******

Leo could feel the golden sand between his toes, sifting through and joining the thousands of grains along the shoreline. Night was turning into day as the sun rose in the distance casting the first light across the beach and lifting his subdued mood.

If anyone had asked him four years ago what he’d be doing now, this was the last thing he would have said. He stopped at the water’s edge and rolled up his pant legs. The water was icy cold at that hour of the morning but it didn’t matter, he just needed to feel it. He knew what he should be feeling was a heady sense of freedom, a release from all the burdens that he
carried for years. But all he really felt was lost.

Ainsley watched from the deck, his oversized T-shirt falling to her knees. They had been up late talking the night before, his voice firm and insistent, hers soft and fearful. As she watched him stare into the distance, she wondered whether he had changed his mind about going back. She caught the lazy way he lifted his foot and trailed it through the water, his eyes intent on the waves lapping at the shore.

Softly, she stepped onto the sand and walked towards him. Her blonde hair blew in the early morning breeze and she had to push it back off her face. She knew, even before she slipped her arms around his bare waist, that he hadn’t heard her approach.

“You couldn’t sleep,” she stated in the accentuated Southern drawl he had come to associate with her newly awaken state.

“I’m usually at work by now,” he offered matter-of-factly, kicking at the ocean.

“If they need you, they can find you.” Ainsley pressed her head against his shoulder and inhaled his scent.

“And what if I don’t want to be found?”

“In time, you will. Leo, I don’t believe for a second that they won’t come after you.” She lifted her head to turn him in her embrace. “I know you are hurting, and I agree that you have every right to, but without knowing the reasons, and you are still as stubborn as when I met you, they can’t help you heal.” She let out the breath she was holding as she cupped his face.

“Nothing I say or do will make them understand,” he offered, his eyes falling shut. “That’s not how it works.”

Her thumbs brushed imaginary tears from his eyes, tears that she knew he would only shed in private, when she was asleep.

“Leo, honey. I know these people. They would walk through fire for you, give their lives to protect you, and because of that, I know they will come after you,” her voice trailed off. “Let’s go and get breakfast.”

His smile was weak, not quite reaching his eyes, but he let her take his hand and lead him back towards the house that had become their home. “I wondered how long it would be before you needed to eat.”

It had been her idea to fly to Florida and drive down to the Keys. That was the place people went to disappear and more than anything, Leo needed to disappear. They had found the small two up, two down on the beach for rent by accident and had paid cash. The upstairs bedroom was sparsely furnished but the bed was comfortable and the view from the window had been what won her over. Downstairs the kitchen was practical and the living room comfortable. It was all they needed.

Two days ago, he had handed in his resignation and walked out of the White House for the last time. At the gate, he had paused briefly and looked over his shoulder, remembering with fondness his time there.

Yesterday they had arrived in Key Largo and started the rest of his life.

******

The ice chinked in the glass as the bartender unscrewed the bottle and tipped the dark liquid onto it. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the drink before him. His mind comprehending that this was more than taking a drink, more than falling off the wagon, that this was going back, wiping the last fifteen years of his life.

His hand shook as he lifted the glass to his lips. He closed his eyes as the alcohol drifted to his nostrils and he took his first sip. The Jim Beam hit the back of his throat and he grimaced. Slowly it glided down, the taste a reminder of times past. Another sip followed then he was motioning for a refill.

He’d chosen the bar because it was out of the way. There was no chance of bumping into senators or politicians and having them stare at him. He didn’t drink in public, that was to say he never got drunk in public. The bar was his way of ensuring it was only one drink, or maybe he had gone beyond the point of caring.

The man in the corner watched him, making tiny notations in his notepad. At the fourth drink he went to the phone and made a call. His editor rubbed his hands in glee and cleared the front page, his own fingers flying across the keyboard as he plotted the paragraphs that would bring the second most powerful man in Washington to his knees.

