Chapter 105: Vacation

Tuesday, November 6, 1990

I should have expected what happened next, but I didn’t. Brewster’s cell phone rang, and he held it up to his ear. He grabbed my shoulder and said, “Come on, back to the room!”

“What’s up?”

He slipped the phone back into his holster. “The President is going to be calling.”

I stared at him for a moment. “The President? You mean, the President?”

McRiley began dragging me out of the room, and the other pros and Marilyn followed me. Out in the hallway, where it was quieter, he said, “Yes, that President! Not the President of the Baltimore Elks Club, the President of the United States! He calls all the new Congressmen and congratulates them.” He kept hustling us back to the suite.

Once inside, I looked over at my wife, who looked as shocked as I did. For all my money and ‘power’, I had never even seen the President at any kind of event, only on television, and certainly never talked to him. Brewster’s cell phone rang, and I jumped at the sound. I whirled to face him, and he was speaking into it, and then he passed the phone to me. “Is it him?” I whispered.

He shook his head. “No, it’s Gingrich. Say hello.”

I took the phone. “Hello?”

“Carl, it’s Newt Gingrich. How are you doing tonight?”

“Pretty good, sir. Thank you for calling,” I replied.

“Congratulations on your victory. That was one nasty campaign. I’m glad you kicked his butt.”

“No gladder than Marilyn and I are. She was even angrier than I was.”

I could hear a chuckle. “When you come to Orientation, I’ll want to meet her, so she can tell me how bad it was. I’ll want to meet you again as well. We’ll need to figure out how to boot out some more Democrats.”

“You can count on me, Congressman.”

“I’ll let you go, Carl. You’ll be getting a lot of congratulations tonight. We’ll talk soon.”

I gave a good-bye and the phone call ended. I handed it back to Brewster. Almost immediately it rang again, and his eyes raised as he answered it. Then he looked over at me. “Is that him?” I whispered again.

He answered in a normal voice. “No, but it’s the White House switchboard. I’m under orders to keep the line open for the next ten minutes and he will pick up at some point. Don’t run to the bathroom in the meantime.”

I suddenly had an incredible urge to pee! Oh Christ! I ran across the room and went into the bathroom, dropped my trousers, and pissed and took a dump. What if I missed the President of the United States because I was in the bathroom? As soon as I could, I wiped my ass and pulled my pants back up and flushed as I raced back out to Brewster. Marilyn was laughing her ass off against the wall. McRiley simply handed me the phone. “Here, you hold the damn thing! He hasn’t picked up yet.”

I stared at it and held it up to my ear but got nothing but some Muzak. After a few minutes more a woman came on the line and said, “Hello?”

“Yes?”

“Please be prepared for the President to be on the line in one minute.” At that I got some more Muzak.

I swallowed hard and damn near came to attention. Then there was a click on the line, and I heard George Bush - only he wasn’t talking to me! “Okay, which one is this one?” he asked, like he was talking to someone else, and there was a muffled reply.

Major buzzkill!

He came back on the line. “Congressman-Elect Buckman, this is George Bush. Congratulations on your victory tonight!”

I stood a little straighter, which I have since learned is normal, and answered, “Thank you, Mister President.” I looked over at Marilyn and mouthed ’The President!’ and pointed at the cell phone. She just laughed at me.

We spoke for just a couple of minutes if that. Apparently, it’s a tradition that the President calls every newly elected Congressman and Senator, so he probably had a bunch of calls to make. He made a pro forma comment about looking forward to working with me, and a few other pleasantries. I finished with, “It will be an honor and a privilege to work with you, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Brewster McRiley was giving me a big smile at that. “Laying it on a bit thick there, Carl?”

I smiled but shook my head. “That was the President of the United States, Brewster. It will be an honor and a privilege to work with him.”

“You really are a true believer, aren’t you?”

I had to laugh at that. “Very much so, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll beat that out of you,” he replied. I laughed some more.

I also got congratulatory phone calls from Bob Michel, the Minority Leader, and Lee Atwater, the Chairman of the RNC. Even William Donald Schaeffer, the Democratic Governor of Maryland, called to congratulate me. I smiled to myself afterwards. If my mother knew I was being congratulated by the Democrats, she’d disown me all over again!

