The First Gardener (8 page)

“Baby-making time?” Gray bent down to kiss her.

She ran her hand down the side of his head, his hair soft beneath her fingers. She loved the way he wore it—short, neat, with just a hint of distinguished gray at the temples. “You only have a few minutes.”

He looked at her and smiled. “You’ve been checking my schedule?”

She crinkled her nose. “Yeah.”

He took her hand and led her across the yellow-and-blue Tennessee seal rug that virtually filled his entire office. He opened the door to the quaint study off his main office and let her go inside, pressing his hand against the small of her back to guide her. This was where he read his briefs, made his phone calls, and—sometimes—made love to his wife.

He closed the door behind them. Mackenzie was already facing him, reaching for his tie. “We only have about twenty minutes. I know you don’t need all of—”

He pulled her hands from his tie and pushed her back slightly.

She giggled. “But you can take
all
twenty minutes if you want to.”

He reached up and slid her jacket from her shoulders. “Thank you. I think I will.”

“Wonder what your constituents would think if they—”

He kissed the side of her neck, his words brushing against her ear. “I’d prefer not to think about my constituents right now, if you don’t mind.”

Mackenzie laughed again. She didn’t mind one little bit.

Mackenzie wrapped the tie back around Gray’s neck. She knew him so well. She remembered those early days of dating when she began to learn his history and then his quirks. And, Lord have mercy, he did have his quirks.

The one that always got her the most tickled was how the covers on their bed had to be just so at night. The top sheet had to be neatly folded over the coverlet before he could actually go to sleep. But she liked her covers stuck up underneath her chin. After their first year of marriage, he had finally given up on her side.

He also had to sleep with a box fan in the room, turned on him just so. Every night before he climbed in, he would situate it precisely so it would blow on his face. Before she married him, Mackenzie had never liked noise at night. She wanted it completely quiet and totally dark. But now she had gotten used to the sound of the fan.

Oh, and he didn’t like to be touched when he was ready to go to sleep. He wanted Mackenzie on her side and he on his. But that was where she drew the line. She couldn’t help it. If it was with nothing more than her big toe, she was going to touch him. And he either had gotten used to that or was just tired of complaining about it.

Thinking about each of his quirks made her smile.

“Thank you, baby,” she whispered as he buttoned the final button of his shirt.

He leaned down and kissed her softly on her lips. “Mack, you don’t ever have to thank me for making love to you.”

“I know. Just thank you for always making me welcome.” She finished knotting his tie and pushed it up closer to his neck. She knew Sarah was well aware of what was happening, but she still didn’t want it to be too obvious.

“You are always welcome.”

She leaned her head against his chest. “I love you, Gray London.”

“I love you too, babe.”

“Let’s pray this worked.”

His lips moved against her forehead. “Even if it doesn’t, I like it when you visit me like this.”

She leaned her head back, laughing. “You like this wild woman, huh?”

“Love it.”

She moved toward the door and turned the gold doorknob. “I’ll see you at home.”

“Call me when you pick up Maddie,” he said. “I can’t wait to hear how her day went.”

“How ’bout if I have her call you.”

He was slipping his feet into his shoes. “That’d be perfect. Love you, Mack.”

“Love you too.” She turned back toward him, then grinned. “Oh, hey—your zipper.”

“What?” He reached down and felt his exposure. “That wouldn’t give anything away, would it?”

“Might give away more than you intended.” She laughed.

He zipped his slacks as she walked across his office and out the door. She prayed silently that this one was it. That this afternoon encounter would result in the baby boy they both desired and they both deserved.

Chapter 7

Gray struggled to get his mind back on work. It was difficult because Mack’s visit had taken over all of his senses and co-opted his thoughts.

The truth was this whole baby-making process left him badly torn.

He certainly didn’t mind the afternoon trysts with his wife. And it was true that he wanted another child—especially a boy. He wouldn’t trade Maddie for the world, but there were still days when his heart ached for a son. He wanted so much of what a father and son could share, what he and his own dad had shared.

Yet Mack’s body wouldn’t cooperate. And the reality of another round of fertility treatments was beginning to wear on him. He was tired of the mood swings the medication caused in Mack, tired of having to order his entire love life around thermometers and calendars, tired of worrying about the whole thing. It wasn’t like he didn’t have anything else on his plate. He was the governor of Tennessee, for goodness’ sake!

Of course he could never tell Mackenzie any of this. She had her heart set on another baby, and she had suffered so much trying to have children. They both had. The last thing he wanted was to pressure her.

He sighed. No point in worrying about what he couldn’t control. Better to focus on what was. Mack. Maddie. And his work, which was—

The chirping phone interrupted his thoughts. “Yes?”

Sarah was on the other end. “Gray, I’ve got Green Hills Nursing Center on line two.”

His sigh was heavy. For a moment he’d forgotten about that particular worry.

“Thanks.” He pushed the button. “This is Gray London.”

“Governor, this is Harriet Purvis.” Harriet was the nurse who oversaw his father’s care at the Alzheimer’s unit in the Green Hills nursing facility. There was almost no chance that she was calling with good news.

