Charlotte Kramer: Madam President Part 34

"Madam President, is there anything in the speech that you don't believe to be true?"

"No."

"Then stop thinking about it. Stop worrying about it, and give that speech with swagger, or it will be a lose-lose. You'll p.i.s.s off the base, and the audience will sense your discomfort."

"Swagger, huh? I'll give it my best. How is everything else?"

"Your numbers on national security are strong. Leaders.h.i.+p numbers are at an all-time high."

"I didn't mean with my poll numbers. I meant with you. How are you doing?"

"Things have never been better, Madam President. Thanks for asking."

They'd hung up that night, and she had returned to the residence to review her speech. Peter had been watching a baseball game, and Brooke and Mark had been at the Kennedy Center. It felt like an eternity had pa.s.sed since then, but it had only been one year.

Now she smiled when she remembered their conversations, but for months, she couldn't read his name in the newspaper or listen to detailed accounts of his heroic actions on the day of the attacks without growing emotional. Everyone around a president is capable of giving the boss positive feedback after a solid showing, but Warren was one of a handful of people who never hesitated to provide blunt feedback about her subpar performances. She remembered the first time he'd critiqued her on the campaign trail. Charlotte had completed an interview with a local reporter in Cleveland. She thought it had gone well, and her campaign aides had smiled and told her she'd done a great job. When she got back onto Air Force One to fly to the next campaign rally, Warren had entered her cabin. He'd watched her sign thank-you notes to contributors for a couple of minutes before he said anything.

"That was pitiful."

"Excuse me?" She'd been stunned.

"You acted bored by the questions and annoyed that he asked to take a picture with you afterward. Do you even remember his name?"

"The reporter?"

"That wasn't a reporter. That was Miles Henry. Do you know Miles's claim to fame?"

Charlotte had placed her letters on the table and looked Warren directly in the eye. "You're about to tell me."

"Miles is the longest-serving news anchor in Ohio. He's turned down a dozen offers to move to larger markets. LeBron James tried to get him a job at the Miami affiliate when he moved there in 2010. Do you know what Miles did when he was offered a job in Miami?"

"You're going to tell me that, too."

"You bet I am. As a favor to his friend LeBron, Miles agreed to fly out to Miami Beach for the weekend. He brought his wife and daughter with him. They stayed at the Lowe's Hotel on Miami Beach and shopped and ate in the restaurants on Lincoln Road. They took pictures in front of the house where Versace was killed and lay by the pool until they were sunburned. At the end of the weekend, Miles called LeBron and thanked him for the opportunity, and then he called the station manager and told him that Cleveland was the only place he'd ever wanted to work. Madam President, there wasn't anything more important on your schedule today than making Miles believe that you cared about him and that you cared about Cleveland. And in my humble opinion, you f.u.c.ked it up royally."

"Your opinions are a lot of things, but I wouldn't call them humble," she'd retorted.

"I'm not one of your staffers. I get paid by the hour, Madam President, and it isn't worth the ridiculous amount you're paying if I suck up to you and tell you how inspired each of your performances is. That, in my humble opinion, would be a waste of your money and my time."

Charlotte had pushed the stack of thank-you notes in his direction. "To be fair, it's their money that's paying your exorbitant rate," she'd said.

"Even those a.s.sholes deserve more than a candidate who is simply going through the motions," he'd said.

"What exactly do you suggest I do, campaign Svengali?"

Warren had smiled. "About the interview?"

"Yes, about the interview."

"Well, the interview really isn't the problem. It's a symptom of a larger illness."

"I see."

"There's nothing you can do about the interview except have the press office call them and tell the station that you'll be back next week and you'd like to finish the conversation you started today."

"Are we going to be back next week?"

"I'll add it to the schedule."

"You do have an answer for everything. And what about my illness?"

"Your Svengali would suggest a few more focus groups and some fine-tuning of your campaign message and maybe a few million dollars' worth of new ads. You could even throw in a staff shake-up for good measure and put your old pals Brooke and Mark on the campaign bus to lighten the mood. As your friend, and as someone who is deeply interested in seeing this country remain in your able hands, I would suggest that you get out of your head, get over yourself, and stop worrying about what's going to happen on Election Day. These things have a way of working themselves out if you trust the universe."

