Road Blocks

by J. A. Armstrong

  “Okay,” Michelle waited nervously.

  “I’m going to talk to Jameson tonight.”

  “You made a decision too,” Michelle guessed.

  “We’ll talk.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THURSDAY

  “I don’t want to hear any excuses,” Candace said.

  “Candy, be reasonable.”

  Candace’s brow shot up into her hairline.

  Bill DeGrasso groaned. “I know; you hate that word.”

  “I don’t think it is unreasonable to expect that my Chief of Staff is garnering support for this administration’s proposals.”

  “It isn’t,” he agreed. “Candy, everyone is buzzing.”

  “Buzzing?”

  “About you,” he said. “And, don’t pretend to be surprised. No Republican wants to align with the possible Democratic frontrunner in a presidential election.”

  “Bill, the election is still a year and a half away.”

  “Uh-huh. You were the one who told Dana to deflect the serial killer story. She did. She let the rumor mill run wild about your potential candidacy. That might have bought you some time with the FBI’s investigation; it started the clock with the state legislature.”

  Candace tossed her glasses on the desk. “Are you telling me that we are facing an indefinite stalemate because of the reports that I might announce my candidacy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Unacceptable.”

  “Candy, look, I know you don’t want to hear this.”

  “Probably not; tell me anyway.”

  “It’s more problematic the longer you wait.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “Look, if they see that your popularity holds; we’ll be able to gain some votes with the moderates. You know better than anyone how this works. We’re not talking about just speculation, Candy. People are anxious; half of them praying like hell that you won’t run, and the other half pinning their hopes on your candidacy.”

  “I don’t have a candidacy,” she reminded him.

  “You can’t keep sitting on this.”

  Candace leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and let out a heavy sigh. Bill was right, and she knew it. She shook her head. Some people viewed politics as part of policy making. In Candace’s experience, many times politics obstructed policy making. This was one of those times. Bringing her fellow Democrats on board to support her proposals was not difficult. Candace’s popularity in the State of New York was soaring at 68%. Not the highest in the nation, but Candace Reid’s governorship ranked in the top five. That was an excellent place to sit should she decide to announce her candidacy for the highest office in the land. It also carried with it a precarious reality for building bipartisan coalitions.

  Republicans in the New York House would be skittish about throwing their support behind any of her initiatives until they gauged the potential funding fallout for themselves. An alliance with Candace Reid might hinder their financial backing with party bigwigs. Politics always meant taking a gamble. If Candace decided to run for the presidency, it would likely swing her approval numbers in one direction or the other. If her approval numbers had an uptick, particularly in the state, legislators would be more apt to compromise, fearing a loss of constituent support in the next election. If, however, Candace’s popularity took a dip, her colleagues across the aisle would feel more comfortable biding their time, pressing her for more concessions, and perhaps even refusing to negotiate at all. Gamble. Candace hated to gamble. Keeping people guessing about her plans currently meant she was keeping her agenda in limbo.

  “Candy,” Bill called for her attention. “I know you hate this, but…”

  Candace nodded. “It’s the way the game is played, Bill.”

  “If we held the majority…”

  “I know.”

  “You know, you might be able to drive that swing.”

  Candace rolled her eyes. “Not you too?” she asked. He shrugged. “I don’t know, Bill. I have a commitment here to the people that elected me. We are so close to pushing some of this through,” she groaned. “No matter what decision I make; it will put all of it at risk.”

  “Maybe. Maybe it will propel it forward,” he offered.

  Candace shook her head doubtfully.

  “Candy, 68% is nothing to scoff at.”

  “No,” Candace agreed. “But that can flip in a heartbeat. We both know that,” she said.

  “I’ll press as much as I can,” he promised her.

  “I know you will.”

  “But, you know as well as I do…”

  Candace nodded. Maybe I should flip a coin. “I know. I promise; as soon as I decide; I will let you know.”

  “You want me to test some waters?”

  “You mean, you’re not in over your head already?”

  Bill laughed. “Touché, Governor,” he said. “For whatever it’s worth, I’m confident you will swim and not sink.”

  Candace chuckled. “Mmm. It’s not the sinking I’m worried about,” she told him. “It’s the sharks.”

  ***

  Jameson kissed Cooper on the head and set off in search of Candace. It had been a long week. Jameson had spent a few days in Schoharie with Cooper, helping Michelle get ready for the wedding on Saturday. Candace had her hands full in Albany dealing with a potential serial killer in the area, a budget fight that Jameson knew conjured frequent headaches, pressure from powers above to launch a new campaign, and the upcoming wedding. She poked her head into the office at the Executive Mansion—empty. Jameson quietly shut the door and made her way toward the kitchen. She wasn’t surprised to find Candace sitting at the table, sipping a glass of wine while pouring over papers.

  “Working late, I see,” Jameson said.

  Candace peered over the rim of her glasses at Jameson and smiled. “When did you get here?”

  “About twenty minutes ago,” Jameson replied. “Coop passed out in the car.”

