Page 95 of The Americana Playbook

But even though I don’t particularly care for the nation’s capital, the true words sour my stomach. I try not to give the feeling too much attention, but it grows, screaming.

And there’s a chance we’ll be divorced.

“Is everything alright, Fitz?”

I turn my head. “Parker and her parents, they aren’t incredibly close.”

“Didn’t look that way judging by the photos of that fundraiser you went to with them,” Mom says. “It was all over the paper. All the talk is about your wedding.”

I think back to the quick stint I did in Florida. Of course, Walter and Candice aren’t going to start something with Parker on a night meant to kick off his reelection campaign. But the camera never tells the whole story, like how Candice only spoke to Parker that night when she told her to go mingle with so-and-so. And any time the opportunity arose, Candice didn’t waste a minute talking about the wedding she’s planning for us before the season fully kicks off.

I eye my mom. “I have to tell you something.”

“Now? Not before you got engaged?”

“Things with Parker are complicated.”

She nods. “I’m notthatinsulted. You’ve always kept your romantic life to yourself. But I’d like to be in the loop a little so I don’t have to find out about it in the paper.”

“We’re eloping soon.” I don’t give specifics. “Around the Fourth of July.”

Mom stops. “What about the wedding?”

“I told you. Parker and her family aren’t on the best of terms. We figured the engagement party was enough. We don’t even want a big wedding.”

“I see,” she says, looking forward and beginning to walk again. “And I take it Candice and Walter know nothing about this?”

I pocket my hands. “They will soon.”

Mom hums beside me. “I’ll only say this once, and then we’ll never talk about it again, alright? I never liked Candice and Walt,” she whispers, as if everyone on the street is on a first-name basis with the president and First Lady. “They were always gone. Leaving those girls with their grandmother. Clara meant well, don’t get me wrong. But children who grow up seeing their parents choose something other than them? It’s not right. That stays with you.”

I stuff my hands into my pockets. “Parker’s childhood was a little unconventional, I guess. But nothing bad ever really happened with Honey. Not when I was there. Parker loved her a lot.”

Mom sighs. “I know she did. That’s what I mean. After she passed away, they handled everything wrong. Poor thing was self-destructing?—"

“Let’s not talk about it. It doesn’t matter now.”

I’d rather not sour the brief time we have together by reminding Mom I’m not sure she handled everything right by letting Coach dictate every aspect of my life. Sometimes the best you can do isn’t always the right option.

My phone buzzes and I look at it quickly, but ignore the message.

COACH

Any answer about the Boston Journal?

Beside me, Mom sighs, knowing where my mind went. “She had something to fall back on Fitz. You… Coach Foller never wanted to see you get mixed up in the wrong things. Not when you had such a bright future ahead. And it all worked out, didn’t it?”

I know her words would hit so different if I actually were with Parker instead of pretending to be.

* * *

When the elevators open, I wonder if we should skip Vegas and just hit the courthouse right now. I don’t think I’ve seen Parker look more beautiful, orbridalfor that matter, wearing a white knit sleeveless dress that cuts a V down her neck, revealing warm skin and a galaxy of light freckles.

Parker shakes her head, narrowing her eyes, which radiate more warmth with the makeup. Her red-painted lips pucker in thought. “What’s wrong?”

“The better question would bewhat’s right.”

The answer,I tell myself,is you.

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