The Prince of Nantucket: A Novel

1

Teddy Mathison shot out of the limo into a wild stampede of enthusiastic supporters and a mad crush of media. As he strode toward the battery of microphones outside the Walt Disney Concert Hall—Frank Gehry’s dramatic architectural triumph, with its billowy silver curves—a cheer went up from a contingent of female groupies who’d begun appearing at his campaign events. The press had dubbed them Teddy’s Steadies.

This day, this crowd, and this building were the perfect backdrop for a candidate known for his out-of-the-box charisma. Security created a corridor for Teddy, who worked the crowds on either side, smiling broadly, keeping up an ongoing engaging banter while hastily signing objects and scraps of paper as they were thrust at him.

Observing the hoopla from the sidewalk, Judith Mackey, a forty-year-old powerhouse brunette, couldn’t help but marvel. It had been like this at every stop since Teddy threw his hat into the race to become his party’s candidate for the U.S. Senate. The savvy campaign manager who could have been the head of a movie studio but chose instead the even more cutthroat world of politics knew she had a winner the minute she signed on. Not only was Teddy a respected defense attorney, but he was also blessed with movie-star good looks and a knack for saying the right thing at the right time. On top of that, he possessed the it factor: Men wanted to be around him; women wanted to have his baby.

Even so, Judith knew only too well that under normal circumstances Teddy wouldn’t be in this position. With the incumbent, Fitz Brady, felled by a sudden debilitating heart condition, it would normally fall to the party pols to handpick someone to run in the upcoming fall election. Several congressmen had been waiting years for the promotion. Yet the free-spirited Senator Brady had surprised everyone by publicly calling for a special late-summer primary to allow the voters to decide for themselves who should run in his stead. While Teddy Mathison was a natural, Judith had harbored one fear about his candidacy.

And the latest polling results an aide had just handed her were confirmation that she’d been right.

2

His breath coming in spurts, Teddy made his way up Nob Hill surrounded by other runners and trailed by a host of photographers. He might have been relishing the attention, but his campaign manager was positively giddy. Having Teddy take part in the Women’s Breast Cancer Network’s 10K run in San Francisco had been Judith’s idea. Sure, the candidate’s good looks and aura of power were an aphrodisiac for some. But the hard-driven campaign manager knew that others were suspicious of Teddy. Events like the cancer run and the upcoming appearance before the Women’s Political Caucus in San Diego were meant to show the empathic Teddy, in touch with women’s issues and concerns.

I can’t believe you’ve had me doing phone interviews while running this race, Teddy huffed into his headset as he climbed the hill.

Did I tire you out that much last night? Judith quipped into her cell phone as she studied his beaming image on a monitor set up at the finish line.

There you go, Teddy teased, tossing a thumbs-up at a camera, making a joke of our ‘recreational proclivities.’ And, by the way, I’d appreciate it if we could just lie there for a few minutes afterward without having to talk about the latest polls.

The campaign manager glanced down at a report. You boys have been doing it for thousands of years, right? Call me a convert. News cycles move fast. We have to move faster. Postcoital niceties are a luxury we can ill afford. She signed off on the report and held it out for an assistant.

"How about we ill afford those little precinct breakdowns you whisper in my ear while we’re doing it, Teddy joked, flashing his trademark grin at a group of women screaming his name. Is that some kind of aphrodisiac for you or do you just have to keep busy?"

What can I say? Judith shrugged. "I’m a multitasker. Now, good news or bad news?"

Neither, Teddy grunted, smiling over at three attractive women holding one of his campaign signs. I’ve got to focus on the crowd. I might spot my next great relationship.

You and a relationship? Please, Judith said, looking first at the news crews then down at her watch. You’re not the type, Teddy. It’s part of your perverse appeal with the ladies.

I’m not buying that, Teddy said with a shake of his head. "I just need the right woman. The question is, does she exist?"

God knows, there’s no ‘right’ man, Judith mumbled, distracted by an e-mail she was sending. "Why should She have created a ‘right’ woman?"

You think Rove mocked Bush this way when he was running his campaigns? Teddy sighed.

And then some, Judith teased, studying a message on her BlackBerry. "Relationships, Teddy, are for other people. Those willing to ‘let go.’ People who settle. You and I live by a different code. We’re ‘no-strings’ people. We can’t be bound. She glanced at a note handed to her by an aide, nodded, and handed it back. That’s what keeps us from making foolish commitments we have no intention of honoring. She paused. Unless, of course, it wins votes. Then, what the hell?"

"A campaign manager who is sexy and devoid of principles, Teddy bantered. How can I possibly lose?"

