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Future FLOTUS?

By Amy Denson

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CHAPTER ONE

~Haddie~

Haddie hears the screeching alarm beckoning her to start a new day. Groaning, she pulls the pillow over her face, trying to block out the sound. She hits the off button and finally sits up in bed. The darkness still envelopes the sky and the cold temperature in her room has her shivering to her bones. Climbing out of bed will be the hardest thing she does today. She misses the warm sunshine of South Carolina. She would give anything to inhale the salty air and sand of her favorite beach today. Unfortunately, she is living in what feels like Siberia, otherwise known as the northeast during winter.

She slowly pulls off the covers and kicks her legs over the side of the bed. She sits, staring out into the darkness. The only light comes from the hallway nightlight that her roommate and favorite cousin, Maryssa insists on keeping lit every night. Haddie chuckles remembering the time Maryssa broke her toe last year when she kicked the toilet in the middle of the night. From that moment until forevermore, there would be a nightlight in Maryssa’s life. It is only funny now that Haddie doesn’t have to care for Maryssa, the drama queen, and her broken digit any longer. The laughter and promise of coffee make it easier to stand and turn on the light. A few stretches and a sun salutation later and she shuffles down the hall to the bathroom.

Haddie’s mind races through her finals schedule as the hot water warms her to her core. The scent of lavender and mint soothes and energizes her at the same time. As a thirty-one-year-old retired ballet dancer, Haddie is the oldest in her college classes. This is her last year before beginning medical school and only one final and few online classes next semester stand in her way. Haddie’s anxiety mounts as she remembers the French II test she has this morning. Foreign language is not her strongest subject and never will be, but it is another requirement she must meet to fulfill her dream. Why she needs to know French, or any other foreign language to be a doctor is beyond her. Haddie likes numbers and science. Cold hard facts she can process and manipulate. That’s what she understands. Steps. Stretches. Counting and breathing while hitting her mark on stage. Haddie likes structure.

Conjugating verbs and memorizing French nouns will not help her diagnose a rare flu strain or a case of lupus. Maybe she can use French during her acceptance speech for the Nobel Peace Prize when she finds the cure for Ovarian Cancer. Ovarian Cancer. The sadness creeps in as she thinks about the ravaging illness while pangs of longing fill her body. The disease eats away at its victims and their families. Haddie shakes her head and tries to refocus. She can’t go there now. French. She focuses on French.

As soon as she turns off the water, Haddie hears singing. Maryssa must be awake. Maryssa and Haddie have been best friends since the day they were born. Their mothers were sisters and gave birth the same week. They spent every waking hour together since they were born. Haddie and Maryssa began ballet classes at the age of three. Both women love the beauty and strength of the dance. They grew up on the same street and were in the same grade. They even both had their hearts broken by the same crush in middle school. Darn that Billy Blane.

Maryssa’s family moved from South Carolina to Washington, DC their sophomore year in high school. Uncle Malik, Maryssa’s dad, is the head chef at the White House. When they left, Haddie moved with them so she and Maryssa could attend the prestigious Capital City Performing Arts School together. Haddie’s parents hated to let her go but didn’t want her missing out on an incredible opportunity.

After graduation, both Haddie and Maryssa auditioned for the National Ballet Ensemble. Other than Maryssa’s six-month tour in Paris, the two danced together for nine years until Haddie injured her knee. Retirement comes early for ballet dancers.

Maryssa danced for another three years before retiring herself to begin culinary school. She finished her finals yesterday but has work today. She will be long gone by the time Haddie is ready. Maryssa works as a dishwasher and back-up server in the White House with her father. It’s a long way from the streets of Paris, but Maryssa can learn from top chefs while paying for culinary school. Security cleared her with her dad, and they eat lunch together on most days. Maryssa and Uncle Malik keep trying to get Haddie to work at the White House too, but she loves working at the university library. The quiet and the books make Haddie feel grounded and safe.

Haddie quickly dresses and pulls her thick chestnut hair back and wraps the curls into a tight bun. She picks her trusty purple headband to wear. She wore it the day she auditioned for the Ensemble. Hopefully, it will bring her luck on this test. Her favorite gray sweatshirt is a must for today. The softness and the sweet scent of lavender fabric softener comfort her as she pulls it over her tiny frame.

