Election Day

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Election Day Page 2

by J. A. Armstrong


  A new round of cheers filled the ballroom. Candace tugged on Jameson’s hand and led her to the front of the small stage to wave to the crowd.

  “You really are something,” Jameson whispered.

  Candace chuckled. “That could mean many things,” she muttered.

  Jameson leaned into her wife’s ear. “I heard that. It means I love you.”

  Candace turned and pulled Jameson in for a sweet kiss.

  A roar of applause and whoops erupted in the room. Candace chuckled at the rosy tint that crept up Jameson’s cheeks. She waved back at the crowd one final time before leading Jameson off the stage. She stopped abruptly and took Jameson’s face in her hands.

  “What did I do?” Jameson asked.

  “I love you too.”

  Jameson let her lips brush across Candace’s forehead. “Let’s get you home.”

  “There aren’t going to be any flights to Albany tonight. I need to call David,” Candace said.

  “I know. I’ll figure out the best plan to get there.”

  “Jameson…”

  “Stop,” Jameson said. “You go back to the room and call David. I’m going to find Glenn.”

  Candace nodded her thanks. “Don’t take too long.”

  “Promise.”

  “Mom?” Michelle caught up with her mother.

  “How are you feeling?” Candace asked.

  “I think I should be asking you that.”

  “I’m all right,” Candace said as they made their way to the elevator.

  “What can I do?” Michelle asked.

  Candace put her arm around Michelle. “Having you here is enough.”

  “Mom, I…”

  “Tea.”

  “What?”

  The elevator door opened and Candace chuckled. “Tea,” Candace repeated. “I need to call your uncle. Make us some tea. That’s what you can do for me.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom—about grandma.”

  Candace offered Michelle a smile. “Me too, sweetheart.”

  ***

  “We need California.”

  Lawson Klein reclined on the large leather sofa and smiled.

  “Lawson, this isn’t a joke. I haven’t secured anything yet,” Bradley Wolfe reminded Klein.

  “You will.”

  “And, then? Jesus, did you see that?” Wolfe pointed to the television. “Listen to them!”

  Klein sat up, grabbed the remote from a table and clicked off the television. “Stop listening.”

  “Stop listening? That’s your solution? Her momentum just keeps building!”

  Klein leaned back again.

  “Lawson!”

  “I heard you.”

  “And, you’re not worried?”

  “She’s running for her base,” Klein said. “She’s not running for ours.”

  “Right. And, her base is never going to cross over to me.”

  “Not likely,” Klein chuckled.

  “This amuses you?”

  “Maybe it does.”

  Bradley Wolfe’s patience was wearing thin. Candace Reid’s momentum in the primaries had steadily gained strength. Had the Democratic party adopted a winner-take-all scenario, she would have secured her party’s nomination by the beginning of April. He massaged his brow forcefully. He’d yet to secure the nomination. That gave the governor weeks to jump into a general election strategy while he was still battling with his party. He would never garner the support of those on the left, and she would never gain votes from those decidedly on the right. That meant that a general election came down to two things: voter turnout and who could command the center.

  “I’m afraid I don’t find the humor in this.”

  Klein shrugged. “She’s got you rattled.”

  “I’m not rattled, I’m concerned.”

  Klein laughed. “No, you’re rattled.”

  “Give me something.”

  “You have everything you need. Just keep following the narrative.”

  “And what is the narrative?” Wolfe challenged.

  “Accuse her of anything and everything.”

  “And, when the press proves it’s false?”

  “Attack them,” Klein replied. “Some of it always sticks. You don’t need all of it to stick to everyone. You just need some of it to stick to enough of them.”

  “Hasn’t worked yet.”

  Klein shrugged again. “Sure, it has.”

  “And, when she comes at us?”

  “She won’t.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  Klein grinned. “She can’t. She’s running as the holier than thou candidate. That’s the liberal platform.”

  Wolfe pursed his lips doubtfully. “Something tells me they’d argue the other way.”

  “They can argue anything they like. They want to play the sanctimonious card. It’ll backfire. She won’t come at you. They’ll label her a bitch.”

  “And, when she’s attacked over and over they’ll label us misogynists.”

  Klein laughed.

  “That’s funny?”

  “It’s always better to be a sexist asshole than a bitch. Trust me.”

  Wolfe shook his head. “I hope you’re right.”

  “I am.”

  ***

  Jameson looked over at Candace. The fastest way home turned out to be driving. She was certain that Candace was exhausted. Five hours into a seven-plus hour ride and Candace had yet to close her eyes. She’d been busying herself with reading and reviewing campaign notes and news articles.

  “Candace,” Jameson called for her wife’s attention.

  Candace looked up from her tablet.

  “Maybe you should try and rest for a while,” Jameson suggested.

  “I can’t.”

  Jameson searched Candace’s eyes for some clue as to what she might be thinking. “Want to talk about it?”

  Candace sighed and set the tablet on the seat beside her. “Yes.”

  Jameson waited.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Candace confessed. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back onto the seat. “You always think there will be more time. No matter how much time passes, no matter what you know, you always think there will be more time.”