At that point, Charlotte had laughed. "I'm really glad that you didn't suggest I trust the universe in your capacity as my campaign Svengali. I would have fired you."

Warren had been her peer and a trusted counselor, but she'd also felt a maternal sense of pride in all that he'd accomplished. She missed his optimism, his humor, and his insights. Most of all, she hated knowing that all of his potential and all of his formidable talent had been cut short by the cruelty of fate.

The boy Warren had saved that day was traveling to the White House from his home outside Philadelphia for the ceremony, and Warren's parents would also be there. The Carmichaels had visited the White House half a dozen times since their first visit the day after the attack. They had created a victims' support network, a national network of charities and mental health professionals that worked primarily to support the children of those killed in the attacks. The twins had also founded a charity to raise scholars.h.i.+p money to pay for college tuition for the victims' children. Brooke and Mark were the cochairs, and Peter had recruited several of the professional athletes he represented to serve on the charity's board. Charlotte would announce at the ceremony that they'd raised more than five million dollars.

But before that, she had to film the first of three short interviews with Lucy and Richard. They were waiting for her in the Oval Office and would travel on Air Force One to cover the events marking the one-year anniversary of the attacks. Their "Day in the Life" special from the year before had won an Emmy and cemented their status as the anchors to beat. Lucy had become an unlikely ally. Charlotte had called her several weeks after the attacks and asked her to reach out to Dale, who was dangerously thin and sleeping on the couch in her office instead of going home most nights. Charlotte couldn't exactly turn to Craig and ask him to look after Dale, and Melanie was too judgmental to become Dale's confidante, so Charlotte had asked Lucy to help. Lucy reported back to Charlotte after their regular dinners, and Charlotte was immensely pleased that they'd developed a real friends.h.i.+p.

Now Sam handed Charlotte a cup of coffee, which she sipped while the technician attached a microphone to her lapel. Sam took the battery pack from the sound tech and attached it to the president's skirt.

"When you're ready, we'll give them the heads-up that you're coming in."

Dale had informed her the day before that Lucy would ask her if there was a particular story or memory about Warren that she liked to think about when she thought of his contributions to her administration. Charlotte had decided to share a slightly edited version of the story from the campaign plane, when Warren had told her she'd done a terrible job with the Cleveland reporter. It encapsulated all of the things she'd loved about him as an advisor, and it made clear that he was brave enough to tell her the truth even if it meant that he risked losing his political clout by offending her with an unflattering review. From Charlotte's perspective, his honesty had had the opposite effect. From that trip on, Warren's political influence was unrivaled.

Charlotte stood a little straighter and put her coffee cup down on Sam's desk. "I'm ready," she said.

One of her agents pushed open the door to the Oval Office, and Lucy and Richard stood to greet her. Dale and Monty quickly moved to the side of the room to stay out of the camera shot. Charlotte spent the first couple of minutes discussing the ceremonies that would take place over the next two days.

"Madam President, I know that your focus is on the victims and their families today, but I wonder if you can talk about the impact or the toll that this monumental tragedy has had on you personally."

"You're right, Lucy. Today is about the victims and their loved ones, and there's nothing that has made me feel more powerless in my time as president than to stand with a child who has lost her mom or dad or to comfort parents who lost a child or grandparents who lost children and grandchildren. I can't do anything for them in terms of easing their pain, because I can't bring their loved ones back. But I have promised all of them that their loss will always be a part of me. I've spent enough time with the victims' families to understand the character and strength of these individuals."

"Madam President, a lot of people were surprised by your capacity to be so public in your grief. Was some of that ability to mourn with the families and understand what they were going through because you lost someone important to you on that day? For any of our viewers who don't recall, a member of your White House family - a very close advisor, Warren Carmichael - died in the attacks on the Mall here in D.C."

"Thanks for the question, Lucy. We miss Warren so much. There are no words to describe how important he was as an advisor and a friend to me and to everyone here. But every single person who lost someone that day - and even people who didn't know anyone who was killed or hurt in the attacks - endured something truly shocking and terrifying. If people feel that I did a respectable job tapping into the emotions that others felt, then I think Warren would have been the first to say that's not a bad outcome."

