The President's Daughter - Mariah Stewart [79]
The rest of the afternoon was spent jotting down the congressman’s recollections and impressions of his father’s cabinet members, foreign dignitaries, and various crises, both foreign and domestic.
When Jen appeared in the doorway late in the afternoon to advise Gray of an important phone call, Simon took the hint and closed his notebook.
“Congressman, I can’t thank you enough for the time you’ve given me this afternoon.”
“Hey, it’s I who should be thanking you. Philip feels that this book will introduce a whole new generation to my father.”
“I’m doing my best.” Simon picked up his briefcase and moved toward the door.
“As my dad always said, no one can ask more than that.” Hayward followed Simon out into the hallway. “Now, we’ll be looking for an advance copy, you know.”
“Well, truthfully, I’m not sure when that will be available.”
“Oh.” Gray looked slightly disappointed. “I was hoping that the book could be out by the end of December, so that we’d have a shot at keeping the buzz going into the new year. Then just as it starts to die down—”
“Your candidacy will be announced.” Simon paused at the front door.
“That was the plan.”
“I’ll do my best.” Simon seriously doubted there would be a book by the end of the year but didn’t feel it was his place to discuss that with the congressman. If Norton had led him to believe the book would be available by then, he’d let Norton break the news.
“You’ll let me know if you need anything else, of course. From anyone.” Graham Hayward stood in the doorway and nearly filled it. “I’ll work on those questions you left for me and I’ll fax my responses to you as soon as I can.”
“That’s great. Thank you. Thanks for your time.”
Simon stood on the porch, adjusting his collar against the breeze. He’d been touched by the obvious pride and love that Gray Hayward had for his father and couldn’t help but wonder how those feelings might change once the congressman discovered that he had a half sister.
Pausing as he reached the bottom step, Simon stopped to consider, for the first time, whether perhaps Graham already knew.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Betsy Pierce had parked her wheelchair at the front window and hadn’t moved in over an hour. There was little traffic at this time of the day, and any car approaching from the east would have to crest that hill off to the right. Her eyes never left that point, despite the fact that it was only nine-thirty in the morning and Jude had said to expect them around eleven.
After having waited so long to see her niece again, Betsy would just have to wait a little longer.
She had barely been able to contain her joy when the call had come from Jude the night before. She’d finally told Dina everything, Jude had said, though it hadn’t gone particularly well.
Well, of course it didn’t go well! Betsy had wanted to shout. You wait for thirty years to tell someone that she is not who she thinks she is, and chances are things aren’t going to go well.
But Betsy had shared none of her inner thoughts with Jude, choosing instead to offer sympathy for the situation and assure her that yes, of course she’d love to see Dina.
Simon Keller’s name had not been mentioned.
It would appear, Betsy thought somewhat smugly as she focused on the black pickup truck that came over the hill, that her little gamble on Simon Keller had paid off quite nicely. He’d found Dina, and Dina was coming to Wild Springs, where she belonged. She was a Pierce and, as such, needed to know what would someday be hers. Betsy had no heir other than Dina and had long since made her will. She’d been hoping that Dina would discover her roots before such time as that will would be read. It would have been a hell of a way to find out who her real mother had been.
Betsy wondered if Simon had had as much success in figuring out what had really happened on that dark stretch of Connecticut Avenue so long ago.
But all in all, she’d realized a very large return for so small an investment.
“Miss Pierce?” Mrs. Brady stood in the doorway. “Can I bring you some breakfast