It’s a good thing I mentioned to Brewster that we were running off to Hougomont for the rest of the week, because he immediately began protesting loud and long! Wednesday, he had a full schedule already planned for me! This involved two things, going on television and talking to reporters, and calling back everybody important and thanking them. He would allow us to vacation starting Thursday, but only after talking to every other human in the Ninth District before then.

It was after midnight when we got home. George Tilden had ordered one of his patrolmen to station himself at our door with a breathalyzer. He was good natured about it, and we only had one guy get mouthy. We loaded him in a taxi and took away his keys. I kept an eye out for people and a few got sent home with somebody else driving. Interestingly, I was tested as well, and I passed, but Marilyn failed, which got her to giggling. The cop and I just rolled our eyes at that, and I loaded her in the car and took her home.

We went inside to find both her parents sleeping in our recliners. The only question I had was whether they fell asleep before or after the announcement. It was more than possible that they had fallen asleep ahead of time and didn’t know that their son-in-law was a Congressman-elect!

Dum-Dum woke up and madly scrambled over, so I grabbed her leash and took her outside. The ruckus woke up Big Bob, and he started climbing out of his chair as I went outside. Dum-Dum didn’t take too long to do her business, and then we went back inside. She wandered back to Charlie’s room to sleep. Harriet was lumbering up out of her chair.

“You win?” she asked.

I smiled over at her daughter. “Let me guess. You two fell asleep before the announcement?”

Big Bob laughed and nodded. “I think so.”

“I won. I’ll be the next Congressman from the Maryland Ninth,” I told them.

They stared at me for a moment. “Huh. You know, it’s hard to believe. I don’t know as I’ve ever met a Congressman before,” he replied.

“We’re pretty normal, Bob,” I said, grinning.

Marilyn laughed hard at that. “Don’t push your luck, Carl. You haven’t been sworn in yet!” Then she yawned.

“I need to get some sleep. Come on, Mother, let’s go to bed. See you in the morning. Congratulations.” He led Harriett down the hallway.

I followed my wife into our bedroom. “When do we have to be at the airport?” I asked. Marilyn had sorted it out with Taylor. “Oh, that’s right, we aren’t going to the airport.”

“As soon as we wake up, I’m calling Taylor and sorting it out,” Marilyn replied.

“Fucking Brewster,” I muttered. We both shook our heads at that one.

The next morning, we explained to Big Bob and Harriet that we would be delaying our trip by a day, and they agreed to help. By breakfast time Brewster had called and set up a schedule with reporters and television stations, and both Marilyn and I were to be at headquarters ASAP! Or sooner! We finished breakfast, shaved and/or showered, and were at campaign headquarters by nine. More people greeted us than I would have expected, and we were cheered as we walked in the door.

I waved to everybody and then was dragged away into my office by Brew. “What’s with all the people out there?” I asked.

“I asked a few people to come in, to help shut down and clean up. Be nice to everybody and thank everybody, and maybe they’ll help us out again in two years, right?”

Understanding dawned on me. “Right, so I make sure I call or speak to all the volunteers. Got it!”

I ended up driving into Baltimore to talk on camera to the various television stations, but I spoke to Fletcher Donaldson of the Sun by telephone. Yes, we were excited by the win. Yes, we had to thank all the people who supported us, with donations and with time. No, I haven’t talked to or heard from Andy Stewart. No, I haven’t heard what he was saying about us (he was damning me left and right, and some of his statements were certainly actionable!) I won, and it was all water under the bridge.

Yadda, yadda, yadda! Be polite, don’t say much of substance, thank everybody under the sun. In between interviews, Brewster had a list of names and times for me to call and say thank you, and some I had to promise to meet between now and when I was sworn in.

It was after dinner before Marilyn and I got back to the house. She was as frazzled as I was, but the day wasn’t over. Waiting for us in the driveway was the head of our security detail, Henry Donaldson.

I got out of the car, and said, “Henry, is there a problem?” I glanced at the house, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Henry saw my look, and he simply shook his head, and replied, “No, not yet, but there will be. We need to talk.”

I stopped. “Is there a problem?” I repeated.

“Sorry. No, nothing is wrong with the kids or the house or your family. This is about the future.”

