“Records are only as good as the person who types them,” he replied.
“Are you suggesting that Mr. Hill’s adoption records were altered to protect Candace Reid?”
“I’m not suggesting anything other than the fact that records are only a reflection of the person who created them. Look at The Stratton Foundation. There’s a mountain of evidence that the foundation engaged in funding the governor’s campaigns when she was in the senate. We’ve seen it. Now, suddenly thirty years of records dispute that?”
Deena narrowed her gaze. “But, to your point, those records have existed for thirty years. Our team of analysts has poured over them. They’ve found a few instances where the foundation accepted money from well-known surrogates of Governor Reid’s during election years. That’s about it.”
“I’d say that’s a pretty big red flag.”
“What do we do?” Michelle asked.
Glenn sighed. “Not much we can do. Once David released those documents, they became open to conjecture.”
“Great.”
“Relax, Shell,” Glenn said. “It’s a dead-end.”
“Glenn, no offense, but it doesn’t look great.”
“It’s typical. Your mother was not involved in the foundation other than to be its mouthpiece.”
“That’s our argument? Somehow, that sounds weak to me,” Michelle observed.
“She’s right,” Candace said as she closed the door. Everyone hopped to their feet. “Sit,” she instructed them.
“Mom, I…”
Candace held up her hand. “You’re not wrong.”
“Really?”
Candace chuckled. “Really.” She looked at her campaign manager. “This is the one we need to worry about.”
“Candy, once those documents made it into public…”
“I know. It’s a potential long-term problem. Bring Doug in now.”
“Candy,” Glenn cautioned. “I know you have an affinity for Doug, and I know he agreed that he would…”
“Now, Glenn.”
Glenn nodded.
Candace turned her attention to Michelle. “I need you to spend some time in the Albany campaign office.”
“Why?” Michelle asked.
“I need eyes there that I can trust,” Candace said.
“Is this about the campaign?”
“Yes and no,” Candace replied.
“What’s going on?” Glenn asked.
“The FBI wants us to keep our eyes open,” Candace said.
“For?” Michelle asked.
“Anyone new that seems suspicious.”
“Mom, the campaign office gets lots of people in an out.”
“Yes, I know. That’s why I need you there—one of the reasons.”
“Okay? What are the other reasons?” Michelle asked.
“That’s home base,” Candace explained.
“Candy,” Glenn interjected. “I still think it would be best to set up your main headquarters in the city. It’s…”
“I know what it is. It’s glitzy and central,” Candace cut him off. “We’re not running on glitz. We’re running this campaign in grit. Albany it is.”
“You’re the boss,” Glenn mumbled.
Candace sensed her campaign manager’s frustration. She prided herself on listening to the advice of her staff. In the end, she was responsible for the success or failure of every decision made by her administration or her campaign. Sometimes, things that seemed simple to others carried greater weight with Candace. While it was true that she preferred to concentrate on the working pieces of her career, she did understand that optics mattered. Balancing the need to create excitement—even illusion in politics, and the gravity of managing policies was the crux of Candace’s job both as governor and as a candidate.
“Listen,” Candace began to address the room. “I know that you are frustrated with what you perceive as my opposition to your opinions. I’ve heard all of your arguments,” she told the small group.
“Your poll numbers are holding,” Glenn said. “But that isn’t deterring Wolfe’s team.”
“No, I wouldn’t expect it to.”
“I just think that a higher profile office, maybe some advisers that play to your base right now is the best…”
Candace nodded. “You’re not wrong,” she told Glenn. “If the only thing to consider were this campaign, then I would be inclined to follow your advice. Maybe Manhattan would be a more attractive option for headquarters. Maybe we would wait to bring Doug on board until we are closer to the convention and the general. Maybe that would be the case. That is not where we sit. That’s not where I sit. I still have a state to keep running,” she reminded them. “A state whose legislature is held by the opposition party. I need to keep the moderates at the capital on board with this budget. I need the people in this state to know that they remain my priority and that I understand New York is more than the Big Apple. That has a direct implication for this campaign as well.”
Glenn sighed.
“You know that I’m right. We might be able to seal the deal on my nomination without the suburbs. That will not work in a general election. If we hope to bring this home, we’re going to need more than my base. That’s not an opinion. That’s a fact. The people we need live in places like Albany and Plattsburg—all over this country. Take a breath,” she told them. “Don’t get so tied up in this moment that you lose sight of the finish line.”
Michelle listened to her mother and found herself smiling. She had little doubt that there were a host of reasons Candace wanted her to take a role at Campaign Headquarters. She sometimes lost sight of how talented her mother was as a politician. Candace had glided to the governorship. As a senator, Candace had been an immensely popular figure in New York. Michelle was confident that her mother was correct. The east coast, cities across the country, and Candace’s base would lock in their support for a Reid presidency early on. There might be some battles now, but the war was on the horizon.
“Whatever you need, Mom,” Michelle said.
