The Longer The Fall by Aviva Gat (best new books to read txt) 📗

“What can I say?” Madeline smiled back at him, giving his masculinity a huge boost. “It’s been a long week.” It truly had been. Madeline thought back to the blackmail, the rumors of her being vetted for a vice presidency run, the whirlwind days in DC. She was ready for a quiet weekend at home with her family. One without politics, or appearances. Where she could just enjoy being a woman, mother, and wife to a truly wonderful man, even if he wasn’t the best in bed.

Chapter 7

“What about a picnic in the park? Or a trip to the zoo?” Brandon suggested to Madeline the next morning when they were still in bed. Madeline was wearing her pink plaid pajamas, which she had put on the previous night after the necessary twenty minutes of post-sex naked snuggling. Brandon had also put on a pair of boxers—sleeping naked was something for carefree young lovers, not parents of two children who could easily surprise them with an early morning visit.

“Picnic,” Madeline responded after taking a moment to think about her choices. “I feel like I just spent the last three days in the zoo.”

Brandon laughed. “It was that bad, huh?”

“I’m not sure I’d say bad, but it’s definitely a jungle,” Madeline responded, thinking about the hours in senate hearings, the meetings, the networking events that filled her days in DC. She’d rather not think about them now, she decided, pushing everything to the back of her mind. It could all wait until Monday.

Suddenly they heard a scream and then a loud crash coming from downstairs. Madeline and Brandon both jumped up and looked at each other. “Sounds like we’re also living in the jungle here,” Brandon remarked. “Must be the boys making breakfast. I’ll get up and join them. You take your time.” Brandon kissed Madeline’s cheek and then leaped out of bed into their master bathroom to brush his teeth. With one hand on his toothbrush, he used his other hand to brush his hair and splash a little water on his face. Then, exactly two minutes later, he dried his face and threw on a shirt as he left the master bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Super dad, thought Madeline, smiling to herself. She was sitting up in their bed and she remained still for a few more moments. She treasured having a few minutes to herself whenever she could get it, even if she could hear Brandon and the boys yelling downstairs. There was more banging, the sounds of stomping feet, whining voices and laughter, but Madeline tried to tune it out for a few minutes.

She pulled herself out of bed and into the bathroom where she caught her eyes in the mirror. She had deep green eyes that Jane was constantly trying to complement with her outfit choices for Madeline. Her wavy brown hair, which she pulled back in a ponytail when she slept, was messy and falling around her ears. Frizz lined her forehead, which was greasy and creased with lines from too many photo opportunities in front of strong flashes. Lines also surrounded her thin pink lips and crept out from her eyes. She put her hands on her face to trace them, the maze on her face. This maze would never be seen outside of her home. For any appearances where there would be cameras, she had her make up professionally done, covering her pores, wrinkles and making her skin look even better than it had in her 20s. On the day-to-day, she made up her face herself, following detailed instructions from her makeup artist, to ensure she was never candidly caught on camera. One bad picture and that would be the first people would see when they Googled her name.

First, she released her ponytail, letting her messy hair loose to graze her shoulders. Then she combed it back into a neat ponytail at the nape of her neck. Then she brushed her teeth and washed her face, following with her routine of anti-wrinkle creams and moisturizers that she had been assured were necessary for her career’s success. She laughed when thinking about her image consultant’s seriousness about this matter. Would they ever say something like that to a man? That he needed to rub six different creams on his face throughout the day if he ever wanted to even think about the White House? Of course not. Men could get away with sun spots, wrinkles, white hair—for a man these were signs of wisdom; but for a woman, signs of obsolescence. Madeline understood she was playing in a man’s game and she had to work extra hard to succeed. She would do what she needed, go the extra mile, rub the creams on her face.

Still in her pajamas, Madeline made their bed and left the master bedroom. From the hall, the sounds of giggles and clanking in the kitchen were louder. She made her way downstairs to the kitchen, where Brandon was standing in front of the stove with pancakes sizzling in the pan in front of him. There was orange juice spilled on the counter and the boys were already snacking on Cheerios as they waited for Brandon to finish cooking.

“Maybe it’s time we tell Molly to stay on the weekends,” Brandon said with a smile. Molly was usually only with them during the week, unless they had a specific reason they needed her on the weekend. Mostly Madeline and Brandon tried to be full-time parents on the weekend. They wanted their kids to feel like they were a normal family, but it was hard sometimes. Sometimes Madeline traveled on weekends or had to attend different events. Sometimes Brandon had to work on reports or projects that hadn’t been finished during the week. Molly helped them those weekends. But when their weekends weren’t an extension of the workweek, when Madeline and Brandon slipped