“Okay. Well, come on in. We can talk in the den.” I shrugged at Marilyn, and she gave me a perplexed look in return.

We went inside, to hear everybody clamoring that they saw me on television, and Big Bob indignantly commented about the bile Andy Stewart was still spewing. We laughed at it all. I told Big Bob that we had talked to Brewster McRiley about Stewart, and he was calling him in the morning. Andy got a one-day free pass. If he said anything starting tomorrow, we were going to sue his pants off.

I made a round of drinks for everybody, including Henry, and then the three of us headed into the den. Charlie tried to follow us in, but we scooted his butt back out the door. Then we settled into chairs. “Well, what’s up?” I asked. “Everything seems okay.”

“We need to talk about your security situation. Congratulations on winning, but that just complicates things.” I tried to wave him off, but Henry was dead serious. “Mister Buckman, I’ve been doing this long enough to know what I’m talking about. I was on the Detail for President Reagan back at the beginning of his first term, right after the shooting. If you don’t mind me saying it, you’ve been lucky so far.”

I was tempted to blow him off, but then I remembered something John had once said about listening to the experts you paid for. Henry Donaldson seemed serious. “Okay, so explain that.”

“Sir, you are a billionaire and a politician. One or the other would be bad enough, but the two together? You are an incident just waiting to happen! Combine that with your penchant for rescuing people ... what would have happened if it had been a gang and not just one guy at that diner? You run your personal security as if you were inviting disaster.”

“As long as Marilyn and the kids are safe, I can generally handle myself.”

“Sir, I beg to disagree with you. First, while your children and wife are safe when they are being tailed around by my crew, you usually dismiss them when you are there. You can’t be both husband and father and security. It won’t work. As for taking care of yourself, you are asking for trouble. All it takes is one insurance fraud crew managing an accident and you could be in huge trouble.”

“Insurance fraud?” asked Marilyn.

He nodded to her. “Imagine this - your husband is out driving home from somewhere when a beat-up car full of people pulls up in front of him and slams on the brakes. Your husband rear ends them, and then they sue for all sorts of stuff. If they are really professional, they do it at a location where they have cameras, you know, ‘friends’ who just happened to be nearby. They will sue you for all sorts of medical bills, and then for causing the wreck, and traumatic this-that-and-the-other. It happens all the time.”

I glanced over at my wife, who looked horrified by the thought. “I’ve heard of that happening, but I thought it was just in books or bad television shows,” I said.

“It’s a multibillion dollar a year insurance problem. In your case, the danger is not in the insurance fraud aspect, which does not really affect you, but the publicity and the chance for blackmail.”

“I’ll be damned,” I said to nobody in particular.

“So, what does this mean for us? What do you want us to do?” asked Marilyn.

“We need to treat security much more comprehensively. Both you and Mister Buckman need to handle security more professionally. There will be some changes, not so much for you and the children, but for Mister Buckman,” he answered.

“What kind of changes?”

“The house is secure, but we need to put a gate across the driveway and move the guard station to the end of the driveway from across the road. We are already tailing the school buses to school and keeping an eye on Charlie and the twins. Ma’am, you should be having one of our drivers with you everywhere. We can make it either a man or a woman, but they can’t be following you anymore, they need to be driving you.”

“Good God, it’s sounds like what the President has to do!” she exclaimed.

At that Henry and I looked at each other and smiled. “It’s not even close!” he said. I just laughed and shook my head. Henry continued, “You tailor the response to the security threat. In the President’s case, nobody really worries about insurance or blackmail, but everybody worries about kidnapping and assassination. I don’t see assassination as a problem here, although kidnapping is a possibility.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “Yes and no. All those pictures of the missing children on milk cartons and such - the majority are either runaways or custody disputes. Actual kidnappings are very unlikely; the number is on the order of a few thousand a year or so, depending on how you calculate it. Now, that’s a serious problem, but it’s not many when you figure this is a nation of almost 300 million people. The level of surveillance we have maintained is enough to stop anything but a professional kidnapping for ransom, which is something you only see on bad spy movies or television.”

“It’s different with the President and his family,” I told Marilyn. “That’s where the bad movie scenarios kick in, both for kidnapping and murder. The problem is that if somebody is willing to pay the price in bodies, they can always kill or capture their target.”