  Candace nodded. “I didn’t think you were coming here. I thought I was meeting you at home tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, well; I got tired of sleeping alone. You okay?” Jameson asked.

  Candace sighed. “Yes,” she said. Jameson’s pensive stare made Candace chuckle. “I swear,” she told Jameson. “Come, sit down.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Stop,” Candace said.

  “You look tired.”

  “Probably because I am tired.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  Candace smiled weakly.

  “Candace?”

  “I talked to Grant.”

  Jameson nodded. “I’m listening.”

  “I’ve asked Dana to make some calls.”

  Jameson held her breath.

  “I need to have a grasp of where I stand in the current field of candidates. I’m not going to form an exploratory committee.”

  “You aren’t?”

  Candace shook her head. “No.”

  “Candace?”

  Candace took a deep breath. “There’s no need for a committee, and no time. I either announce I am running or I make it clear that I won’t. I want to talk to the kids on Sunday. I know where She'll stands. If I’m going to do this, I need their blessing.”

  “You know that you will have it.”

  “I know, but I need to make clear what we are walking into. This isn’t like the race for governor.”

  “I know.”

  “I need to know, Jameson—and, I need you to be completely honest with me; how do you feel about me running?”

  Jameson folded her hands in front of her face and took several deep breaths. “Completely honest?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d rather be home every night with you and Coop.”

  Candace nodded.

  “But, that has never been our life,” Jameson continued. “Sometimes, Candace, I hate sharing you with the world.”

  “I know.”

  “I even hate sharing you with the kids s
ome days.”

  Candace smiled.

  “But, I’ve told you this before; I fell in love with you—all of you. And, the truth is, I love watching you work just as much as I miss you,” Jameson said. Candace looked surprised. “What?” Jameson chuckled. “I do love watching you. I mean, I love watching you stand up and address a crowd. I do. I admit it,” Jameson said. “I love that part of you every bit as much as I love the woman who stows away fortune cookies, and sneaks cuddles from the cat she is supposed to hate.”

  Candace smiled. “You just like the balls.”

  Jameson laughed. “Don’t make that statement to the press.”

  “You know what I meant.”

  “I want you to do what makes you happy; what you feel is the right thing to do.”

  “Jameson,” Candace put her glasses on the table, reached across it, and took Jameson’s hands. “I need you to know something.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You and Cooper matter more to me than any office I could be elected to. If you tell me that you don’t feel comfortable with this; I won’t do it.”

  “I know,” Jameson said. “We both know that no matter what you do, things can get uncomfortable. How many people get this chance?” Jameson asked. “Comfortable? I don’t think it should be comfortable. It scares the hell out of me, but what scares me more is you looking back and regretting not taking the chance. That’s not you, Candace.”

  “If the kids agree... Jameson, a presidential campaign can get nasty. People will say anything, and I do mean anything. They’ll twist things in directions you can’t imagine. And, it’s not just a big stage—it’s the biggest stage.”

  “I know,” Jameson said. “But, Candace, we all know the truth; the people that matter in your life know. Nothing anyone can say will change our family.”

  Candace sighed. She did believe that. “Maybe not, but it can take its toll. I’ve seen it.”

  “Okay. That’s not the piece that is still giving you pause.”

  “If I were successful—if I were to get elected…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Everything would change for you and Cooper. I don’t just mean where we live. I would be called away more often and on a second’s notice. And, Jameson, you would be under the spotlight in a way you have never been. They are all big ‘ifs,’ but the fact is, if I were to win; I wouldn’t just be the new president. I would be the first woman who happens to be married to a woman. Face it; the odds are against me, but…”

  “Candace, if you didn’t think you could win; we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  “It’s asking more of you than I have a right to. It’s asking you to set aside your work and your…”

  “Why do you think I asked Jonah and Mel to become partners in the firm?”

  “I thought you wanted more freedom because of Cooper?”

  “I did,” Jameson said. “I do. I also knew that this day would come.”

  “How could you know? I’m still faltering.”

  “I know you,” Jameson said.

  Candace squeezed Jameson’s hands.

  Jameson smiled. “I love you; you know?”

  “If you didn’t, I wouldn’t even consider this,” Candace replied.

  Jameson was stunned.

  “I’m serious, Jameson. It’s true. If I didn’t have you to come home to; if we didn’t have Cooper? The two of you make me want to say the hell with all of it sometimes. I miss you too,” she said. Jameson smiled. “But, knowing you’ll be there? That gets me through days like today.”

  “Do you want to know what I want?” Jameson asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I want to watch you stand on The Capital steps and take that oath.”

  “Jameson…”

  “You asked. I am scared. I can’t lie to you, and I won’t. Do you remember when you used to tell me that you worried you were keeping me from being a parent?”

  “I do,” Candace smiled. “I was right; you know? You have so much to offer.”

  Jameson smirked.

  “Jameson…”

  “So, do you,” Jameson said. “I told you a long time ago that I would try. We never thought we’d have a child together. That’s been the best decision we ever made, even if it has its challenges. I wouldn’t change that.”

