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Fancy leaped from her chair, giving a wild whoop of irrepressible joy. “God, it’s about time something good and fun happened around here.”
Mandy looked at Avery for a clarification of why everybody had suddenly become so excited.
Avery asked, “Tomorrow? Why?”
Nelson addressed her question first. “The polls. Tate’s slipping, losing ground every day.”
“That’s not much cause to celebrate,” Zee said.
“Tate’s advisers think the family should be more visible,” Nelson explained, “so he doesn’t look like such a maverick. I, for one, am glad we’re all going to be together again.”
“They’ve changed their minds about me staying in the background?” Avery asked.
“Obviously.”
“I’ll pack for Mandy and me.” All negative thoughts were dispelled by the knowledge that she would soon be with Tate. “What time are we leaving?”
“Soon as everybody’s ready.” Nelson glanced down at Dorothy Rae, who was obviously panic-stricken. Her face was the color of cold oatmeal and she was wringing her hands. “Mona, please help Dorothy Rae get her things together.”
“Do I have to go?” she asked in a quavering voice.
“That’s what I was told.” Nelson divided a stern stare between her and Fancy, who, unlike her mother, was ebullient. “I don’t think I need to remind anyone to be on her best behavior. We’re moving into the final days of the campaign. All the Rutledges are going to be under public scrutiny, constantly living under a magnifying glass. Conduct yourselves accordingly.”
Thirty-Seven
It was raining in Fort Worth when they arrived.
Nelson drove straight to the downtown hotel, but because the trip from the hill country had taken longer than expected due to the inclement weather and frequent stops, Jack, Eddy, and Tate had already left for the political rally being held that evening.
The travel-weary group checked into their rooms as quickly as possible. Mandy was tired and cranky. She threw a temper tantrum and nothing pacified her—not even the room service meal that was promptly delivered.
“Mandy, eat your dinner,” Zee said.
“No,” she said petulantly, poking out her lower lip. “You said I could see Daddy. I want to see Daddy.”
“He’ll be here later,” Avery explained for the umpteenth time.
“Come on now, this is your favorite,” Zee said cajolingly. “Pizza.”
“I don’t like it.”
Nelson impatiently glanced at his military wristwatch. “It’s almost seven. We’ve got to leave now or get there late.”
“I’ll stay with her,” Dorothy Rae volunteered, her expression hopeful.
“Big help you’d be,” Fancy said scornfully. “I say let the little wretch starve.”
“Fancy, please,” Zee remonstrated. “One difficult child at a time is enough.” She pleaded fatigue herself and offered to skip the rally and stay with Mandy.
“Thank you, Zee,” Avery said. “That would be a help. I don’t think she’s fit to meet the public tonight. Nelson, you take Dorothy Rae and Fancy now. I’ll come along later.”
Nelson began to protest. “Dirk and Ralph said to—”
“I don’t care what they said,” Avery said, butting in. “Tate wouldn’t want me to leave Mandy with Zee while she’s behaving this badly. Once she’s in bed, I’ll take a cab. Tell them I?
??ll get there as soon as I can.”
The three of them filed out of Mandy’s bedroom, part of a three-room suite assigned to Tate’s family. “Now, Mandy,” Avery said reasonably, “eat your supper so I can brag to Daddy how good you’ve been.”
