Free Edge of Honor by Richard Herman Page A

was that subtle.”
    “Patrick had his moments,” Turner replied, thinking of all she had learned from him.
    “Will there be anything else, Madame President?”
    “I was hoping to speak to General Bender today.” It was a gentle reprimand that her staff had not done their job.
    “We found him in Arizona,” Parrish said. She arched an eyebrow. “He,” Parrish rushed to add, “will be available tomorrow. When would you like to see him?”
    “Whenever it’s convenient.” That was her code for It-had-better-happen-tomorrow.
     
    It was a quiet evening at home. Sarah was sitting on the floor wearing a headset and listening to music while she did her homework. Maura was sitting in a recliner reading one of her fashion magazines with her knitting in her lap. Occasionally, she drifted off to sleep, only to give a little honk and wake herself up. In the background, the TV was turned to CNN. Madeline Turner was curled up in the corner of her favorite couch wearing a baggy track suit and woolly socks. She was reading the blue binder on the UN South African peacekeeping mission she had requested that morning. The room was a scene of domestic tranquility paparazzi would have killed for to photograph. But Maddy’s fierce protection for her family’s privacy made that impossible.
    Maura gave a little honk and woke up. “Mother,” Maddyasked, closing the three-ring binder, “you met Matthew Pontowski at NMMI. What was your impression?”
    “Little Matt?” Maura asked, still drowsy.
    “No, his father.”
    Now the older woman was fully awake. It had been a long time since her daughter had asked her opinion about a single man. “He’s very attractive,” Maura replied. “A widower, you know. Lenora McMasters told me all about him. He was very wild in his younger days when he was a fighter pilot.”
    Maddy shook her head in disapproval. She had met too many Pontowskis in her time; good-looking men who reeled women in with far too much success and ease. “The top-gun image,” she said. “I never knew if they were talking about their penis or their airplanes. Why do women fall for it?”
    “Fall for what?” Sarah asked, pulling off her headset.
    Both women sighed in resignation. Once Sarah joined in a conversation, she pursued a topic with bulldog-like determination. “The things men do to attract women,” Maddy answered.
    “Oh,” Sarah replied, apparently satisfied with that answer. Then, “Mom, who are the Moody Blues?”
    “An old rock-and-roll group from the early 1970s,” Maddy answered. “I don’t think they’re still recording.”
    “I never liked them,” Maura said.
    “Your father and I loved them,” Maddy said. “We used to sit and hold hands listening to them.” She caught Maura’s amused look and, for a moment, was back with Brian Kelly Turner. Indeed, they had listened to the Moody Blues, but they weren’t exactly holding hands. They were usually in bed making love. The sex had been wonderful. But there had been a rough spot when she discovered she was pregnant and not sure if she wanted to marry him. However, Brian Kelly Turner had pursued her so doggedly that she finally gave in. Then she had a miscarriage.
    But it was an excellent marriage that had grown stronger over the years. His death from a heart attack while playing tennis at forty-eight had devastated her. It had happened in the middle of the election when she was running forvice president on the Quinton Roberts ticket. Shaw used her husband’s death as the springboard to victory. He turned around the losing campaign by casting her as a devoted mother of two young children gamely soldiering on. It had worked because it was true. It also covered up her thin political record and captured 88 percent of the women’s vote.
    “Maddy,” Maura said, drawing her back to the moment and Matt Pontowski. “People do change, you know. Why did you ask?”
    “I’m reading about a peacekeeping mission he was on in South Africa. Apparently,