The Politics of Love (A Romantic Comedy)

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The Politics of Love (A Romantic Comedy) Page 17

by Ines Saint


  "I don't know what it is Jake does to me, but from the moment I laid eyes on him, I've been asking myself 'what if'? What if that guy over there watching me asked me to dance? What if I let him hold me in his arms? How would that feel? Next thing I knew we were dancing, and being held by him felt so exhilarating, it scared me. And I didn't even know his name!"

  "It certainly looked exhilarating." Graciela chuckled softly, and smooth Kayla's hair.

  "After that night, I'd catch myself wondering what would have happened if I hadn't walked away? What if I had stayed and danced with him in the rain? It was lovely to imagine us dancing close and reveling in those feelings because I didn't think I'd ever see him again. But then I did see him again, and I got to know him, and despite our arguments, I liked him. And when I wasn't closely policing my thoughts, my mind would wander, and I'd catch myself picturing a kiss. Then I'd tamp it all down because I knew it would be too incredible... and then it was. Now I'm so lost, I don't know what to think."

  Her mom tenderly cupped her cheek. "Allow yourself one more what if. What if you let go of your fears over what might happen, and let yourself live in the moment? You can't control the future, hija, and you can't control other people or their feelings or their actions. It took me a long time to accept that, even when I always knew the risks of your father's job. That someone else could take him away..." She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "But in the end, I had to accept it because I had no choice. You can't control what you can't control. All you can do is live."

  Kayla wiped a tear from her eye and hugged her mom to her again.

  She couldn't tell her a part of the story. If her mother knew Jake had told Jess that their weekend hadn't been special... she wouldn't forgive him. The thought bothered her because she was starting to ask, what if again.

  * * *

  Jake arrived at his aunt's palatial, lakefront residence on the North Shore in the midst of a thunderstorm, and braced himself for the trying evening ahead. Thankfully, he was first received by a smiling Melissa, a blonde beauty and the discreet daughter of an old family friend. They’d gotten together, no strings attached, in the past.

  Out of habit, Jake smiled back and leaned in to say something, but nothing came out. He couldn't even lean in close enough to whisper. He had nothing to say.

  Looking back, he realized he hadn't even glanced at another woman since Kayla had stepped into his campaign headquarters and back into his life. Kayla, who'd thought so little of him, she'd basically accused him of only caring about the mayoral race, and not about her.

  Disappointed and determined to regain his sense of self, Jake forced himself to flirt.

  But it fell flat. She gave him a knowing look and turned away, and that’s when Jake met with his mother's disapproving glare.

  "What are you up to?" She walked up to him in a cloud of expensive perfume, perfectly coifed hair, and suspicion.

  "Nothing. I'm here to make nice and leave as soon as possible."

  "Don't do anything that has even the slightest chance of ruining your future, Jake Kelly," his mother warned, her voice as stern as he'd never heard it.

  "My candidacy is in the crapper. Don't worry about it."

  "That's not the future I'm talking about!" she exclaimed. "If I were talking about your candidacy, which I'm not, I'd tell you it was at its best when people thought you were with Kayla, the fact that you had fallen for someone as real as her said good things about you, and it made people feel like they could get to know you. And getting to know you has always been the real issue."

  Jake ran his hand through his hair and down his face, his patience hanging by a thread. "That I fell for her was rumor, not fact. Please don't mention her to me again."

  "Fine, I won't mention her. I'll only say that if you want to throw it all away over a friends-with-benefits buddy, also known as a—" Stunned, Jake covered his ears. "—buddy, that's your prerogative," his mom finished when he brought his hands down.

  Jake looked around to make sure no one had heard his mother.

  "That's right, I said what I said, and I don't care. I've been prim and proper my whole life and what did that get me? A whole lot of heartache, and an emotionally warped son who doesn't care if he never gives his mother grandchildren and the redemptive golden years that will come with them!" She stormed off.

  It occurred to him that it was the second time that day that someone had told him that people only wanted to get to know him. What was it they wanted to know? His whole platform was out there, transparent and in the open.