"Madam President, your staff is giving us a sign to wrap things up. I know we'll speak again later today, but is there anything else you want to say before the event gets under way?"

"It's important to remember the families after today's ceremonies and tributes are over. For them, the pain never ends. We can all learn so much from their examples. The true character of this country is not that we avoid tragedy. It's that we find our way back. Today I plan to honor the resilience, strength, and grace of all the family members and friends of the victims, including the Carmichaels, who will be here today."

"Madam President, before we go, I want to ask you one final question. The attacks of July 31 and your administration's response to them will always be viewed as the most historic aspect of your presidency, but I wonder if you ever do any thinking, now that you're just eighteen months away from the end of your presidency and a return to life as an ordinary citizen, about the rest of your legacy?"

"I can't say that I do, Lucy," Charlotte demurred. She worried for an instant that perhaps Lucy knew about the house she'd just allowed Brooke and Mark to buy for her in their Atherton neighborhood.

"Thank you, Madam President. Until we speak again in a few hours," Richard concluded.

Charlotte waited until the cameramen moved away from their positions, and then she allowed Monty to remove the microphone from her jacket. She slid the battery pack off her skirt and handed it to him.

"Nice job," he murmured.

Charlotte smiled at Monty and Dale. "Thanks, everyone."

Charlotte left the Oval Office and walked down to Melanie's office. She sat down across from her.

"Do you ever think about what happens after this?"

"After today? I'm going to sleep for more than thirty minutes at a time."

"Not just today."

"What? Your second term?"

"Yes."

"Your presidency is farther from being over than two pregnancies."

"You have a way with words, Melanie."

"What's really going on, Madam President?"

"Lucy asked me if I ever thought about my legacy, and I hadn't thought about it much before the attacks, because I was just regaining my momentum after Tara, and I obviously haven't had time to think about it since, but I wonder if we should be doing more, you know. So that we have a handle on the things that I can work on when this is all over."

Melanie leaned back in her chair and looked at the president carefully. Charlotte could tell that she was trying to figure out if she was fis.h.i.+ng for rea.s.surance about the hugely important day ahead or if she actually wanted to initiate a conversation about her legacy fifteen minutes before the helicopter arrived to usher them to Air Force One for the two-day trip.

"Madam President, I've done a lot of thinking about your legacy, and I think it's something we should start talking about regularly, once we get through today."

Charlotte felt so completely understood and supported by Melanie that she had to fight an unexpected wave of emotion. She stared at the carpet for a few seconds and then met Melanie's gaze.

"That sounds like a very good plan."

The sound of Marine One landing on the South Lawn interrupted them.

"I'll meet you in the Oval in five minutes. I need to check on the baby before I leave," Melanie said.

Charlotte walked slowly back to the Oval Office and stood alone, waiting for Monty to summon her. Usually, the senior staff gathered in the Oval Office before their departure so they could all walk out together, but today there was only s.p.a.ce for Melanie and Monty to ride with her on Marine One because Penny and Harry were accompanying her. Once Melanie arrived, Monty gave them the signal that it was time to go.

"Good luck, Madam President," Sam said.

Charlotte smiled and walked with Melanie to the East Wing, where Penny and Harry were waiting for her. She put an arm around Penny and walked out with the twins to the helicopter. Melanie and Monty waited for them to board before they walked out so that they would avoid being in the camera shot.

As Marine One lifted off the South Lawn, Charlotte watched the reporters and visitors grow smaller and the Was.h.i.+ngton Monument closer. As they flew the short distance to Andrews Air Force Base, Charlotte thought about everyone who would be with her over the next two days. Brooke and Mark would be waiting for her on Air Force One. Dale would be there, too. She'd accompanied Lucy and Richard to the airport as soon as the interview had ended. The Carmichaels would also be on board.

Charlotte leaned back and watched Harry huddle close to listen to something Monty was saying. Next to them, Melanie was examining the line-by-line schedule for the day. Penny was sitting across from her, and their chairs were close enough that their knees touched.

"What are you thinking about?" Penny asked.

