Free The First Affair by Emma McLaughlin Page A

feet in flats, leaned toward—and over—Max. “Look, Susan wants another four years of this as much as the next person,” she said in a weary way that made it sound like the next person was a Republican. “But you know the deal.”
    “I don’t care,” Max said, red rising from his collar like a cartoon of a boiler. “She makes people fall in love with him, and we need that right now. Thanks to that furlough, we’re behind in the polls, behind in fundraising, and what we have is a wife with an eighty percent approval rating.”
    “This is Adam’s senior year, and Susan’s made it clear she isn’t going to run herself into the ground making up for Greg’s mistakes. This ”—Abigail circled her hands at the building around us—“will be over one way or another. She’ll honor the agreed-upon number of public hours per week—that’s it .”
    After they left I asked Margaret about Abigail, who seemed like the last person someone as genteel as Susan would want as her representative.
    “Oh no, it’s the opposite. Someone like Susan needs a bulldog like Abigail to advocate for her.”
    “Isn’t that the President’s job?”
    She didn’t answer.
    • • •
    I met my family at the airport because it was only my dad’s third time flying. He couldn’t get over how much smaller the seats were than onhis last trip. “I had my knees under my chin, my feet in the lap of the couple in front of us, and my head resting on the baby behind us. Mind you, it was a very comfortable baby.”
    The first time he flew, he was a six-year-old moving to America. The second was to visit me Freshman Weekend. My parents hadn’t been in my dorm an hour when the call came in from the San Francisco police—after so many near misses, Erica had inevitably been in a car accident. Only it turned out what actually happened was that she was so wasted, she got out of the car on a hill without putting it into park and it rolled through someone’s fence and pitched into their hot tub. Which probably would have been a civil matter if she hadn’t punched the cop who arrived at the scene.
    They spent the rest of the weekend on the phone, missing everything, and Gail discreetly stepped in to be my surrogate. I remember trailing Lena along the Sunday brunch buffet at the inn where Gail was staying, praying the lump in my throat wouldn’t give way to tears over the Canadian bacon. Erica got sober shortly thereafter. Honestly when it came to my graduation and Dad begged off, I was relieved.
    “All right, Dad, you’re going to want to stay straight on the Potomac River Freeway,” I instructed from the passenger seat of the rental he’d insisted on despite my explanation of the Metro. I looked over to make sure he’d heard me and realized he was wearing the Izod that Erica and I gave him for Christmas. Meaning that Erica gave me her Amex and I signed the card from both of us.
    “This is absurd,” Erica grumbled from the backseat, where she was emailing with her office. “We’re so close, we could’ve walked. Why’d we wait in line an hour to rent a car?” I was mystified, too—mostly by the expense, but I think the idea of having the car for the weekend gave him a base, like a snail’s shell.
    “Take the ramp toward Rock Creek Parkway.” I gestured at the sign.
    “And why didn’t you just get the GPS?” Erica added.
    “It was thirty-five extra dollars a day,” Dad answered, “which means something to some people.” And we were off.
    “D.C. isn’t really a walking city,” Mom added brightly, patting Erica’sknee from where she sat beside her in the backseat. I don’t remember when she started sitting with Erica—possibly before I was born—but they both said the passenger seat made them queasy.
    “Mom, when were you in D.C.?” I asked.
    “Oh, you just hear that.”
    “Another left on Virginia and here we are!” I announced as we pulled into the circular drive.
    “Well, isn’t this fancy,” Dad said.
    “I