“So, don’t run for President,” I was ordered.

“Congressman was bad enough. I have no idea why anybody would want to run for President,” I countered. “So, what do you want out of me?” I asked him.

“You can’t be doing things on your own anymore. From now on you have a driver and a bodyguard full time. We can dress them appropriately, so they blend in. That stunt at the Westminster Diner? No more! What if Andy Stewart had been behind it, and the husband-and-wife team had been actors? You’d have been in Hagerstown, not him. No more of that stuff!”

Huh! It’s one thing to have your wife complain about that. It’s her job to complain about everything. It’s quite another to have a professional complain.

“One other thing. Mrs. Buckman, I am not trying to be indelicate, but I have noticed that you don’t have any tan lines...”

I snorted and began to laugh. I knew immediately where this was going! Marilyn turned beet red and spluttered, “You mean ... you’ve seen ... oh my God!” Marilyn frequently tanned topless by the pool while the kids were in school, and when it was just the two of us at Hougomont she often wore even less. I was going to miss that.

“I don’t want to be indiscreet, but a photographer with a telephoto lens could probably rent a helicopter for a thousand or two a day, and sell the photos for five to ten times that, more if Mister Buckman was with you and, well...” He left the sentence hanging. Donaldson at least had the decency to look a touch embarrassed to be bringing this up.

“Oh my God!” Marilyn wouldn’t even look at him, or me, for that matter.

I couldn’t take it any longer. I leaned back and laughed loud and long, at which point Marilyn reached over and punched me in the arm. That only made me laugh more. No more sex on the beach.

Eventually I stopped laughing, and the looks Marilyn was giving me indicated that sex on the beach, or anywhere else for that matter, was no longer a possibility in this lifetime. I simply smiled and asked, “So, we’re going to the Bahamas tomorrow. Do we need to cancel that, too? Or do you have a crew on standby for this?”

“I’d like to send a man and a woman with you. They can report back on any changes we need to make in the routines down there.”

“Okay, but they need to be here mid-morning, or it’s wheels up without them.”

“They’ll be here by nine.”

I stood up at that and walked Henry out, agreeing to make the changes necessary. I knew I wasn’t going to like some of them, but I also knew I had been lucky so far. He was right, being a billionaire and a Congressman was going to take some work.

I showed Henry out and headed back into the den. Harriet had put the kids to bed, and she and Big Bob were dozing in the living room. Marilyn looked at me sheepishly when I entered the den, and that just made me laugh some more. “The secret is out! You could have cost us the election!” I teased.

“You’re not funny!” was the riposte, although she began to giggle.

“If I’m not funny, then how come you’re laughing?”

“Do you think anybody saw me? I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life!”

“You mean besides me and your other boyfriends?” That earned me a squawk of outrage. I sat down at my desk and twirled around to face her. “Well, if we can’t have incredibly hot sex outside, we’ll just have to have incredibly hot sex inside.”

“Keep laughing and you’ll never have any sex anywhere!” I laughed at that, and Marilyn gave me a “Humph!” and stood up and headed for the door.

I made a long arm and got her around the waist as she passed me by. “I bet I can change your mind.”

“Oh? How?” she said snidely.

“Like this!” And with that statement I pulled her skirt up and grabbed the waistband of her pantyhose and pulled them and her panties down.

“Carl!” she squealed. She looked wildly towards the closed door to the rest of the house. “We can’t! Not here!”

I kept pushing her pantyhose down below her knees to her ankles. “Your parents are snoozing, so you’d better not scream too loudly.” I lifted her up and spun her around so that she was sitting on my desk, her bare bottom on the calendar/blotter. I pushed her knees apart and put my face between her thighs and began to eat her out. For all my wife’s complaining about her parent’s coming in, she was very excited and very wet. Almost immediately Marilyn began to whimper and squirm around on the desktop. I glanced up and she had her eyes closed and was biting on one knuckle; the other hand grabbed the back of my head and pulled me into her pussy and kept me there!

I chowed down through a couple of orgasms for my wife, and then pulled my head away. She was looking at me in a dazed fashion. I unzipped my pants and pushed them and my briefs down to my ankles. “Your turn,” I told her.

