Campaign Trail

by J. A. Armstrong

  “If you have your way?”

  “I’d like Grant to come out to the farmhouse with Jess and meet the family.”

  Jameson nodded.

  “Does that bother you?”

  “I don’t know how to answer that.”

  “Honestly?” Candace suggested.

  “A little,” Jameson said.

  “Why?”

  “Candace, I like Jessica. I appreciate everything she has done for us and for Cooper—I do.”

  “But?”

  Jameson sighed. “She’s your former lover.”

  “And, you’re my wife.”

  “This isn’t about trusting us.”

  “What is it about?” Candace asked. Jameson shook her head. “Jameson?”

  “I’m not sure,” Jameson admitted. “Sometimes, it’s hard.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You are so many things to so many people,” Jameson said. “It’s like I told you; there are all these gaps that I can’t fill—all these parts of you and your life that I wasn’t a part of.”

  Candace made her way to sit beside Jameson. “Jameson,” she smiled. “You are a part of all of it.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes,” Candace said. “All of it led me to you.”

  “I know. I can’t help how I feel sometimes.”

  “I understand.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course, I do. Don’t you think that I wonder about all the pieces of your life that I missed? I do, you know? Although, I try not to think about it often.”

  “Oh?”

  “No offense, thinking about you twenty-five years ago is a bit unsettling.”

  Jameson laughed. “You know that I will support you no matter what.”

  “I know. I also sense that you still don’t trust Grant.”

  “I don’t know Grant. I trust you.”

  Candace nodded. “This is not going to be easy for him.”

  “I can’t imagine that it would be.”

  “He’s going to need to know that he has a place to land.”

  Jameson smiled. “And, of course, you are going to make sure he knows you are that place.”

  “Not just me.”

  Jameson sighed.

  “Jameson,” Candace implored her wife. “Grant is a good person; I promise you. I understand why you have your doubts. He’s lived his entire life with doubt—about who he is, where he belongs, what he should do. He needs to know that his faith in Jessica and I was well-placed.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “You’re the best judge of character that I know. Besides, you love him; I can tell.”

  “I do.”

  “I know. What about the kids? Candace, they are going to want to know why you never told them about Grant—why Jessica never did.”

  Candace closed her eyes. Jameson was right and she knew it. It had taken years for her children to begin to heal the rift with Jessica that Jessica’s betrayal of Candace had caused. It had taken time to rebuild trust. “I can only hope that they will understand that we both had to follow Grant’s lead and wishes.”

  “So, you’re going to tell them with Jessica?”

  “I hope that you will be with me.”

  “It’s not my place…”

  “It most certainly is your place,” Candace disagreed.

  “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous—crazy I can handle, ridiculous is something else. I need you with me.”

  Jameson smiled. “Are you sure?”

  “Jameson, honestly? I didn’t force Grant into this. That doesn’t change the fact that I feel partially responsible.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “No, but my presence in his life is the main reason he finds himself in this position.”

  Jameson shook her head. “I’m sorry, but no—it isn’t. It’s not,” Jameson said. She could see Candace mounting a protest and held up her hand. “Grant Hill is not a child, Candace. I get it. I understand that it’s been hard for him, but he’s an adult. He could’ve chosen to be honest with his parents. He could have chosen to do a lot of things.”

  “He wanted to…”

  “I’ve heard it. I hear you. He wanted to try and change things. So? That’s what you do every day,” Jameson pointed out. “And, Candace? Sometimes that means that you get hurt. You choose to stand up for what you believe when people are screaming at you for doing it, and you compromise on many things when you’d rather not. You have never pretended to be someone else. That was his choice.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Yes, it is. I get that you and Jessica wanted to protect him. I understand that he loves you both and that he has another set of parents that he doesn’t want to lose. It sucks. But you would normally be the first person to say that pretending leads no place good. I hate Lawson Klein. I think Jed Ritchie is a self-righteous asshole.”