One way, Judith said, sliding into her concern with the latest numbers. Latest data shows you’ve got a fourteen-point lead over Emerson. Seventeen over Hoyt.

Wow, he said, acknowledging well-wishers on the curb. What could be bad?

Judith turned around and gazed off at a father hoisting his kid on his shoulders for a better view of the finish. Your family values numbers are coming in low. It’s probably the divorce. People like to see their politicians married, for some perverse reason. The point is, you’ve got to let me—

No, he said, knowing full well what she was going to say.

Teddy…?

I said no.

She’s your daughter, for crying out loud, Judith pleaded. Let the people see a few photographs of you playing the dutiful dad. Buying her ice cream. Biking together at the beach. Would it kill you? Women voters eat that right up.

A roar went up as Teddy passed a group holding a Mathison campaign banner. He pumped his fist. We’re not putting Zoe on parade to score some political points, he barked through his smile. She’s thirteen, Judith, and she’s off-limits. Got it?

Judith grimaced and shook her head. You’re making a mistake.

Judith…? he spat, picking up the pace as he crested the hill.

Yeah, she shot back brusquely, not used to losing. I’ve got it.

Good, he gasped as he raced toward the finish line. Now find out who that cute blonde in the Stanford T-shirt is just ahead of me.

Judith caught sight of the stunning twentysomething completing her race.

Forget it. You’d never keep up with her, she needled, flipping the phone shut.

Coming across the finish line, covered in sweat, enjoying applause and congratulations from the organizers, Teddy tossed his headset to an aide, posed for the cameras, and joked with onlookers. As he toweled off, he spotted the blonde a few yards away. She was boldly checking him out, her body glistening with the aftereffects of her run. Grinning, Teddy nodded in her direction, his breathing still ragged. He was about to make his way over to her when an aide ran up, a cell phone in his outstretched hand.

It’s for you, the young man said. It sounded like it was kind of important.

Reluctantly, Teddy turned away from the blonde and did something he would immediately regret.

He took the call.

3

The strident voice of his older sister, Joanna, barreled at Teddy through the phone.

The Alzheimer’s has gotten worse. We’re taking her to the island for the summer. You need to stop whatever you’re doing and come see her now.

Look, Jo, this really isn’t a good time…

It’s never a good time, is it, Teddy?

Teddy waved at some of his supporters, flashing a thumbs-up for the cameras. Jo, what do you want from me? I send you money, just like always. You get her what she needs.

What she needs is for her only son to get his ass to Nantucket so he can spend some time with her before she’s gone, Joanna said tartly. Her hold on reality is slipping away, Teddy.

I can’t believe you expect me to do this, Joanna. Teddy turned and caught Judith’s look of concern as she huddled with several aides twenty feet away. You know better than anyone how I feel about her, he said quietly, signaling his campaign manager that there was nothing to worry about, though he knew that couldn’t be further from the truth.

I’m not asking, Teddy, his sister stated firmly. We’re way past requests.

Teddy gazed out at the beckoning waters of San Francisco Bay. It’s incredible what you’ve done for her, Jo, he said, as a young girl slipped into the cordoned-off area with paper and pen. But look, we all make our choices… He bent down and scribbled his name, patting the kid on the head, aware every minute of the position of the cameras.

Right, Joanna snapped. Some of us take care of those we love, while others move thousands of miles away so they don’t have to.

Jo, Teddy soothed, trying to placate her. Be reasonable. I’m in the middle of a primary here. Your little brother might be the next senator from California. How about that? he boasted. Maybe you need to hire somebody full-time. The money is not a problem.

What kind of world are you living in? Joanna cut in. I’m telling you our mother is losing her hold on reality. She’s your mother, too, Teddy, like it or not. I’m not going to be grateful for the money and go away.

Jo, listen to me…, Teddy begged, feeling the battle going badly.

"No, you listen to me, Joanna shot back. My marriage needs attention and I can’t remember when I last had a break. I am exhausted and she is in need. So you are going to come to Nantucket and be with her for the next two weeks or so help me, Teddy…"

Come on, Jo, Teddy teased. We’re not kids anymore. What are you going to do to me, take away my ice cream like you used to?

No. I can do better than that, Joanna said, her voice steady and firm. ‘Have you heard about the hotshot California senatorial candidate who can’t be bothered to come to the bedside of his dying mother?’ What’s your guess, Teddy? she taunted. "You think a reporter or two might be interested in that story?"

Teddy stood motionless, stunned. Jo, I’m your brother, for God’s sake!

"You get to the island by the weekend, Teddy, or I will make calls to CNN, Fox News, and USA Today. It won’t be pretty."

