Page 8 of Indiscretion

Like they will this morning, I’m sure. In fact, I’m sure someone’s already notified the press that Pecan will be on the move shortly, and they’re probably all racing outside to get the best vantage point to film him.

Can you blame them? It’s a ratings boon, and it’s “good news,” so people eat that shit up. Rightfully so. The world’s crappy enough. Smiling over three kids and their pet tortoise is a welcomed change.

Chris brilliantly piggybacked environmental and wildlife conservation awareness and protection initiatives onto the wave of Pecanmania that swept the country once the First Tortoise joined the household. One reason Kev bought the kids a pet tortoise, which he did while Chris, Shae, and I were overseas on an official trip, was because this particular species lives upwards of seventy years.

Although they do get rather large. As in severalhundredpounds.

After the kids lost their parents—Chris’ younger brother and sister-in-law—in a car accident that turned out to be murder, Kev was thinking in terms of permanence.

A pet they likely won’t have to bid a sad farewell to until they themselves are elderly. Fortunately, this family has the resources to properly care for Pecan throughout his life and to guarantee he’ll be taken care of in case he outlives everyone else.

Meanwhile, he’s probably the world’s most spoiled and famous tortoise.

Ironically, the kids asked for him to get a Secret Service moniker, so he’s known asPepper. It’s ironic, because Pecan was also one of thePwords on the code name list. Shae isPortia, Chris isPriest, and Kev isProphet. When the kids came to live with them, they received code names: Ivy isPetal, Myla isPixie, and Hudson isPyro.

He picked that himself. All three kids did. Hudson loves fireworks, so it suits him.

Elliot isPlumber.

I was the one who picked Elliot’s code name, because it was an inside joke between me and him and, later, Jordan, when I told him about it.

Because the man’s damn good at laying pipe, if you know what I mean.

Not that we’ve done any ofthatin the past several months.

Chris privately grumbles over the kids naming the tortoise Pecan. Apparently, there’s an ongoing marital disagreement between Chris and Shae, both of them native Floridians, regarding how to properly pronounce “Pecan.”

I’m staying out of that one despite them repeatedly attempting to draw me in and win me to their side.

I’m no idiot. Around them, I call the tortoise Pepper, like the Secret Service agents do.

While the kids really don’t need me to babysit them because they have a dedicated team of Secret Service agents following them, and they are on the White House grounds, it’s a way for me to get out of my head for a little while, to keep myself busy, and to not think about the shitstorm that currently is my personal life.

So I don’t have to think about my past or contemplate my future.

So I don’t have to think about Jordan.

Which…in this case sort of defeatsthatpurpose, but doing this still beats the alternative.

We locate Pecan in the Red Room. He’s asleep pointing face-first into the small corner formed by where the fireplace’s fascia meets the wall. Of course the fireplace is never used. It’s just for show now.

This is the damned White House. Youhonestlythink they’d let that happen and risk burning the place down? We have central heat and AC, thank you very much.

Hudson drops the handle of the wagon and walks over to the tortoise. “Ready for your fans, mister?”

Pecan pokes his head out and looks up at the sound of Hudson’s voice.

Yes, tortoises are good pets, if you have the means to properly care for them. Pecan responds, and when he’s wide awake, he’ll even sometimes come when called by name. Especially if he thinks you’re holding one of his favorite treats.

The twins help Hudson put Pecan into the wagon. They know to wait until we’re outside to swap out the tracker for the camera and activate it.

The kids are adorable. The twins are nine, and Hudson’s seven. It’s amazing how resilient they are, how much they’ve been through, and yet they’re still happy, normal kids.

As normal as they can be as members of the First Family.

They default to calling Chris and Shae “Dad” and “Mom” most of the time now. I know there’s been a discussion with the kids regarding Kev, but they know to never discuss their living arrangements with anyone. It’s been couched in terms of security and safety, but it accomplishes the same result—that the kids don’t spill the beans.

There’s another reason I opted to follow the kids down here today.