  Jameson took hold of Candace’s hand.

  “What do I say?” Candace asked.

  Jameson was puzzled.

  “To my mother,” Candace clarified.

  “Whatever feels right.”

  Candace shook her head. “Nothing has felt right between us for years.”

  “Candace, just tell her whatever you need to for you. It’s not about her right now. It’s about what you need to have peace.”

  “I just wish I knew what that was.”

  Jameson pulled Candace closer until Candace’s head fell onto her shoulder. “You’ll know when the time comes.”

  “I hope so.”

  “You will. Close your eyes,” Jameson said. “You can rest for a couple of hours. You need it.”

  “Do I look that bad?”

  “Never.”

  “Right.” Candace chuckled.

  “You look worried and tired because you are. Just close your eyes for a while.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll close my eyes too.”

  “Ah, I see your master plan now.”

  Jameson kissed Candace’s temple. “Rest. That’s my entire plan, governor.”

  Candace nestled closer to Jameson and let herself start to relax. The only way she’d found to quiet her thoughts was distraction. She had thought she was prepared for news that her mother had passed. After all, Marjorie Stratton’s quality of life had diminished measurably in the last few years. She hadn’t recognized any of her children in over a year. She had battled pneumonia three times, a bout with Shingles, and had managed to fall twice despite being relegated to a wheelchair. Her behavior was erratic and her musings seemed senseless most days. Candace had brought her to the farmhouse for a Sunday dinner that su
mmer and it had turned disastrous. Marjorie had fallen into a fearful fit, screaming that people were trying to kill her and pointing the blame at Candace. Jameson had stepped in, and to Candace’s surprise had managed to calm the older woman. The episode had shaken Candace to her core, and she had not attempted to bring her mother home since. David had experienced a similar issue at Thanksgiving. He hadn’t even been able to get Marjorie in the car. In many ways, Candace felt her mother’s life had become inhumane. Marjorie Stratton had been a debutante’s debutante. She was fastidious, her closets sized and colorized, her home pristine, and her hair coiffed and styled elegantly, and her hands manicured to perfection. Candace’s mother was a shadow of herself. Somehow, that did not seem to quell the ache in Candace’s heart.

  “Rest,” Jameson cooed.

  Candace sighed deeply. There’s never enough time.

  ***

  “Hey, babe,” Melanie answered her phone. Shell was silent on the other end. “Shell? Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Melanie’s heart sped up instantly. “Are you feeling…”

  “I’m sorry, Mel. Yes, I’m fine. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m a little tired, but I’m fine. Looking forward to coming home tomorrow.”

  “Okay? What’s wrong? I can hear it in your voice.”

  “I guess you weren’t watching Mom’s speech.”

  Melanie groaned. “I’m sorry. I was working on some things.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Did something happen with her speech? I mean, she did win; right?”

  Michelle couldn’t help but chuckle. “You really were tuned out.”

  “I’m sorry. I just want to get this stuff done before you get home.”

  “I know.”

  “What happened? You sound upset. I thought you’d be bouncing.”

  “I was until I found out about Grandma Stratton. She had a stroke earlier today.”

  “Oh no. How bad?”

  “JD and Mom left for Albany already. It’s not good. I guess they are just waiting for Mom before they turn off the machines.”

  “Shit.”

  “I know. I feel awful. I wanted to go with them. Mom refused to let me.”

  “She probably can tell that you’re tired.”

  “I am tired,” Michelle admitted. “I wish I was home.”

  “You will be tomorrow.”

  “That seems so far away.”

  Melanie rolled up the plans in front of her. “Regretting the trip?”

  “No. I just hate that I am so limited,” Michelle explained. “I know it will all be worth it. I know Mom was right. I don’t think I could have handled that car ride tonight.”

  “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

  “I promise,” Michelle replied. “I’m just tired. I think this will be my last adventure until these two arrive.”

  Melanie was relieved. She’d struggled not to hold Michelle back. The doctor’s permission for Michelle to make the trip to Pennsylvania was the only reason Melanie had agreed. She hoped that Michelle would slow down once Candace secured the nomination. Michelle was due to travel home with Glenn the following day on the campaign bus. It was a long drive, but the bus was comfortable, far more comfortable than a sedan would have been. She was positive that Candace understood that, and she also knew that Candace had been reluctant to have Michelle make the trip to Pennsylvania. She heard Michelle sigh on the other end of the call.

  “I just feel awful that I didn’t go with Mom.”

  “Your mom wasn’t thrilled with your determination to make the trip in the first place,” Melanie reminded her wife.

  “No, but this is different.”

  “Shell, you said it yourself, you need to slow down.”

  “You didn’t see Mom when they left.”

  “I’m sure she’s upset. It is her mother.”

  “Grandma was always kind of mean to Mom,” Michelle said. “Even in front of us.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t know,” Michelle mused. “Mom should’ve been so happy tonight. It’s her night; you know? I know that it’s not Grandma’s fault, but it just feels like she’s spoiling it again. Mom’s face…”

  “Your mom will be okay,” Melanie interjected. “She will. She has a lot to look forward to. Maybe it’s better that you aren’t there.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “Because maybe it is. JD will know what to do. And, besides, it would just make your mom more stressed worrying about you making that drive tonight while she tries to deal with losing her mother. At least she knows you are safe and you can get some rest.”