Jo!

By the weekend or else, she warned. "For once in your life, Teddy, show up."

4

Back in L.A., Teddy paced the beautiful stretch of sand known as the Malibu Colony, Judith trailing behind. It wasn’t the expensive mix of modern and classical architecture lining this exclusive slice of beachfront that had drawn him here. Over the years, he found that this seashore had an almost magical appeal; it was here that he would plot out the final arguments he would make to a jury or ponder major decisions in his life. The quiet, the sand on his bare feet, and the glorious view of the ocean helped him think more clearly, something he was having trouble doing at the moment.

You’re not hearing me, Judith called out, zigzagging to avoid the surf. "Think of the angle: ‘Candidate leaves the campaign trail to rush to the bedside of his dying mother.’ I mean, hey, it’s a pity she’s sick, but are you kidding? This story and a few choice photos and your family values numbers shoot through the roof."

You don’t get it, Judith, do you? I just can’t be around my mother. There’s history there. That’s all I’m going to say. He lowered the bill of his baseball cap and walked away.

His campaign manager chased after him, waving the heels she was carrying for emphasis. Look. I get that your mother’s not your favorite person. I’m not asking you to forgive her for whatever she did to you. But, hey, we don’t all get a happy childhood.

Teddy stopped, fixing her with an icy glare, then turned his attention to the water.

You’ve got a real shot at the Senate here, Teddy. You can’t afford to have your sister going to the press. Way I see it, you fly in there, spend a little time, get a photo or two, and come right back. Sis is happy. The voters are impressed. Everybody wins.

Digging his hands deep into his pockets, Teddy scanned the waves moving toward him and imagined them carrying advice. Talk to me, he whispered. A sinking feeling gripped him. He couldn’t fathom setting foot on the island where, so many years ago, no thanks to one parent, he had lost the other.

Here. Judith gestured, calling up the campaign date book on her BlackBerry. You fly out day after tomorrow, Friday, that’s June fourteenth, right? You stay a few days, a week, and you’re back to campaign and then address the party movers and shakers on the twenty-eighth. She paused. Strange. What’s this ‘Z’ with a line through the next two weeks?

Christ, it’s my daughter, Zoe. I get her full time only two weeks a year, always at the end of school. She’ll be with me starting this weekend, Judith! This is not happening. He began walking again. It’s been three years since the divorce, but Zoe still treats me like I’m some criminal. It’s brutal. I can’t have her with me on that island when I face my mother, Judith. I’m telling you, I’ll never survive!

What’s the problem? Judith asked, shrugging it off. You just tell your ex you need to postpone.

Oh, really? Teddy said, painfully amused. You haven’t met Miranda, have you, Judith? He exhaled sharply. She’s you. Only with principles. He stared back out at the ocean. That and one helluva grudge.

Judith’s eyes opened wide. Whoa, she said, duly impressed.

5

Un-fucking-believable!"

Standing in the foyer of the spacious Brentwood home he’d ended up paying for twice—once when he’d purchased it as a newlywed, the second when he lost it as an asset in divorce proceedings—Teddy faced off with his ex-wife.

Zoe’s with you full time, what, two weeks a year and you can’t even handle that? Miranda sputtered. How are you ever going to handle the needs of the entire state of California?! She pushed her honey-blond hair behind her ears.

Teddy threw up his hands, pleading his cause. My mother is dying, Miranda. What do you want from me?

Your mother? She half-choked on the word. "You mean the mother I never even met in the twelve years we were married? That mother?"

Teddy stared at her for a moment, determined not to endure yet another lecture. Whatever. Look—he shook his head—I didn’t come here to fight. This is an emergency and I have to postpone with Zoe. We’ll set something up after the primary. That’s just the way it is.

As she stood defiantly before him, hands on slender hips, Teddy couldn’t help noting that the Pilates workouts and yoga his alimony was helping to pay for were having an effect. Not only did she have more energy, if such a thing were possible, but her new physique gave rise to the unsettling notion that, if it came down to it, she probably could take him.

Miranda crossed the inlaid cedar floor until her face was inches from his. "Let me tell you the way it is, Teddy. Zoe’s therapist says your daughter is at risk. She’s moody and withdrawn, and, God knows, she doesn’t much care for you and the way you handled yourself during the divorce.

"Now, I don’t give a damn whether you win the primary or end up a trivia question on Jeopardy!, but I do care about our daughter. She isn’t a line item on your agenda that can be postponed. You need to spend time together, and if you have this sudden need to fly off to Nantucket and do your duty to your mother then that means Zoe