October 24, 1962
"This is a special report from CBS news."
The television flickered to life just as Walter Cronkite began to give a special bulletin.
"Good evening this is Walter Cronkite from CBS news headquarters, in New York. At its beginning this day looked like it might be one of armed conflict between Soviet vessels and American warships in sea lanes leading to Cuba. But there has been no confrontation as far as we know and some hope has been generated from suggestions of negotiations. The latest bid for a peaceful settlement came tonight from the acting Secretary General of the United Nations."
Jack let Cronkite drone on, but he could barely listen. This wasn't over yet, it was far from over. Jack picked up the nearest book and threw it across the room.
"Damn it!" Jack yelled; the book crashed into a vase, which tipped off a table and broke.
Bobby walked in, files in hand, "Anger isn't the answer, Jack."
"Anger isn't the answer?" asked Jack, his agitation increasing as each second passed, "Then what is the answer, Bobby? I don't have any."
Bobby sighed, "I know that this is a difficult time, I understand that."
"A difficult time? Bobby, I've put this country on the brink of nuclear war!"
"Now Jack, you've got to stop being so hard on yourself. Russia was the one who planted their missiles in that godforsaken country. Castro's letting it happen. That's not your fault."
"But Bobby," said Jack, putting his hands through his hair in a frantic manner, "They're only doing it because of the damn Bay of Pigs!"
Bobby took a deep breath, "I know it's bad, but I'm afraid I have some more bad news for you."
Jack shook his head, "If it's about Cuba, I-"
"It's not about Cuba," said Bobby, "It's about Jackie."
Jack stopped in his tracks, and turned away from his brother and looked out the window.
"The press is beginning to realize she's still in Virginia, despite the situation."
"Shit," said Jack under his breath.
"We could pass it off as a vacation when things weren't going to hell, but now? People are going to know things aren't alright between the two of you."
Jack pushed back tears, "It's all such a fucking mess, Bobby."
He turned to his brother, tears now openly pouring down his face, "I've ruined everything. This presidency. This country. My marriage."
"Oh, Jack," said Bobby, going to his brother's side, "Everything's going to be alright. It all seems big now, but we're going to get through this. One step at a time."
Jack finally broke down, and Bobby hugged him. Though he comforted Jack externally, internally he couldn't help but feel that everything Jack said was right. Somehow everything had flipped itself since the beginning of the presidency.
Jack was miserable. Bobby was happy. And the administration was in tatters.
February 1961
One year ago
Bobby looked around his office in the Justice Department. It all seemed so empty, so hollow. He didn't want any of it.
"Pretty nice, huh?"
Bobby turned around to see Jack and smiled, "Hey Jack."
"Hey, Bobby," Jack said as he hugged his brother, as they pulled away Jack looked at his brother.
"Is everything okay, Bobby? You don't seem quite yourself."
Bobby smiled, "I'm fine."
"Listen, I know things are bad with Ethel now but things will get better. In my darkest times with Jackie you were there to remind me that real love always prevails. That it will never fail you."
Bobby nodded, "Yeah, sure."
Jack sighed, "You know, Bobby, you're beginning to piss me off."
Bobby turned around, "What?"
"I'm your brother," said Jack, "There used to be a time when there was nothing you wouldn't tell me and now it's like we're not even friends."
"Alright Jack, do you really want to know why I'm so distant?"
"Yes!" said Jack, "All I want is for you to be honest with me."
"Alright then," said Bobby, "My marriage is falling apart because I've dedicated the past ten years of my life to you. To being not only your brother but the guy that bails you out of everything and it sucks."
Jack was taken aback.
"You know, after I finished the presidential campaign I just wanted to get away from it all. Maybe teach law, spend more time with the kids and Ethel. But you made me stay because you can't say no to Dad!"
"You can't pin this on me Bobby!" Jack had raised his voice now, angry, "You think I wanted this? No! I wanted the life you just described but when Joe died I stepped up. I did what I had to for the family. I thought that you of all people had the strongest sense of family loyalty. Maybe I was wrong."
"How dare you," said Bobby, "I've shown more loyalty to you than anyone! But you forget that I have my own family. My own wife, my own children that need my attention!"
Jack calmed down, "And I understand that, Bobby. What I don't understand is why you didn't just refuse the job."
