Sugar & Ice

by Brooklyn Wallace

  “You nervous?” I asked, mostly just to hear something other than the quiet murmur of chatter around us.

  Jeffrey stopped midpace and blinked up at me, as if just realizing he wasn’t alone. He chuckled quietly. “Am I ever not?”

  “I don’t know how you still have pre-public-speaking jitters. You’re a charm onstage. I’ve never seen anyone calm a room full of ornery senior citizens without breaking out in tears like you can.”

  He laughed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I know, I know. It’ll be fine. I know it’s going to be fine. Osten is, as the college volunteers like to say, a fucklord douchenugget.”

  “I don’t know what those words mean, but they sound scathing, so I wholeheartedly agree.”

  The sound of laughter caught my attention. I looked over to the far corner of the gymnasium and scowled. I’d known Dick would be here—it would be too much to ask to have a day free of that man these days, it seemed—but Jane Winthrop hanging off his arm was a surprise.

  Grudging by the furrow in Jeffrey’s brow, he wasn’t expecting it, either.

  Before I could ask about it, Dick spotted us and made his way over, Jane in tow. He clapped Jeffrey on the back with a wide smile.

  “How you feeling, son?”

  “A little nervous, but Gwen’s keeping my head right.”

  Dick nodded without throwing me so much as a glance. “Just remember your talking points, stay on target, and for the love of baloney, don’t sound like a politician.”

  Jeffrey laughed. I smiled, just to be polite.

  “You remember Jane, right?”

  “Pleasure to see y’all again,” Jane said.

  I liked Jane just fine. The reputation that preceded her painted the picture of a ruthless oligarch in the business of manufacturing and maintaining career-politicians—which wasn’t entirely inaccurate—but she had a genuine sweetness about her that couldn’t have all been just for show. That didn’t mean I liked her being here after what she’d revealed the last time we met.

  I waited for Jeffrey to shake her hand and make pleasantries before I butted in. “I could. “What brings you to a local debate in the 35th? I figured you’d be slinging mud somewhere in the city.”

  Jane threw her head back and let out a full-bodied laugh. “Ain’t you something, sweetheart! Gosh, I knew I liked you. Dick actually invited me out see this and give some feedback. I’ve prepared for my fair share of debates, as y’all know.”

  Jeffrey smiled appreciatively. “Thank you, Miss—Jane.”

  I glanced at Dick to gauge his intention, but got nothing more than an eager smile. “Mm. Thank you, Jane.”

  Jane spotted someone else in the crowd and tugged Dick along after her to rub elbows just as Henry Osten came strolling in with a cheap, smarmy smile to match his cheap, smarmy suit.

  Osten was the owner of a chain of fast food joints who’d somehow bumbled his way into politics. He was at least ten years Jeffrey’s senior, but he hardly looked it. The lines in his face gave the impression he was open and friendly, and the grey at his temples made him look distinguished. If you were to look up the word “politician” in the dictionary, you’d get a picture of Osten’s handsome face and rows of pearly teeth.

  He shook Jeffrey’s hand and smiled at him as if he were an old friend. “Crawford! How’re you feeling, son?”

  The use of son was deliberate and calculated. Jeffrey must have picked up as much, because he didn’t even flinch. He took Osten’s offered hand and gave it a firm shake. “Ready to go out and wow that crowd. How about yourself?”

  “Much the same. I hear you’re quite the orator. I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

  “Don’t knock yourself too hard there. I’ve heard your stump speech.”

  They exchanged more shallow pleasantries until the moderator flashed the sign signaling there were three minutes left before the debate began. I flashed Jeffrey an encouraging smile and pushed him toward the stage entrance. Showtime.

  Before I could find a place in the corner to watch them behind the curtain without being seen, Jane flagged me down and insisted I sit with her and Dick in the front row. The bar wooden sit was just another added unpleasantness, aside from having to hear Dick whisper critiques in my ear for the next forty minutes.

  My phone buzzed. and I stealthily looked down at it.

