Friday afternoon, part 2
Checking her phone for the third time Therese wondered if Harge Aird was actually still planning to come. Their meeting at his office at Utah State Capitol was scheduled at 5 PM, but by now it was almost 5.30. Therese knew that Carol had talked with Harge over lunch, earlier that day. Perhaps their conversation had made him decide to skip the appointment with the woman whose arrival had turned his and the life of his wife upside down.
Her laptop with the selection from the many photos she had made earlier that week lay in front of her, carefully placed between the other items on Harge’s impressive mahogany desk. Therese was proud of her work. Even though her time at Salt Lake City had turned into an unexpected emotional rollercoaster, she had succeeded in composing a characteristic and positive image of the professional and private life of the Utah Senator and his family. But she also realized that, given the circumstances, it was unlikely the pictures would still be used for Harge’s campaign.
Therese had not considered cancelling the appointment herself. She owed it to her senior editor Fred Wilson who had trusted her with this assignment. But most of all she wanted to show Harge that she was not afraid of him, that she was not afraid to tell him that she had fallen in love with his wife.
Frowning, she wondered if “fallen in love” were the right words to describe her feelings for Carol. Yes, their physical attraction was unmistakable, but the same could be said about their differences. The contrasts between them were manifold: in lifestyle, in politics, in age. There was the problem of geography: the distance between New York and Salt Lake City was, literally, not easy to overcome. And most of all: Carol was a mother. Therese had never before considered the presence of a child in her life.
She was startled out of her musings by the sound of a voice in the corridor.
“I’ll see her now,” Harge called to his secretary, opening the door. Therese got up from her chair.
“Therese, please sit down …”
Harge crossed the room and positioned himself in the big leather chair behind his desk. Not looking at her he waved his hand in the direction of her laptop.
“So, what have you got for me?”
Not apologizing for the fact that he was late, he came straight to the point. Therese shrugged, if he wanted to be all business, she could play that game too. She opened the file on her laptop and clicked through the photos. The selection started with a picture of Harge speaking to his staff before the fundraising dinner on Saturday, Carol at his side, smiling. Then she showed him several images of himself frolicking with the children of Nibley Park, throwing the first pitch at the Bees game, sternly addressing the Chamber of Commerce, having a homely dinner with Carol and Rindy. He watched silently and didn’t comment on the images. Until the last one appeared on the screen.
“What the hell …!”
Harge’s voice cracked when his eyes focused on a photo Therese had shot on the baseball field. It showed him with his arm around the shoulders of the handsome young player who had lent him his glove. Smiling, the two men glanced at each other, a tender glance that left no doubt about the intimacy that clearly existed between them.
“Who is he?” Therese asked, matter-of-factly. “Your boyfriend, no doubt?”
Her face showing no emotions, she calmly registered how Harge lost control. He shot out of his chair and started to pace the room, stuffing his clenched fists into the pockets of his gray trousers. He kicked against the waste paper basket, then turned to Therese.
“What do you want, Miss Belivet?”
Your wife, directly went through her head. She smiled inwardly.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want money?”
Standing very close he tried to intimidate her. Unimpressed, she looked into his eyes.
“I don’t want your money.”
He shrugged, not believing her.
“Listen Harge, I just want you to take a look at your life. At your marriage with Carol, that is based on a lie. At your political career, that you chose just because it was expected of you. At your affairs with men, hidden from the public eye. I want you to look at who you really are.”
She pointed at the laptop.
“Tell me, is this really what you want, Mr. Aird?”
Harge winced. Through gritted teeth he managed to whisper.
“Get out…”
Therese got up from her chair, stuffing her laptop into her rucksack. Seeing Harge tremble, she felt no triumph.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Harge, but …"
He grabbed her arm and dragged her to the door.
“Get … out …!”
She went, softly closing the door behind her. And it was only then that he allowed the tears to flow that had been inside him ever since his conversation with Carol at the restaurant. Like Therese, Carol had also said she did not want to hurt him. But the pain he now felt was more than real.
He returned to his desk and slumped down in his chair. Wiping his nose he reached for the telephone and called his secretary.
“Ruby, would you please cancel my other appointments?”
“But sir, …”
“Cancel them.”
And then there was nothing else than to confront the chaos that was now his life. Terrified, he sighed, not knowing where to begin.