Haddie grabs a granola protein bar and her water bottle as she runs out the door to catch the Metro. The cold air hits her smack in the face as she opens the door. Winter break can’t come at a better time. After killing herself this semester with eighteen hours plus clinical work, she is ready for a break. She flies out tonight to spend Christmas with her family in Charleston.
The warm South Carolina weather and sunshine call her name. One more final and she will head home. All Haddie thinks about is her parents and niece Chloe. The four-year-old’s brown ringlets will get Haddie through the day. She can already smell her Mom’s gingerbread man cookies and her Dad’s famous chili simmering on the stove. A few more hours and she will be home. She can almost taste it.

~Jackson~

Jackson wakes to a raging headache. He drags the pillow over his face as he tries to recall the source of his pain. Remembrance floods his mind as he groans and calls for his personal aide, Marcus. A tall, smart looking man in his mid-forties scurries to the side of Jackson’s bed. Jackson’s head throbs so loudly that he doesn’t even try to flirt with the attractive nurse trailing behind Marcus with an IV bag.

“Sir, I’ve taken the liberty of acquiring a bag of fluids to be administered this morning. Your unusual state last night beckoned me to be prepared.” Marcus pauses at Jackson’s bedside.

Jackson nods in acceptance, the movement making his head throb more. The nurse quickly begins her work while Marcus runs through Jackson’s schedule for the day. A groan escapes his lips as the light creeps in through the curtains which were not closed last night. “Marcus, does it look like I’m in any condition to start my day?”

“Sir, as instructed last night: ‘Marcus, do not let my hangover stop me in the morning! I have important things to do!’” The sound of Marcus’s voice begins again, and the pillow goes back over Jackson’s head.
“Mr. Barnes, Mr. Miller, and Ms. Lyn are waiting outside. Should I let them in now or shall I wait until your IV finishes and you’ve showered?” The condescending tone in Marcus’s voice as he speaks the last word tells Jackson he looks as bad as he feels this morning.

“No, let them in now. I doubt they can make my headache throb any more than it already does.”

“Truer words were never spoken.” Marcus mumbles and heads for the door. He ushers out the nurse and in the trio of trusted advisors.

As Jackson props himself up in bed, his three loyal advisors shuffle into his room and begin pulling out their tablets and phones. Another day to tackle and succeed. Hayman Barnes is a longtime family friend. He went to school with Jackson’s father. Rich Miller, Director of Communication, is Jackson’s fraternity brother and the greatest spin master in Washington. Madison Lyn lived in the same dorm as Rich and Jackson. Her no-fail attitude was ingrained in her since birth by her father. She is the smartest person he knows and has saved his tail too many times to count. That is why she is his deputy chief of staff.

Hayman is double fisting coffee and already talking before he sits down on the couch across the room from Jackson. “I’d offer you some, but I should probably wait until your IV starts working.” Hayman’s blond hair is perfectly styled and held into place with some serious products. He looks like a medium-built Ken doll in his sixties. He dresses to the nines and is always polished. Hayman Barnes is the perfect chief of staff. No detail ever overlooked with him. “You look awful, by the way.”

Rich chimes in, “The only other time I’ve seen you like this was after senior sendoff at Mario’s. That was some night.” Rich looks off into space as he remembers. Jackson shoots daggers at his friend while Madison shakes her head.

Are they smirking? Why are they smirking? Don’t they work for me? Shouldn’t they at least pretend to feel bad? I am in pain over here, and they are cracking jokes. I need coffee!
“Marcus!”

“Your coffee and breakfast are being sent up as we speak.” Marcus sits on the blue bench at the edge of Jackson’s bed. The seat completes the square of seating around a large circular coffee table.

The room, decorated in vibrant blues and greys, has a masculine and classy feel. Antique lamps provide just the right amount of light to work but aren’t so bright to make Jackson’s headache any worse. The room is large enough to have a seating area for work parties such as this. Three loveseats coordinate perfectly with the color scheme and are sufficiently comfortable for people to work without making them want to stay awhile and chat. Each member of his team has picked their own couch to spread out on as they cover highlights for the day.

Madison launches into her morning briefing. “The final numbers from the Festival are through the roof. The State Dinner was an enormous success and highlights from your speech are trending all over social media. We have both sides of the aisle wanting to help with the environmental bill focusing on solar power, but the education reform talk has set up a few red flags. We need to appoint a new Secretary of Education ASAP to push through the agenda quickly. You need to look at the names today and make a final decision…….”