  Jackie: BREAK A LEG!!! or tell jeffrey to?? break a leg by proxy??? idk. just kick that dudes ass

  I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth to stifle a laugh. Before I could think of a witty reply, Dick cleared his throat pointedly. I shoved my phone back into my purse and stared straight ahead. I didn’t trust myself not to do something childish like stick my tongue out at him.

  As the moderator set about explaining the rules, Dick leaned over and whispered, “Osten’s people look good. Confident.”

  Jane scoffed. “They’re supposed to. This was their idea, and it’s in their home court. You’d be confident, too.”

  I frowned up at the stage, where Jeffrey was shuffling his notes, head bowed. “Osten may be confident, but Jeffrey’s got facts and ambition on his side.”

  Audience members with questions formed a line at the mic in the middle aisle. The moderator reminded everyone there would be three minutes per candidate to answer each question.

  Osten opened up with his stump speech first, and I was begrudgingly impressed with his breezy confidence. He spoke as if he knew what he was talking about, but with a warm tone that gave the impression he was talking with you and not at you.

  I had Jeffrey’s stump speech memorized forward, backward, and sideways. I nodded along as he recited it as if it were the first time, inflections in the right places and smiles at the end of perfectly timed jokes.

  His eyes subtly scanned the audience until he locked on me. I raised up two thumbs and saw his shoulders relax minutely. The first part was the hardest, and now it was over. There would be nothing holding him back now.

  As expected, he killed it. From the first question, he held steady and stuck to the game plan without sounding too rehearsed. Osten was on offense all night, but Jeffrey parried and fought back without allowing himself to get baited and lose focus.

  “Your boy’s on fire tonight,” Jane leaned over and whispered during closing remarks.

  “Thank you,” Dick said at the same time I said, “I know.”

  The moderator called the debate to a close, and both candidates went out into the crowd to shake hands and schmooze. Dick, Jane, and I held back as Jeffrey worked the room, smiling and laughing as if the citizens of the 35th were the most charming people on the planet. I wondered how I’d ever made it as far as I had as a politician.

  When the auditorium finally cleared, we approached Jeffrey with smiles and compliments.

  “You looked good up there, son. Natural,” Dick said.

  Jane laughed and nodded. “You looked just like your father when he was in his heyday.”

  “Hey now, I’m still in my heyday,” Dick joked.

  Jeffrey laughed. He looked up at me, eyebrows raised and eyes hopeful. “So?”

  “You made Osten look even more like an ass than he already is,” I told him with a smirk. “I’m sure the morning beat will agree you won this.”

  “I did have some notes,” I added, “but nothing major, and nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow. You really did knock this one out of the park.”

  “Is the crew still here? Let’s get everyone together and go out and celebrate.”

  “Ooh, I could go for a half-price margarita,” Jane agreed.

  My phone buzzed, and I pulled up the message. It was a picture of steamy lasagna with a hand in the corner flourishing at it on display.

  Jackie: THIS is what a real meal looks like

  Jackie: not your leftover take out

  I smirked and typed back quickly.

  Oh please, I get by just fine being fueled by Chinese takeout and coffee. It’s California. Chinese takeout is basically its own food gro
up.

  The reply came unsurprisingly quickly. I could practically see the shocked and disappointed look on her face.

  Jackie: i worry about you

  Jackie: i could be persuaded to save you a slice or 2

  My phone buzzed with another message, this one of Jackie with a fork in her mouth, face twisted in exaggerated pleasure. A row of excessive food and smiley face emojis lined the bottom of the photo.

  Jackie: just think if you were to come over right now you would have this amazing cheesy goodness

  Jackie: ;)

  “You could bring her, you know.”

  I snapped my head up to stare at Jeffrey. Dick and Jane had left without me noticing, but he stood there with this hands in his pockets and a knowing smile on his face.

  I realized I was grinning and quickly schooled my face into one of neutral confusion, but I knew I had already been caught.

