We are in Newport in September. With no urgent business anywhere else, we’ve stayed on until the very end of summer.
Jack wants Topper to come work for him in the Senate.
“Do you want to?” I ask as we sit down to dinner on our first night back.
“I told him I’d think about it,” Topper says, passing me the salad. “I wanted to talk to you first.”
“What do you think?” he asks.
“I think you should do whatever you’re most drawn to,” I say, meeting his eyes.
“He’s going to be President one day,” Topper says quietly.
“I suppose he could be.” I reply. Then, “You’ve always wanted to make a difference.”
He sits in silence, weighing it up.
“I think I might do it,” he says at last. “If you’re in.” He takes my hand.
“I’m not the boss of you,” I tell him. “But I’ll support you, whatever you decide.”
“Thank you,” he says, kissing my hand.
“Do you mind?” He looks toward the hallway, where the telephone sits on the console table.
“Of course not,” I say.
Topper steps out to the hall and calls Jack, telling him he can start in a few weeks.
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.”
When he returns, he looks almost boyishly pleased.
“Thank you, darling.”
I get up. “Congratulations.” I hug him. “This calls for a celebration.”
In the kitchen, I take a bottle of Pol Roger Brut Réserve from the icebox and two glasses from the shelf. Returning to the dining room, I hand Topper the bottle.
“This will do,” I say, and pour us each a glass.
“Cheers,” he says, raising his. “To the future.”
My novel GREAT ARE THE MYTHS will be serialised (one chapter each day) over the summer of 2026. If you would rather listen to the audiobook, the full story is available for free on all the usual platforms. Info and links HERE
My World of Interiors 