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"It's out," Hope said. "The Globe picked it up today. Second page."
She handed me a copy of the newspaper, and I flipped to the article with the clear headline: "Mayoral Candidate's Girlfriend Has Abortion." My hands started to shake, and immediately, Brandon took one in his lap.
"Well, in a way, it's a good thing you're not Catholic," Hope said. "Makes your reform clearer that way. If you converted, you would be taking on the Catholic church's stance on abortion. As in, it's wrong, and you regret it." She shrugged, as if the truth of the narrative meant little. "We could show your first communion and everything. 'Reformed sinner makes good.' You get absolved by the church, Boston forgives you. It's perfect."
"But I'm pro-choice," I said in a shaky voice. "That's not going to have to change, no matter how badly I feel about what I did." I looked worriedly at Brandon. "Is it?"
He shook his head vehemently. "Nothing about you needs to change, Red."
Behind him, Cory rolled his eyes, but Hope smiled.
"That doesn't really matter anyway," she said. "Massachusetts is one of the most liberal states in the country. And you don't actually have to say anything; that's what I'm for. Just look pretty eating the bread and sipping the wine, and it'll all go over great."
"Op-tics," Cory said slowly, like he was talking to a person hard of hearing.
I glared at him.
"I still think it's a ridiculous idea," Brandon said to them as he squeezed my hand a little harder. "I'm not running a sham campaign here. Skylar's not going to fake-convert just to make me look good."
Hope shrugged. She was obviously as cutthroat as Cory, although she managed to couch her razor-sharp pragmatism in nicer words. I supposed that's why she was the communications director.
"The reality is this," she said, looking at us both directly. "This is the kind of scandal that's really hard to recover from. You turn around and marry the girl who just terminated her pregnancy with you? Right after we've just finished putting out fires about your divorce and today's video? It doesn't get much worse than that."
"It's on Slate," Omar called out from his place on the hearth. "And Vice. It also looks like #brandonsbaby is trending on Twitter."
"Fuck me!" Cory groaned.
Brandon pressed his lips into a tight line, and my stomach dropped another story. Even though the truth was out there, I knew it still hurt him, and would for a long time.
"We could try to distract the press," Hope continued. "Flip the news cycle. But unless there's a terrorist attack or something, it would be hard to beat this story unless we have a competing narrative. Conversion and a big church wedding fits the bill." She smiled at us. "I mean, look at you two. You look like you just walked off The Bachelor. Who wouldn't want to be you?"
"This is ridiculous––" Brandon started to protest again.
"I'll do it," I cut in quietly.
Immediately, everyone looked up, including Omar, who had been mostly engrossed with his computer.
Brandon sat up straight and gawked. "What?"
I took another long, measured drink of wine, although my hand was still shaky.
"Skylar," Brandon said as he sat forward, still holding my other hand. "No. You don't need to do this."
I looked at him directly. His blue eyes gleamed, unwavering. God, I loved him so much.
"Do you want to be mayor?" I asked gently.
He paused, glanced at Cory and Hope, then back at me. "Yes."
"And these guys know what they're talking about, don't they?"
"Well, of course," Brandon admitted. "I wouldn't hire anyone but the best. But Skylar––"
"Then I should do it," I said simply, much more calmly than I felt. "I did something that hurt you, and keeping it to myself almost ruined us. I want to help rebuild. Maybe this is just the price I pay for doing that." I shrugged. "I can be nominally Catholic––it's no different than converting for marriage or something like that. It's not going to hurt anyone."
Even as I spoke the words, I felt a little sick to my stomach. This went against everything I believed in. But if it would help Brandon, keep him from losing his dream, I'd do it.
Brandon's rolled his lips together, stunned into silence. "Skylar..." he tried again.
"It's fine," I said. I pulled my hand away and turned back to my lunch.
The noodles still tasted like sawdust, but I ate them anyway, determined to put on an unaffected front. After several more minutes of silent chewing in front of my awkward audience of four, I finally got up and carried my plate to the kitchen sink. Then I grabbed my bag off the entry table and wove my way back through the room.
"I'm going now," I said with a kiss to Brandon's still-stunned cheek. "Leave you guys to your strategizing. Just let me know where I need to go and when." I turned to Hope and Omar. "Nice to meet you. Cory, nice to see you again."
The chatter rose again as I made my way out of the room, but I could feel Brandon's eyes boring into me the entire time. I didn't turn around; I knew the doubt in my heart would be all over my face.
~
