Leta sat on a thick quilt covering the bed, brushing her mother’s hair. When she was little, her mom used to do the same for her each evening before she went to bed, while listening to her tell all about her day.
With each stroke of the brush, she tried to dwell on happy thoughts and ignore how their roles had reversed.
“Jane Ladd is so put together, Mom. And smart. For some reason, we really seem to connect. I mean, I think she admires how hard I work and that I’m thorough. And resourceful.” She paused the strokes. “Just like you taught me to be, Momma.”
Outside the window, tiny multicolored lights twinkled from the row of hedges that circled the courtyard—the only indication that Christmas was next week. She’d wanted to put a tree up in her mother’s room, but as she’d learned last year, safety regulations prohibited the effort. Beyond potential accidents with electrical cords, any change in their living environment seemed to agitate dementia patients.
“This job could lead to everything we need, Mom. I’m already well on my way to bringing our account here at Heritage House current, thanks to a cash bonus I earned on this last research project.”
She told her mother all about the assignment she’d just completed. How she’d worked for days, spending every possible moment poring over public information.
Her first stop had been the attorney general’s office, where she inspected volumes of financial disclosure reports. She’d spent time in the secretary of state’s office tracking filings for the various entities she identified that had contributed to the Concerned Citizens for Texas PAC. No doubt the process was complex, but her hard work paid off again when she hit the pot of gold, so to speak.
She finally had her hands on the name of the true founder, and was shocked to realize the influential woman who formed the PAC was well-known philanthropist Vera Emerson Wyatt. Senator Emerson’s mother.
Leta shifted her legs to keep them from going to sleep. “I’m not sure what all this means, Mom. There’s a lot of moving pieces, some of them very secret. The more I get involved—the more I learn—the more I become confused.”
She didn’t mention how quickly Jane had buzzed Bernard Geisler on the phone, how he’d scrambled into the room and snatched the report off the desk. He’d read her findings with much interest, his brows furrowed and sweat glistening at his sparse hairline.
She’d sat and watched in silence, finally having to glance away when he licked his lips and used the back of his hand to wipe the moisture away.
When he’d finished looking over her work, he handed the report back to Jane. “Good. That’s good information,” he said before turning and leaving the room without even acknowledging her.
She also didn’t tell her mom how her gut had churned the whole time. How she’d forced herself to brush off the concern building inside. This was a good job, one she’d waited for, and a position she was really good at.
In the face of never finishing her education, which hindered her dream of becoming a landscape architect, this opportunity could furnish their financial needs and build her badly tarnished self-esteem.
She remembered how easily she’d looked Senator Emerson in the face when he showed up at the store. How she’d used her newly discovered confidence and boldly interacted with him despite the fact he was a senator—and someone she’d backed into only days earlier.
This new assurance could only be attributed to her new position.
“Mom, a guy came into the store a while back. His name is Nathan Emerson, and he works hard to support people like you. Senator Emerson wields a lot of influence on certain legislative committees that form the laws and regulations that affect patients with brain disorders and dementia. He’s also the founding director of the Institute of Brain Sciences. The guy really cares, Mom.” Her heart tickled inside her chest. “I—I think he likes me. I could tell from his eyes. You know what I mean, Mom?”
Leta gave her mother’s hair two more strokes before placing the brush on the bedside table. She clambered off the bed and nestled her head in her mother’s lap. “You were right, Mom. God is good.”
She wasn’t sure how long she stayed like that in her favorite spot, with her head there in her mother’s lap, before she felt her mom’s fingers in her hair. Softly stroking. “Yes,” she said. “He is.”
Leta quickly popped her head up. “Mom?”
Her mother stared out the window with the same emptiness in her eyes, the same void as always.
A slow, disappointed breath leaked from between Leta’s lips. Her eyes welled. She wiped away the moisture, then carefully wove her fingers through her mother’s and squeezed. “I love you, Mom,” she whispered. “If you are in there somewhere, please know how very much I love you.”
From across the room, an image flashed across her mother’s old Magnavox television. The familiar profile instantly caught her attention.
Leta pulled her fingers free and scrambled for the remote on the bed table. She quickly turned up the volume. “Mom, that’s him. That’s Senator Emerson.”
The guy she’d just been talking about stood on the steps leading up to the capitol building. He wore a beautifully tailored navy suit and a red tie. The camera zoomed in to catch a close-up of his face as the announcer’s voice-over began.