“What I need is for all of you to take a break,” Candace said. She chuckled at the grateful collective sigh that followed. “See you later this afternoon,” she said. “Shell?”
“Yeah?”
“Care to join me for a bite?”
“Is it leftovers in a carton?” Michelle asked.
“No. I thought that we could step out for lunch,” Candace said.
“Seriously?”
“Why is that strange?”
“A month ago, it wouldn’t have been,” Michelle said. “I’m just surprised you want to go somewhere on the spur of the moment.”
Candace nodded. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to make impromptu visits to any public venue. It would only become a greater challenge as the months wore on. She had a few selfish reasons for headquartering her campaign in Albany. It was close to home and work. Candace enjoyed personal relationships with many local business owners. That would make last minute plans more feasible. The part of becoming president that Candace dreaded was seclusion. For as long as possible, she intended to enjoy some modicum of freedom. “I could use a little air—and maybe a fattening bowl of pasta loaded with cheese.”
“Comfort food?” Michelle asked.
“Something like that. What do you say?”
“Are you paying?”
“I’ll write it off as a business expense,” Candace joked.
Michelle held up her hand. “I’ll pay!”
“Why? Worried about an audit?”
“That and what they’ll say when they see the receipt for artery clogging lunch. They’ll probably have you on a gurney by dinner time. If anyone asks me, I'll say you ate my salad.”
Candace laughed. “Always looking out for me.”
“Hell yeah; I want to sleep in Lincoln’s bedroom.”
Candace rolled her eyes. “I’ll bet you’re the first lesbian to say that.”
Michelle stopped in her tracks and loo
ked at Candace in disbelief.
“What? Do you know another?” Candace asked.
“I’m betting there’s more than one First Lady who would have taken Mary over Abe.”
Candace fell into a fit of laughter. Lunatics.
***
“Hey, JD.”
Jameson looked up from her plans at Jonah. “Hey. I didn’t know you were coming by. Everything okay?”
Jonah shrugged. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, just this project I’ve been thinking about for a while—something for Coop and Spence.”
Jonah nodded.
“What’s up?” Jameson asked.
“JD, has Mom said anything to you about Laura’s father?”
Jameson rolled up her plans and put them aside. “Let’s take a walk.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s nice out. A beer by the pool sounds like a good idea to me.”
“Beer too?” Jonah shook his head. “It is bad.” He followed Jameson into the kitchen.
Jameson laughed. “And here I thought Shell was the dramatic one.” She handed Jonah a beer.
“What did she say?”
“Jonah, your mom doesn’t have any use for Lawson Klein; you know that.”
“Yeah, but she’s not doing anything about it.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“Feels true to me.”
“What do you want her to do?” Jameson asked.
“Take him out.”
“Last I checked, your mom isn’t Jimmy Hoffa.”
“You know what I mean.”
Jameson took a long pull from her beer. She could hardly blame Jonah for being angry and frustrated. She wanted to be sure that he placed that anger in the correct corner. No one was harder on Candace than Candace. If Candace had thought that she could stop Lawson Klein’s ramblings and his hurtful overtures to his family, she would have already done something. Candace was an astute study of character. She may not have been able to understand what drove someone like Lawson Klein. She was adept at predicting what he would do next. And, Jameson was also positive that any action Candace took toward Lawson Klein would be carefully planned.
“I do,” Jameson replied. “I think she’s hoping he will be his own undoing.”
“Hasn’t worked yet.”
“True, but this is a different ball game,” Jameson reminded him. “He’s got more people paying attention now.”
“That’s my point. How long is she going to let him keep going? Jesus, JD she’s not even defending herself!”
“Probably because she doesn’t need to.”
“What?”
Jameson shrugged. “Nothing he’s said is true.”
“People still believe it.”
“Yeah, I guess they do.”
“Doesn’t that piss you off?”
“Me? Yeah, it pisses me off. But your mom is right. People will believe what they want. Getting defensive will only make that worse.”
“So, why not go on the offensive?”
“What makes you think she isn’t?”
Jonah groaned. “She isn’t. That’s the point.”
“Jonah,” Jameson shook her head. “When your mom sat you all down to talk about starting this campaign, she told you that this was going to happen.”
“Yeah, but I expected she’d fight it.”
“She is. She just isn’t fighting it the way you want her to.”
“What am I supposed to do? Just sit here and be quiet while he rakes my mother over the coals, sends my wife into tears?”
“Drink your beer.”
“What?”
Jameson took another long sip from her beer. Can’t blame him. “Sometimes, a cold beer or three is the best way I know to cope with how you are feeling right now.”
Jonah looked at Jameson curiously.
“You don’t think I know how you feel?” Jameson asked. “You don’t think I’d like to beat the shit out of Lawson Klein?”
“Did you ever tell Mom that?”
Jameson laughed. “More like I screamed about it.”
“No way. What did she say?”
