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“I’m not responsible for California voters.” I held up one hand, suddenly feeling incredibly desperate and defensive. Neither were feelings I expected to have that evening. “That was on them.”
“He was a good man, and the article ruined his life.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” I glanced around, as if I might find an exit strategy somewhere in the crowd.I need to get out of here.
“The article you wrote contained the first allegations about misconduct, the first whisper of sexual assaults. And they were all untrue, but it was already too late, wasn’t it?”
I gulped. She wasn’t wrong. I was hasty with that article, and sloppy, but it had also been much earlier in my career, when I was still at theTimesand hungry for anything that would further my standing there, anything that would make me seem like I belonged at a news outlet of that size, and anything that would get me off the daily grind. The Ortega story was an embarrassment, one I was still sad I had no real way to rectify.
In fact, my regrets over it sparked my desire to handle things better once I began my own publication. I had learned so much since then, but how could I tell someone like her that? She’d clearly made up her mind about my character.
And I probably deserve her dislike.
“I’m going to be fair,” I said. “I promise.”
“I know I sound harsh,” she admitted. “Mean, even. But I’m protective of Landon.”
I thought about what he’d told me that afternoon, about the moment he said she knew she wanted to adopt him. “That’s understandable.”
“Is it?” Her next words were in a low but firm voice. “I’m not sure you’re the most objective writer he could have found.”
“I want the newsletter to have high value for readers.” I faltered, trying hard to find the words to say next. “I mean that.”
“Be careful with my son.” She glanced in his direction. He was still near the band, talking with a few people who seemed eager to catch his attention. “He’s more than people think he is, and he deserves better than most people give him.”
“Is that so?”
“Adopting Landon was the best decision I ever made.”
“I’d love to hear more about that. I mean...more than what I’ve read.”
She turned her attention back to me. “I was alone, you know. Single. He came into my life after I decided to be a child advocate for the court system. He was only seven.”
“I read he was young. Very young.”
“You read it; I lived it.” She waved a hand, as if moving away whatever bad memories came with talking about his past. “Landon was different. He needed someone to love him, and that someone was me. Now he’s...people don’t understand visionaries like him.”
“I’m trying to.”
She arched her eyebrow. “I’m sure you are. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some other guests to welcome this evening.”
Landon’s mother walked away, and I watched her for a long time. This evening wasn’t going as I expected.