  The first thing on my lips was a denial. A knee-jerk reaction to keeping my personal life as closely held as I could with a campaign in the public eye. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t like that, but the truth was, I didn’t know what it was like. Jackie was fun and easy—easier than most thing in my life. Things were casual. So what if my fingers itched to text her when I passed a coffee shop just so I could tease her about it. So what if I’d grown accustomed to her warmth pressing against me while I pored over paperwork.

  Guilt found its home in my stomach for what felt like the hundredth time. Jeffrey was trying to be open and inclusive, and I wanted to include him. It felt important to, somehow, but—not now. Not yet.

  “Maybe next time,” I said softly.

  He nodded, smile never wavering. “Go and enjoy yourself, boss. This is just as much your win as it is mine.”

  Part of me felt like I should protest, but an even bigger part was thinking about cheesy lasagna and puns and a laugh that could give the California sun a run for its money.

  The guilt in my stomach turned into something sad but pleasant. Actually, that was the way I felt around Jeffrey most of the time now. “I’m buying you breakfast tomorrow, Senator.”

  “I’m holding you to that!” he called over his shoulder as he walked away.

  I smiled down at my phone.

  You better not eat all of that before I get there.

  From: mmcallister_walsh@gmail.com

  To: gwendolyn.crawford@gmail.com

  Subject: DON’T FREAK OUT

  On the list of things I wanted to see before I went to bed, an email urging me not to freak out in all caps was pretty low on the list.

  It was my own damn fault for checking it before bed in the first place. I dragged myself out of bed and opened the laptop sitting on my desk. My day off had started at seven, and the plan was to catch up on all the lost sleep I’ve accumulated since the start of the campaign and get back to work tomorrow evening. I really should have known asking for twenty-four hours to myself was too good to be true.

  I opened the email and from Marc and stared at the hyperlink. The first thing I noticed was that it was from the Golden State Conservative, a popular partisan online rag that dealt in scandal and half truths. I rolled my eyes and prepared myself for the worst as I clicked on the link.

  I was not prepared enough.

  CONGRESSMAN’S EX SEEN ON STEAMY DATE WITH LESBIAN LOVER the headline bellowed. Underneath was a blurry, grainy photo, but I had no trouble making it out. It was me, plain as day, coming out of a restaurant with my hand wrapped around Jackie’s arm, smiling. And there was Jackie, wide smile distorted in the gritty pixelation of the photo.

  I couldn’t place what the restaurant was or where it had been taken, but it was unmistakable.

  I switched back over to the email to demand answers when I caught the rest of the body.

  Okay, I know you’re going to freak out, just. Do not read the comments, please? Promise me you won’t.

  So, of course, I read the comments.

  Veteranmike72 HAHAHA!!

  Anonymous she a lib too? Serves him right lol

  2alandoffree lol this is what happens when women date turncoat RINOS they turn lez

  Anonymous Is that who I think it is? One of the WNBA chicks right?

  TRUEPATRIOT1776 how is crawford gunna satisfy his constituents when he cant even satisfy his own his wife?

  I didn’t realize my hands had turned into fists until I had to pry them open to slam my laptop shut. I got up from my desk and paced the length of my bedroom. My mind was a jumble of thoughts, made even more incoherent by the sheer rage I felt boiling in my veins.

  My first thought wasn’t Jeffrey or Dick or the campaign, even though it should have been. Would have been, if this were six months ago.

  But no, my first thought wasn’t about any of that at all. It was Jackie.

  Jackie, who’d had to come to grips with her dream ending prematurely while battling tabloids, holier-than-thou sports commentators, and her own personal demons. Jackie, who had spent the majority of her retirement so far trying to lie low and out of the spotlight because it was traumatizing the first time around. She’d never asked for any of this.

  Because of me, she was being dragged into political mudslinging, where she didn’t even have a real voice.

  I didn’t care much about my own personal injury. My divorce had only been news because Jeffrey and I were opposing senators and the conclusion seemed to justify everyone’s preconceived notions. The exact reason for our divorce had never been discussed in the papers, but I’d also never tried to hide my sexuality. If it was still a secret, it was the worst kept one on the Hill. I wasn’t ashamed of my sexuality. I’d spent too many years being ashamed to start living that way again now, in my forties. The article angered me not because I felt outed, but because it felt as if my own story had been hijacked. I was no longer in control of my own narrative.