Leo staggered to his feet, aware of what he had done, aware that there was no one he could call. He failed to recognize anyone in the bar as he stumbled out onto the sidewalk in a part of town he didn’t know. His feet moved independently of each other as he started to walk in the direction of home.

He awoke to the crude ringing of phones and pagers. His hand shot out from under the covers and closed around the receiver. Her voice carried from a distance, followed by pounding. He opened his eyes to look at the phone then at the door.

Ainsley turned the key in the lock and slammed the door behind her, unsure of what she would find, mentally berating herself for not being there, for not seeing how bad he was.

Her long tapered fingers closed around his hand as she removed the phone from his grasp and switched off his cell. “Leo, honey,” she whispered, dropping to her knees beside his pillow. “It’s me.”

“Leigh?”

“Yeah.” She pushed back his hair from his face and grimaced at his crumpled suit. “Leo, what happened last night?”

One eye opened again and she caught the embarrassment on his face.

“Leo, did you have a drink?” Her voice sounded scared, even to her own ears. He had cancelled their lunch date the day before, citing too much work. When pushed, he had admitted there was something going on with Mallory. The edge to his voice had warned her not to push the issue, but to wait until he was ready to open up. Ainsley’s fears had been confirmed when Leo had left work early and failed to call to wish her goodnight.

He turned his head away from her but Ainsley gently cupped his cheek, making him face her again. “Leo, please.”

His nod was subtle as he screwed his eyes closed tightly, not wanting to see her contempt or for her to see the true extent of his pain, clearly visible in her eyes.

She sighed. “It’s all over the papers.”

His eyes opened and he shot up, knocking her hands away. “What?”

Ainsley lifted the paper to his face.

His face stared back at him, the headline bold and graphic.

“Oh my God,” Leo mumbled, already on his feet and stumbling towards the bathroom.

The sound of retching had followed as Leo, normally calm, unflappable Leo tried to get his self together. Finally he sat on the edge of the bath, eyes closed, mind racing. He knew he needed to speak to the President, needed to go to work but something inside him was crying out to stay where he was, to give up.

Ainsley waited for what seemed like hours for him to reappear, when he didn’t she pushed the door gently and stepped onto the marble tiles. “Leo?”

“What do you want me to do?” she asked simply and he had looked up suddenly, vaguely registering that the usual longwinded sentences were absent, replaced with a genuine concerned inflection.

He shook his head, his hands gripped tightly in his lap.

“Margaret called me, she had my number in her rolodex and when there was no answer here she called me. When she discovered you weren’t with me, she panicked and I promised to come find you.” Ainsley crouched down beside him, taking his hands in hers. “The press are outside. And although I don’t want to alarm you, they are, as CJ likes to phrase it, out for blood. It may be better if you stay here.”

“I need to speak to the President,” Leo managed to stammer, gazing up into her eyes and not seeing the contempt he had expected.

“Can I recommend, in the meantime you take a shower and change?” Ainsley grinned and planted a light kiss on his cheek.

He shrugged as she helped him to his feet and turned the faucet on.

While he showered, Ainsley took out her cell and called Margaret. At the sound of her voice, Margaret had faltered for the briefest of seconds, her genuine affection for Leo outweighing her anger at him. Ainsley had reassured her and between them they organized a car and made him an appointment to see the President. Whatever the outcome, neither woman would turn their back on Leo, instead they would, at all costs, protect him, even if that meant protecting him from himself.

*******

Leo had walked into the West Wing, the newspaper under his arm and his briefcase in his hand, like he had on any other day. His eyes darted from side to side as people stopped and stared at him. Whether they were surprised to see him there or whether they were checking if he had a hangover he wasn’t sure. The walk to his office seemed to take an extraordinary amount of time, the looks making him self conscious and desperate to get it over and done with.

He entered Margaret’s office as she slammed down the phone. “Margaret?”

“Leo,” she said in a rush of breath, her smile warming his heart for the briefest of seconds.

“Can you give me a minute?” he smiled weakly. “I need to do something then I’ll go through.”

She bobbed her head, her eyes scouring his features for a sign of his state of mind.