“Mostly, she listened. We’ve had more than one argument on this front.”
“Seriously?”
Jameson nodded.
“I can’t picture you and Mom fighting.”
Jameson shrugged. “It doesn’t happen often,” she admitted. “It does happen.”
“Mom told me that I should be there for Laura.”
Jameson nodded again. Familiar. “She’s not wrong.”
“But?”
“That might be enough for them.”
Jonah sipped his beer. “What about us?”
“I don’t know,” Jameson replied. “There’ve been days when I wanted to hop a plane, meet Klein outside his house and throttle his ass into next week.”
Jonah chuckled. “I’d enjoy watching that.”
Jameson clinked her beer against his. “Thing is, I know it would just make things worse for your mom—and for Laura.”
“That’s sort of what Laura said. I don’t know. I think it might be worth it.”
Jameson laughed. “I feel you.”
“It really bugs you that much?”
Jameson looked at Jonah. “Jonah,” she started and then stopped.
“What?”
“I love your mom.”
“No way,” he teased.
Jameson remained serious. “More than I can believe most days. When your mom and I first got together—well, to be honest, I hadn’t considered all that it would mean.”
“You mean living with a politician?”
“No, I mean taking on a family.”
“Do you regret it?”
“What? No!” Jameson shook her head. “No, I just never imagined me being anyone’s mom.”
“And grandma.”
“Yeah, and that,” Jameson agreed. “I hate watching the way Klein’s bullshit hurts this family. I’m supposed to take care of all of you. Sometimes I feel like the world’s biggest failure on that front.”
Jonah sobered. “JD, you’re not a failure.”
Jameson shrugged. “Maybe not. I can’t help but feel that way sometimes.”
Jonah sighed. He hadn’t stopped to consider that Jameson was in a similar position. “Mom has never been happier; you know that; right? I mean, Mom can take care of herself.”
“To a point,” Jameson said. She looked at Jonah and smiled. “Your mom isn’t made of steel, Jonah. That’s how most of the world sees her—as someone larger than life. I think even Lawson Klein sees her that way.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I think that’s part of what makes him so crazy where she is concerned. She never quits. She never folds.”
Jonah smiled. “She doesn’t waver at all.”
“Oh, but she does,” Jameson corrected him. “She’s not indestructible. She’s human. I have to stop and remember that too sometimes.”
“You’re worried about her.”
“Yes and no. I always worry,” Jameson said. “I know that she feels the same way we do a lot of the time.”
“She’s the one that….”
“She’s your mother,” Jameson stopped Jonah’s thought in its tracks. “She’s my wife. She wants to protect us. And, she feels responsible for how we feel.”
“That’s crazy. It’s not her fault that Klein is an asshole.”
“No, but listen to us sitting here. There’s a target on her back, and that puts us all in the line of fire,” Jameson said. “I have to remind myself that this hurts her, and no one is more frustrated or angry about all of this than your mother.”
“I guess, I never thought about it that way.”
“Imagine it was JJ he attacked.”
Jonah shuddered. “I just want to help.”
“You do help. You just have to accept that you can’t make it all better.”
“JD?”
“
Yeah?”
“Do you hope she wins?”
Jameson sipped her beer. “I think we need more beer.”
“You don’t; do you?”
“I do,” Jameson replied honestly. “She can do so much, and she wants to.”
“But?”
“But, I hate watching people attack her. The rest I can handle,” Jameson said. “I hate the separations. If you want to know the truth, I will miss working at the firm. I love this house. I love our life as it is.”
“And?”
“All of that I can handle—moving, changing my career or putting it on hold, even the separations. I can handle all of that. When I hear someone call her vile names, accuse her of—Jonah, your mom is the best person I know—the strongest person I know. She may not be perfect, but she cares so much about so many people. I know it hurts her. She can handle it. She shouldn’t have to. It’s the one thing I struggle with.”
“I get it.”
“I know you do.”
“So, we drink beer?”
Jameson raised her bottle as a toast. “We drink beer.”
Chapter Eight
Sunday
Jameson walked into the kitchen to find Candace shucking corn. “What did that corn do to you?”
Candace turned and sighed.
“Are you more worried about Grant or the stooges?” Jameson asked Candace.
Candace shrugged. “Truthfully, I’m more worried about you and Jess.”
“Me and Jessica? Why?”
“Because you have your reservations about Grant; reservations I’m quite sure the kids share. And, we both know Jess is afraid somehow this will cause a setback in her relationship with Shell.”
“Candace, you can’t blame us for being concerned about you, and honestly, neither can Jessica.”
“I don’t. But it isn’t just concern about me; is it? You’re skeptical of his motivations.”
Jameson nodded. She was skeptical about Grant Hill. She didn’t know Grant but she was familiar with his body of work and his history of taking shots at Candace publicly. Jameson was having a difficult time squaring the Grant Hill Candace described with the public image of the man.
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