Marilyn slid off the desk and down to the floor. My cock was stiff as an iron pipe. I didn’t want or need any sort of ‘foreplay’, so when she opened her mouth and took me inside, I pushed forward and put my hands in her hair and fed it to her completely. It felt good, really good, and she sucked me and jacked my shaft, and I don’t think I lasted two minutes.

After swallowing my load, Marilyn licked her lips and sat back on her ankles. “I bet the President doesn’t have to worry about helicopters buzzing the house and taking photos. He can have them shot down!” she said, giggling a touch.

I smiled down at her. “No, but I bet the Russians have satellites that could take photos! Wouldn’t that be a kick?”

I stood up and helped Marilyn to her feet. We pulled ourselves together and grabbed the glasses and headed back to the living room. Marilyn’s parents were both snoring in the recliners. I rolled my eyes at Marilyn. She scooted down the hall to the bedroom and I woke them and sent them to bed. We readied ourselves for bed, made love, and then fell asleep.

Any hope I had of an early morning quickie was destroyed when Holly and Molly decided to join us when the sun rose. They came running into our bedroom and jumped on the bed. The two peppered us with questions about what we would do by ourselves in the Bahamas (I chuckled at that and got a dirty look from their mother) as well as what would happen when I started my new job. Were we moving? Were they going to a new school? What would happen with Dum-Dum? Were we getting a divorce, so that Daddy could move, and Mommy could stay behind? (I whispered to Marilyn that sounded reasonable and got punched in the ribs for my trouble.) Some of the questions we had heard yesterday, and they wanted to know more.

Marilyn chased the girls out of the room and we both headed into the bathroom. I debated joining her in the shower, but with three kids and her parents in the house, it didn’t seem like a bright idea. I brushed my teeth while she showered, and then it was my turn. I was dressed and out of the bathroom before she was.

We answered a bunch of questions over breakfast, but then we loaded the kids on the school bus. No, we weren’t getting a divorce. (We had to explain that one to Marilyn’s parents, who got a kick out of it.) No, we weren’t moving. No, they weren’t changing schools. Dum-Dum was going to be fine. Charlie had a bunch of questions, too, but he was a bit more practical. His were related to figuring out what he could get away with while Mom and Dad were away for the next few days! He headed out the door and I just looked at Big Bob and Harriett. “He’s all yours! Don’t call us unless he gets kidnapped. I’m going to make the kidnappers pay to give him back!”

“He’s too much like his father,” said Marilyn.

“Yeah? Well, then, I’ll just do like my father and not bail him out of jail!”

Marilyn snorted. “You’ve always gotten out of jail on your own, just fine.”

Big Bob and Harriett looked at each other at this. “You haven’t really been in jail, have you?”

I just gave them a wicked grin. “So many times, I’ve lost track! Five or six times, at least! Ask your daughter someday.”

“Don’t get me involved in your legal shenanigans! Bail yourself out!” Marilyn answered, really making her parents worry.

“We need to pack.” I grabbed the luggage from the utility room as Marilyn loaded the dishwasher, and I dragged the luggage into our bedroom. We weren’t going to be gone all that long. Today was Thursday and we would fly home on Monday. Just long enough to work on our tans, engage in repeated mindless sex, and drink a lot of rum, all out of the reach of reporters and Andy Stewart. At least we hoped we would be out of reach of everybody. Henry Donaldson’s talk last night made me wonder.

Packing was simple, at least for me. Some khakis and Hawaiian shirts, a sport coat and a couple of dress shirts for going out to dinner, a pair of socks or two, and not much else. I was wearing khakis and a Hawaiian shirt, and deck shoes without socks. Marilyn packed light, too, at least as light as she ever packs. She had two outfits per day, plus spares! No bras or panties, though. I teased her about that, and she showed me her bag. Then she sent me out of the bedroom since she needed to prepare for the trip. “What more do you need to prepare for?” I asked.

“I’m taking a bath and shaving,” she said. “All over!”

I swallowed hard and finished packing my bag and the hanging bag and dragged them out to the living room. About an hour later Marilyn came out of the bedroom wearing a calf-length sundress with a halter top and a row of buttons down the front. She had on some high-heeled sandals. “You should wear a jacket. It’s cold out,” said her mother.

