rip the Band-Aid off. She didn’t know how you showed up and told someone that he had a kid who had been living on this planet for fourteen years and the conversation didn’t turn out terribly. MaryAnne was right in many respects—she could see this now. She was a bad person. Or had been. Good people didn’t unilaterally make the decision to conceal their pregnancy under their graduation gown and then flee like hell to law school. And then indignantly tell the media during her first congressional run that the father was not involved by choice and perpetuate that lie to her son until he discovered otherwise.
Doug wore a wedding ring, and Cleo didn’t know if this made it better or worse—that he likely had a family and a wife who had to make this adjustment too. And she and Lucas had discussed it last night—that it was Doug’s prerogative not to be as gracious as they hoped. These were the ramifications of making bad decisions, Cleo knew. As a lawmaker, she had established a well-earned reputation of making people bend to her will. In her personal life, she was now seeing that the same wasn’t true, nor should it be.
“He has the right to be very upset with me,” Cleo said to Lucas as they were getting ready for bed. “All I can do is try.”
Despite her script, Cleo fumbled for words, which she’d suspected would happen, which was the point of the script in the first place. The waitress brought her the cashew milk latte, and it left a weird film on her tongue, so she grimaced and tried to just jump in. It occurred to her that perhaps Doug had seen photos of Lucas online—from time to time, he was photographed with her, though she tried her best to keep him out of the fray, and the press was usually respectful. (And surprisingly had taken her at her word early on that she had full custody, and it was the dad’s decision.) She didn’t think there were many recent public pictures, though, and Lucas had changed so much in the past few years, and besides, what are the chances that you see a child of a woman you once slept with and make the leap that he’s yours? Cleo could feel herself spiraling now, and she told herself to say it, just fucking say it! she screamed inside her brain.
She met Doug’s eyes, and then she watched his gaze drift over her shoulder. Something changed about his demeanor, like when an animal goes into fight-or-flight. His already good posture straightened up even more; the lines on his forehead folded. He returned to Cleo’s eyes and then back again, and Cleo knew, even before she swiveled around, that she never should have trusted a teenage kid to follow his mother’s instructions.
Lucas was standing by the hostess’s table, staring at Doug, looking more vulnerable and terrified than Cleo had ever seen. And she didn’t mean to and she didn’t fucking know what was happening with her, but she felt the swell of tears rush forward, and there was nothing she could goddamn do to stop them. She knew that Doug knew, because how could he not? Seeing the two of them together was like slipping back in time or, for Doug, like looking in the mirror at his younger self.
“I don’t . . . ,” he started, and Cleo watched his face go slack and then turn a very deep shade of red, which she prayed wasn’t rage.
Cleo stood, wiped her damp cheeks, and walked to Lucas, pulling him tight. She grabbed his hand and squeezed. She had to absorb his terror; it was the very least she could do and also the most she could do. This was what parenting was.
“Come on,” she whispered. “We can do this.”
Doug rose, then sat again, his face moving from Cleo to Lucas to Cleo to Lucas. Cleo reached for a chair from the abutting table and slid it across the floor and offered Lucas her seat, then sat in between them.
“I didn’t email you about cybersecurity,” Cleo said. She tried to draw on the confidence she used whenever she made a public speech. It didn’t work as well as she hoped, but at least she had stopped crying, though her voice still shook. She blew out her breath, tried to steady herself, and Lucas, the love of her life, now reached for her hand too. “I emailed you about Lucas.”
In her