Bobby sighed, "I don't know why. I think maybe I was so lost amidst the campaign and everything else that I didn't realize..."
Bobby trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
"I think I'm gonna go," said Jack, "See you later."
Bobby nodded, "Bye."
Jack left and closed the door, and Bobby slid down against the wall and put his chest to his knees. The office was dark now, and he was all alone.
But then the door opened, and in came Kathleen, letting light in with her.
"Hi Dad, can I come in?"
Bobby smiled, "Sure sweetie." He didn't get up, he felt comfortable with his kids. He never felt the need to hide anything from them.
"I brought you this picture to hang in your office. I thought it would make things look less bland."
Bobby laughed, "Thanks, Kick. Tell you what, how about you pick the perfect place for it?"
Kathleen nodded and found a place by Bobby's desk, positioned the picture where he could see it, and hung the picture up with some tape.
For awhile, Kathleen inspected the picture, as if suddenly critical of her work. Bobby often wondered what went through his eldest daughter's head. She was so much like her namesake it was hard to believe.
Finally, Kathleen picked up a pen and wrote something on the drawing.
Bobby got up and walked towards her, "Now Kick, why are you doing that? I'm sure the picture was fi-"
Bobby stopped mid-sentence when he saw the picture. There on the page was a little girl and her father, holding hands. The little girl was looking up at her father, who was looking down at her.
And then Bobby saw what Kathleen had written. She had drawn an word bubble coming from the girl, who told her father, "Do it for us."
Bobby looked down at Kick, who spoke, "You're a great Dad, Dad. Never forget that."
Bobby smiled, "You're so smart, Kick."
He knelt down to be on her level and smiled, "Do you know who you're named after, Kick?"
Kick shook her head.
"Well, you are named after your Aunt Kathleen. We called her Kick, too. She died before you were born, and she was a wonderful woman."
Kick smiled and hugged Bobby, "Everything'll be okay, Dad."
Bobby felt the tears coming, "But what can I do, Kick?"
"Just do what you have to do until you find an answer."
Bobby smiled and pulled away from the hug, "How'd you get to be so smart, huh?"
Kick laughed.
"Let's go get some food. I'm hungry, are you?"
Kick nodded and they walked out of the office, hand in hand.
—
Jack took off his robe and climbed into bed. Jackie was reading a book on postpartum depression. They were rare to come by, but she had managed to find one.
"I hope that's helping you," said Jack.
Jackie smiled, "It is, or at least I think so."
Jack smiled back, happy to see his wife improving. But Jackie could see that something wasn't right.
"What's wrong, Jack?"
Jack sighed, "I'm worried about Bobby. He doesn't seem to be quite himself anymore."
Jackie shook her head, "What do you expect when Joe pushed him into a job he didn't even want. It's infuriating."
"What is?" asked Jack.
"That Bobby has to have his entire life dictated to him by your father. That's no way to live, believe me."
"It reminds you of your mother and you, doesn't it?"
Jackie nodded, "Except I worry more about Bobby breaking free."
"Why?" asked Jack.
"Because," Jackie replied, "Bobby's dutiful, he likes to please. And if he doesn't break free, eventually that fire inside of will burn out."
Jackie looked up at her husband, "Jack, save him, please. Don't let that fire burn out."
Jack nodded, "I won't, I won't. I promise."
—
A secretary ran down a hallway, barely containing her shock and excitement, bumping into people as she ran, who either cursed at her or shrugged it off.
She reached another secretary's desk, "I need to see el Presidente!"
She practically screamed it, about to burst. The other secretary looked at her like she was crazy.
"Nobody sees el Presidente on such short notice. Especially not a lower secretary."
"Please, I field the phone calls downstairs, and-"
Fidel Castro sat at his desk, smoking a cigar, looking at today's papers. He saw the face of the American president, Kennedy. He wouldn't deny that he was good looking, but he just didn't understand how he had managed to capture the American people's hearts.
His secretary burst threw the door, "Ah! Maria, what do you think of this Kennedy? I don't see the appeal but I thought a woman-"
Fidel stopped when he looked up and saw the expression on his secretary's face.
"What is it, Maria?"
"El Presidente, it's Nikita Khrushchev. He's on the phone, and he wants to talk to you."
Castro processed this information, then let out a long and almost menacing laugh, "Well, well, well,"
"This is where the fun begins."