  * * *

  Christmas Day arrived with a big, loud, happy mess of family and a mix of cultural traditions at the Diaz home. Her mom, still celebrating that Kayla was back home and finding success, had both sides of the family over for dinner. Over banter, music, and food, it was hard not to get caught up in the high, festive spirit.

  Even Chris, Mia's dad, had come. Apparently, he ditched his daughter when invited to visit, but showed up when he wasn't expected. At the moment he was horsing around with Mia as if he were the father of the year. Mia's gleeful, animated squeals made everyone smile, even Tania, who always found the strength to welcome Chris and behave civilly in Mia's presence.

  But at a certain point, when everyone had eaten, and the noise and party atmosphere began to wind down, thoughts could no longer be avoided.

  Somewhere in Kayla's heart, she was feeling hurt and guilty all at once. The last couple of weeks had been brutal on Jake, and even after every appearance, explanation, and press release regarding his so-called love-shack scandal, he was still down in opinion polls.

  Kayla watched Chris saying goodbye to Mia, and caught him shooting a side-long, unhappy, regretful glance at Tania. It was obvious Chris loved her sister as much as he was capable of. Different people were capable of varying sums of love. It was just in the nature of her family to love deeply and hurt deeply.

  The next morning none of what had kept Kayla up most of the night mattered anymore.

  An early morning phone call informed her that the world was forever changed for both Jess and Jake, and all she knew was that she loved them both, no matter what type or sum of love it was, and that she would do anything to ease their pain.

  Filip had died in his sleep.

  * * *

  Kayla arrived at the wake on her own, unsure of her ability to speak comfort. As soon as she saw Jess, she knew words weren't necessary. A simple, heartfelt embrace and a hand to hold was what her friend needed from her. They sat down, and Kayla listened and tried hard not to cry as Jess spoke softly, her tears overflowing.

  Jess had been the one to find Filip early morning the day after Christmas, and she didn't think she'd ever be the same. When she grew silent, Kayla tentatively asked Jess to tell her about Christmas day, and soon Jess had a watery smile over the good times they'd had.

  Kayla also learned that a shocked, grief-stricken Jake had been the very first visitor, and without knowing what she was doing, she tried to reach out to him, in her heart and mind, to hug him close.

  A picture of Filip and his wife, Alana, on their wedding day, sat on one side of the casket. On the other, a picture of the last family picture before Alana died, with children and grandchildren all surrounding the still happy couple, a reminder that so much of Filip and Alana lived on.

  It was hard to keep her thoughts from wandering to her own father's wake and funeral. Her father had simply been alive, then gone. Ripped away. There had been misery and despair and anger because it wasn't his time. But inside all of that pain, there had been love and gratitude, too, that such a wonderful man had been part of their life for any amount of time.

  * * *

  The day of Filip's funeral was especially cold. Kayla, along with Robbie and her family, arrived at Mt. Olive Cemetery behind the procession. Jake, who had been a pallbearer, was now standing apart from the crowd, and she ached at how palpable his grief was. He stood straight, while his mother held on to his arm, but his bearing w
as heavy and strained. The sky was grey and full of dark clouds, but he was wearing sunglasses, and he was pale. The kids from the youth centers turned up in force, and they stood around Jake as if forming a protective barrier.

  Filip's family gathered around the open grave as the casket was lowered, and a few cries and muddled sobs filled the air. As anguished family members huddled around each other, Kayla looked away, not wanting to intrude on that final moment.

  People began to press forward, to offer condolences to the family, and Kayla hugged Jess and her parents again.

  She moved to the edge of the crowd, to wait for her mom, when she saw Jake, standing alone, his hands in his pocket, and his head down. She walked over and stood in front of him for a moment, again unsure of her ability to comfort. When he looked up, she hesitantly got up on her tiptoes and hugged him as close to her as she could, and whispered how sorry she was in his ear. Jake hugged her back with a fierceness that made the tears she'd been holding back begin to flow. She'd felt as if she had no right to cry. However much she loved Filip, she felt it was the people he was closest to who had the right to suffer. But her tears now were for Jake's and Jess's loss and pain.

