Republican President Harold Barker was relaxing in the Oval Office, in one of those rare quiet moments he’d had few of since coming to the White House, when his chief of staff, Duncan McCarthy, hurried in.
McCarthy, who had been appointed chief of staff immediately following President Barker’s election, was a stout man, balding, with a crown of black hair like a monk’s tonsure. His suit jacket had been discarded at some point after he’d arrived at his office, and his white, button-down shirt was mostly tucked into his black trousers. His gold tie, accented with black stripes, was loosened, and Barker decided McCarthy had arrived at work at his usual six o’clock. He was from the president’s hometown, and the president trusted the man personally, as well as his political instincts. A pair of rectangular glasses perched halfway down McCarthy’s nose, and he looked a little owl-like as he approached President Barker.
“Good morning, Duncan,” Barker said. “Coffee?”
“No, sir, thank you. I’ve had three cups already and, unless you want me dangling from the chandelier and chattering like a monkey, you’ll appreciate it if I pass.”
“Okay, then, what’s so urgent?” Barker asked.
“Turn on CNN, sir,” Duncan said.
The president grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, which was set on CNN. The channel was doing a replay of the Jackson statement.
President Barker leaned in toward the broadcast. As the scene at the press conference unfolded, he was caught completely off guard by the former president’s statement. At the end of it, he sat back in the chair, and reached up to loosen the maroon tie he’d put on that morning. He yanked at the knot as if he was having trouble breathing, then collected himself so he could try to figure out what the heck was going on.
Picking up his cellphone, he dialed a number and waited impatiently for someone to answer on the other end. “Ralph, get in here right away, and bring Frank Mitchell if he’s here. We’ve got a problem.”
He laid his phone on the desk and walked to the door, looking out. Alicia Moore, his secretary, had just gotten to her desk. Her curly blonde hair framed an oval face, and green eyes sparkled behind wire-rimmed glasses. She looked professional in a gray business suit topped with a lace-trimmed blouse.
“Alicia, can you come in and take notes for me?”
“I can, sir.” She opened a drawer and took out a steno pad, then picked up the cup of coffee she’d just prepared and moved into the Oval Office.
The president went over and poured himself a cup of tea, which he preferred over coffee. He plucked a silver spoon from several laid out on the white tablecloth and stirred in a packet of artificial sweetener. He took a big gulp and a deep breath.
As they waited for the attorney general and Senator Mitchell, chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee, President Barker thought back to his recent conversation with Corbin Jackson. He had met with the former president about a week earlier to discuss how the new nation of Texas was going to deal with individual liberties. He remembered telling the former president flatly that he was certain Texas would be better than any state on earth about safeguarding individual liberties and rights. Where it got confused after that, he had no idea.
Ralph Smart, the attorney general and the president’s son-in-law, strode into the office, followed closely by Senator Mitchell. These men were two of the president’s main advisors and, along with Duncan McCarthy, would have some idea of what, if anything, should be done. Ralph was good at political analysis, and Barker wanted to get Mitchell’s thoughts on how Jackson’s comments might affect the relationship between Texas and the U.S.
Ralph Smart crossed the room to shake the president’s hand. “Good morning, sir,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Ralph, did you or President Jackson say anything after we met the other day that would cause him to make the antagonistic statement he made last night?”
“No, sir,” Smart said. “I didn’t even hear about it until late this morning.” He helped himself to a cup of black coffee, then sipped it as he peered over the cup at the president.
“Do we need to do anything about this? I don’t even know where he came up with that nonsense,” blurted Barker, looking from Smart to Mitchell. “This could undo a lot we’ve already done to get things on good working terms with Texas.”
“You know he’s just blowing smoke, sir. If I were in your position, I think I would just overlook it,” Smart said. “Or at least try to. President Jackson is not altogether stable, in my opinion. I’m pretty sure most people realize it, and think he’s just trying to get attention. Unless it leads to a serious confrontation with Texas officials, my suggestion would be to just let it go.”
“I’m determined to keep relations with Texas as open and friendly as possible because it’s mutually beneficial,” Barker said. “If Jackson keeps this up, he’s going to screw everything up royally.” He didn’t say what he was really thinking―that Jackson pretty much screwed most everything up anyway.
“Yes, sir,” Ralph agreed, nodding before he took another sip of the fragrant coffee. “I’m with you one hundred percent on that score. Texas has got some powerful assets going for it.”
“How about you, Frank? Have you had a chance to talk with your committee?”
“No, Mr. President,” the senator replied. “I don’t think it’s anything to be concerned about. Jackson just doesn’t seem to want to let go of his former role.”
“All right, then,” the president said, escorting Ralph and the senator to the door. “I won’t waste any more time on it. Hopefully, it will just fade away and nobody will think any more about it.” Somehow, that thought didn’t do much to ease his concern.