"I'm doing good, actually, but I never turn down a chance to be in the kitchen. I have yet to not learn something while I was there - whether it was a new recipe or cooking method or just the latest gossip."

Esmeralda smirked at Ruby, knowing she would go along with the tease. "See, I told you the kitchen was better than those rag mags you like to read in the checkout line." Ruby hip-checked her and they laughingly made their way into the kitchen. A hand on Saphira's arm made her hang back with Brianna and she arched a brow in silent question.

"How is Es... really, Saphira? I gotta tell you - she scared the lot of us on the floor the other day when she missed work."

Saphira sighed. "She scared me too, but we're taking it one day at a time. It's all we can do at this point. But thank you for asking, Brianna. It's nice to know that folks care."

Brianna smiled. "I think you'll find that Es has a lot of friends that care. Now c'mon," she instructed, linking her arm with Saphira's. "We better get in there before Es decides we've gotten lost again."

"Too late," Esmeralda said with a soft laugh as they stepped from the living room. "I've already figured out that the two of you are working on some sort of government conspiracy cover-up." She narrowed her eyes at them. "But I'll figure it out."

Saphira leaned forward and brushed Esmeralda's cheek with her lips. "Just remember to have mercy when you discover we're plotting to take over the world by means of ice cream infiltration."

Her words and deadpan delivery got her laughter and Saphira grinned in response. Then Esmeralda swatted her on the behind and shook her head. "Ice cream infiltration indeed. Maybe you should see if Ruby needs some help."

"Yes, dear," Saphira and Brianna chimed in sync, bursting into giggles as they crossed into the kitchen. Ruby just looked at them; Esmeralda shook her head and went to follow them when a knock sounded on the front door.

She frowned, but called out, "I've got it." Then she stepped to the door and looked out the peephole. "Oh boy," she muttered. "This could get interesting."


Chapter XXXIII

Charisma groaned as the early morning light from the partially open curtains landed squarely on her face. She wiped her eyes, blinking furiously at the burning sensation she felt coursing through them. She pulled a pillow on top of her head, hoping the world would pass her by for a little while so she could grab a little more sleep. Then she heard Adam stirring and groaned again. This time, however, she flung the pillow off her face and rolled to the edge of the bed, mumbling and cursing under her breath about her stupidity the night before. There wasn't one part of her not protesting, and most parts were doing so on a number of levels.

She shifted slowly, wincing as her body snapped and popped with every movement. When she was finally in an upright position, she twisted her back, realigning her spine bone by bone. Then she turned the other direction and the album caught her eye.

With a sigh, she pulled it towards her and let it fall open of its own volition. Not surprisingly, it fell naturally to the page she'd spent the better part of twenty years and a good portion of the prior evening simply staring at. Reverently, she slid the photograph from the book and gazed at it, gently tracing her fingers over it.

Charisma took a shuddering breath and blinked the tears from her eyes when she heard Adam's footsteps running down the hallway in the direction of her bedroom. Carefully, she eased the picture back into its protective plastic sleeve and closed the album... just in time to turn and catch her son as he leaped in her direction.

"Oof!" she gasped, though the sound was lost in Adam's laughter.

"MAMA!" he squealed, holding her face in his hands and pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek. Charisma held Adam tightly and brushed a kiss over his hair.

"Good morning, Adam! How is mama's big boy today?"

"GOOD!" Adam confirmed as he leaned back lo look his mother in the eye. "Hungry," he added with an impish grin, knowing Charisma would return his smile.

"Oh, you are?" she queried, a smile turning up the corners of her lips even though she could still feel the tears burning in the back of her throat. "Well maybe we should see about getting breakfast then, hmm, little man?"

"PANCAKES!" Adam voted loudly and Charisma winced as he had determined to cast his vote right next to her ear. She had a passing thought to wonder why it was kids in general and her offspring particularly felt the need to shout to be heard. Putting it down to a desire to ensure they were heard, she shook her head and set Adam on his feet.

Before she could move to stand, Adam's attention was taken by the album still resting on the bed and he naturally gravitated towards it. Adam grabbed for it, but Charisma quickly moved it out of his reach. "No Adam," she commanded firmly. He looked at her and moved towards it again. "NO, Adam," she reiterated, her voice firm and her eyes sharp.

Adam's blue eyes watered and his bottom lip quivered. Charisma sighed. There was a reason she had a nanny, and right now she was wondering why Ame wasn't a live-in employee. She sat back on the bed, setting the book to one side of her body and lifting Adam up to sit on the other, groaning silently as her body protested her treatment of it. He cuddled into her and she hugged him gently.

"Adam?" she said softly. He looked up at her and stuck his finger in his mouth. Charisma just shook her head. She was fairly certain she could blame this on the 'Mother's Curse' her own mother had imparted to her numerous times during her childhood. "Honey, would you like to see Mama's pictures?"

Adam grinned and nodded his head vigorously. "YETH!" he lisped around the finger still embedded between his lips. Charisma shifted her hand around until she was able to gently grasp it and pull it from his mouth.

"If you're mama's big boy, you can't keep your finger in your mouth." She paused, but his eyes never left hers. "Okay?"