  Candace smirked.

  “The things they do—I can’t pretend to understand the things they do. But this is as much on Grant as it is on them or you and Jessica or anyone else for that matter. He’s not a child, Candace. Even if you feel like he is one of yours. He’s not Cooper or Spencer. He was an adult when he found Jessica, and he’s an adult now.”

  Candace nodded. Jameson wasn’t wrong. Emotion often worked against rational reasoning. “Maybe so,” Candace said. “What I know doesn’t change how I feel or what I feel I need to do.”

  Jameson kissed Candace on the cheek.

  “What was that for?”

  “I wouldn’t expect it to change anything. I just think you need to be reminded that you are not responsible for everything that happens to everyone you love.”

  “Thank you. Will you be okay with this?”

  “I will be.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I can’t help how I feel either. I can control what I do about it. That was my point.”

  “Give him a chance.”

  “I told you; I will support you any way that I can. Don’t ask me not to be cautious. You’re not the only one who feels protective of this family.”

  Candace smiled. “I know,” she said. She held out her hand.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I was thinking for pizza?”

  “Pizza again?”

  “You love pizza.”

  Jameson smiled. “I do,” she agreed. “But, I was thinking maybe some chicken wings tonight.”

  “Really?”

  Jameson nodded. “My wife likes the fortune cookies.”

  “Is that so? What about what you like?”

  “I like her fortune cookies too—in…”

  Candace burst of laughing. “Lunatic.”

  “Should you add ‘in bed’ to that one?” Jameson joked.

  “Play your cards right and I will.”

  Jameson laughed. “Which cards might those be?”

  Candace swatted Jameson. “I’ll tell Drew we are going out. You see if you can corral Aladdin upstairs.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Don’t forget the cards,” Candace teased.

  Jameson snickered. She should be careful what she asks for.

  ***

  “What do you think he’ll do?” Jed Ritchie asked Bradley Wolfe.

  “I suppose that depends on how close we are to the mark.”

  “He’s definitely spoken to Reid, and we know he was looking for his birth mother years back. His college roommate gave that up easily.”

  Wolfe shrugged. “That doesn’t mean the governor is his mother, Jed. I wouldn’t go pinning your hopes on that donkey’s ass.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Pin the tail on the… Never mind,” Wolfe said. “It doesn’t fit. We cast out the line. Now we wait and see what tugs at it.”

  “Why not just float the narrative and hope for the best?”

  “Because if the narrative we float is wrong, we might just ge
t our asses pinned to the wall.”

  Lawson Klein listened to the conversation as it unfolded. He took a sip from his glass of scotch and smiled at the pair arguing a few feet away. “Float it,” he said.

  Wolfe and Ritchie looked at him with disbelief.

  “Float it. It doesn’t matter if it’s true. Some of it will stick with most people, and all of it will stick with some. Just float it. They don’t have to know who it came from.”

  “Risky,” Wolfe said.

  “Not really,” Klein disagreed. “Make something stick before she has a chance to stick it to you.”

  Wolfe took a deep breath and then nodded. “Fine. You’re the expert, Lawson. Make it happen.”

  Chapter Five

  Jameson’s fist clenched tightly as the news played in front of her. Anger swelled within her. Her jaw tightened and her face flushed.

  “That’s quite the leap,” the anchor said.

  “My source is confident that the information is accurate.”

  “If it’s true, that would mean that Governor Reid’s longtime adversary, Grant Hill is her biologica son.”

  “I’m going to kill that son a bitch,” Jameson muttered.

  “JD,” Pearl’s hand gripped Jameson’s shoulder.

  “I mean it, Pearl. I am going to beat the hell out of Lawson Klein.”

  Pearl clicked off the television and took a seat beside Jameson on the couch. “No, you aren’t.”

