“I’m very grateful to you,” Jennifer said.
“And I’m grateful to you,” Mary Beth confided. She smiled shyly and said, “You see, I’m very much in love, too. I was going to get the divorce immediately but I thought, for Adam’s sake, we’d best wait until after the election.”
Jennifer had been so busy with her own emotions that she had forgotten about the election.
Mary Beth went on: “Everyone seems sure that Adam is going to be our next senator, and a divorce now would gravely hurt his chances. It’s only six months away, so I decided it would be better for him if I delayed it.” She looked at Jennifer. “But forgive me—is that agreeable with you?”
“Of course it is,” Jennifer said.
She would have to completely readjust her thinking. Her future would now be tied to Adam. If he became senator, she would live with him in Washington, D.C. It would mean giving up her law practice here, but that did not matter. Nothing mattered except that they could be together.
Jennifer said, “Adam will make a wonderful senator.”
Mary Beth raised her head and smiled. “My dear, one day Adam Warner is going to make a wonderful President.”
The telephone was ringing when Jennifer arrived back at the apartment. It was Adam. “How did you get along with Mary Beth?”
“Adam, she was wonderful!”
“She said the same thing about you.”
“You read about old southern charm, but you don’t come across it very often. Mary Beth has it. She’s quite a lady.”
“So are you, darling. Where would you like to be married?”
Jennifer said, “Times Square, for all I care. But I think we should wait, Adam.”
“Wait for what?”
“Until after the election. Your career is important. A divorce could hurt you right now.”
“My private life is—”
“—going to become your public life. We mustn’t do anything that might spoil your chances. We can wait six months.”
“I don’t want to wait.”
“I don’t either, darling.” Jennifer smiled. “We won’t really be waiting, will we?”
21
Jennifer and Adam had lunch together almost every day, and once or twice a week Adam spent the night at their apartment. They had to be more discreet than ever, for Adam’s campaign had actively begun, and he was becoming a nationally prominent figure. He gave speeches at political rallies and fund-raising dinners, and his opinions on national issues were quoted more and more frequently in the press.
Adam and Stewart Needham were having their ritual morning tea.
“Saw you on the Today show this morning,” Needham said. “Fine job, Adam. You got every single point across. I understand they’ve invited you back again.”
“Stewart, I hate doing those shows. I feel like some goddamned actor up there, performing.”
Stewart nodded, unperturbed. “That’s what politicians are, Adam—actors. Playing a part, being what the public wants them to be. Hell, if politicians acted like themselves in public—what expression do the kids use?—letting it all hang out?—this country’d be a damned monarchy.”
“I don’t like the fact that running for public office has become a personality contest.”
Stewart Needham smiled. “Be grateful you’ve got the personality, my boy. Your ratings in the polls keep going up every week.” He stopped to pour more tea. “Believe me, this is only the beginning. First the Senate, then the number one target. Nothing can stop you.” He paused to take a sip of his tea. “Unless you do something foolish, that is.”
Adam looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
Stewart Needham delicately wiped his lips with a damask napkin.
“Your opponent is a gutter fighter. I’ll bet you that right now he’s examining your life under a microscope. He won’t find any ammunition, will he?”
“No.” The word came to Adam’s lips automatically.
“Good,” Stewart Needham said. “How’s Mary Beth?”
Jennifer and Adam were spending a lazy weekend at a country house in Vermont that a friend of Adam’s had loaned him. The air was crisp and fresh, hinting at the winter to come. It was a perfect weekend, comfortable and relaxed, with long hikes during the day and games and easy conversation before a blazing fire at night