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“That’s right. The Student Union Auditorium.”
“Tess, the rally was held in a damn gym. Half a gym, actually. Intramural basketball practice was going on behind the partition. And I wasn’t given a microphone so I needed to shout over the noise of bouncing balls and grunting teenagers.”
I probably shouldn’t feel like laughing. “Sorry, I’m sure it was just a miscommunication.”
“And I counted less than fifty heads. It was a goddamn waste.”
“They are college students. Many of them are probably voting for the first time. Maybe there’s more work to be done to let them know you’re listening to their needs.”
“What needs do they have? They spend their time playing video games and watching people dance on the internet.”
Grabbing a pen, I click it repeatedly to vent my annoyance. It’s true that my father is stressed. It’s also true that he sometimes has limited patience with the people he plans to serve. But once he’s in office he’ll be able to center all of his attention on solving real issues instead of hopping from one rally stop to another.
“Young voters have a lot of very relevant concerns. I will resend you the details from the last focus group and-”
“Moving on.” He cuts me off with one of his favorite phrases. “I’ll be at the golf club after lunch. Henderson wants to play a few rounds. I thought he was going to switch sides to Carrington but he’s promised a big contribution for this last push.”
“Well, he is an oil tycoon so I’m sure he’ll be generous.”
“Try not to interrupt me this afternoon unless it’s vital.”
“Yes sir.” The words come out snappy and sarcastic.
A long pause follows. He must be riding in a car right now. I hear the whoosh of the wind.
“You know I couldn’t do any of this without you, Tessie Belle. This is everything we’ve always worked for. It’ll all be worth it. The Ballerinis are going to be the first family of Emerald City.”
A woman’s voice murmurs in the background. My father’s muffled laughter indicates he’s now covering the phone. I sit back in my chair and wait.
He returns to the line in a more cheerful mood. “Listen, I’ve got to go. I’m sure you have everything under control. My complete faith is with you.”
He never says goodbye when he ends a call. I kill the connection before he does.
Is it wrong that I’m irritated? It seems I’m expected to work all hours of the day and be at his beck and call while he parties at the golf club.
Then I remember the strain in his face as he downed his blood pressure pills with a gulp of coffee. He waved away my concern and said his health was nothing for me to worry about.
Yet the usual bubble of fear isn’t quite enough to overcome my frustration.
I need to get out of here for a little while. It’s still a little early for lunch but no one is keeping track of my movements.
Impulsively, I reopen my laptop and fire off a message to the staff, thanking them for all their hard work and announcing that the office will close for the day at noon. My father is not usually included in these mass emails and I see no reason to include him now.
A murmur of excitement ripples through the room as I’m on my way out. Some of these people are volunteers and are not compelled to be here anyway, but I think the whole team could use an afternoon away from this freaking campaign.
I know I do.
Right now I just want to go home, nurse the invisible scars left by Micah Lyonne and try to forget that I made a complete idiot out of myself yesterday.
Unfortunately, forgetting about Micah will be harder now that I’ve exited the building and nearly tripped over him.
He leans against a wall to the left of the main door, casual as can be in a grey t-shirt speckled with illegible writing, washed-out black jeans and another day of beard growth. When he sees me, he stands up straight and the two of us exchange a long, silent stare.
I break the stare by marching right past him.
“Wait.” He touches my arm but I yank it free.
“How long have you been standing out here?”