Jackson hears Madison talking but can’t stop looking at the coffee table in front of her. The sturdy, dark cherry table reminds him of the desk in his father’s study. He would sit opposite his father on the weekends at that desk. Jackson lived for the weekends with his parents. His weeks were spent with tutors and lessons, but the weekends were strictly family time for him. He would read the comics and the sports page while his father took calls and conducted business in his office. Jackson Cashe II taught him everything he knew about politics and making deals at that desk. Marilyn, his mother, would bring them both peanut butter cookies and milk. They would all sit around the desk and eat cookies. He hasn’t seen the same smile from his father since his mother passed. The ache fills his chest.

Jackson’s thoughts shift from his father’s desk back to the coffee table where Marcus places the tray carried in by a butler. Jackson smells the black coffee. His mouth is watering. He gulps down the entire glass of water sitting next to his bed on the nightstand, then saunters over to sit with his team. His blue striped, silk pajamas are wrinkled from a hard night’s sleep. The IV stand trails behind him as he sits beside Hayman on the most comfortable of the couches.

The scrambled eggs are just the way he likes them. The bacon is crispy and fills the air with a heavenly smell. Jackson eats while trying to pay attention to Madison more closely. Referendum, speech, ratings, I’m back on track.

Hayman picks up when Madison stops and begins talking about the weekend. Vague memories are coming back to Jackson. A week of activity, the dinner, the speech, the VIP party after the speech, the alcohol. He rubs his head. The governors of Massachusetts and New York really like their bourbon. Jackson’s head thumps again, but the IV is finally working. Jackson focuses on the highlights from the week and Hayman’s account of everything.

“The governors were very pleased with the events, but we’ll need to do some follow up with them on the outreach programs. We successfully presented to the world that we are as strong as ever and oozing with power and magnificence. Overall, it was even better than we expected. It was ingenious of you to invite state leaders from the Allied States. The few who attended had meaningful conversations with our team about reunification. Rich’s ‘after party’ plan played an integral role in negotiations.” Hayman pauses as Rich bows his head in mock humility. He quickly continues, “Even the Vanessa situation seems to poll well. Everyone was stunned, but apparently no one liked her. Bonus, we think we may have an idea on how to spin the split in your favor.”

The fork full of eggs stops mid-air. Jackson shakes his head. “Wait, what?” Realization settles on Jackson and memories of the fight come rushing back to him.

Silence fills the room as his most trusted advisors stare at him expectantly. Finally, Rich chimes in, “Surely you remember the scene she caused by not coming to the after party? You had no choice. She is a hot mess. Total diva.” All eyes were glaring at Rich. “I’m sorry, but we all know it’s true. Don’t let the door hit you if you know what I mean.”

“What Rich is tryyyiiing to say is that there was no major fall out over you breaking the engagement with Vanessa. As it turns out, she was not very popular with your constituents.” Madison attempts to refocus Jackson while she stares icily at Rich.

“Where is my phone? Has she tried to contact me?” Jackson looks for Marcus who is already bringing over Jackson’s phone.

Hayman’s booming voice startles Jackson, “No. You did the right thing last night. She embarrassed you, and we can’t let that type of behavior set a precedent or succeed. She is harmful to our branding. Our sources report she caught the first flight she could to Greece and is staying on a yacht with a male model friend of hers. You need to let it go Jackson and use this to our advantage.”

Jackson scrolls through his phone. Nothing. No calls. No texts. Nothing. She is long gone. I know there were problems, but man, she just bolted. Shouldn’t I be more upset?

Hayman breaks into his thoughts. “Jackson we have an idea that could skyrocket your already high approval ratings. Please listen to the plan before you shut us down completely. We think this could draw attention to the country and bring back tourism. Foreigners are still concerned about the stability after the Separation. The riots have died down in both countries, but the chasm is palpable. This idea will show the world we have a strong economy and are back to business. We’ve already put the wheels in motion so you’ll be hard pressed to say no. Rich, please share the strategy while keeping your personal opinions to yourself.”

Rich’s dimples become more defined as a smile breaks across his face. He excitedly moves to the edge of his seat and launches both hands into the air while he speaks. “So, you’ve heard of The Bachelor, right?”

“No. No. No!” Jackson shakes his head vehemently.

This is not happening!

