Previously in "Dulcius Ex Asperis":

NYU law professor Jefferson Thomas and bookstore owner Monique Vasquez have adjusted well to their new lives and relationship, established in the previous book. Now, now opportunities and challenges present themselves.


Monique woke with a start when Presley bowled into the bedroom and licked her hand, which had been resting near the edge of the mattress. Sure, Jefferson never turned on any lights on the rare occasions when he came home late, but that didn't matter now. With the dog out of her harness, any apendidges within tongue range were fair game.

Monique groaned.

"Sorry about that," Jefferson said, moving across the room towards the closet.

"It's okay," Monique said, withholding a groan. Studying the luminescent dials on the alarm clock, she realized it was almost 10:00. She must have just fallen asleep after at least an hour of metaphorical tossing and turning. Her mind had just begun to settle.

"How was your dinner?" she queried, wondering what else had gone on to keep him out so late.

"Fine," Jefferson replied. "The kids give you any problems?"

"No. We did fine."

It was times like this that Monique was thankful her store and his home were pretty close together. Rerouting her nurses at the last minute wasn't such a logistical nightmare.

"You were out late," she remarked.

She wasn't going to bring up what she was really thinking about. He sounded tired. Plus, she hadn't counted on being woken by Presley ... or maybe she'd hoped not to be woken by Presley.

Jefferson changed and climbed into bed next to her. Monique rolled over, listening as he set his alarm and got comfortable. The latter seemed to take a while.

"Good night," he said.

"Good night," Monique returned.

Jefferson lay in the dark, listening to her breathing as she went back to sleep. He also heard Presley settling into her dog bed in the corner.

His mind was still racing. He knew he couldn't wait to tell Monique about the dinner. He could put it off tonight since they were both tired, but the conversation couldn't be postponed beyond twenty-four hours.

His mind flashed through the past two years. He'd known Monique that entire time, but their relationship hadn't progressed right. They'd been physically separated throughout the pandemic and she'd only begun staying over again two months ago. The two had never had a serious discussion about their future, the idea of marrying, etc.

If he decided to run and actually won the Congressional seat, he'd spend weeks and months out of every year down in Washington. Sure, he could easily afford to get a small apartment just for himself down there. But the kids would need to stay in New York. He had to keep his New York residency, so that made the most sense. But someone would need to be there for them when he couldn't be. Sure, he had Anya, but she was their nanny. Right now, the woman on the other side of his bed was the most obvious choice. She would probably agree to do it, but would she feel obligated to do it?

Jefferson released a long breath and continued staring at nothing.

* * *

Anya Motkova was a machine ... more than one person had called her that. As usual, she rose from her bed at 5:00 and dressed for jogging. The rest of the brownstone's occupants had yet to be woken by this routine and her slipping out through the front door. Thirty minutes later, she was back and taking a shower.

By 6:00, she was again emerging from her mini apartment on the ground floor. Tying her long, blonde hair into a ponytail, she crossed the den and found Jefferson in the kitchen, waiting for the coffeemaker to finish his first cup of the day.

"Good morning," Anya said, retrieving a mug for herself.

"Morning," Jefferson returned with a yawn. He figured he'd gotten maybe five and a half hours of sleep before giving up on any further prospects.

"You are staying home today, right?" Anya queried, retrieving and filling her tea kettle. Though her English was very good thanks to her collegiate studies, her Russian accent and dialect still slipped through here and there.

"Yeah," Jefferson confirmed. He had no Wednesday classes this semester and chose not to keep office hours that day, allowing him to stay home. With the kids in school, most of the day was pretty quiet. He wondered how quiet and relaxing things would be after he and Monique talked.

"I will do the shopping today," Anya reported. "Do you want to add anything else to the list?"

"Let me put at least one cup of coffee inside my body before I think about that," Jefferson emplored.

"Yes."

The coffeemaker finished filling Jefferson's mug and he took it out. As he added milk and sugar, he heard Anya setting her kettle on the stove.

* * *

Monique's nurse, Elaine Williams, arrived at 6:30. Jefferson was in his home office, checking his e-mail and Anya had gone into the basement to start a load of laundry. Elaine had a key, so their presence wasn't needed for her to gain entry into the house.

The nurse made her way up to the third floor, where Monique was still lying in bed.

"Morning," she said.

"Morning," Monique returned, still deep in thought.

Their routine proceeded as usual. Elaine checked Monique's vitals and then helped her out of bed and into her wheelchair. Monique had yet to shower at Jefferson's house and she wouldn't start with that today. But, the bathroom adjacent to his bedroom had been renovated enough to let her use the toilet and sink.

When she was done in the bathroom, Elaine helped Monique change into slacks and a light sweater.

"Would you like help with breakfast?" the nurse inquired.

"No," Monique declined. She wasn't sure she could eat, even if she probably ought to consume something.

"Okay," Elaine said, putting Monique's dirty clothes in a laundry hamper in a corner of the bedroom. "Have a nice day."

Monique nodded and maneuvered her chair out of the bedroom. At the end of the hallway was something she'd initially found shocking. During their year-long, Covid-induced separation, Jefferson had gotten an elevator installed. With a city inspector reviewing the plan on-site almost a year ago and Jefferson, Anya, and the kids relocating to his parents' second house in New Hampshire for two months, he had a working elevator in his house so his girlfriend could come and go at will. He rarely used it himself and the kids were forbidden from using it.