  “Neither would I.”

  “You can make a difference, Candace. It’s not just that you want to—you can. I’m just glad that you let me be a part of it.”

  “You’re the biggest part of it,” Candace said. “Are you sure?”

  Jameson nodded and then chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I’m just wondering how many places the White House has for you to hide those cookies.”

  “To tell you the truth, I could use a little fortune telling right about now.”

  Jameson nodded. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a cookie. Candace laughed. “You brought me a fortune cookie?”

  “Call it intuition.”

  Candace cracked it open and laughed.

  “What does it say?”

  “Never kick a skunk.”

  Jameson reached over and grabbed the fortune.

  “Whatever you do, don’t add in bed to that one,” Candace said.

  “It’s defective. You got a defective fortune cookie.”

  Candace moved from her seat, and sat down in Jameson’s lap. “You,” she said. “Are a complete lunatic.” Candace kissed Jameson’s lips tenderly.

  “Well, I don’t mind being touched, if that’s what you mean.”

  Candace’s eyes sparked. “I love you.”

  Jameson cupped Candace’s cheek. “I love you, Candace. No matter what, I promise you that will never change.”

  Candace let her head fall on Jameson’s shoulder. “That’s the only fortune I need.”

  ***

  Jameson woke up and wrapped her arms around Candace.

  “Mmm,” Candace muttered.

  Jameson kissed Candace’s shoulder and held her close.

  Candace clasped Jameson’s hands as they held her. “Why are you awake?”

  “I don’t know,” Jameson whispered.

  Candace turned in Jameson’s arms and strained to make out Jameson’s expression in the faint light. “Honey?”

  “I guess, I just wanted to hold you.”

  “I’m right here,” Candace promised. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

  “Nothing is wrong,” Jameson replied. “I was just thinking about the kids.”

  “Which ones?”

  “All of them,” Jameson said.

  “Uh-huh. Jameson, did something happen that you didn’t tell me?”

  Jameson sighed.

  “Jameson?”

  “Marianne stayed at Scott’s the last few nights.”

  Candace nodded. Her oldest daughter, Marianne had grown close to Jameson’s cousin, Scott. Scott’s interest in Marianne was evident to anyone who saw them together. Marianne had suffered through a difficult time after the death of her husband. Candace was sure that her daughter had developed feelings for Scott, but she also knew that Marianne was reluctant to consider a romantic involvement. Jameson loved them both, but Candace knew that the idea of Scott and Marianne becoming more than friends worried her wife.

  “I would guess that she wanted to give Shell some space to get ready for the wedding without Spencer and Maddie underfoot,” Candace suggested.

  “Maybe.”

  “Jameson…”

  “I know; Scott’s a great guy. Marianne deserves someone—they both do.”

  “But?”

  “I just wish they’d pick someone other than each other,” Jameson confessed.

  “Well, that’s not how it works,” Candace reminded Jameson. “We don’t choose who to fall in love with.”

  “Are you saying you wouldn’t have chosen me?” Jameson tried to shift the conversation.

  “Nice try,” Candace replied. “You know exactly wh
at I mean.”

  “Afraid to answer the question?”

  Candace kissed Jameson’s lips. “No.”

  Jameson sighed. “I can’t help it. It worries me.”

  “Jameson, if it’s what is meant to be, it will be.”

  “Yeah, but if it’s not—what then?”

  “You know, Marianne could break Scott’s heart.”

  “Scott’s a big boy. Marianne has been through enough, and…”

  “And, you two have become closer than you ever imagined. I know,” Candace said. “You need to trust that your relationship with each of them can survive no matter what happens.”

  “I just… If he hurt her, Candace, I would…”

  Candace claimed Jameson’s lips again.

  “What was that for?”

  “I think you know,” Candace said.

  “You think it’s stupid.”

  “No,” Candace replied. “I think you have had a rocky road with both of them at points, and it’s human. I also think they both love you. You need to trust that.”

  “Are you really okay with it? Marianne and Scott, I mean?”

  “Aren’t you? Deep down?”

  Jameson sighed. “Yes,” she confessed.

  “Do I worry?” Candace asked rhetorically. “All the time,” she told Jameson.

  “Candace?”

  “Hum?’

  “If they got married, that’d make Scott like our kid.”

  Candace laughed. “Let’s get through Saturday before we marry anyone else off.”

  “Oh, God!”

  “What?”

  “If they had kids, Scott’s kid would be my grandkid!”

  Candace snickered. “That would be a travesty. One wedding at a time,” she suggested.

  “Jonah didn’t need a wedding…”

  Candace put her hand over Jameson’s mouth. “Bite your tongue.”

  Jameson chuckled. “Made you sweat a little, huh?”

  “I never sweat.”

  Jameson kissed Candace gently. “Not often, no,” she agreed.

  “Go to sleep,” Candace ordered.

  “We could open some fortune cookies…”

  Candace laughed. “Go to sleep, Jameson.”

  “I know where there are some.”

  “Good night, Jameson.”