We managed to cover it as a 'business trip' by calling it a Caribbean Summit and inviting about a half dozen ambassadors to a nice dinner at Government House. We all smiled and shook hands and did some speechifying and posed for pictures. Meanwhile, while all the cameras were on me and Marilyn, Charlie took the girls over to Paradise Island. He dressed in civvies and a straw hat and sunglasses, and not too many people knew what he looked like. His sisters had been much more in the limelight since I had started campaigning for Bush in 2000. They had a great time figuring out disguises.
We warned them all about not doing anything stupid while reporters or cameras were around, and then sent them off with a small team of Secret Service people, right after Marilyn and I left the house in a limo and entourage. They went out in a very nondescript pair of cars. Charlie took them shopping in a few stores and then over to the casino, where he gave them a few bucks for the slots, and bought them too many drinks. They came back after Marilyn and I had gone home and gone to bed.
We woke up to hear a racket in the living room, and I grabbed a robe and wandered out down the hall to see what it was. I wasn't expecting trouble, since the place is guarded 24-7 even when we aren't around. Charlie and one of the agents were half carrying the twins into the house. I could smell the booze from across the room. "Didn't I ask you not to drink too much?", I said.
He dumped Molly on the couch and held his hands up in surrender. "Hey, I'm the sober one. I tried to keep them under control, but they're legal now, at least around here."
I glanced over at the agent who had decided to simply put Holly over his shoulder and head for her bedroom. "It's true.", he said, "Charlie was being the responsible party."
"For once?", added my son.
"You said it, not me."
Marilyn came down the hallway, looking bleary eyed. "What's going on?"
"Your daughters tried to drink the island dry.", I commented.
"Don't blame me, Mom! I bought them the first round, but they had their own money. If it had rum in it, they sampled it.", said Charlie. He picked Molly up and began leading her down the hall to her bedroom.
"Oh, dear. Well, they'll learn, I suppose.", said my wife.
"Did anybody see you guys? Is this going to be on the front page of the New York Times tomorrow?" Ari was enjoying a few days in the sun with us; would I have to let him know about this?
The Secret Service agent shook his head and said, "Not that I could tell. None of us noticed anybody paying attention to them." The security team had all been wearing casual clothing, and while I knew they were all armed, I had no idea how they were hiding their guns. "To be honest, they looked like a couple of girls who managed to get away from their parents for the night. It's not like that's never been seen on this island before."
I just grunted at that. It wasn't worth worrying about now. It wouldn't be the worst scandal ever seen in the White House. I touched Marilyn's elbow and said, "Let's go to bed."
"Will they be all right?"
"I sure hope not. I hope they have major league hangovers, so they know enough not to get stupid like this again."
"You're not a very loving father.", she commented, as we headed back to bed.
"Just a very practical one."
Marilyn and I slept soundly and woke up our usual time, and dined out in the sunshine the next morning. Charlie was up then, too. We didn't see the twins until almost noon, and they looked like death warmed over. They moaned and groaned and wanted to see a doctor. We just snorted and let Doctor Tubb examine them. He pronounced them fine, suffering from dehydration and excessive alcohol consumption, and prescribed orange juice and aspirin. In other words, major league hangovers. The girls denounced him as a quack, and we laughed and thanked him, and invited him and his team to dinner that night. Holly and Molly didn't make it to dinner, but spent the rest of the day moaning and groaning in their rooms.
Charlie skipped out, too, but not because he was sick. He said that he had seen a few clubs he wanted to visit and see if he could get lucky. Marilyn gave him some motherly and disapproving comments, and I simply reminded him to take some protection. Charlie laughed and left, and Marilyn decided to chew on me for awhile instead. I just nodded and agreed with everything she told me, and then laughed. "Do you want me to tell them about that first trip to Ocean City we took?"
That earned me a finger wagging and her trademark, "You can behave!"
I just hoped the girls would settle down some when they went to college. I doubted it, but I hoped. That occurred a week later, when they had to report to the University of Maryland for Freshman Orientation. So, just like every other college parent, we helped the kids pack their gear and go to school. Marilyn took them up to Hereford for a few days to sort through things and pack whatever they were missing in Washington, and then they drove down and stayed a night at the White House. The next morning, bright and early, we tossed their crap into the back of a War Wagon and rode in a discreet convoy over to College Park. It was an informal day, so I was in khakis and a Hawaiian shirt, and deck shoes with no socks, and Marilyn was in jeans and a checkered blouse and flats. After checking in, the girls got their dorm keys, and off we went to dispose of our children.
The word of the day to the agents was, "Lighten up!" I didn't need a phalanx of bodyguards in black suits, earbugs, and sunglasses shadowing us. They could dress a little more casually and blend in, and hide the War Wagons around the corner. The University knew the girls were attending, and there were some special security arrangements needed. For the first time in their lives they weren't rooming with each other, but had regular college roommates. Across the hall from each room was a dorm room containing a young female agent assigned to each girl and commo gear, and they were already in place. Security would be light, but there would be security.
Thankfully my ribs were healed up by then, at least so that I could carry some boxes around. I didn't have to carry many, though. Shortly after taking the first load up, several helpful young men magically appeared, offering their services, free of charge, to any of the pretty girls moving in. What wonderful examples of American youth! Marilyn and I quickly found ourselves abandoned. I don't think they realized who they were helping until they went out to the War Wagon and saw what else was inside.
Marilyn and I just walked around the dorm area for a bit. She had been the one to take the girls on their college visits, and get them through the registration process. This was helped immensely by the fact that they were straight A students and we were paying cash. Still, I thought she had done a fine job getting them ready and told her so.
Our reverie was interrupted by a young woman bustling up to us with a notepad in one hand and a microphone in the other. I saw one of the agents move to intercept her but I waved him off. She was oblivious to this, and simply came up to us and stuck the microphone in my face. "President Buckman, how do you feel the Secret Service presence on campus will affect campus life for the rest of the students here? What about the chilling effect on academic freedom it will cause?"
I looked at my wife, who seemed perplexed, and I gave her an amused look in response. I held my hands up in a time-out signal. "Who are you?"
"Why do you need to know that?"
"Because I like to know who I am talking to. Don't you?"
The girl's brows furrowed at that. She looked a bit stumped. "Oh." She thought for a second, wondering, I am sure, if by giving me her name she would be somehow violating the freedom of the press. I just stood there and waited for a response. After a moment, she capitulated and said, "Marcy Brennan.", and then thrust the mike back at me.