“Oh yeah, what’s that?”
“When you say I’ve been ignoring Sonoma County, I can say that the area is represented by such accomplished and effective county supervisors like yourself that you don’t need me.”
“Now what does that get you?”
“Well, I think I just got a smile from you.”
She looked down and shook her head. “Flattery will get you nowhere with me.”
“That’s too bad.”
As they shared a smile, Lily once again felt that same giddy anticipation she had when he flirted with her. It was a feeling of warmth and fun, and a special excitement otherwise lost from her life. His hazel eyes lit up with mirth, like an invitation to dance with him. She took a deep breath, because she knew if she wasn’t who she was and he wasn’t who he was, she would gladly take his hand.
Her better—or at least her more cautious and realistic—angels fought to be heard as a small voice uttered one question inside her head. Why? Why is he doing this?
All of Jordon’s warnings came back to her. She had nine months before the primary the following June. If she kept up this flirty banter with him for nine months, at a minimum it would distract her from her goal. At worst, he’d use it against her. Regardless, it would be a problem, and there was no reason for her to be running for Congress if she couldn’t handle herself around another candidate. Things needed to change.
Her smile faded as determination set in. Speaking up for her better angels, she called the question. “Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you have some kind of grand plan with this flattery?”
“No…”
“Are you sure you don’t have an agenda?” She raised an eyebrow.
“What are you getting at?” His expression had changed from playful to one of concern.
“I don’t know…” She intentionally trailed off her voice, though it was obvious there was no confusion in her thoughts. She was on a mission to find out what his intentions were with her. “It just seems odd for you to be flirting with another candidate.” Her eyes bore into him. “Why are you doing it?”
“Uh…” He took a step away, both physically and mentally taken aback. “Well, I would say that we met under a different circumstance than the one we find ourselves in now.”
“True, but things have changed.”
“Yes, but there’s no reason we can’t be friendly with each other.”
“You want to be my friend? That’s the reason why?”
“What other reason would there be?”
“You could have another agenda.”
“Do you think I’m messing with you? I’m being deceitful?” He asked the questions, but his voice was full of realization he’d hit upon what she was getting at.
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “I don’t know you. I just know it’s not a good idea that you’re saying these things to me.”
He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe her words. “I suppose I can see what you’re insinuating, but let me tell you, that’s not the case.”
“Really?”
“I …” He stopped and stared at her. When he spoke again, it was in awkward exasperation. “I don’t have an agenda. I’m not trying to screw you over somehow. I enjoy talking with you—just like I did when we first met, and I thought you did too. I’m sorry if I got carried away.”
His words touched Lily’s heart. She wanted to believe him because she liked talking with him also, but if she took what he said as the truth, it simply conjured up a whole new set of problems. She glanced out the window for a moment and again hardened herself to her goal. She was running for Congress to win—not to find a guy.
She looked back up and said flatly, “Regardless of how we met, I’d appreciate it if you treated me just as you would any other candidate.”
Jack’s nose twitched as if he’d heard something annoying. “I’m friendly with everyone.”
Lily hated being caught in a circular argument, and a circular situation was even worse. Already frustrated by her predicament, the irritation in his voice bothered her even more. When she saw Jordan step out from the double doors and wave her inside, she lost her patience altogether. She glared at Jack and muttered, “Then on second thought, you should treat me differently. Don’t be friendly to me at all. It will be better for both of us.”
With a quick turn, she headed straight to the doors where Jordan stood with an impatient scowl. Though Jack’s voice rose behind her, “Lily…,” she didn’t look back.
***
After the event, Jack stood outside speaking with members of the Del Norte Chamber of Commerce who had driven down from Crystal City. The conversation flowed easily, and Jack felt he was making headway with them. No thought of Lily entered his mind at all. He had a unique ability to divorce negative feelings from his drive to win. At that moment, his entire concentration was focused on showing the man and woman in front of him that a San Francisco liberal could understand the concerns of rural California.
As he spoke about recent bills in the state legislature, a soccer ball rolled up to where they stood. For over twenty-five years, Jack had played soccer and still continued to play a pick-up game a few times a month. His movements around a soccer ball were as innate to him as walking. When the ball rolled up, the two others immediately took note, by first glancing down at the ball and then looking for its owner.
Jack paid little heed. A glimpse of the ball caused him to react as if a stranger had accidentally bumped into him from behind. He responded without interrupting a second of his speech. His right foot trapped the ball, and his left firmly kicked it away. He didn’t look around or miss a beat as he spoke.
Less than a minute later, the ball returned to the threesome, and he again was the only one not to find its owner, though this time his eyes drifted downward in curiosity as to what was at his feet. The sight of a rogue ball was second-nature to him, so he didn’t think twice about another kick off to the side. He knew he’d sent it off with a force that ensured it wouldn’t return.
When the ball came back, swift and hard, it hit him on the right foot. The speed and strength behind the ball was enough to shift his attention along with that of his companions. It wasn’t a stray ball rolling around the grass—someone had intentionally passed it to him. Though he was in dress shoes, he reacted as he would on the field if one of his teammates had playfully sent him a ball. With his left foot, he moved the ball just far enough behind him so he could kick it up to his hands. After his little kick, the couple from Del Norte laughed and complimented him, while he looked for the ball’s owner.