Key political strategists from across the state of Texas and beyond predict that Senator Nathan Emerson is poised to launch a challenge against incumbent Governor Holiday. An unnamed source reports that Senator Emerson is quietly but aggressively courting key endorsers and is developing a behind-the-scenes strategy for entering this very important race.
Officials from both sides of the aisle warn that Senator Emerson could pose a real threat to the governor serving a third term, especially given Holiday’s recent drop in poll numbers.
An image of Governor Holiday standing at a podium appeared on-screen.
The governor’s camp claims they welcome Senator Emerson into the race. Holiday’s political architecture has been in place for months, and his message remains clear—as a husband and father, he understands the importance of preserving traditional values like faith, family, and freedom for future generations. As the state’s chief executive officer for the past eight years, Governor Holiday has made protecting children, families, and these values the focus of his administration.
Leta watched with acute interest. Looked like a lot of people were paying attention to Nathan Emerson these days, especially the governor.
Before she could ponder what that might mean in light of her work at the Ladd Agency, the television monitor again switched to a film clip of Senator Emerson. Her new acquaintance stood chatting with a group of men.
Her stomach fluttered.
Nathan Emerson was no doubt fierce and bright and attractive in a decidedly handsome way—all angles and lines and broad shoulders. Even in their short exchanges, and especially given what she’d learned in all her research, she’d determined he had the mind of a scholar and was a force to be reckoned with. Those qualities, coupled with his sincere kindness, made him one of the most attractive men she’d encountered in some time.
Maybe ever.
She sat back, realizing the impact of the thoughts that had just run through her mind. While not ready to openly admit it, she was clearly attracted.
The announcer’s voice blurred as she let her mind wander to what that could mean—to the way he’d looked at her that night in the store and how, impossible as it seemed, he might feel the same about her.
The idea sent a thrill through her entire body. She felt the corners of her mouth lift as she let herself savor the idea.
She reached over and squeezed her mother’s hand again. “Look, Mom. That’s him. That’s Senator Nathan Emerson. Isn’t he amazing?”
Just then, something else on the television caught her eye. A woman—gorgeous in a black sequined dress, high heels, and big sparkly earrings peeking out from long, curly auburn hair—moved forward. Looking like some model who had just stepped off the pages of Vogue magazine or something, she flashed a brilliant white-toothed smile and placed her hand on the senator’s arm.
In a gesture that suggested intimacy, he placed his hand on the small of her back.
Senator Emerson wrapped up what he was saying, but his words blurred together as Leta focused on his hand as it guided the woman away from the cameras.
He . . . he has a girlfriend.
The thought came quickly like a sharp needle, piercing her fantasy and draining her of the elation she’d felt only moments ago.
You fool. Of course he has someone. Look at him.
Leta swallowed against the dryness growing in her throat, her hand heavy as she pointed the remote toward the television and clicked it off.
“No-no-no-no-no!”
She startled at her mother’s voice. “Sorry, Mom. I forgot,” she said, turning the television back on.
Immediately, her mother calmed.
Leta lowered the volume, then stood and moved to the window. She stared out at the darkness, acutely aware of how utterly hopeful she’d been. How much she’d wanted to see if there could be more than just a spark between her and Nathan Emerson.
How could I have misunderstood that look?
Mentally, she stepped back and got a grip on reality, realizing she’d been acting like a silly schoolgirl, easily swept away by an infatuation that would never be reciprocated.
She took a deep breath and forced herself to refocus. Thankfully, she hadn’t been stupid enough to tell anyone else what she’d been thinking about Senator Emerson—not even Katie.
She rubbed her forehead, determined to find the silver lining in all of this.
There were a lot of positives in her life right now.
The fact still remained she’d landed a great job. With any luck her employment would go full-time and the financial burden she’d been under would lift permanently.
No doubt, she had much to be thankful for.
Leta shifted from the window to find her mother had lifted from her chair. With a dreamy smile, the petite woman swept back and forth across the industrial beige carpet, waltzing to some unheard minuet.
Leta couldn’t help but smile. She held out open palms. “Hey, Cinderella, may I have this dance?”
With confidence, her mother gripped her hands. And for a magical few moments, Leta became a child again as she and her mother whirled around the tiny room in imaginary glass slippers.