Florentyna had confidently assured Richard that the Baron Group profits would be over forty-one million for 1974, whereas Lester’s would be lucky to touch eighteen million. Richard, however, had predicted that Lester’s profits would pass the Baron Group’s by 1974. She feigned disdain but knew that when it came to financial forecasts he was rarely wrong.
Her thoughts floated back to Edward when the phone rang. Gianni di Ferranti wondered if she would like to see his new collection for the Paris show, which put her old classmate out of her mind until one o’clock the following Tuesday.
Florentyna arrived at the Four Seasons a few minutes after one, wearing one of Gianni’s new dresses in midi-length bottle-green silk with a sleeveless jacket over it. She wondered if she would still recognize Edward. She walked up the wide staircase to find him waiting for her on the top step. She privately hoped she had aged as well as he had.
“Edward,” she cried, “you haven’t changed a bit.” He laughed. “No, no,” mocked Florentyna, “I’ve always liked gray hair and the extra weight suits you. I wouldn’t expect anything less of a distinguished lawyer from my home town.”
He kissed her on both cheeks like a French general and then she put her arm through his and they followed the maitre d’ through to their table. A bottle of champagne awaited them.
“Champagne. How lovely. What are we celebrating?”
“Just being with you again, my dear.” Edward noticed that Florentyna seemed to be lost in thought. “Is something wrong?” he inquired.
“No. I was just remembering myself sitting on the floor at Girls Latin, crying, while you tore the arm off Franklin D. Roosevelt and then poured royal-blue ink over his head.”
“You deserved it—you were a dreadful little show-off. FDR didn’t. Poor little bear, is he still around?”
“Oh, yes. He’s taken up residence in my daughter’s bedroom and as he has managed to keep his remaining arm and both legs I can only reluctantly conclude that Annabel handles young men better than I did.”
Edward laughed. “Shall we order? I have so much to talk to you about. It’s been fun following your career on the television and in the papers, but I wanted to see if you’ve changed.”
Florentyna ordered salmon and a salad while Edward chose the prime rib with asparagus.
“I’m intrigued.”
“By what?” asked Edward.
“Why a Chicago lawyer would fly all the way to New York just to see an hotelier.”
“I do not come as a Chicago lawyer and I have no interest in talking to an hotelier. I come as treasurer of the Cook County Democratic Party.”
“I gave one hundred thousand dollars to the Chicago Democrats last year,” said Florentyna. “Mind you, Richard donated one hundred thousand to the New York Republicans.”
“I don’t want your money, Florentyna, although I know you have supported the Ninth District at every election. It’s you I want.”
“That’s a new line,” she said, grinning. “Men have stopped saying that to me lately. You know, Edward,” she continued, her tone changing, “I’ve been so overworked during the last few years, I’ve barely had time to vote, let alone become personally involved. What’s more, since Watergate I found Nixon detestable, Agnew worse, and with Muskie a nonrunner, I was only left with George McGovern, who didn’t exactly inspire me.”
“But surely—”
“I also have a husband, two young children and a five hundred million dollar company to run.”
“And what are you going to do for the next twenty years?”
She smiled to herself. “Turn it into a billion dollar company.”
“In other words, just repeat yourself. I agree with you that McGovern and Nixon—one was too good and the other too bad—and I don’t see anyone on the horizon who excites me.”
“So now you want me to run for President in ’seventy-six?”
“No, I want you to run for Congress as the representative of the Ninth District of Illinois.”
Florentyna dropped her fork. “If I remember the job specification correctly, it’s an eighteen-hour day, forty-two thousand five hundred dollars a year, no family life, and your constituents are allowed to be as rude to you as they like. Worst of all, you are required to live in the Ninth District of Illinois.”
“That wouldn’t be so bad. The Baron is in the Ninth District, and besides, it’s just a stepping-stone.”
“To what?”
“To the Senate.”
“When the whole state can be rude to you.”
“And then the Presidency.”
“When the rest of the world can join in. Edward, this is not Girls Latin and I don’t have two lives, one which can run my hotels and one—”
“And one in which you can give back some of what you have taken from others.”
“That was a bit rough, Edward.”
“Yes, it certainly was. I apologize. But I have always believed you could play a role in national politics, as you did once yourself, and I feel the time is right, especially as I’m convinced that you haven’t changed.”
“But I haven’t been involved in politics at a grass-roots level, let alone a national level, for years.”
“Florentyna, you know as well as I do that most people in Congress have neither your varied experience nor your intelligence. That goes for most Presidents, come to think of it.”
“I’m flattered, Edward, but not convinced.”
“Well, I can tell you that a group of us in Chicago want you to come home and run for the Ninth District.”
“Henry Osborne’s old seat?”
“Although the Democrats won it back in ’fifty-four, we have never had a large enough majority to feel confident when we had to select a new candidate to ward off any strong Republican challenge.”
