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The Waynes weren’t reluctant to share their views of Washington, and neither was Mat. Over the Dole fruit cocktail cake, she discovered that he was a political junkie who was very much disillusioned with the country’s elected officials.
By the time darkness settled over the campsite, she knew the Waynes were staunch patriots, but not blind ones. They rebelled at the idea of giving handouts to everyone who asked, but were more than willing to share all they had with those who were truly in need. They wanted the federal government to stay out of their private lives, but at the same time find a way to put an end to drug traffic and violence. They worried about having enough health insurance and expected Social Security to work for them, but didn’t want their children paying the economic price for it. Although Mat didn’t agree with them about everything, they found common ground in their opinions of politicians as ineffective, blindly partisan, self-serving, and willing to sell out the country to protect their own interests.
That view always depressed Nealy, even though she was used to it. She knew elected officials who fit the description, but she knew many who didn’t. And couples like the Waynes were America’s bedrock. Was a nation of cynics the best that more than two hundred years of democratic government could produce?
Still, Washington had reaped what it had sown, and she and Dennis had shared dozens of conversations over the years about this very issue. Although Dennis thought she was naive for someone who’d breathed the air of politics since birth, she believed the country was ready for a new species of politician. Sometimes she found herself daydreaming about running for office herself. The first rule she’d follow would be honesty, and if that made her a pariah inside the Beltway, she’d take her cause straight to the people.
Mat moved a knife out of Button’s reach. “You’ve been awfully quiet, Nell. For someone who has opinions about everything, I’m surprised you don’t have any thoughts about politics.”
Oh, she had a million of them, and she’d been biting her tongue ever since the discussion began. Still, she couldn’t resist making one comment. “I do believe a political life can be an honorable one.”
Charlie and Bertis shook their heads, and Mat gave a cynical laugh. “Maybe fifty years ago, but not now.”
Words sprang to her lips, dozens of them. Thousands! An entire speech on patriotism and public duty, complete with quotations from Lincoln, Jefferson, and FDR. Politics could be an honorable profession, and once again the urge to prove that nagged at her.
“Even now,” she said. “We just need a few more courageous politicians.”
They regarded her skeptically, and she had to clamp her mouth shut to keep from saying more.
Everyone pitched in to help with the cleanup, except Button, who was growing cranky from being kept up too late. Nealy had just begun to excuse herself to put the baby to bed when Lucy came out of the Waynes’
motor home. “They have a television,” she reported loftily.
“We like to keep up with the news shows,” Charlie said. “Dateline’s on tonight.”
“We don’t have a television.”
“And you won’t die from it, young lady.” Bertis gave Lucy a hug. “You read a nice book tonight. Something educational.”
“Mat, can I borrow one of your Playboys?”
“You’re such a dickens, Lucy.” Bertis regarded the teenager fondly. “Our Megan would love you.”
Lucy gave a long-suffering sigh but made no effort to disengage herself from Bertis’s grandmotherly arms.
“Now, remember, Nell, you’re going to send over Button’s romper so I can mend the seam while we’re watching Dateline.”
When Button had torn her outfit, Nealy’d had no idea Bertis would volunteer to fix it, and she was embarrassed. “You don’t have to do that. Really.”
“You’ll be doing me a favor. If I don’t keep my hands busy, I snack.”
Nealy thanked her, then she and Lucy returned to the motor home with the baby. As she went inside, she thought how nice it was to receive a favor from someone who didn’t have a single thing to gain by it.
The baby was dirty from crawling in the grass around the picnic table, something Nealy had tried desperately to prevent, only to have everyone else act as if she were being unreasonably overprotective. Since Charlie had asked Mat to help him with an awning bracket, it was up to Nealy and Lucy to coax the cranky baby through a quick bath in the sink. She was sobbing from fatigue by the time she was dressed in a clean pair of pajamas, and she refused to let Nealy comfort her.
Lucy took her in the back to give her a bottle. As the teenager slid the door shut, Nealy felt vaguely melancholy. She wasn’t exactly jealous, but it hurt to know the baby so clearly preferred everyone else to her. Button probably sensed there was something wrong with her.
The Angel of Baby Death . . . She shook off the terrible image.
The door swung open, and she whirled around. Mat stepped in, looking even larger than normal and more gorgeous. Her mouth felt dry. She turned away and spotted Button’s torn romper. “Would you mind taking this over to Bertis? I forgot.” She thrust it toward him.
“No problem.” He sounded unusually cheerful for someone who could be the world’s biggest curmudgeon. “No problem at all.” He smiled as he reached out to take the romper and his hand brushed hers. “Be back in a few minutes.”
He was deliberately torturing her. And what was the point? He might think they were going to make love with two children only a few feet away, but she knew differently. Frustrated, she made her way to the bathroom and stripped off her clothes.
As the water poured over her, she remembered the way those big hands had cupped her breasts. She’d loved every moment of his urgent, single-minded seduction. It had felt so good to be desired.
She reminded herself that they barely knew each other. They had no common interests, no shared background. But then she’d had those things with Dennis and look what it had brought her.
