Page 70 of The Americana Playbook

Mumbled noises come from there, and I listen carefully. It sounds like she’s locking and unlocking the door over and over.

I right myself and walk down to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and returning upstairs to my bed hoping sleep will finally come. But before it does, I hear what I just saw—Parker checking the door again before retreating to her room and locking up.

She does it another three times before I get out of bed again.

“You alright?” I whisper from the top of the stairs.

Parker tilts her head up toward me. The movement is soft and smooth, so I know I didn’t startle her.

But something obviously did.

I’ve never worried about intruders or break-ins, and that wasbeforeI had Secret Service outside my door.

“Parker?”

The light coming from inside her bedroom allows me to inspect her face. There aren’t any obvious signs of crying or worry. There’s nothing wrong that I’m able to see. But I guess being haunted by something isn’t always visible.

She folds her arms across her middle. “Go back to sleep, Fitz. Everything’s fine. It’s just a bad night.”

Before she enters her room, I’m halfway down the stairs.

“It’s locked,” I tell her. “I promise.”

For good measure, I move down the rest of the stairs and to the front door. I can feel her eyes tracking my movements even in the mostly dark space. I press my hand to the door and pull on the handle. The door doesn’t budge.

I let go and turn. Now it’s Parker who has startled me. She’s moved from her doorway to just steps away, as if she didn’t trust me and needed to see for herself again. Her eyes are no longer on me. They’ve drifted to what I stand in front of.

I tilt my head to intercept her eye contact. “Don’t you know you’re safe with me?”

“You’re asking because you have the luxury of not knowing what it’s like to not be safe inside your own head.”

I take a step back, nearly stumbling into the door.

She’s right. I don’t. I can’t begin to imagine. But what I don’t tell Parker as she steps around me, checking the door once more before retreating into her room, is just how I worry now knowing she does.

* * *

NICK

Maybe you should consider running for office after you retire. This is from the other day.

I pause at the top of the stairs, opening the link Nick sends next. It’s an article about the other night’s event.

FIRST LADY LANDS IN REBELS TERRITORY WHERE HER FUTURE SON-IN-LAW POLLS HIGHER THAN HER HUSBAND.

Of all the things I’ve read about myself, that headline has to be the most ridiculous.

I’m not sure why you’re upset. You wanted to google me and not find Foller, here you go.

Nick

Who says I’m upset?

Also, I just RSVP’d to your engagement party. Invite came yesterday.

I tip my head to the side and walk downstairs into the kitchen where I find a vase of flowers on the island and cardstock decorated with calligraphy leaning against it.

The President and First Lady are happy to welcome you to join them in celebrating the engagement of their daughter, Miss. Parker Montgomery, to Mr. Fitzgerald Rhodes.

---