"I was thinking that I'm happy that you and your brother are coming with me."

"And?"

"Why does there have to be an and?"

"Because you had that look that usually means that you're either about to cry or say something overly sentimental."

"I'm going to try very hard not to cry, but it's going to get harder as the day goes on. And if it would be sentimental to tell you that I'm proud of you and happy that we've spent so much quality time together this year, then yes, I'm going to be overly sentimental today. Don't tell anyone, please."

Penny did a half smile, half eye-roll. "Warren sounds awesome. I'm sorry I didn't know Warren."

"Me, too. You would have liked him a lot."

"I want to hear more about him."

"You will. We'll be with the Carmichaels. They tell some really funny stories about him when he was in high school."

"I want to hear your stories."

"My stories?"

"You should write a book."

"About what?"

"Being the first woman to be president, the attacks, getting separated from Dad, having twins in high school and college while you're president. You should write about how you juggled all of us."

Charlotte tried to hide her surprise. She stared out the window and swallowed hard to get rid of the lump that had formed in her throat. "Why don't we write it together? You could include your perspective, too. That would be more interesting," she suggested.

"Or I could interview you." Penny sounded excited.

As Marine One landed at Andrews, Charlotte gave Penny's hand a squeeze. Her heart was heavy for the sad occasion that had brought them all together, but she found immense comfort in the company of her twins. When she stepped off of Marine One, Harry held out his arm, which she accepted. He felt so st.u.r.dy, more like a man than a boy. He was nineteen, and would be twenty in a few weeks. They were starting their junior years in college. Charlotte slipped her other arm through Penny's, and the three of them walked arm-in-arm to the stairs leading up to Air Force One. The kids stopped and let her walk up alone so that the press could film her, but before she did, she turned back to look at them. She wanted to remember this day forever. Charlotte couldn't remember a single day before it when they'd felt like more of a family.

Acknowledgments.

It was the privilege of my lifetime to work in the White House on September 11, 2001. The thousands of acts of humanity that I witnessed in the days and months that followed inspired much of the emotion of this purely fictional tale. Obviously, to imagine how a fictional president might act, I was inspired and informed by the heart of the man for whom I worked, President George W. Bush. He wrote in his book Decision Points about how the country would move on but he would never forget. I'm grateful that I had the opportunity to work for him and to know him and to understand a little bit of what it was like for him on that day.

So many people helped me remember not just the emotions, but the logistics of a day like the one detailed in Madam President. Thank you to my former White House colleagues who helped me tell those parts of the story. Geoff Morrell has my grat.i.tude for his insights and for his early support of a female SECDEF. I am also grateful to my friends in the White House press corps who read drafts of this novel in its earliest stages and helped me imagine how a day like this would be experienced as a journalist.

During the most intense writing phase, my regular appearances on Morning Joe were my only human interactions outside of my immediate family. Joe Scarborough, Mika Brzezinski, Willie Geist, Mike Barnicle, Donny Deutsch, Mark Halperin, and Jon Meacham provided encouragement and good cheer. Dana Bash, Mark Leibovich, Bianna Golodryga, and Wendy b.u.t.ton provided much needed "straight talk" about early chapters. Dana Perino, Ari Fleischer, Claire Buchan Parker, Chris Edwards, and Reed d.i.c.kens helped me remember the White House as it actually was. Heather Karpas and Kristyn Keene at ICM were some of the earliest and best editors of the ma.n.u.script and I will always be thankful. Henley Old has been by my side through the process of writing all three novels and there wouldn't be a series without her. My mom read every version and always gave me honest and constructive criticism. My agent, Sloan Harris, was the first person to believe that there was an entire book to be written about a single day. I'm the luckiest writer on the planet to have an advocate and a partner like Sloan. Emily Bestler is the most nurturing editor that anyone could ever dream of working with. She made the story better and clearer and truer in every way imaginable. I'm extremely fortunate to work with the team at Emily Bestler Books. Megan Reid, Matthew Rossiter, and Lisa Sciambra are simply the best of the very best.

I'm so blessed to have a husband who supports and cherishes and cheers for the side of me that disappears into my characters and their travails for months on end. I love you. And to Liam, I love you to the moon and back.