Twenty feet away from him stood a young boy dressed in a shiny yellow soccer uniform, with long yellow socks and muddy cleats. Jack smiled and lifted the ball toward him. “This yours?”
“Yes,” the boy answered eagerly. “You’re good. Will you play with me?” A few seconds passed before he quickly added a “please” as if he’d remembered his manners.
Jack tossed the ball to the boy and laughed—as did the couple from Crystal City. They said they should let Jack go and talk to other people. Shaking their hands, he said goodbye and turned around. The crowd from the event had dwindled to only a few, and he’d spoken with most of them. He spotted the boy again, who seemed to have resigned himself to playing alone as he slowly dribbled the ball.
“Hey!” Jack called. “Do you still want to play?”
The boy turned and grinned. “Sure!”
Spying some stairs near the boy, Jack walked over to the railing and hung his sport coat over it. He rolled up his sleeves and turned to the boy. “I’m not wearing my cleats, so you need to give me a break.”
“That’s okay.” He kicked the ball over to Jack.
Once again trapping the ball underneath his foot and flicking it up to catch it, he walked over to the boy and extended his hand. “My name is Jack Bengston. What’s yours?”
“Luke Harris.” Still smiling, he shook Jack’s hand. “Can we play now
?”
“Sure.” Jack chuckled. He looked off into the distance. “But where are your parents?”
Luke pointed to a bench where an elderly man sat reading a newspaper. “That’s my grandpa. We’re waiting for my mom.”
“Okay.” Jack nodded to the bench. “Why don’t you introduce me to him?”
The request for an introduction wasn’t motivated by Jack’s desire for a potential vote. He simply wanted permission to spend time with the boy.
Jack followed Luke to the bench where the man was engrossed in The Wall Street Journal. He heard Luke say something to the man, but Jack didn’t understand it and the man didn’t move, so Jack extended his hand. “Hello, sir. My name is Jack Bengston. I’ve met your grandson, and he asked me to kick the ball around with him. Is that all right with you?”
Whether it was from failed hearing or his concentration on the paper, the man startled when Jack spoke. “Ah! I’m sorry. I didn’t catch all of that. At my age…,” he said with a thick accent. He smiled and shook Jack’s hand. “I’m Pablo Robles. You’ve met my grandson?”
Jack smiled because he didn’t want to admit that he also hadn’t caught the man’s name. The man’s accent was simply strong, and Jack was distracted wondering about the exact lineage of this fair-haired boy and this dark, Latino man.
Bouncing with excitement, Luke interrupted the conversation. “Please, Abuelo. Can we go play on the field over there?”
The grandfather responded in Spanish and pointed toward the field, and Luke replied in Spanish as well. Jack’s knowledge of the language was limited, but when the man waved them goodbye with a smile, he saw they’d received his blessing.
Jack nodded. “Thank you, sir. We won’t be long.”
The grandfather nodded and returned his attention to the paper.
As they kicked the ball around the field, Jack asked Luke about his team and how long he’d been playing. He would’ve asked more questions, but Luke was focused solely on the ball. He’d comment on their play and occasionally ask Jack to stop and show him how to do a maneuver.
Twenty minutes after they’d been on the field, Jack was jockeying with Luke for control of the ball when he heard a familiar voice call out, “Luke!”
Luke didn’t stop and stole the ball from Jack, but Jack turned to look toward the voice. There was Lily, standing with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.
Jack turned back to Luke. “Hey, is she your mother?”
“Yeah, but I don’t wanna stop playing,” he answered, not looking up from the ball.
“You have to.”
Jack looked again at Lily who glared like she might lunge and take him out. He once happened upon a mama grizzly with her cubs in Glacier National Park. For a split second, that same feeling of fear came over him. Only this time, it wasn’t a mortal fear, but rather one of disappointment. He feared Lily thought he was ingratiating himself to her by hanging out with her son.
Wanting to correct the notion immediately, he approached her. “Hi. Sorry about this. Luke is your son?”
She glared at him. “Yes, he is. What are you doing with him?”
Jack held up his hands in surrender and confessed everything. “Listen. Lily. I had no idea he was your son. He asked me to play soccer with him, and I asked where his parents were. He said he was waiting for his mother, but his grandfather was right over there.” He pointed to the bench and took a breath. “I introduced myself to the man and asked if it all right. He said yes, so we’ve just been kicking the ball around for the last few minutes.”
“Aw, Mom…” Luke whined from a few feet away.
They turned to Luke who slowly dribbled the ball over to them. He grumbled with a pout. “I was just having fun. Jack is really good. He taught me some things.”
She smiled, but was firm. “It’s okay, but we need to leave for your game. Go over and get your bag from Abuelo.”
Luke’s shoulders slumped as if he didn’t quite believe he was actually in the clear. He turned to Jack and mumbled, “It was nice meeting you, sir. Thanks for playing with me.”