  Jameson glared. Pearl was sure that she had never seen Jameson as angry as she was now. Jameson’s eyes glistened with fire. It was early on in Candace’s campaign, and Lawson Klein and his crew had already chosen to cross a sacred line. Jameson had no desire to contain her temper, and Pearl could hardly fault the woman before her. She felt inclined to lash out as much as Jameson did. Pearl also understood that any emotional reaction to the current narrative would only serve to strengthen its intent.

  “Jameson…”

  Jameson hopped to her feet. She ran her hand through her hair and turned back to face Pearl. “What am I supposed to do? Take it lying down? Let them smear Candace? I won’t do it, Pearl. It’s not bad enough what that asshole has put Laura through, the crap he’s spewed about Cooper—you expect me to sit quietly by while he trashes my wife?”

  Pearl nodded. “No, I don’t.”

  Jameson was genuinely surprised by Pearl’s response.

  “I expect you to take a deep breath,” Pearl said. “We both know that this story is a bunch of hootenanny. You need to trust Candy. She can handle it.”

  “I know she can handle it!” Jameson snapped. “She shouldn’t have to handle it!” Jameson took a deep breath and collapsed back onto the couch with a defeated thud. “What the hell is wrong with these people?”

  “How much time do you have?” Pearl attempted to lighten the conversation.

  Jameson shook her head. “Is this really worth it?” she asked.

  “That depends, I suppose.”

  “Depends on what?”

  Pearl smiled. “What do you hope to gain?” she asked Jameson.

  Jameson shook her head.

  “Jameson, listen to me; Candy expected this. You know that as well as I do.”

  “That doesn’t make it okay.”

  “No, it doesn’t. It’s hurtful and it’s vicious.”

  “So? So, what am I supposed to do?”

  “Love her.”

  “Love her? I love her more than anything. That’s not enough.”

  “For whom? For you or for Candy?”

  Jameson groaned. “This is going to kill her.”

  Pearl sighed. “It’s going to fuel her,” she said. “Candy won’t take this lying down, Jameson. You have to know that.”

  “Yeah, well, I wish she would come out swinging.”

  Pearl chuckled.

  “That’s funny?”

  “No. I’m sure she wants to.”

  “I do want to,” Candace’s voice agreed from behind the pair.

  “What are you doing home?” Jameson asked.

  “Pearl, would you give me a minute with Jameson?”

  Pearl patted Jameson’s knee, made her way to Candy and kissed her on the cheek. “Be gentle with her,” she whispered.

  “Don’t expect me not to be pissed off,” Jameson told Candace when Pearl had left the room.

  “I don’t.”

  “Good. Because, Candace? If that asshole comes within a mile of me, I can promise you I will lay him out flat on his ass.”

  Candace smiled. She took a seat next to Jameson and held Jameson’s hands. “Do you know one of the reasons I love baseball?”

  “Please tell me this is going somewhere.”

  “Do you?” Candace asked. Jameson shrugged. “Baseball is a lot like politics, Jameson. When you step up to the plate, you know the pitcher is trying to strike you out. You want so badly to knock the ball over his head—to show him who is stronger, better, worthy—to hit a home run. You have to be careful not to let your eagerness make you swing wildly. If you want to win the game, you have to know how to wait for the right pitch. That’s how you take control. That’s how you win.”

  Jameson shook her head with disgust. She was in no mood for analogies and in no frame of mind to be taught anything. She wanted to deck Lawson Klein and Jed Ritchie. She wanted to step in the ring with them and show the world exactly how cowardly they both were. Even if she lost, Jameson felt sure that it would make her feel better.

  Candace squeezed Jameson’s hands. “I understand how you feel.”

  “No, you don’t,” Jameson replied.

  Candace sighed.

  This was not the first time Jameson had become frustrated with Candace’s professional life. She hated feeling helpless. There were times when playing the dutiful spouse drove Jameson mad. She wanted to protect her family. Wasn’t that part of loving them? Jameson shook her head again and pulled away from Candace. She stood up and placed a few feet between them.