"KAY!" he answered loudly again and she winced again. She was going to have to talk to Ame about teaching Adam to use his inside voice. Otherwise, she was going to need a hearing aid before she had another birthday at this rate.

"A little softer please son... Mama's sitting right here and you only need to use your inside voice. I can hear you just fine, all right?" Adam nodded his head seriously. "All right then," tickling him and making him squeal. "Now, let's go fix some pancakes."

"Bring book?"

Charisma rolled her eyes out of sight. She'd been hoping he might forget about that little detail, but she nodded her head. "We'll bring the book, but we have to eat and clean up before we can look at it. These pictures are very important to Mama and I don't want anything to happen to them. So you're not allowed to touch them or look at them without me, okay?"

"Okay," Adam said agreeably, standing up and tugging on Charisma's hand until she did as well. Then with a smile, she scooped up her photo album, took Adam by the hand and together they headed for the kitchen to make breakfast.

************

It took a little longer than Charisma had anticipated - mostly because there had been a fight with the flour that she and Adam had sorely lost. So after eating, she wiped the sticky from Adam's hands and face and gave him a book to read while she tackled the disaster area that her kitchen had become. She just hoped it was clean enough that none of her staff would notice anything tomorrow. Because she knew that while most of her office staff was afraid enough of her that they minded their business, most of her home staff had been with her since she'd come to Washington. They wouldn't hesitate to speak up.

"It's my house," she grumbled to herself as she wiped the counters for the third time. "It shouldn't matter that I made a little mess," knowing there was no way she was going to explain the missing five pound bag of flour. "I'm a United States Senator for God's sakes!" wondering who exactly she was trying to convince. She shook her head and gave a wry smile. "Time to go clean up the people involved in this debacle," muttering to herself.

Charisma lifted Adam from his chair and he immediately wrapped his arms around her neck. "Mama?" his voice rising in question. "Book?" pointing at the album that had been carefully wiped clean and now sat resting on the kitchen counter.

"After we clean up, honey," she promised him. "We don't want to mess the pictures up," shaking her head and smiling when he gurgled in laughter as flour dusted down from her hair.

"You funny, Mama."

Charisma hiked an eyebrow at him. "Oh you think so?" shaking her head at him again.

"Yes!" he chortled with childish glee, shaking his own head at her in return.

"All right then, let's go get a shower. I think it will be the quickest and most effective." And with that, they headed upstairs and disappeared into the master bathroom.

************

When they came downstairs again, Charisma was happy to note that it was almost a decent hour of the morning and she felt a lot better having stood under a hot shower for a few minutes. Adam held her hand as the slowly made their way back to the kitchen, then waited for her to pick up the album. Without hesitation, she grabbed the book and moved down the hallway to her study.

Adam looked around carefully - he wasn't allowed in this room unless his mama was with him. He had his own corner for the very rare times he had to be here, but there were too many things in Charisma's home office that could get him and Charisma into trouble if Adam messed with them. So it was easier just to keep him out of this room most of the time.

But today was a little special, and Charisma felt better about sharing her pictures with Adam in the privacy of her study, even if they were the only ones home.

She took a seat on the small couch in the room and Adam scrambled up beside her. She placed the book on her lap, letting him stroke the soft leather cover. He looked up at her and smiled. "Soft," he proclaimed, stroking it again.

"Very soft," she agreed. "Would you like to see the pictures?"

"Yes," he said determinedly. She smiled and slowly opened the book. She had no idea they were no longer alone in the house.

************

When Kent had finished at the theatre the previous evening, he realized he had missed another call from Charisma. It troubled him though he was confident nothing was wrong with Adam - Charisma would have had no compunction about disrupting his show if something had been wrong with their son. Still, the fact that she had called him a second time in a week was enough to get his hackles up. The fact that he couldn't divine a legitimate reason for the contact made him more uneasy than he cared to admit.

Kent Rockwell had long ago figured out that he was a convenient prop for Charisma Tagherty. Not that he believed she didn't care about him - she did... he was fully convinced of that fact. But she didn't love him... she never had. He'd known that when they'd discussed marriage, but he was willing to overlook that one glaring flaw in what was otherwise a pretty perfect picture. After all, Charisma was beautiful, smart, powerful, wealthy in her own right and his mother adored her. Coupled with their compatibility and her desire for a child and his for an heir, it seemed like a perfect arrangement to agree to marriage when she'd proposed it.

Now, however, he wondered more and more frequently if they had both given up too much with far too little return. He wouldn't change anything if it meant losing Adam in the process - for despite their rocky start, father and son adored one another and Kent doted on his son at every given opportunity.

So with every nerve ending screaming in discord, he arranged for his understudy to be available over the next couple days and he headed home to see if he could figure out what the hell was going on.

************

Kent arrived home and given the earliness of the hour, crept into the dark kitchen with the intent of fixing himself a cup of coffee. Then he noticed the plates and a light dusting of flour in the sink and surmised that Charisma at least was already up for the day. He smiled grimly and bypassed the coffeemaker, only to be brought up short by the photo album that still sat on the countertop.

His curiosity got the better of him and he opened it? only to find himself staring into the face of his wife twenty years prior. He studied the photograph carefully, noting she looked happy. He realized as he gazed at it that he'd never seen that expression on her face since he'd known her.