Balance of Power

NINE

On that same evening, Chad and Allie Palmer were at th e White House.

    For their first effort to resume a social life, neither Kerry nor Lara felt up to a formal dinner. Instead, they invited a smallish group for a casual meal and an advance screening of a new romantic comedy with Kate Beckinsale and Hugh Grant—who, Lara had assured her husband, was a greatly inferior version of Kerry himself. Their guests were an eclectic collection of political and social friends—two of Lara's former colleagues from NBC; Clayton and Carlie Slade; Jimmy Laughlin, Kerry's former office mate from the D.A.'s office in Newark, now an official in the Justice Department; Kit Pace, his press secretary, and her partner Beth Wilson; and, after some thought on Kerry's part, the Palmers. Only at the last minute had he invited Chuck and Elise Hampton; though the Senate Minority Leader had never been an intimate, or even a supporter, Kerry concluded that now was the time to work on this. And so at dinner Kerry sat between Elise Hampton and Allie Palmer, and Lara next to Chuck.

    This worked out better than either of the Kilcannons had hoped. Lara knew Chuck Hampton from covering the Hill. They had stories in common—the drama and comedy of clashing egos and the sometimes foolish behavior of self-serious men—and after a time Lara's laughter flowed as easily as Hampton's story of the buffoonish senator from North Dakota who, inebriated, had tried to exit a closed-door meeting and entered a closet instead. 'We were speechless,' Hampton concluded. 'He just stayed in there—as though if he didn't come out, we wouldn't notice.'

    'What did the rest of you do?' Lara inquired.

    Hampton grinned. 'Waited him out, of course. The closet had no bathroom.'

    In the general laughter that followed, Kerry murmured to Allie Palmer, 'The most remarkable thing about that story is that it's true. I was in the meeting.'

    Still smiling, Allie asked, 'What did the poor man do when he did come out?'

    'It was really quite astonishing. He sat down again, as though he'd just returned from the men's room, and launched into a monologue on farm subsidies. A true example of grace under pressure.'

    Envisioning the moment, Allie shook her head in amusement. After that, their own exchanges deepened. By the end of dinner, she had told him in detail about her volunteer work in an inner-city school, a conversation which Kerry sensed helped Allie put flesh on her new life. As for Elise Hampton, Kerry had always liked her. A Ph.D. in English, Elise had a jaundiced sense of humor and a perspective on politics which, Kerry sensed, had made her more sympathetic than her husband to Kerry's internecine battle with Dick Mason.

    This proved to be true. As they walked from dinner to the screening room, Elise said wryly, 'I have an admission to make. A convenient one.'

    Kerry smiled. 'What's that?'

    'I'm glad you're here, and not Dick Mason. Every time I tried to probe his smooth veneer, I discovered the veneer beneath.' Serious now, she touched Kerry's arm. 'I'm so sorry about all that's happened, to Lara and to you. But what you're doing needs to be done.'

    This was the only mention of guns until the evening—a great success—was over, and the guests began slowly to peel off. Next to last were the Palmers. Leaving, Chad said with a smile, 'What this country needs is more free movies,' and went into the night, his arm around Allie's waist.

    That left the Hamptons. Standing near the East Entrance with the President and First Lady, Hampton informed Kerry, 'I've been counting votes on your bill, Mr. President. I think there's a fair chance that we can get to fifty- one.

    'The problem is getting to sixty, and shutting down a filibuster. Also dealing with whatever sham bill Fasano puts together.'

    Kerry nodded. 'Something else has occurred to me,' he told the Hamptons. 'Is there any sign that tort reform is on Fasano's agenda?'

    Elise glanced at her husband, who raised his eyebrows—his curiosity seemingly aroused both by the question and by the fact that Kerry had asked it. 'Not that I know about. If Fasano passes a bill with teeth, he has to know you'd veto it.'

    'True,' Kerry allowed. 'But do me a favor, if you will. If some Republican suddenly drops a tort reform bill, I want my legislative people to see it right away.'

    Hampton considered him. 'Is this about the SSA? At the state level, they've been pushing bills to immunize gun manufacturers.'

    'The thought's occurred to me. But Fasano wouldn't be that blatant—not in this environment. That was what brought tort reform to mind.'

    Once the Hamptons were gone, Lara leaned against Kerry's shoulder. 'How was tonight?' he asked.

    'Good,' she answered softly. 'Sometimes, I almost forgot.'

    Gently, Kerry kissed her. In two days she would commence a fifteencity tour to meet with victims and survivors.

* * *

'Why do it this way?' Tony Calvo asked Frank Fasano.

    The president of the Chamber of Commerce ate breakfast with Fasano in a private corner of the senators' dining room. Putting down his fork, Calvo added, 'I think these lawsuits against gun companies are abusive. But the wake of the Costello murders is the absolute worst place to start.'

    'It's also your only chance,' Fasano answered. 'You've never passed a bill. The voters don't much care. So my colleagues aren't scared or grateful enough to give you the sixty-seven votes you need to survive Kilcannon's vetoes.

    'The Chamber's been an equal opportunity donor to both Democrats and Republicans. The SSA supports us—period. I can't dump them just because you ask me to, and you'd be foolish to ask. On the whole, our caucus is far more scared of them than you.'

    Calvo glanced around the ornate room. At this early hour, eight o'clock, senators dined with lobbyists, contributors, or the occasional awed constituent—everyone but each other, Calvo reflected. 'The Democrats,' Calvo answered, 'are scared of Kilcannon, and so are some Republicans. They're right to be. Once he finds out what you're doing, he'll make it all about guns.'

    'And we'll have all the money and votes that go with them.' Pausing, Fasano spoke softly. 'How many votes do you have, Tony? Do you think the average American wakes up every morning hoping we'll immunize General Motors? Putting down the trial lawyers is not a top-tier issue for anyone but us. Guns are.'

    Calvo sipped his coffee, peering at Fasano over the rim. 'What do you want from us, Frank?'

    'What do you want?'

    'Ideally?' Calvo's tone became clipped, businesslike. 'Restrictions on class actions. Caps on punitive damages and attorneys' fees. A law allowing companies to require mandatory arbitration in place of jury trials. Ditto peer review in medical malpractice cases . . .'

    'That's all?' Fasano inquired dryly.

    'Nope. We want as many cases as possible shifted to federal court. On average, federal judges are more conservative. Also, a defendant shouldn't be liable for all damages in a lawsuit just because a codefendant is bankrupt, like Arthur Andersen after Enron tanked. And your bill should raise the burden of proof in personal injury cases.'

    'In your dreams,' Fasano responded with a smile. 'I can't get you all that, and still get enough Democrats to give us sixty-seven. But put together a coalition, Tony, and then send me a bill my staff can go to work on. Sooner