  His deep voice broken and filled with concern, he unexpectedly said, "You've lost weight. Is everything all right with you?" Jake was, at that moment, raw. And that at such a moment he would worry about her...

  "Um, yes. I've been busy, that's all. But you're looking pale... Please take care of yourself, Jake." She squeezed his hands hard, wanting to convey how worried she was about him, too.

  "You, too," he said.

  * * *

  Jake hadn't been able to watch as the casket was lowered, hadn't wanted that to be his final memory. He'd always hold on to that last hug on Christmas Eve, and his friend's parting words. Filip was with his wife again, and that was where he wanted to be.

  He looked out onto the scene, and memories of his father's funeral came back, even when he tried to block them. There had been two awkward sides. His mother, Jake, and close friends and family on one side, sober and distant, and his new wife sobbing uncontrollably and, well, unbelievably, on the other side. It had been uncomfortable, to say the least.

  Filip's family was united in both their pain and their celebration of his life. Filip and Alana, just two people, bound forever by a devoted and affectionate extended family whose existence made the world a better place.

  A few anguished cries reached him, and he shut the painful sound out by reliving word for word his last conversation with his oldest friend. And then Kayla standing in front of him, looking unsure of herself. But her touch, her words, her feelings soothed him as nothing else had, and he held her as close as he possibly could, wishing she wouldn't leave him.

  She felt thinner than the last time he'd held her, and protective instincts took over. On a deeper level he couldn't control, he knew there was nothing he wanted more at that moment than to go away with Kayla again and just be. Lately, it was all he could think about, and it was why an undercurrent of fear had been running through him as of late.

  "It's so hard to let go," Jake heard Shane, a boy who often played chess with Filip at the Pilsen center, say behind him.

  Jake was sure of just one thing. In order to move forward, he had to let go of something. He just wasn't sure what, but he knew he'd better figure it out. He wanted to make Filip proud.

  Chapter 14

  "I'll do it," Jake said.

  "You'll do it," Marcus repeated, his voice full of doubt.

  "You'll do it?" Jess's hand went to her heart, and for the first time in days, excitement crept into her voice.

  "He'll do it!" A teenage girl shouted out.

  A few of the boys looked disgusted. "You've got to be kidding!"

  "You're giving up!"

  "Stay strong! Don't give in!"

  "It was Filip's last piece of advice," Jake explained to them all.

  Silence filled the air. It was New Year's Eve, and Marcus, Jess, and Jake were over at the Youth Center for their annual New Year's Eve brunch. They'd agreed to talk about anything but politics, but that became impossible because that morning the interior decorator’s soon-to-be-ex-husband surfaced. And instead of issuing the truthful denial Jake was expecting, the man blamed Jake for the impending divorce from his wife. "I caught Candace and Jake in bed in the Victorian House he said he was going to hire us to renovate," was the only infuriating statement Jake had needed to read before tossing the paper. He couldn’t bring himself to read it. The summary Jess gave him was enough. Not only did the man sound devastated, but he sounded like he also felt sorry for his wife, who Jake had supposedly led on at a vulnerable moment in her life. All in all, Jake came off like a callous jerk who had hurt them both. And where was Candace Stiles? She and Jake hadn’t seen eye to eye because she’d kept inserting her husband’s business into the conversation. But Jake was a good judge of character and the woman had seemed embarrassed and resigned about it, emotionally beaten down even, but not pushy or opportunistic. She’d never even made it past the first floor, admitting to him she didn’t think a business relationship between them would work out.

  But Jake's opponents were lapping it up, practically commending the woman for 'hiding and trying to protect him.'

  Jess pounded her fist on a table. "Grandpa Filip would not want us to endlessly mope around, trying to get things done. Look at our plates, we haven't even eaten!"

  Jake managed a smile. "He'd be pretty exasperated with us."

