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“It won’t be like that this time.”
“I won’t have any time to entertain you. When I’m not making a speech, I’ll be writing one. Hours into the trip, you’d be whining that I was ignoring you and that you had nothing to do.”
“I’ll find things to do. I can make coffee, order sandwiches, sharpen pencils, take calls, return calls, run errands.”
“Menial labor. We’ve got gofers and hangers-on who do all that.”
“I can do something.” She had been following closely on his heels as he moved around the office. When he stopped abruptly, she collided with him from behind.
He turned. “The novelty would wear off after the first day, and you’d be tired of it, complaining, wanting to come home.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Why do you want to become involved all of a sudden?”
“Because,” she said with rising ire, “you’re running for a Senate seat, and it’s my responsibility as your wife to help you win.”
“Bullshit!”
There were three sharp raps on the door. Seconds later it was opened to admit Eddy and Jack. “Excuse us,” the former said, “but we heard all the shouting when we came in and thought you might need us to referee.”
“What’s going on?” Jack closed the door behind them. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see my husband,” Avery retorted. “If that’s all right with you, Jack.” She pushed her bangs off her forehead, a belligerent gesture that dared him to make something of it.
“Calm down, for crissake. I was just asking.” Jack sat down on the short sofa against the wall.
Eddy shoved his hands into his pants pockets and stared at the Oriental rug between his gleaming shoes. Tate returned to his desk and sat down. Avery was too keyed up to sit, so she crossed to the credenza and backed against it, supporting herself on her hips.
“Carole wants to go on the campaign trip with us next week,” Tate said.
Jack said, “Jesus, not again.”
Avery cried, “Well, why not?”
Eddy said, “Let’s discuss it.”
Tate took them in turn. “You don’t like the idea, Jack?”
Jack glared at her, then shrugged and swore beneath his breath. “She’s your wife.”
Tate’s attention moved to Avery. “You already know my objections.”
“Some of them are justified,” she said in a conciliatory tone, admiring him for not criticizing his wife in front of other men. “I’ll do better this time, now that I know what to expect and what is expected of me.”
“Eddy?”
Eddy’s contemplation of the rug ended when Tate spoke his name. He raised his head. “There’s no doubt that a handsome couple is an easier package to sell than a handsome man alone.”
“Why?”
“Image, mainly. A couple represents all the things America stands for—hearth and home, the American dream. Marriage signifies that once you get to Washington you aren’t going to squander taxpayers’ money on bimbo secretaries who can’t type.”
“At least in theory,” Jack said with a guffaw.
Eddy smiled crookedly and conceded, “At least in theory. Women voters will respect you for being a faithful husband and conscientious father. Men will like that you aren’t either gay or on the make.
“For all our modern sophistication, voters might feel uneasy about voting a suspected homosexual into office. A good-looking candidate is inherently resented by male voters. Having a wife by your side makes you one of the guys.”
