then let them wallow in their own shit until the American people turn away in boredom and disgust. What else is there to do once the President acknowledges the truth, and regrets the environment in which such a private matter is fodder for the press." Facing the Kilcannons, Clayton spoke softly. "I'm truly sorry for what you'll have to go through. I know it's easier for us to tell you what to do than for you to do it. But Lara is one of the most admired First Ladies in recent history, and you're both objects of great sympathy. You'll receive more sympathy for handling this with grace, and for drawing the line." Clayton paused, eyes glinting. "I think this story will damn whoever touches it. If I were President, I'd consider leaking the story to Fasano, then blaming him when it comes out."

    "There's a certain appeal in that," Kerry answered with the flicker of a smile. "But when does it ever end?"

    Clayton shrugged. "I suppose," Kit ventured gamely, "that the announcement of a pregnancy is way too much to hope for."

    No one answered. Kit hesitated, and then faced Kerry again. "There's one more option," she said bluntly, "and someone has to raise it.

    "I agree with Clayton: guns are a hard issue, even with all that's happened. Gun immunity's an even harder issue, especially when it's mixed with tort reform—a lot of people don't like lawsuits, and Democrats pay the price." Pausing, Kit appeared to steel herself once more. "As of now, you've got a single vote in the Senate standing between you and a veto override. We need to ask: is this the issue, and the time, that we want to risk a scandal in exchange for a 'victory' against tort reform that a lot of Democratic senators never wanted in the first place?"

    "In other words," Kerry said, "give in to blackmail for the good of the party. Not to mention my own."

    "I understand, Mr. President," Kit responded evenly. "But you are President, with a responsibility to look beyond your own feelings, to facts. The facts are different than they were this morning."

    The room fell silent. Taking Lara's hand, Kerry asked her, "Do we have anything else to add?"

    His wife gazed at him, weary but unwavering. "Only that if you decide to give in to blackmail, there'll be

no end to this."

    The President turned to Kit and Clayton. "Thank you," he said. "We'll let you know what we decide."

FIVE

After a few hours of fitful sleep, Lara called her sister.

    It was five-thirty in San Francisco. "What's wrong?" Mary asked in a voice slurry with sleepiness and anxiety.

    With as much dispassion as she could muster, Lara told her.

    Finishing, she awaited a response. "You had an abortion?" Mary said in obvious wonder. "I didn't know."

    To Lara, this statement of perplexity carried the faintest hint of being slighted—that, as always, Lara had held herself aloof, as the distant, superior sister who offered help, or direction, but needed nothing from her family. "No one knew," she answered. "This wasn't just about me, but about Kerry. I couldn't tell anyone."

    "Except a stranger," Mary gently amended.

    This allusion to the abortion counselor who had betrayed her reopened the wound anew, threatening Lara's precarious calm. "Mary," she said in a strained voice, "my world was coming apart. I'd fallen in love with a married senator I was covering as a reporter, and suddenly I was pregnant. I did what I thought was best—for Kerry even more than me. But I was sure it was the end for us, and had to be. That was why I took the NBC job overseas. If I'd thought that you, or anyone, could fix all that . . ."

    Her voice trailed off in a memory of hopelessness. "You could have come to us," Mary insisted. "We were your family."