  "Yeah. Jake finally decides to go on She Said, She Said, and we can't get our butts off our chairs to make the call," Marcus agreed.

  Marcus and Jess looked at each other, one moment nodding their heads in agreement, the next humping out of their chairs.

  "Go across the street and find that contract they emailed you a while back, and I'll make the call," Jess said Marcus.

  Jake picked up the Tribune, flipped to the page with the latest poll numbers and was first surprised, and then disgusted to see his numbers had inched up. Political analysts were quoted as saying it was the 'mourning' factor. The public knew Filip had been like a father to Jake, and he had now their sympathy. Score a few votes for him because he'd lost somebody he loved. It didn't make sense to him.

  He threw the paper down and made a real effort to try and understand. People wanted to get to know him, both his mother and Filip had said. He breathed hard, trying to get it. Maybe it wasn't a 'mourning factor.' Maybe that was giving too many people too little credit. Maybe they understood how close he'd been to Filip, and they identified with his grief.

  He got up, walked to the window, and gazed outside. The steps in front of Chicago Youth Works were empty. It was too cold for any of the kids to be outside.

  People wanted to get to know him. When they'd seen him jumping from one date to the next, they'd thought him shallow. When they thought he was with smart, spirited Kayla, they felt there was more substance to him, and they felt a connection.

  It dawned on him that, even though he still thought the public should pay more attention to his ideas than to his personal life, on a certain level they were right. Hadn't Jess told him time and time again that most people couldn't relate to him the distant serial dater?

  They did, however, relate to the type of man who could fall for a hard-working, talented, kind, and outspoken woman, and they could relate to a man who could forge a deep, meaningful friendship with a wise and generous man.

  And wasn't that who he really was? The guy who had fallen hard for Kayla and the guy who'd loved Filip like a father?

  "Hey Jake, this says—" Marcus pointed at the contract and began to speak, but Jake put his hand up and interrupted him.

  "Wait a second, I think I'm having one of those epiphanies people talk about," he said. Marcus put his hands up and laughed.

  Jake sat down on the window sill. So all along, the people of Chicago had been trying to tell him to open up, and they'd responded each time he had. It was all too confusing. Leadi
ng, apparently, was about more than having a great plan.

  Jess walked in then, her eyes bright, and Jake finally smiled because Jess was back, just as Filip would want her to be. "They're beyond excited to have you on, Jake, and they're even moving things around because they want you on today! New Year's Eve is their highest rated show of the year because they give a bunch of stuff away to viewers. They think having you on as a guest on the last day of the year will be icing on the cake because, you know, they've been teasing you to come on for months. But they need to know right now, they need to add you to the promos now. What's it going to be?"

  "Today? On New Year's Eve? I don't know." Jake panicked, raked a hand through his hair, and turned to Marcus. "What does their contract say? I mean, if I agree to go on, can they literally skewer me on live television?"

  Jess rolled her eyes at him, but Jake shook his head at her. "No, listen, I wouldn't put it past them to host a Jake-on-a-stick barbeque, where everyone takes turns asking personal questions and then roasting me if I can't let go and answer." Jake was serious. His fear of those women was real. Especially the hippie. He thought he'd have more time to prepare for battle. The elections weren't until the last Tuesday in February. He could go on in a few weeks.

  "The contract won't change whether you put this off or not," Marcus said, reading his thoughts. "It says you can choose one topic to be off-limits, but everything other than that will be fair game. Don't overthink it. Tell us what you don't want to talk about, show up, and let go."

  "Do it, do it, do it, do it!" The kids in the room began chanting, louder and louder.

  "Traitors," he jokingly threw at the boys who had been disgusted with him moments before. He took in a deep breath and let it out. "Tell them I'll be there." Everyone cheered.

  "What topic will be off-limits?" Jess asked.

  He nearly panicked again. So many came to mind. His relationship with his dad, because it had been so bad. His relationship with Filip, because the idea that it could ultimately help him politically repelled him and was simply gross. And Kayla, because he didn't want her dragged into anything again, and because he wouldn't know what to say.

 

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