  “Do you know what Pearl’s solution to this was—for me, I mean?” Jameson asked.

  Candace silently waited for her to continue.

  “To love you. That’s it. Jesus, Candace! To love you? What the hell does that even mean if I can’t take care of you?”

  Candace felt Jameson’s hurt hit her like a tidal wave. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?” Jameson was confused. “What are you apologizing for?” Jameson rubbed her eyes vigorously. “Sorry? Candace…” Jameson took a deep breath. “Don’t you understand?”

  “I’m trying to.”

  “Part of loving you is taking care of you,” Jameson said. “Protecting this family.”

  “You already do that.”

  “Really? This feels awfully familiar.”

  Candace closed her eyes and nodded. She had expected that the road to the future would be bumpy. Now, it felt much more like running off a steep cliff. “Jameson…”

  “I know. I know what you are going to say. I do. Maybe it’s enough for you. I don’t know how to make it enough for me. Do you know what it’s like to watch people take cheap shots at the person you love?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop it,” Jameson said. “Damnit, Candace; I won’t take the swing at them, but don’t ask me to feel differently. I can’t.”

  Candace smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Jameson groaned. She could feel the fight evaporating from her rapidly. Anger had a way of depleting a person. “It’s not fair for you to have to handle everything by yourself.”

  Candace laughed.

  “I’m glad you’re amused.”

  “No,” Candace said. “Is that what you think—that I handle everything alone?”

  “You do.”

  “I most certainly do not,” Candace disagreed. “You know that better than anyone. Don’t you think I would love to take to the airwaves and call those idiots every name in the book? I would; you know? I can’t. I can’t. You know that I’m right. What would that
prove? I’d feel better for five minutes and then I’d regret it. This isn’t a sprint, Jameson. This is the marathon. I told you that they would throw the kitchen sink at me.”

  “It’s a lie.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “People believe this shit.”

  “They do,” Candace agreed. “And, the people that do? I’m never going to change their minds—neither are you.”

  “See, that’s where we disagree.”

  Candace was taken back by Jameson’s response.

  “That surprises you? We disagree. Those people, Candace—they like drama and they see power differently from you. They like thuggery.”

  True. Candace nodded. “You’re not wrong,” she conceded. “I can’t let that dictate what I do.”

  Jameson let out a heavy sigh. “I know.”

  “Jameson, if this is too much…”

  Jameson shook her head. “Too much?” She laughed. “It’s more than too much,” she said. “Lying about you. Trying to paint you as a deceptive, immoral person. Candace...” Jameson took a deep breath. “It pisses me off. You’re my wife. I don’t appreciate anyone hurting you.”

  “I know. We’ve been down this road before. You’re the glue, Jameson. I need you to understand that. I need to know that you believe me. I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to.”

  “Without me? I just don’t know what I’m doing that helps.”

  “This.”

  “This?”

  “Right. Caring enough to want to fight, and loving me enough not to lash out.”

  Jameson groaned. “I hate it.”

  Candace chuckled. “You don’t say.”

  “What are you going to do?” Jameson asked.

  “Tell the truth—with a little bit of flair.”

  Jameson finally grinned. “I have no doubt. Care to share?”

  “I do,” Candace said. “But before I do, can I ask for a favor?”

  “You know you can.”

  “Just hold me for a minute.”

  Jameson pulled Candace into her arms and held her close. She felt the warmth of Candace’s tears against her neck. Sometimes, Jameson momentarily lost sight of how much Candace needed her. It often sounded hollow to Jameson—the notion that loving Candace was what Candace needed most from her. Moments like this served as a stark reminder. Candace seldom shed tears in front of her children or the public. She needed a place to let go. She needed a place where she could be Candace. Most of Candace’s time was spent playing the role of mother, grandmother, mentor—leader. All those roles were a part of Candace, but they took up so much space that most people forgot there was a woman underneath it all.