“Daley wants a Polish woman?”
“Daley wants the woman Time said ran behind only Jackie Kennedy and Margaret Mead in the nation’s esteem. Daley likes winning.”
“You’re mad, Edward. Who needs it?”
“I suspect you do, Florentyna. Just give me one day in your life; come to Chicago and meet the people who want you. Express in your own words how you feel about the future of our country. Won’t you at least do that for me?”
“All right, I’ll consider it and call you in a few days. But I warn you, Richard will think I’m nuts.”
On that count Florentyna turned out to be wrong. Richard had arrived home late that night after a trip to Boston and he told her over breakfast the next morning that she had been talking in her sleep.
“What did I say?”
Richard stared at her. “Something I have always suspected,” he replied.
“And what was that?”
“‘I want to run.’”
Florentyna made no reply.
“Why did Edward want to see you for lunch so urgently?”
“He wants me to return to Chicago and run for Congress.”
“So that’s what brought it on. Well, I think you should consider the offer seriously, Jessie. For a long time you’ve been critical of the fact that competent women don’t go into politics. And you’ve always been outspoken about the abilities of those who do enter public life. Now you can stop complaining and do a little more about it other than when elections come around.”
“But what about the Baron Group?”
“The Rockefeller family managed to survive; no doubt the Kane family will get by somehow. In any case, the Group now employs twenty-seven thousand people, so I imagine we can find ten men to take your place.”
“Thank you, Mr. Kane. But how do I live in Illinois while you’re in New York?”
“That’s easily solved. I’ll fly to Chicago every weekend. Wednesday nights you can fly to New York and now that we know that Carol will never leave us, it shouldn’t be too unsettling for the children. When you’re elected, I’ll take the shuttle down to Washington Wednesday nights.”
“You sound as though you’ve been thinkin
g about this for some time, Mr. Kane.”
Florentyna flew out to Chicago a week later and was met at O’Hare Airport by Edward. It was pouring and the wind was so strong that Edward, tightly clutching a large umbrella with both hands, could not protect her from the rain.
“Now I know why I wanted to come back to Chicago,” she said as she scampered into the car, cold and wet. They were driven into the city while Edward briefed her on the people she would meet.
“They’re all party workers and faithful stalwarts who have only read about you or have seen you on television. They’ll be surprised to find that you only have two arms, two legs and a head like any of them.”
“How many do you expect to be at the meeting?”
“Around sixty. Seventy would be exceptional.”
“And all you want me to do is meet them and then say a few words about my feelings on national affairs?”
“Yes.”
“Then I can return home?”
“If that’s what you want to do.”
The car came to a halt outside the Cook County Democratic headquarters on Randolph Street. Florentyna was greeted by a Mrs. Kalamich, a plump, homely woman who led her to the main hall. Florentyna was shocked to find that it was packed with people, some standing at the back. As she walked in, they began to applaud.
“You told me there would only be a few people, Edward,” she whispered.
“I’m as surprised as you are. I expected about seventy, not over three hundred.”
Florentyna suddenly felt nervous as she was introduced to the members of the selection committee and then led on to the stage. She sat next to Edward, aware of how cold the room was and how the hall was full of people with hope in their eyes, people who enjoyed so few of the privileges she experienced everyday. How different this room was from her own boardroom, full of men in Brooks Brothers suits who ordered martinis before dinner. For the first time in her life she felt embarrassed by her wealth and hoped it didn’t show.
Edward rose from his chair in the center of the platform.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my privilege tonight to introduce a woman who has gained the respect and admiration of the American people. She has helped build one of the largest financial empires in the world and I believe she could now build a political career of the same dimensions. I hope she will launch that career in this room tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, Mrs. Florentyna Kane.”
Florentyna rose nervously to her feet. She began to wish she had spent more time preparing her speech.
“Thank you, Mr. Winchester, for your kind words. It’s wonderful to be back in Chicago, my home town, and I appreciate so many of you turning out for me on this cold, wet night.
“I, like you, feel let down by the political leaders of the day. I believe in a strong America and if I were to enter the political arena I would dedicate myself to those words Franklin D. Roosevelt said in this city over thirty years ago: ‘There can be no greater calling than public service.’
“My father came to Chicago as an immigrant from Poland and only in America could he have achieved the success he did. Each of us must play our role in the destiny of the country we love and I shall always remember your kindness in inviting me to be considered as your candidate. Be assured that I shall not make my final decision lightly. I have not come with a long prepared speech as I would prefer to answer any questions you consider important.”
She sat down and three hundred people applauded enthusiastically. When the noise had died down, Florentyna answered questions on subjects ranging from the U.S. bombing of Cambodia to legalized abortion, from Watergate to the energy crisis. It was the first time she had attended any meeting without all the facts and figures at her fingertips and she was surprised to find how strongly she felt on so many issues. After she had answered the final question, over an hour later, the crowd rose and started chanting “Kane for Congress,” refusing to stop until she left the platform. It was one of those rare moments in her life when she wasn’t sure what to do next. Edward came to her rescue.