Closing the door behind him, Leo powered up his computer and sat down. His typing had never been incredibly accurate or fast but this was one letter he couldn’t delegate to Margaret. A simple paragraph that would effectively end his career. He pressed print and retrieved it from the printer, signing his name and slipping it into an envelope.

Leo left his office and made the short journey to the anteroom. Charlie’s desk was empty and he was on the verge of knocking when he heard Toby’s voice through the wood.

“I’ve had the Senate minority Leader, the Chief Whip and God knows how many journalists already on the phone this morning.”

“Josh?” came the President’s voice.

“The DNC nominating committee now have me on speed dial. It’s the same thing over again. Leo has to resign,” Josh’s voice threw back, resigned to the outcome.

Leo pulled his hand back from the doorknob and took a deep breath. It was how he had always thought it would be. The first time, there would be a tousle to see who held your hand but you fell off the wagon and they turned their backs on you. He just hadn’t expected these people to follow suit, but then they had already pulled him from one hole, maybe this was one hole too many. At least he knew they would support his decision this time. Dropping the envelope on Charlie’s desk, he returned to his office.

It took a matter of minutes to drop the few sentimental belongings into his case and grab his coat. He left by the main door, leaving his security passes on the desk as he walked away for the last time.

******

“Leo?” she said, placing a plate of food in front of him.

He shook his head, pushing the memories to the recesses of his mind. “This looks good.”

Ainsley cocked her head to one side and gave him a skeptical look.

“It’s food, the toast isn’t burnt and the kitchen’s still in one piece,” Leo offered. “In which case this looks good.”

Pulling out a chair, she slid in beside him. They sat in silence as she lifted fork after fork to her mouth and Leo toyed with the food on his plate.

“Eat!” she ordered, around a fork of egg.

“I am.” He nibbled on dry toast to prove it.

She sighed dramatically as she swallowed. “Why don’t you pick up the phone and call him? I’m sure, positive after years of working for him, that he would want to hear from you. My cell is in the top drawer, under my. . .,” she waved her fork as she tried to think of the word.

“Scanties?”

“While there is little to them, they are not generally called scanties.”

“I’m really not hungry. I think I might take a walk,” he announced, pushing his plate away and kissing her forehead.

Ainsley watched him go, knowing that there was nothing she could say that would lighten his load. In one short week, he had practically had his world taken away in pieces. Walking away from the White House had been the final straw for him, and she had thought she was helping when she suggested going away, now she wasn’t so sure.

Pushing the plate away, she walked upstairs to get changed. Opening the drawer she stared at her cell phone, wondering whether to check it to see if Mal had called. She closed it again, deciding Leo needed to get his own head in order before he spoke to his daughter.

******

Leo rubbed his eyes and glanced at his watch. It was two am and he was still trying to read the briefing papers from three days ago. The pounding at the door aroused fear in him.

Quickly he rushed to open it, pulling back the door and preparing to face whatever he found. What he didn‘t expect was Mallory standing on his doorstep, her back to the door.

“Mallory?”

She turned and he immediately noticed the tear tracks down her cheeks and the red rimmed eyes.

His stomach tightened. “Baby, what’s happened?” Leo asked, reaching for her arm.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and she clung to him as fresh tears streamed down her face. “Daddy.”

Gently, he guided her into the hotel room and lowered her onto the couch, before taking her hand. “Honey, you’re scaring me,” he whispered, brushing her hair from her eyes.

Sobbing racked through her body as she refused to look at him. Finally, she looked up at him. “I don’t know how to say this. . .”

“You can tell me anything.”

Taking a deep breath, she asked, “What blood group are you?”

Leo stared at her.

“Mom’s B, I’m A,” Mallory explained, her lip quivering.

Comprehension dawned on him. “I’m O.”

Mallory nodded, “I thought so. Which means that you can’t be . . .” She couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t voice the truth that until that second had seemed a crazy fiction.

He lowered his head into his hands as his world collapsed around him.

