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“That is so cold!” he said with a smile. “Of course the party base would never tolerate her.”

“You have to watch those guys. You can’t play to the base. The guy they want will never get elected. You have to do this on your terms, not theirs,” I warned. “Ever heard of Sarah Palin?”

Who?”

“Sarah Palin. She’s the new Governor of Alaska. Hard core Republican, female, young, a hunter, very conservative, damn good looking. Sounds like the perfect candidate to get the base all revved up, right?” He nodded. “I met her once, at a Governor’s conference. She has the IQ of a doorknob! That doesn’t really matter in Alaska, which has a total state population of a mid-sized city in the rest of the country, and where even the Democrats are conservative. You put her on national TV and she will come across as an idiot. You can pick any number of favorites from the party base, and as soon as you put them on national television, with a reporter who has actually read something other than the Bible or Guns and Ammo, they will flame out spectacularly. You really have to watch those guys!”

“I’ll give this all some thought. First I have to win the primary.”

I gave him a thumbs-up on that, and he took off.

After Charlie and Megan had a chance to settle in, the Pulaski family came to Washington for a visit. Megan’s parents, John and Barbara, and her two college age brothers, John Jr. and Will, came at the invitation of Marilyn and me. We put the two boys in the Queen’s Bedroom and Molly’s old room, and John and Barbara in the Lincoln Bedroom. Unlike some of my predecessors, Marilyn and I did not abuse the privilege of having guests stay in the White House. The place is very impressive, and the Pulaskis were suitably impressed. Marilyn and I gave them a tour while they were there, including the Oval Office. (I showed them the ‘Red Button’ but my wife told them it was fake.) We also told them that our home in Hereford was much less fancy, and that someday they would have to visit us there, or maybe join us at Hougomont for a vacation.

The Pulaskis were very nice people. The boys were Cornhuskers like their sister had been, studying business (John Jr.) and pre-law (Will.) I told them that I had talked to Megan any number of times while Charlie was in the hospital. If you wanted to get a good feel on people, do it while they are under stress. Staying with Charlie while he was racing and in the hospital was stressful, and she passed muster with Marilyn and me. They seemed to have done a good job with all of their children. Megan was going to be a fine addition to the Buckman family.

Then in December, something quite unpleasant occurred. A week before Christmas, Tuesday, December 18th, I was interrupted in the afternoon during a meeting with the Council of Economic Advisers. Frank Stouffer wasn’t involved, but he knocked on my door and slipped inside.

“What’s up, Frank?” I asked.

He cleared his throat. “Mister President, there’s a call for you that I think you should take.”

“Can’t you tell the secretary to take a message and I’ll call them back?”

“Sir, I really think you need to take this, sir.”

I gave him a peeved look, and stood up. “This will just be a few minutes, folks.” I followed Frank out of the conference room and headed back to the Oval Office. “What’s going on, Frank? This better be good.”

“Sir, you should take the call.”

“Who is it?”

Frank didn’t answer, but simply opened the door to my office and ushered me in. He didn’t follow, but closed the door behind me. I went to my desk and sat down, and then picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Carl, it’s Suzie.”

“Suzie! What’s wrong?! Is John alright? The boys?” Had something happened? Suzie sounded relatively calm, but maybe she was in shock!

“They’re fine, Carl. They’re all just fine. The home just called. Dad just passed away. I wanted to let you know. He died about an hour ago,” she told me.

That stumped me for a second. “Huh.”

“I talked to John before I called you. I’m coming home to see to him. John’s coming, too,” she told me.

“Okay. Would you like me to send the Gulfstream?”

“Please? It might make things go faster.” She paused for a moment. “I’ll let you know what the arrangements are. Would you like to come to the funeral?”

I snorted. “Suzie, the man disowned me thirty years ago. You’re going to be standing at the graveside a long, long time before I ever show up!”

“Carl…” she started lowly, and then stopped. “I understand. I’ll let you know afterwards.”

“Thank you, Suzie, and I’m sorry, for your sake, at least.” I waited for the click, and then hung up.

Frank must have been standing at the secretary’s desk waiting for me to get off the phone, because a few seconds after I hung up, he knocked on the door and let himself in without waiting for me to acknowledge him. I looked over at him blankly. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mister President,” he told me.

“Frank, I lost my father thirty years ago.”

“Still… Should I send the CEA home, sir?”

“Over this? Hell!” I stood from behind my desk and headed towards the door, but for some reason never made it past the couch. I simply sat down and stared at the wall for a moment. “Hell, Frank, cancel the meeting. It’s as good a reason to play hooky as I’ve ever heard of.” My mind went blank for a minute or two as I remembered back to previous times. Frank moved towards my desk. The next time I noticed him he was sitting down across from me with a couple of shot glasses and a bottle of Crown Royal I kept in a sideboard. I nodded and he poured a couple of shots. I took one and said, “Skoal!” and then remembered that was my father’s favorite toast.

“Skoal!” he replied. We raised our glasses and drained them. I set mine down and he refilled them, but neither of us grabbed for them. “What happened, sir?”

I shrugged. “Old age, probably. I didn’t ask and Suzie didn’t tell me. I’m sure it was the Alzheimer’s’. He’s had that since 2000 or so.”

“Will you be…” He let it go at that.

I shook my head. “Not hardly. The man made his bed, and now he can sleep in it, alone, as needs be.”

“Sir…”

“Suzie is flying down. Let them know to send the G-IV for her. She and her husband will come down to handle that. Why she wants to do that is beyond me. She changed her name and ran halfway across the country to get away from my family.”

“Do you know what the arrangements will be?” he asked.

“You’re a nosy bastard, Frank, you know that?” I said with a half smile. Then I sighed and picked up my drink. I sipped this one, savoring the warmth of the whiskey hitting my throat. “Probably out in Arcadia. Most of the Buckmans are buried out there. It’s one of the reasons Marilyn and I chose plots at a cemetery in Dulaney Valley, so we wouldn’t contaminate the family gravesite.” I sipped my whiskey. “The family ghosts would probably rise up and throw us out!”

“Will you be putting out a statement?” I gave him a hard look at that. He looked somewhat apologetic, but pressed on. “Will is going to be asking. Somebody is going to learn about this and ask. We need to be prepared.”

“No statement.”

“Sir?”

“Frank, you heard me. If anybody asks, explain that it is a personal family matter and that neither I nor the White House will be discussing it. If the reporter gets pushy, throw the dummy out.”

Frank sighed and nodded, sipping his own whiskey. “I understand. I have to tell you, though, that it’s going to be a problem. Politically it looks bad. Ungrateful son, and all that sort of thing.”