“I knew they would love you,” said Edward, obviously delighted.
“But I was awful,” she shouted back above the noise.
“Then I can’t wait to find out what you’re like when you’re good.”
Edward led her off the platform as the crowd surged forward. A pale man in a wheelchair managed to touch her arm. She turned.
“This is Sam,” said Edward. “Sam Hendrick. He lost both his legs in Vietnam.”
“Mrs. Kane,” he said. “You won’t remember me; we once licked envelopes together in this hall for Stevenson. If you decide to run for Congress, my wife and I will work night and day to see you are elected. Many of us in Chicago have long believed you would come home and represent us.” His wife, who stood behind the chair, nodded and smiled.
“Thank you,” said Florentyna. She turned and tried to walk to the exit, but it was blocked by the outstretched hands of the well-wishers. She was stopped again at the door, this time by a girl of about twenty-five who told her, “I lived in your old room in Whitman at Radcliffe and, like you, once stood in Soldier Field and listened to President Kennedy. America needs another Kennedy. Why shouldn’t it be a woman?”
Florentyna stared at the eager, intense young face. “I’ve graduated and work in Chicago now,” the girl continued, “but the day you run, a thousand students from Illinois will be on the streets to see that you are elected.”
Florentyna tried to ask her her name but was pushed on by the crowd. At last Edward managed to bustle her through the throng and into a waiting car, which drove them back to the airport. She didn’t speak during the journey. When they arrived at O’Hare, the black chauffeur jumped out and opened the door for her. She thanked him.
“It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Kane. I want to thank you for the stand you took on behalf of my people in the South. We won’t forget that you led our struggle for equal pay and every hotel group in the country had to follow you. I hope you’re now going to give me the chance to vote for you.”
“Thank you again,” said Florentyna, smiling.
Edward took her to the terminal and guided her to the departure gate.
“Made your flight in good time. Thank you for coming, Florentyna. Please let me know when you’ve made up your mind.” He paused. “If you feel you can’t go ahead with the nomination, I’ll always understand.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek and left.
On the flight back, Florentyna sat alone thinking about what had happened that night and how unprepared she had been for such a demonstration of good will. She wished her father could have been in the hall to witness it.
A stewardess asked for her drink order.
“Nothing, thank you.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mrs. Kane?”
Florentyna looked up, surprised that the young girl knew her name.
“I used to work in one of your hotels.”
“Which one?” asked Florentyna.
“The Detroit Baron. Barons would always be the most popular choice for stewardesses. If only America was governed the way you run your hotels, we wouldn’t be in the trouble we’re in now,” she said before moving on down the aisle.
Florentyna flicked through a copy of Newsweek. Under the headline “How far does Watergate go?” she studied the faces of Ehrlichman, Haldeman and Dean before closing the magazine. On the cover was a picture of Richard Nixon and the caption “When was the President told?”
A little after midnight, she arrived back at East Sixty-fourth Street. Richard was sitting up in the crimson chair by the fire. He rose to greet her.
“Well, did they ask you to run for President of the United States?”
“No, but how do you feel about Congresswoman Kane?”
Florentyna phoned Edward the next day. “I am willing to put my name forward as the Democratic candidate for Congress,” she said.
“Thank you. I ought to try and express my thoughts more fully, but for now—tha
nk you.”
“Edward, may I know who would have been the candidate if I had said no?”
“They were pushing me to run myself. But I told them I had a better candidate in mind. As I’m certain this time around you’ll take advice, even if you become President.”
“I never did become class president.”
“I did, and I’ve still ended up serving you.”
“Where do I start, coach?”
“The primary is in three months, so you’d better reserve every weekend between now and the fall.”
“I already have starting this weekend—and can you tell me who was the young woman from Radcliffe who stopped me at the door and talked about Kennedy?”
“Janet Brown. In spite of her age, she’s already one of the most respected case workers in the city’s Human Services department.”
“Do you have her phone number?”
During the week Florentyna informed the Baron board of directors of her decision. They appointed Richard co-chairman of the Group and elected two new directors.
Florentyna called Janet Brown and offered her a job as her full-time political assistant and was delighted by Janet’s immediate acceptance. She then added two new secretaries to her staff for political work only. Finally, she called the Chicago Baron and instructed them to leave the thirty-eighth floor free, warning them she would need the entire floor left at her disposal for at least a year.
“Taking it seriously, aren’t we?” said Richard later that evening.
“Indeed I am, because I’m going to have to work very hard if you’re ever going to be the First Gentleman.”
Chapter
Twenty-Six
“Are you expecting much opposition?”
The Prodigal Daughter Page 28