They sat side by side as the minutes ticked away, neither really sure what to say or how a simple letter could change their lives forever. Mallory’s hand gripped his tighter as she watched his jaw tighten.

“I haven’t spoken to Mom,” she finally admitted. “I needed to, I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Yeah.”

The silence once again filled the confines of the suite.

“Is Richard home?”

“Daddy?”

“I’m going to call a cab and send you home,” Leo explained, rising and moving to the phone. “I need to think.”

“I love you, daddy,” she whimpered, watching him stiffen across the room. There was nothing she could do once his walls had been erected, except let him deal with his demons alone. And somehow, deal with her own.

That had been the last time he’d seen her. Leo had spent the rest of the night sat on the couch staring at his only picture of his daughter and wondering why he was being punished. It was only as the sun came up that he found it in himself to phone Jenny. After a day, that seemed to be an eternity, he had gone to his old house and received only half truths and recriminations for his trouble. Which is how he found himself drawn to an old friend.

******

Ainsley dropped her sarong onto the sand and lay down on the sun bed. Leo had been gone nearly an hour and she had no idea where he was. She had thought of wandering the shore in search of him, but his need for something certain and steady in his life, kept her close to home, waiting less than patiently. Closing her eyes, she drifted off to sleep.

“Woof.”

Her eyes flew open and she grinned, “Down boy.”

“I’m sorry for going off like that,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “I needed time to think.”

“Does this mean, your return that is, that you have come to any conclusions?” she asked, adjusting position so he could perch on the bed next to her. “Or would you rather have more time to yourself?”

Leo gently stroked her thigh, his eyes focusing on the patterns his fingers were making on her skin. “Mallory is my daughter. I raised her, I love her and she’s a part of me, as much as if she shared my blood group. That much I always knew I guess.”

Ainsley smiled, and reached for his free hand. “She’s a very lucky girl.”

“Right now though, I never want to speak to her mother ever again,” he growled, his eyes blazing. “I may not have been a good husband, or father, but I loved her. I thought I always would.” He stopped abruptly and looked up into the gentle green eyes.

“Go on,” she whispered. “Please, Leo. Talking, I have been told, is the soul’s way of healing itself. A problem shared is a problem halved. Two heads are better than one.”

“You’ve been watching Oprah again, haven’t you?” he teased, his smile not reaching his eyes.

“I had the flu. It was either that or reruns of Cheers.”

Leo slid his hand up her thigh and toyed with the string of her bikini bottoms, finding comfort in the softness of the skin and her willingness to be part of his life, to find solutions to his problems. “I didn’t really stop loving her until that night. I can’t explain my feelings for her in relation to my feelings for you.”

“You don’t have to, Leo,” she said softly, leaning closer so that her blonde hair fell like a curtain, covering the tiny yellow bikini. “You were married for a long time, you raised a child, that can not be discarded overnight.”

“You know I love you, right?” he asked, a little unsure of whether she really knew how important she’d become to him.

“You tell me twenty times a day. You don’t think I can tell?”

He allowed a small smile, “I don’t want this to be something else I screw up.”

Ainsley crossed her legs and adjusted her position until she was sitting beside him. “Oh, Leo. There are so many things, and I have only known you for a short time, that you haven’t screwed up. Mallory came to you when she found out she wasn’t blood related to you. She loves you deeply and she wants to stay in your life.” Her voice dropped as she rested her head on his shoulder. “You went into rehab, you sought help. This is a blip. If you’re half the man I know you are, you’ll seek help again.”

“And the White House? You can’t tell me that’s easily solved,” he asked harshly, dropping her hand and rubbing his temples.

“Not if you don’t go back.” Her thoughts momentarily drifted to something else she knew he wouldn’t screw up but it didn’t seem the right time to tell him her news. “Of course, you could turn your back on it, stay down here forever and wait for hurricane season to start.”

“Leigh?”

“Leo?”

“I need to see Mallory, I need to tell her that things aren’t going to change,” he said, turning to face her.