  Michelle chuckled. “That’s almost exactly what she said.”

  “So, maybe you should take her advice and get some rest.”

  “I will. I just wanted to watch some of the coverage first.”

  You really are a junkie, babe. “Pretty sure they will still be talking about it in the morning,” Melanie offered.

  “Yeah, but right now it’s fresh. They haven’t had time to censor everything they want to say.”

  “Don’t stay up all night.”

  “I won’t.”

  Melanie laughed. “Yeah, you will.”

  “I promise, I won’t.”

  “Good. I know you, and you’re apt to get yourself all pissed off about something someone says and then you won’t sleep at all. Go to bed, Shell. You know your mom would tell you the same thing. It’ll be there tomorrow. Let Glenn and Grant worry about what’s going on now.”

  Michelle closed her eyes. She was exhausted. The twins had been incredibly active on and off all day, she couldn’t get comfortable no matter what position she tried to sit or lie in, and her feet hurt. Nevertheless, she feared she might miss something important if she tuned out. She only had a few more weeks to engage in the campaign before she’d be welcoming the twins. Even Michelle knew that the arrival of what Melanie had dubbed “the Dynamic Duo” would change everything. As excited as Michelle was, change could be scary. For the moment, she desired to hang on to what she knew, to be in control of her body and her time. “I’ll try.”

  “Shell,” Melanie softened her tone.

  “I promise. I promise I will go to bed soon.”

  “I miss you.”

  Michelle smiled. “I miss you too. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “You will. If you’re really that worried about your mom, call her.”

  “I don’t want to disturb her.”

  “Call her, Shell or at least, text JD. It’ll make you feel better.”

  Probably so. “I’ll think about it. Do me a favor?”

  “If I can.”

  “Take the advice you gave me,” Michelle said. “Put away your work and get some rest. You’re going to need it soon too.”

  Melanie laughed. “Why is that? You’re breastfeeding, right? Kind of lets me sleep.”

  “Uh… no way. I’m putting that three-hundred-dollar breast pump to good use.”

  “If you can figure out how to use it.”

  “Ha-ha. If two lesbians can’t make that work, no one can.”

  Melanie laughed. “Only you, babe. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “You will. I love you, Mel.”

  “I love you too.”

  Michelle put her phone on the table and rubbed her belly. “She thinks I was kidding. I’m not kidding,” she spoke to her unborn children. “What do you two think? Sleep or MSNBC?” A swift kick to her ribs made Michelle chuckle. “Definitely my kids. MSNBC it is.”

  ***

  Jameson hesitated to wake Candace. She was grateful that Candace had allowed herself to slip away into sleep for a few hours. She also knew that the rest of the day would be fraught with anxiety and grief. She kissed the top of Candace’s head and jostled her gently. “Candace.”

  Candace let out a heavy sigh. “I’m awake.”

  “Listen, if…”

  Candace sat up and smiled. “I’m all righ
t—honestly.”

  Sure, you are. Jameson stepped out of the car and met Candace on the other side. She reached out and silently took Candace’s hand. Why now? She led Candace through the doors of the hospital running through a million thoughts in her mind and berating whoever might be listening to her questions for adding any stress to Candace’s life. Tonight was supposed to offer Candace a moment of celebration and happiness. It didn’t matter that there was no one to blame—not to Jameson. Maybe the universe was to blame. It didn’t seem fair.

  Candace felt tension pouring off Jameson. She didn’t require any explanation. She squeezed Jameson’s hand lightly. So protective. Often, life seemed unfair. Death was an unavoidable part of life. No matter when it arrived, it always seemed too soon. And, regardless of how many times Candace had told herself she was prepared for death’s arrival, she knew that was a lie. No one was prepared for the death of a loved one. She’d watched people die from illness and she had suffered through tragic unforeseen loss. One thing Candace knew, loss always felt sudden. She entered the elevator and allowed Jameson to press the button for the floor her brother had directed her to. She closed her eyes when the door closed and took a deep breath.

  “Whatever you need, you let me know,” Jameson said.

  Candace nodded and pressed her lips to Jameson’s cheek. “I will.”

  I hope so.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Calling me at 7:30 A.M. the day after Candy clinches? This can’t be good,” Dana answered Glen’s call.

  “Depends on your view of good.”

  Dana poured herself a cup of coffee and sat on the chair in her hotel room. “Okay, I have another coffee in my hand. Let me have it.”

  “That piece Candy’s been working to keep out of the press?”

  “Which one?” Dana asked.

  “The one about Klein and Rusnac.”

  Dana took a sip from her coffee cup. I might need something stronger. “What about it?”

  “Doug got a heads-up early this morning. It seems someone leaked a classified document to The Washington Post.”

  Shit. “What kind of classified document?”

  “FBI—from what I understand.”

 

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