~Finals~

The sun burns away the cold from the morning as Haddie inhales the unusually warm December air in deeply. The day has shaped up to be a top ten DC day. She aced her French final. The sun peeks its lovely head out of the clouds and warms her up enough that she stuffs her heavy coat in her backpack. Her sweatshirt allows for the perfect mixture of warmth and chill as she begins her walk home.

She grabs a mocha iced coffee and a gift for Maryssa from the coffee shop in front of the library. She heads off campus and down the main street of town. The bells from the Salvation Army ring loudly as she walks along the storefronts. Every window displays festive Christmas decorations and wrapped gifts. Her favorite department store boasts a family drinking cocoa in front of a mock fireplace while warmly showing off their designer sweaters.
Surrounded by Christmas gives Haddie another pick me up in her step. Her bags are packed with T-shirts, jeans, her favorite kicks, and a few novels she’s been dying to read. The plane is scheduled to leave at six pm, and she can’t get home fast enough. She will even have time before Christmas to go shopping with her mom and maybe also catch up with old friends. Yes, today is a good day.

Haddie’s apartment is three blocks from campus on a tree-lined street. Just a few weeks ago, the now barren branches were filled with gorgeous reds, oranges, and yellows. Haddie loves the walk home from class. Thank God, she’s been accepted to the medical school so she can continue living here with Maryssa.

Music is always playing when Maryssa is home. Haddie opens the door to sounds of deep bass resonating off the walls. Once again, she is grateful for well-insulated walls and kind neighbors.
“Hey, était votre test français?” Maryssa asks as Haddie drops her keys on the table by the door.

“Bonjour! I did well if I do say so myself! I even answered the bonus question about the Eiffel Tower.” Haddie hands Maryssa a large green tea and a magazine. “Your favorite drink and tabloid trash, for my favorite tutor!”

“I had to make sure you could speak the language so we can visit together one day. The gifts are much appreciated!” Maryssa’s whole face smiles as she takes a long drink of tea. She tosses the magazine on the table. The front cover has a headshot of President Cashe’s ex-fiancé with the word “NEXT!” across her face. “Ooh, this is a good issue. I’m dying to know the deets of what happened to them. Now, what time do we need to leave to get you to the airport?”

“I’m ready whenever, so it’s up to you. I want to get there soon. I might be able to catch an earlier flight on standby.” Haddie plops down on their soft, purple suede couch. They picked it out together and made sure they found the perfect blend of comfort and style. This couch must be like sitting in clouds. It was plush and cushy in all the right places. “Are you sure you don’t want to spend Christmas with us? I’m sure Uncle Malik can get a couple of days off from work.”

“While I would give anything for one of Aunt E’s gingerbread men, my dad isn’t ready yet, and I can’t leave him.” The sadness in Maryssa’s voice fills the room with silence and thoughts of Aunt Ruth flood both women.

Haddie’s Aunt Ruth died of ovarian cancer three Christmases ago. Her death came one month after Haddie’s sister Lizzie’s death of the same disease. The family was utterly beseeched with grief but fought to celebrate the lives and faith of both women. Haddie felt so helpless watching these two giants in her life fight such a horrible illness. She vowed to destroy the disease that tried to destroy her family.

The family hangs on to Christmas memories more than ever now, but it also makes the season equally meaningful and filled with longing. Uncle Malik says that it is too hard to go back to their old street. He just isn’t ready yet. These days, he fills his time with work, his only daughter, and his favorite niece.

Maryssa shakes the sadness from her head and continues flipping the pages of the magazine on her lap. She breaks the silence with the four words that always fill Haddie with anxiety. “So, my dear cousin, I have an idea.”
The exaggerated groan is meant to elicit an eye roll from her “dear cousin” Maryssa, and it did just that.

“Haddie, trust me this time. Listen to the whole idea before you say no. It’s really an amazing opportunity. It’s been all over the news this morning. You love skiing and have time on your hands next semester. It’s the perfect plan for you to relax, enjoy a luxury resort, and make some money!”

“What are you talking about, Maryssa? Are you sending me on a vacation?” Haddie laughs at her cousin.

Maryssa pauses and takes a breath before the next words rush out of her mouth. “You know how much I love The Bachelor, right?”

“No. No. No!” Haddie pulls a blanket over her head while trying to block out the next words out of Maryssa’s mouth.

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