“Follow your heart.”

“That’s what led me to you.”

Ainsley pulled a face, “Okay, that just didn’t sound right. What I meant, is that you need to do, what your heart is telling you to do. Maybe you should pick up the phone and call your daughter. Reassure her that we haven‘t gotten married.”

Leo pulled her into his lap and kissed her lightly on the nose. “I really do love you.”

“Maybe you should call the President,” Ainsley suggested, dropping her gaze.

Leo shook his head.

“From my understanding, he is your best friend, and by extension so is the First lady. Would it not, therefore be better to reassure him and therefore her that you are alright? I would, had I not come with you, be at home, frantic with worry.”

“And comfort eating.”

“Well, yes. Chocolate is a recommended substitute for sex.”

Leo raised an eyebrow, “Recommended by who?”

Ainsley blushed, “A girl never reveals her sources. And you’re changing the subject.”

“You want me to phone Abbey and say what exactly? Sorry, but despite your husband’s faith in me, I’m still a drunk,” he snapped. At her glare, his shoulders sagged. “Sorry.”

“Sorry would, in fact, be a good start,” Ainsley commented. “Sorry, Abbey, for feeling my only resort was to have a drink. Sorry for leaving without saying goodbye.”

“Sorry for causing you more hurt,” Leo added.

“I think you will find, much to your surprise, that she will tell you to come home and talk to the President. Then, unfortunately, it is up to the two of you. My cell is in the drawer,” she stated, slipping off his lap and walking towards the shore. “When you’re done I will be collecting seashells, or swimming.” She took a few steps and glanced back over her shoulder. “Minus the scanties.”

Leo closed his eyes and forced back the images she had invoked. He knew what she was trying to do and he loved her all the more for it. Except right now, he had the urge to follow her to the shoreline and help her loosen the yellow strings, instead of making the most difficult call of his life.

Opening his eyes, he headed into the house, the time had arrived to face the inevitable. The phone was, as she said it would be, tucked in her underwear drawer. He smiled at the array of brightly colored panties, wondering how long she’d planned on being away, and pushed them to one side.

Taking a deep breath, he powered up her cell phone and waited to be connected to the Residence.

The sound of her matronly tone had him on the verge of hanging up but he pressed on, "Hello, Abbey. Can I speak to the President?"

“Leo?“ she asked, at the continued silence.

Leo slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his chest. His eyes naturally drifted to the sky and the tiny twinkling lights that seemed to lead back to Washington.

“Are you really ready to go back? We could stay, if you need more time, that is, a few more days,” Ainsley whispered, her hands covering his.

“I have to go back sometime,” he sighed. “Staying here is tantamount to running away.”

“And you’ve never run away before? Not even as a child?”

“Never, and I’m too old to start now.” His lips brushed her cheek lightly.

“I was six, although being advanced for my age I may have been four, when I packed some chips and Ducky, and set off for places unknown,” Ainsley giggled. “Pop found me at the crossroads at the bottom of our street, crying, and took me home for dinner.”

“Don’t tell me, you’d already eaten the chips and were hungry.” He grinned against her shoulder.

Ainsley hit his arm. “I have a high metabolism.”

“Leigh, look at that,” he cried, pointing to the bright light moving through the sky. “A shooting star.”

“Make a wish!”

“What?”

“I was told as a child, although it may be folklore and as such not true, that you are suppose to wish on a shooting star.”

“I think that’s a falling star.”

“Well, I for one, considering our luck of late, don’t want to take that chance so I’m making a wish,” she grumbled, closing her eyes and making her plea.

With a deep sigh, Leo followed suit, his hands pulling her even tighter to him. With eyes tightly shut, he lifted his head to the heavens and prayed for her to always be part of his life.

In Washington he would have demons to face, his oldest friends to apologize to and a daughter to father. With Ainsley at his side, he knew that whatever happened he would always have something to come back to, like the ocean she would be silent, waiting, well maybe not silent, but that was strangely comforting.

The End