Lethal Trajectories - Michael Conley [189]
“Well, Jackson,” said the president with a light heart, “I’m really looking forward to this vacation. How about you?”
“I can’t wait. I’ll be visiting some old friends and haunts in Palo Alto while you, Mags, and the kids visit her mom. The Stanford Business School has even asked me to say a few words to a general audience, and I’ve agreed to do so. Oh, by the way, good news: Wang Peng called right before we left and said he’d be able to join us at Simon Devitney’s place in Carmel.”
“That’s great. Mags can use the vacation from me, and it’ll be great to get together without a world crisis as an agenda. Will Simon be able to join us? I haven’t seen him since I became president.”
“He’ll be there for one night, but you know Simon. He hasn’t changed since his Stanford days, and he’ll be flying off to Tokyo for some business deal the day after we get there. He told us to leave his house in good shape when we leave.” They both laughed, and the reminder sparked a few stories of Simon’s college antics.
Just then, Melissa and Amy came running out of the bedroom. “Daddy, Daddy!” they shouted, “Can we go back and say hello to the soldiers? Mom’s taking a nap but said it’s okay with her if it’s okay with you. Can we, Daddy?”
“I think that would be just fine, girls, but don’t forget our rule about addressing each person as mister or ma’am before talking to them. Can you remember that?”
“Yes, Daddy,” they said. They each gave him a kiss and then ran out the door.
“They’re great kids, Clayton, and I’m proud to be their uncle,” Jack said as he moved toward the refrigerator for a cold beer. He handed one to Clayton, and they sat back to enjoy a relaxing flight.
“Looking at you and the girls, I’m reminded of the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question in Washington these days: will Clayton McCarty seek a second term in office? Do you still feel the same way about it, Clayton, even though you’re enjoying a record high rating?”
“Nothing’s changed, Jack. I still feel the same. I’m in this for one term only. When you shoot for two terms, you tend to play it safer in the first term so as to not offend certain constituencies or party leaders. I’m an Independent, so I don’t need to placate either party. But I’d have to do it if I were to run for a second term, and I’m not interested in that game.”
“That’s about what I thought you’d say. I’m getting dozens of requests for you to speak on behalf of candidates for the midterm elections. Are you prepared to free up a little time for that?”
“Not much, Jack. I’d like to stay above it and just concentrate on my job. If there’s someone who’s really special—particularly an Independent candidate—I’d consider helping out. I would’ve campaigned against Tom Collingsworth, but I see he was beaten in the Republican primary in his state. Good riddance, I might add.”
Just then Air Force One hit a pocket of turbulence and the “fasten seat belt” sign went on. Clayton brushed pretzel particles off his lap, and they continued their talk.
“It’s interesting,” Jack observed, “how the congressional delegates from both parties are currying your support, given your popularity rating. It sure works in our favor.”
“It does, and it prevents either party from ganging up on us. I’m going to remain quiet about not running again because I don’t want them to think and act like I’m a lame duck. But no, I’m not going to seek reelection.”
Just then, the girls barged through the door again, Melissa shouting, “Daddy, look! One of the soldiers gave me a candy bar. Can we eat it before dinner?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe you better go ask the boss. If it’s okay with Mom, it’s okay with me.