The Governor's Lady Read Online Free PDF Page B

the nice stuff at home when she went off to Atlanta. “People at school who dress like freaks usually don’t have much talent,” she had said. “They think if you look like an artist, that’ll get you by. People who have talent don’t bother.” And Allison had talent. She was stunningly good with a brush or pencil—quick, keenly observant, creative, eager to try anything. Honors in college. Now at one of the best art schools in the country.
    “Do you want to get dressed now?”
    “I’m not wearing a dress. I know Dad’ll be pissed, but I’m wearing slacks.” She had a shy inwardness but also a stiff backbone. She could be maddeningly stubborn.
    “Slacks will be fine,” Cooper said. “Don’t worry about Dad. It’s my day, not his.”
    Allison didn’t move. There was something wistful in her face. “I’m sorry, Mom. I know it’s your big day. But it’s the same old thing all over again—being on display, people watching everything you do, pulling and tugging.”
    “That’s hard on you.”
    “Yes, it is.”
    “And you thought it was behind us.”
    Allison rose finally, went to the closet, began rummaging. She pulled out a white blouse and a pair of gray slacks. She might be an artist, but she wasn’t much for color in her clothes. Maybe , Cooper had often thought, she’s trying not to draw attention to herself .
    She held the two garments up. “Okay?”
    “Sure.”
    Allison shucked off jeans and hoodie, tossed them on the bed. “Yeah, Mom, I thought it was behind us. You kept saying, ‘When it’s over, when Dad’s term is up, we’ll get out of this place. We’ll do this, we’ll do that, we’ll be normal people. We’ll have our own house, we’ll be able to go to a movie without the security spooks following us.’ I thought you really meant it.”
    Cooper felt a rush of despair. “You know, honey, it’s a little late for that. Before I agreed to run, we talked, or at least I tried to. You just gave me this pained look and walked off.”
    “But what if I had said, ‘No, Mom, you can’t do it’? Would that have made a difference?”
    “I don’t know. I honestly don’t. But you didn’t say that. Why didn’t you?”
    “I never thought you had a chance. I thought you’d lose and maybe it would be a little humiliating, but that would be okay because finally it would be over. But it’s not, and I’m beginning to think it never will be.”
    “So it didn’t turn out the way you thought—or hoped. I understand you’re hurt and disappointed, and I’m sorry. But Allison, today is today. Regardless of what accident or fate or black magic or whatever else got me here, I’m here.”
    Allison sighed. “Okay, Mom. Whatever. I won’t embarrass you or Dad. I’ll smile and wave, just like I’ve been taught. And then I’ll get in my car and go back to Atlanta and try to be invisible.”
    “That’s fine, honey. I’m just glad you came. Thank you.”
    “Carter said Grandmother’s here. In the hospital.”
    “Yes.”
    “You didn’t invite her, did you?”
    “No.”
    “You know she loves that stuff.”
    Cooper made a wry face. “Maybe that’s why I didn’t invite her.” She reached for the doorknob, then turned back. “Allison, I hope you can be invisible in Atlanta, and I’ll do everything in my power to help keep it that way. But I’m going to be anything but invisible. And do you know the God’s truth? I like it.”

    Pickett had wanted a convertible. “It looks better,” he said. “It says you’re open, accessible. It looks good for the cameras.”
    “No,” she replied, “it makes you look like an idiot. People will see it and say, ‘What are those idiots doing up there, going blue in the face and getting frostbite? Don’t they have any sense?’ No, Pickett, I’m not riding in a convertible. I’m not going to look like an idiot, and I’m not going to arrive at the Capitol with my mouth not working because it’s frozen.”
    So here they were in a plain