They had been dating for about nine months when the pandemic hit. They'd never talked about moving in together and spent most of their nights together in her apartment. At first, Monique was angry he'd done this without consulting her. But she ultimately realized that, as stupid and impulsive the idea had been, it was his house. She'd come to suppose, on some level, that this was his way of expressing faith in their relationship. After all, they'd talked almost every day during the pandemic.

Conceding to this, she nonetheless forced him into splitting the costs of other necessary handicap-accessible renovations, particularly in his master bathroom and the ramp at his front door.

Riding the elevator down to the ground floor, Monique thought about the envelope again. It was still sealed and still on her desk, though the risk of it going over the edge was less precarious. She'd have to open and address its contents today , even if it would be another major expense in the long run. Not for the first time, she considered just shredding the thing and calling it quits. She wouldn't be the first and, yes, nothing lasted forever.

Monique sighed. Growing up, she'd enjoyed playing The Game of Life. This situation had never come up at any point in that game ... at least not under these circumstances.

* * *

The kids left for school with just the usual fuss and resistance. Anya headed to the grocery store soon after, offering no resistance. Jefferson had been tempted to ask when she planned to return, but he didn't want to tip her off to anything through such an out-of-the-ordinary action. He decided to just hope she wouldn't interrupt anything.

They sat across from each other at the large dining table just outside the brownstone's kitchen. Jefferson had another cup of coffee in front of him while Monique had a tumbler of tea attached to her chair, a straw situated near her mouth for easy access. Neither had eaten anything, being too preoccupied to worry about digesting anything.

"So," Jefferson said, "I assume you are curious about where I was last night?"

Monique considered the choice of words. Sure she was curious, but just because it came off as mysterious when he first told her about it.

"I assume I can rule out another woman," Monique agreed, too distracted with her own thoughts.

Jefferson managed a weak chuckle. He then took a deep breath and drank some of his coffee. He frowned. This cup's milk-to-coffee ratio was off.

"Is everything okay?" Monique asked, noticing his discomfort. "What happened at that dinner?"

For a moment, she considered the possibility of it having to do with another woman.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jefferson said. "Monique, my dinner was a meeting with the leadership of the Manhattan Democratic Committee."

"What did they want?" Monique asked. She was sure it was something about fundraising. She got enough of those e-mails herself ... all because she'd signed up to support a cause endorsed by First Lady Michelle Obama. She wasn't even sure what it was anymore. Her e-mail address had been passed along ever since.

"They're floating my name for Congress," Jefferson explained. "Adam Murphy is looking to retire and they asked me if I was interested in running."

Monique blinked, trying to place the name. She'd probably gotten e-mails from him at some point.

Jefferson described the dinner as quickly as he could. After their initial pitch. Tobias Stern and his vice chairs reviewed some potential campaign staffers and endorsement opportunities.

"Nothing's definite until after the mayoral election in November," the leader had finished. "They are interested in having me."

Monique was definitely not expecting this. Sure, Jefferson was active within the Democratic Party. She'd been his date to a few fundraising dinners and similar events. He'd told her about candidates he supported, those being anywhere from presidential down to School Board contenders. He'd never talked about running himself.

"Are you even interested?" Monique asked, deciding to focus on that last thought first. "You've never said anything ..."

"I know," Jefferson replied. "I mean, I've thought about it, but who hasn't fantasized about things like that? It was never serious before."

"So, you are now thinking about it?"

"Of course, I am. I mean, I definitely never dreamed someone would put an opportunity like this right in front of me."

Monique could admit he was making good points. She also realized why he was talking to her about this so soon in the decision-making process.

"What are you expecting from me?" she asked.

"I know we never really talked too much about ... us ... our future," Jefferson said, "but I'm looking to keep things as 'us' for the long haul."

"I'd like that too."

"This would become a number in the equation of 'us'," Jefferson explained. "If I do this, I would like your support, especially just between us. Then, there is the whirlwind standing one and a half years ahead of us, and that's only the beginning of how this would affect everything."

Monique knew he was now including Abigail, Taylor, and Matthew in his "equation". Despite her position seeming to be secure, they were less likely to be pushed out of his life than her. Still, they too had needs.

"You'd need my help with the kids," she concluded, "during the campaign and beyond, if the first part goes favorably."

"Yeah," Jefferson said. "I'd be gone much more ... pretty much a hundred percent more."

"What about Anya?"

Monique couldn't help thinking about the fact that, despite attaining U.S. citizenship, Anya had been born in Russia to Russian parents. She was going to St. Petersburg for Christmas in a few months.

"I'm not looking to kick her out, assuming she'll want to stay," Jefferson said. "But it would be three against one."

Monique nodded. Those numbers were off. They'd definitely need Anya.

"What did you tell them?" she asked. "At the dinner, I mean."

"That I need time to think about it," Jefferson replied. "They're focusing on the mayoral election anyway, so they're not pressing yet."

Monique couldn't help wondering about something else.

"What they did," she asked. "Is it even legal for them to ask you like that?"

"It isn't illegal, but someone will claim they're rigging the election. We're in a solid-blue district, so it's always a matter of which Democrat wins it. Adam Murphy's been their guy for over fifteen years. He's looking to leave, which is why they're looking for who's next. It will make some waves, but I'm not sure how high they'll be."

Monique wasn't sure what to make of that.

"You will think about it, right?" she asked. "I mean, you haven't made up your mind in just twelve hours?"

"Of course not," Jefferson confirmed.

"Then I need to think about it as well. And, you need to talk to Anya and the kids."

Jefferson wondered how she could think he had any other options.

Monique took a couple deep breaths.

"Okay," she said. "Let me know if you want to talk again."