  I left my bedroom and went to the kitchen. My fingers were still shaking as I grabbed a mug and started up the coffee maker. I belatedly realized it was the kitten mug. I warmed at the thought of Jackie despite our current situation. Suddenly I wasn’t as thirsty as before.

  I should call her. She deserved to know before it became a thing. If it became a thing.

  Just as I went back to the bedroom to grab my phone, it buzzed. I checked the ID and sighed.

  “You saw,” I said by way of greeting.

  Jeffrey’s voice was calm and even. “I did. How are you feeling?”

  I stared down at my mug and tried to process the feelings jumbling inside of me. Anger. Embarrassment. Guilt. Even more anger. “I don’t know. How about you? How are you feeling about this?”

  “It doesn’t matter how I feel. It was your privacy that was violated, Gwen.” Jeffrey actually sounded bewildered, as if he didn’t understand the political implications of a hit piece like this. Even if voters ignored it, which they should have, it was still a distraction, and upsets thrived on distractions.

  “But it’s your campaign. With the people focused on this, they’ll be less focused on your policy ideas.”

  “Hold on, hold on. We don’t know if it’s actually anything at all yet. The Golden State Conservative isn’t exactly The New York Times. No one but alt-right basement dwellers and conspiracy-happy conservatives even read it.”

  “If the masses had intellectual integrity, we wouldn’t have to campaign this hard, now would we?” I sighed. Jeffrey was right, the Conservative was a very niche publication. The amount of people who would read it, let alone take it seriously, was small. Plus, the people who read it weren’t likely to vote for Jeffrey in the first place.

  The line was silent for a beat. I strained to hear any background noise, but only caught the faint droning of an infomercial.

  “Dad wants to have an emergency campaign meeting. At my place.”

  I checked the time. 9:12 p.m.

  “Okay,” I said, already feeling defeated. I didn’t exactly have room to argue.

  “I know this was supposed to be the start of your day of
f, I’m sorry. I’ll see you in twenty. And, Gwen? Don’t beat yourself up, okay? You didn’t do anything.”

  “I know,” I told him, and I did. I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong. I’d gone on a date with my girlfriend; there was nothing wrong with that.

  So why did I still feel so guilty?

  All in all, the emergency meeting took almost two hours. Two hours of me dealing with Dick’s passive-aggressive bullshit, Jeffrey’s solemn concern, and the rest of the staff’s uncomfortable looks. I all but sprinted out of the house when it was over.

  I mulled the meeting over in my mind when I got home, beelining for my now-cold coffee. I drowned it and frowned at the taste as I made my way back to the kitchen to refill my mug. I could never let coffee go to waste.

  It had been a small miracle that the emergency meeting hadn’t been as explosive as I’d anticipated. My bet would be Jeffrey had talked to Dick before any of us got there and calmed him down. As it stood, in place of bitten words and jibes, Dick had levelled me with fake sympathy and not-so-subtle hints that I should step down from the campaign. The implication, even now, sent a heatwave of anger across my skin. If it hadn’t been for Jeffrey and Jane, everything would have devolved quickly.

  I silently applauded myself for keeping my voice even the entire time.

  Jane. I thought about her presence there as I watched the coffee slowly drip into the mug. There was no doubt in my mind Dick had brought here there for a reason. From the get-go, he’d wanted me ousted from this campaign, and Jane in my place. Maybe he thought this would be the catalyst needed to get everyone on board with the idea. I curled my lip. Fat fucking chance.

  The coffee maker beeped and distracted me from my increasing bitter thoughts. I barely waited for the liquid to cool before I took a sip. I wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight.

  I grabbed my phone from the bedroom and called Jackie before I could lose the nerve. She had a right to know, after all. This involved her as much as it involved me.