She nodded. “I can leave it in the car at the airport. We’re leaving you the van. We’ll take Carl’s Cadillac to the airport.”

Or not. Promptly at nine, the doorbell rang, and we opened it to find a pair of security people standing there with Henry. Out in the driveway I could see a small gray limo idling. “I’d like to introduce Joe Bonnano and Marie Telluride. They’ll be going with you to the Bahamas. In addition to your personal security, they’ll also be examining security at your home there. Joe used to do diplomatic security for the State Department and Marie was in the FBI.”

That seemed impressive enough. Big Bob and Harriet were a bit concerned, though. “Is there a problem? Have there been any threats?” she asked.

Henry responded, saying, “Nothing of the sort. We simply talked it over and we plan to increase security on the Buckmans. Now that the Congressman is in the public eye, there might be some potential problems in the future. We just want to be ready.”

I wasn’t sure how reassuring that was to my in-laws. He was still talking to them as we kissed the kids good-bye and hustled out the door. “Let’s go before they get nervous,” I said.

We were directed to the limo, and tossed our bags in the trunk, alongside two other large suitcases, presumably belonging to Joe and Marie. Joe was a big beefy guy who looked like an Italian Mafia hitman, but I knew the State Department wasn’t hiring thugs, so he had to be smart. Marie had that serious professional look I’ve occasionally seen in businesswomen who decided their career was more important than home life. Both looked like they could clean up nice and accompany us anywhere we needed to go.

Twenty minutes later we were at the Westminster airport. It was about 9:30, and there was a G-II sitting on the tarmac. I didn’t see any other planes ready to go. “I hope that’s for us,” I told my wife. “Is this what you worked out with Taylor?”

We immediately got a lesson in security. Rather than just open the door and hop out, Joe told us to wait. He got out of the car, looked around briefly, and then opened the door. On the other side of the car Marie was continuing to scan the area. I knew I would get used to it, but it was a little disconcerting. Joe accompanied us inside, while Marie stayed with the car.

Normally I made the travel arrangements, but this time Marilyn had done it. I had been too busy campaigning, and we had decided that either way, we were going away. Most of all, we had a limited window to do this. In a week and a half, on Sunday the 18^th, both Marilyn and I had to be in Washington for a week of freshman orientation. It was going to be like heading back to college!

We parked at the charter office and headed inside. A fellow standing at the counter looked up at us. I recognized him as a pilot we had used before. “The Buckmans, right?”

“You remembered,” I said.

“It’s not hard to when you’ve been on the news so much lately. Ready to go?”

“I’ve been ready! I need a vacation after all this!” I replied with a snort.

He laughed at that. “I bet you do. Well, if you have any luggage, let’s get you loaded up.” He came around the counter and followed us out to the limousine. He grabbed the suitcases while I carried the hanging bag. Marilyn took off her jacket and tossed it on her seat, grabbed her purse, and headed towards the plane. Our security detail each grabbed a suitcase. I patted my pants pockets and confirmed I had our passports, and we headed towards the G2. Ten minutes later we were settled in and climbing to altitude.

Once we were level, a chime rang, and the pilot came on, announced our remaining flight time, and said we had some champagne cooling in the fridge. I smiled over at Marilyn. “You and Taylor have everything planned I see.”

“I have to admit, this really beats flying coach,” replied my wife. She unbuckled and went forward. A small refrigerator was built into the forward bulkhead, and she retrieved a bottle of champagne and brought it back to me. Then she went forward again and found where the glasses were.

I turned to face our security team. “I don’t know if you’re allowed to partake, but you’re invited, I guess. Or is that verboten? I’ve never really had bodyguards before.”

Joe replied, “No, that would really defeat the whole purpose, wouldn’t it? Don’t mind us, though. Feel free to have a drink.” Marie simply smiled.

“Uh...” I glanced over at Marilyn. I guessed another round in the Mile-High Club was out. I pointed at the seats in front of ours, which were facing rearward. “Come on up here, we need to know how this works.” I turned back to face the front of the plane, and they unbuckled and came forward. Joe sat down in front of me, and Marie sat in front of Marilyn.