“Are you on the pill?” She shook her head. “Then why not? Any reason?” He glanced at Charles.
“I just don't think so,” Grace said firmly. She would have loved another child, but she just didn't think she could get pregnant. After six years, why would she?
“I think you are,” Charles smiled slowly at her. He'd never even thought of it, but she had all the symptoms. “Could you check?” he asked the resident.
“You can buy a kit at the drugstore on the corner. My bet is you're right, and she isn't.” He smiled at Grace. “I think maybe you have denial. You've got pretty much all the symptoms. Nausea, dizziness, increased appetite, fatigue, sleepiness, you feel bloated, and you missed your last period, which you think was from nerves. Professionally speaking, I don't. My guess is you're having a baby. I can call our o.b./gyn to check it out if you want, but it's just as easy to buy the kit and call your own doctor.”
“Thank you,” she said, looking stunned. She hadn't even thought of it. She had hoped for another baby for so long, and then finally given it up, and convinced herself it would never happen.
They went to the corner and bought the kit, and took a cab home, and Charles held her close to him, grateful that nothing terrible had happened. When the policeman had answered his phone, he had panicked, and feared the worst.
She did all the steps in the kit, and they waited precisely five minutes, using Charles's stopwatch, and she was smiling as they waited for it. They were both convinced now that she was pregnant, and she was.
“When do you suppose it happened?” she asked, looking stunned. She still couldn't believe it.
“I’ ll bet right after we had dinner at the White House,” Charles laughed, and kissed her.
And he was right. She went to her obstetrician the next day, and the baby was due in late September. Charles made a few noises about being an old man when it was born. He would be fifty-one, but Grace wouldn't listen to his complaints about being “old.”
“You're just a kid,” she grinned. They were both excited and happy. And when the baby came, he was a beautiful little boy who looked like both of them, except he had pale blond hair, which they insisted was nowhere in their families. He was an exquisite child, and he looked almost Swedish. They named him Matthew, and the children fell in love with him the moment they saw him. Abby walked around holding him all the time and called him “her baby.”
But with three children, their town house on Sixty-ninth began to burst at the seams, and that winter they sold it and bought a house in Greenwich. It was a pretty white house with a picket fence, and a huge backyard. And Charles bought a big chocolate Labrador for the children. It was the perfect life.
“Help Kids!” continued to thrive, and Grace went into town twice a week to check on things, but she had hired someone else to run the office, and she opened a smaller office in Connecticut, where she spent her mornings. Most of the time she took the baby with her in his stroller.
It was a comfortable life for them in Connecticut. The kids loved their new school. Abigail and Andrew were in first and second grades. And it was the following summer when Charles heard from Roger Marshall, his old partner who was now in Congress.
Roger wanted Charles to think about getting into politics, there was a very interesting seat in Connecticut coming up the following year, when a senior congressman finally retired. Charles couldn't imagine pursuing it, he was so busy at the firm, and he enjoyed his work. Running for Congress, if he won, would mean moving to Washington, at least some of the time, and that would be hard on Grace and the children. And political campaigns were costly and exhausting. They had lunch and talked about it, and Charles turned him down. But when the junior congressman from his district had a heart attack and died later that year, Roger called again, and this time Grace surprised Charles by pressing him to think about it.
“You're not serious,” Charles looked at her cautiously, “you don't want that life, do you?” He had been in the public eye once, when he was married to his first wife, and he didn't really enjoy it. But he had to admit that government had always been something that intrigued him, particularly Washington.
In the end, he told Roger he'd think about it. And he did. He decided against it finally, but Grace argued with him about what a difference he could make, and how much he might enjoy it. She thought it would mean a great deal to him and, more than once recently, he had admitted to her that he wasn't feeling as challenged at the law firm. He was feeling old in the face of his fifty-third birthday. The only things that really mattered to him anymore were the children and her.
“You need something new in your life, Charles,” she said quietly. “Something that excites you.”
“I have you,” he smiled, “that's exciting enough for any man. A young wife and three children ought to keep me busy for the next fifty years. Besides, you don't really want all that craziness in our life, do you? It'll be hard on you and the children. It's like living in a fishbowl.”
“If it's what you want, we'll manage it. Washington's not on the moon. It's not that far. We can keep this house, and spend time here. You can even commute part of the week when Congress is in session.”
He laughed at all the plans she was making. “I'm not sure we'll need to worry about it. There's a good possibility I won't win. I'm a dark horse, and no one knows me.”
“You're a respected man in this community, with good ideas, a lot of integrity, and a real interest in your country.”
“Do I get your vote?” he asked as he kissed her.
“Always.”
He told Roger he would run, and he began gathering people to help him campaign. They started in earnest in June, and Grace did everything she could from licking stamps to shaking hands to going from door to door handing out leaflets. They ran a real “common man's” campaign, and although they never made any secret of the fact that Charles was wellborn and well-heeled, it was equally obvious that he was also caring and sincere and well-meaning. He was an honest man with the country's well-being at heart. The public trusted him, and much to Charles's own surprise, the media loved him. They covered everything he did, and reported fairly.
“Why shouldn't they?” Grace was surprised that Charles was so amazed by his good press, but he knew them better than she did.
“Because they're not always that fair. Wait. They'll get me sooner or later.”
“Don't be such a cynic.”
She stayed pretty much out of the campaign, except to stand by him when he needed her with him, and to do as much legwork as she could, even if she had to take the children with her. But she had no desire to push herself forward. Charles was the candidate and what he stood for was important. She never lost sight of that.
She hardly had time for her own projects anymore, and “Help Kids!” had to struggle without her most of the time during the campaign. She still took shifts on the hot line whenever she could, but she worked for Charles more than she did anything else, and she could see that he loved what he was doing. He was excited about it, and they went to picnics and barbecues and state fairs, he spoke to political groups and farmers and businessmen. And it was obvious that he really wanted to help them. They believed him, and they liked everything he stood for. They liked Grace too. Her work with “Help Kids!” was well known, yet it was clear that her husband and children were her first priorities, and they liked that about her.
In November he won by a landslide. He put his partnership in the firm in trust, and they gave a huge party for him at the Pierre before he left. And then he and Grace and the children went to Washington to find a house. They were going to be moving there after Christmas. The children were going to change schools, and they were scared, but excited. It was a big change for them. And they found an adorable house in Georgetown, on R Street.