“I mean, I’m almost six years older than he is. And he’s a boy. And I’m, well, I’m a woman.”
“I guess there is sort of a big gap in age between the two of you.”
Now Claire looked pained. “My mom, um, she had a miscarriage when I was about three.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Claire looked shocked that she had divulged this information. “Oh my God, please don’t tell anyone I told you that. I mean, very few people know and it never came out during the campaign and I know my mom would—”
Robie said, “Claire, I don’t repeat things people tell me to anyone. Ever.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”
“But back to your brother. Did you two used to talk?”
“Sure, I mean, before Dad got elected. He was a governor before then. We lived in the executive mansion and everything, but it was nothing like this. Tommy was a sweet kid. He looked up to me.”
“I think he still does.”
She smiled. “There was this one year we went trick-or-treating? Dad went with us, on the sly so the camera crew wouldn’t follow us. You know what he was dressed as?”
Robie shook his head. “What?”
“Maleficent. You know, the wicked character from Disney’s Sleeping Beauty. Everybody thought it was my mom. But she was in really high heels and was dressed as Darth Vader. That’s who they thought Dad was. It was really fun. It was like our own family secret. Something only we knew, when, you know…”
“Everybody knew everything about you?”
She looked at him. “Yeah,” she said ruefully.
“I saw you had on a Yale sweatshirt. You thinking of going there in a few years?”
“If I get in.”
“The president’s daughter? I think you’ll be fine.”
“But that’s not how it’s supposed to work. I don’t want to get in because of him. I want to get in because of me.”
“That’s a great way to look at things,” said Robie.
“Besides, my dad went to Yale. My mom went to Columbia. I’m thinking of UVA. I went there a few times. Charlottesville is beautiful.”
“Mr. Jefferson’s university. The man who could not live without books.”
“Not a bad guy to emulate.”
Robie was about to say something when he heard the bang. In a second he had Claire down on the ground, shielding her with his body, and his gun was out, making sweeping arcs in front of him.
He heard feet running toward them and his finger slipped to the trigger guard as he crouched down, keeping his free hand on Claire’s shoulder.
Claire said in a quavering voice, “What is it? What’s happening, Will?”
In a low voice he said, “Just stay down, Claire. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
A Secret Service agent came running around the corner of the house and saw Robie. “Stand down, stand down, Agent Robie. There’s no threat,” he yelled.
Robie did not yet lower his weapon. The back door of the house opened and Reel and the First Lady came out, surrounded by agents.
Reel called out, “It was a backfire, Robie. Car passing the house.”
Robie put his gun away and helped Claire up. “You okay?”
She was shaking but nodded. “Thanks, Will. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody move that fast.”
“Claire, honey?” said her mother anxiously.
Claire ran to her mom and the two women hugged.
Reel walked over to Robie. “Great, now you’re really her hero.”
“They sure it was just a backfire?”
“That’s what they reported.”
“Okay,” he said, not looking convinced.
“Why, you think otherwise?”
“I always assume the worst. That way I’m rarely disappointed.”