“Your father had him a bad spell today. He’s been yelling at some of the other patients, calling them some names I’d rather not repeat—you know, like he would have called the North Koreans. And then, well . . .”

She paused, and Gray steeled himself. “Go ahead, tell me. Is he dropping his pants again?”

Silence on the phone. Then, “We found him in bed with another patient. A female patient. And he put up quite a fight when we tried to move him. Said she was his . . . war bride. We barely got him out of the room before the poor woman’s husband showed up.”

The laugh almost slipped out before Gray could stifle it. He knew the situation wasn’t funny. But sometimes, well, you just had to laugh. Like the time when Dad was still living at the governor’s mansion, escaped his nurses, and mooned an entire busload of tourists. . . .

“Governor, I have to tell you, we’re getting complaints. He seems increasingly agitated, and the doctor is wanting to change some of his meds.”

The laughter subsided. He knew what she was saying. “What do you think, Harriet? You know I trust you.” And he did. The last five years of overseeing his father’s care through his slow decline, even before they put him in the nursing home, had earned her that confidence.

“I think it’s time to up the meds.”

Gray sighed. “Okay, I’ll talk to the doc about it. And I’ll come by tonight to see Dad.”

“He’d like that.”

He hung up the phone and took the back exit out of his office. He wasn’t exactly embarrassed by his tryst with Mack, but he’d just as soon not look Sarah in the eye before he left for his meeting with the Joint Select Committee on Education Oversight.

The meeting room was bustling with activity when Gray arrived. The high-backed tan leather chairs sat at attention around the mahogany tables as if aware that what went on within these four walls was important. Democrats and Republicans from both houses were there, along with three members of the Tennessee Education Association. The Speaker of the house was in one corner talking to Fletcher while Kurt poured what Gray was sure was his tenth cup of coffee. Assistants buzzed around the walls like bees waiting to swarm. The committee members offered their hellos and took their seats around the table when Gray entered.

Gray tried hard to be a leader who led by example. He didn’t ask his staff to do anything that he wasn’t willing to do himself. When he asked them to cut their budgets, he cut his. When he asked them to stay late, he stayed late too. When he asked them tough questions, they could be assured he had already asked those questions of himself. That style of leadership had gradually earned him a level of respect from both parties. Respect was what had them here today, in a month when the General Assembly wasn’t usually in session.

The economy had plagued him since his arrival. Every item on the state budget, from schools to highways, seemed to be hemorrhaging money, and Gray had been forced to get drastic in his measures—such as the controversial release of nonviolent prisoners—to stop the flow. More still had to be done—and done now. Despite small signs that the economy was improving, a government shutdown was still a possibility. Schools were also having to tighten the belt strap—the reason for this week’s emergency session.

Gray had to give the committee members credit when it came to the reform bill that was coming up for a special vote on Wednesday. They had all worked diligently to avoid hindering teachers’ ability to actually teach. But it had taken months to get everyone here and remotely happy.

“Mr. Governor,” Speaker Norm Johnson began, his white hair a measure of his tenure and his Southern drawl a measure of his roots, “there are some teachers who are furious about this here legislation.”

Gray shook his head. He had read each of the hundreds of letters he had received about the bill—pro, con, and in between.

“Plenty of ’em love it as well.” Ted Lamont, the house majority leader, tugged at the back of his toupee as he spoke, a nervous habit that indicated he didn’t like the way a conversation was headed.

The three TEA members sat across from him, taking in the beginning dialogue without offering any words of their own. They had submitted their thoughts in writing months ago, and today was more about formalities. It was a final consensus meeting before the bill came up for a vote in the General Assembly.

Speaker Johnson continued. “We do believe, however, that this is the best thing for our state.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Gray acknowledged.

“And I’m proud to say we have enough house votes to pass it.”

Gray sat back in his chair. “Marcus, what about the senate?”

“We’re good, Governor.” Marcus Newman’s polished voice matched his twelve-hundred-dollar suit. One of the new faces at the capitol, Newman came from a long line of Memphis legislators. He was clearly an ambitious man, and being assigned to this committee showed he was moving ahead fast, but so far he had operated as a team player. “Both sides agree that something has to be done, and we believe both sides have been fairly represented.”

The crisis in education had left them little choice. With the cutbacks about to hit the schools, Gray had to offer the public something to make them see public education was worth investing in. So they had changed the graduation standards as well as the teacher evaluation guidelines. Both teachers and students were getting extra scrutiny in hopes of giving the public a school system they’d be willing to send their kids to. He had made his own contribution when he took Maddie to school this morning.

Gray’s chair swiveled beneath him as he placed his arms on the table. “So we’re saying all the bantering is over?”

“We’ll vote tomorrow in our special committee meeting. It will have to be by proxy, of course. There’s a limit to how many folks we can get back in town this time of year, even with the special circumstances of this budget.” Speaker Johnson coughed and then reached for his water. He had been the Speaker for the past twelve years and a senator for thirty. Gray believed it was time for him to go, but he figured the man would die with his gavel in his hand—or die beating his opponent over the head with it. Either way, Johnson wouldn’t be letting go of the gavel as long as he had any fight left in him.