Chapter Text
Dear Caroline,
I hope this letter finds you and your family in good health. I got your Christmas card, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer for a while. Truth is, even so many years later it’s not easy for me. Sometimes, when I imagine you, your kids and your husband together, being happy, I want to go out and scream until my voice breaks. I want to live in a world where it would be possible for us.
With love, Mary.
January 19th, 1961
“To the new era of the United States!” Senator McGee’s voice was louder than the crowd noise. Mary Johnson raised her glass along with hundreds of people around her, celebrating the election of president John Kennedy.
Last couple of years Mary worked at McGee’s office, first as a secretary, then as a member of campaign management. Pursuing a political career hadn’t been in her plans just a few years ago, but somehow it turned out to be what she wanted all along. It was a convenient way out of getting married, too. “It’s not a good time now,” she’d say to her mother when she would try to organize another date with ‘a prospective young man’. “I’m always busy at work, I’m often on the road.”
“Mary!” Mr. Jenkins, their chief campaign manager, a handsome man in his 40s, appeared next to her. “I’ve been looking for you all evening.”
Mary greeted him politely. He reminded her of Hawkins Fuller in some way: same age, dark hair, same disarming charm that swept most of the women off their feet. There was one difference, though. Hawkins knew her, and was one of the few people with whom she didn’t have to pretend. Robert Jenkins was straight and the fact that his charm didn’t work on Mary somehow made him try even harder. It was a game Mary enjoyed for a while, watching him flirt unsuccessfully, but recently it’s started to become tiresome.
“You look spectacular tonight. Where is your date?” Robert asked. “No way a man would leave such a beautiful woman alone for more than one second.”
“Where is yours?” Mary answered with a question of her own. Her boss came with different women at every party, despite having a wife.
“There she is,” Robert beamed as a blond woman materialized on his right. She was Mary’s age, maybe a little younger, way shorter, even on the rather high heels she was wearing. She didn’t look like she belonged here, with her too fluffy, too pink skirt and her too tight shirt that made her chest attract every eye in the crowd. God, Mary, focus.
She looked like a doll little girls liked to play with, not like an escort of a respectful politician. Still, there was something in her appearance that didn’t allow Mary to look away from her. Something familiar, too.
“Robert, you better don’t leave me with a bunch of old pricks once again,” the woman said with a smile on her pink lips that didn’t quite reach her hazel-green eyes, which she batted at her companion. “I need more champagne.”
Did her boss just roll his eyes or did Mary imagine that?
“Mary, this is Phyllis, Phyllis, this is my colleague Mary Johnson.” Mr. Jenkins introduced them before leaving in the direction of the bar.
“Nice to meet you,” Mary held out her hand. Phyllis blinked at it but took it. Her hand was soft, elegant, so much better than the big and hard hands of men Mary had to put up with on a daily basis. When was the last time she felt a delicate female touch?
“I heard about you a lot,” Phyllis now was batting her long eyelashes at Mary, making her break the handshake and down her own drink, because her throat suddenly felt dry as hell.
“And what Mr. Jenkins told you about me?” She asked, composing herself.
“That you are professional and smart and that you have a big future in politics. Maybe you will be the first woman president.”
“No way,” Mary laughed. “I can't believe he said that.”
“I can't believe he said that on a family dinner in front of his wife,” Phyllis laughed back and pulled a cigarette holder out of her bag. “Do you smoke?”
Mary didn't, but she nodded anyway. Mesmerized, she watched Phyllis putting a cigarette between her full lips, before lighting it and taking a long drag. Repeating after her, Mary inhaled the smoke from her own cigarette. Her lungs gave out the second later and she coughed the smoke out, gracelessly, and furiously blushed.
“I haven't smoked in a while,” she said when the violent coughing stopped, ‘a while’ being about 8 years.
Last time she tried a cigarette was when she’d still worked with Fuller. When she and Tim had been pretending to date. Hawkins was ignoring him once again—or Tim was needy enough to take ‘he hasn't called me for a week’ as ‘ignoring’—Mary didn’t really care at the time. They were leaving some party they came at as a couple, and they both pleasantly buzzed with alcohol they consumed. “Okay, I want to try something,” Tim had said, winking mischievously. For a second Mary had thought he was going to kiss her, but Tim fumbled with the pockets of his jacket and fished out a pack of cigarettes. The kind Fuller smoked, of course.
Cautiously changing Tim’s name to ‘Tina’ and pronoun from ‘he’ to ‘she’, Mary shared the story with Phyllis. They laughed and talked for a while, probably longer than party etiquette allowed. Mary learned that Phyllis had a degree in law and was currently working in her father’s law firm, but dreamed of having her own one day. She learned that Phyllis had two dogs and therefore developed a love for early walks at the park. Phyllis hated sweet perfume and apples, loved sun dried tomatoes on rye bread and chocolate ice cream. By the end of their conversation Mary was stupidly, unreasonably, beyond logic and common sense, in love.
Then, Phyllis’s earlier words hit her.
“I honestly don’t know why you are here,” she said seriously. “I mean, I respect Mr. Jenkins, but you know he has a wife, right?”
She didn’t expect Phyllis to laugh, so sincere and joyful.
“Poor Katherine,” she said. “Of course I know her. Robert is my brother.”
“Oh.”
That made sense, Mary thought, as a relief washed over her. Phyllis was as attractive and charming as her brother was. They looked somewhat alike, too, with only difference—Mary didn’t want the rest of the world to disappear near Mr. Jenkins.
“Well,” Phyllis said, looking amused, probably noticing Mary staring at her. Mary felt herself blush. “As much as I want this conversation to never end, I promised Robert I wouldn’t stay in the corner all night and actually talk to people here. A party full of politicians is a great place to make acquaintances if I ever want to open my own law firm. It was nice to meet you, Ms. Johnson.”
“The pleasure is mine, Ms… Jenkins?”
“Mrs. Hall,” Phyllis corrected.
“I’m sorry.” Mary’s heart dropped in her stomach. “You’re not wearing the ring. I thought…” It was stupid, having hope that Phyllis could be into her, anyway.
Phyllis pulled the golden necklace from the collar of her shirt, revealing an engagement ring.
“He died,” she said with a sad smile. “Three years ago. Someone stabbed him with a knife for 20 dollars and a watch.”
“I’m sorry.” Mary said again.
“It’s okay,” Phyllis reassured her. “Here.” She took out a pen and a notebook from her bag and wrote something, then ripped the page out and gave it to Mary. “It’s my number. Call me if you ever want to talk about anything. Or learn how to smoke,” she finished with a smile, leaving Mary alone and utterly confused.