“No problem, Luke. I had a good time. You’ll do great today.”
As Luke trotted off, Lily’s expression again turned sour and her voice was bitter. “I’m to believe that at no point you knew he was my son?”
“I didn’t. He doesn’t have your last name, and I couldn’t understand his grandfather’s accent.”
Lily looked away as if she were evaluating his evidence. When she turned back, her expression was emotionless. She began walking toward the bench and said, “It doesn’t matter, but don’t do it again.”
CHAPTER FIVE
For the first few weeks after that day, Jack had no problem doing just as Lily had asked—he left her alone. It was easy for him, because he didn’t want to be anywhere near her. She appeared to avoid him as well, except for the occasional icy glare. Though time had passed, her insults still stung, and her current attitude only reinforced his recent conclusion that she was a raving bitch. How could she have thought he was talking to her just to screw her over?
Unfortunately, even if he didn’t want to interact with her, they were at the same events, and he couldn’t tune her out entirely because, after all, she was his opposition. He had to pay attention to what she said in public. The problem was he often liked what she had to say. She was funny, smart, and very gracious, and unlike so many elected officials, she actually cared. She wasn’t faking it. Her facial expressions changed as she listened and spoke, and her speeches were laced with empathy or at least sympathy. He had to remind himself she’d never speak that way
He also watched her from afar and saw her private moments with her friends and family. She joked often with Jordan, and they seemed to be more like best friends than candidate and staffer. More than once Jordan caught Jack watching them, so Jack had to immediately stop looking their way. He always wondered if Jordan then mentioned it to Lily.
Usually her mother or father lurked somewhere in the background. He often couldn’t understand what they said because she’d speak with them in Spanish, but the interactions were interesting. Sometimes her parents seemed like helpful campaign staffers who do as she said when she’d assign a task. Other times, they were the supportive parents of an adult child, standing next to her proudly.
But on occasion, the parent-child relationship of years ago must’ve come back to life. While he couldn’t understand the conversation, Lily would sneer or pout, dismissing them like a fifteen year old. Jack always wanted to laugh when they bickered.
And then there were Luke sightings. He saw Luke two additional times, and at each, Luke waved to him with a smile, but hung close to his mother. Jack would observe as Lily would place a hand on Luke’s shoulder or smooth the back of his hair. Those loving gestures gnawed at Jack. He regretted being so upset by her behavior. He still thought she was being unreasonable, but if Lily really did think he was out to get her, it made sense she wouldn’t want him around her son. Luke was a great kid, and she only wanted to protect him.
A month after their blow-up, Jack was cheery as he strode around the high school auditorium in Marin. Though there were other candidates with ties to Marin, this was his political turf, and with every self-confident handshake and back slap, Jack showed up his opposition. He scanned the room as his opponents introduced themselves to people he’d known for years. It was the most affluent and populated county in the entire congressional district, and Jack’s competition would be lucky to get more than a couple of dollars and handful of votes. Feeling smug, he raised his shoulders in pride of ownership.
After he finished speaking to some donors and friends of his parents, a bitter sounding voice came from his right. “Well, she’s certainly working that Spanish thing.”
Jack turned and saw Herb Yancey, standing next to him with his arms crossed in obvious annoyance.
“Excuse me?” Jack said, his eyes squinting to discover the source of Herb’s attitude.
“Li
ly … or Ursula … whoever she is. She’s only half-Spanish, but she talks to every single Spanish speaker she can find.”
A child of the diverse city of San Francisco, Jack’s racism radar went on red alert. He cleared his throat. “Herb, Lily’s not from Spain.”
“All those countries are the same, right?”
“Uh. No. Just because they speak the same language. They’re different countries. Would you say America is the same as Australia?”
Herb flashed him a look, so Jack continued, “I believe her father emigrated from Mexico. She’s Mexican-American.”
“Hmpf,” Herb grunted with a snide expression. “Whatever she is she’s completely exploiting it. She’s so transparent.”
What an ass, Jack thought, yet he found a civil way to dispute Herb. “You know every time I hear her speak I regret my choice of studying French instead of Spanish, but that’s my fault, not hers. If she can speak Spanish, well, good for her.”
“How can you say that? It’s unfair. She has a leg up on us all.”
“I see where you’re coming from, but do you honestly believe it’s easier for a Hispanic woman to run for office than a white man?”
“Yes,” Herb said flatly. “This is California.”
“Given the composition of the state’s congressional delegation, I have to disagree with you.” Jack gave him the side-eye and walked away.
As he headed toward his seat on the stage, he checked his gut as he realized how upset he was. Sure Herb was offensive, but Jack mixed with troglodytes every day—rich political donors who looked down on everyone, occasionally working class whites who needed someone to look down on to feel good about themselves, and even some of his older relatives who were just backwards. Why was he so offended by Herb?
After he found his seat on stage, he poured himself a glass of water from the pitchers placed on the long table before him. He took the opportunity to search for Lily in the crowd, and he found her busy in an animated conversation with a local reporter. It was the perfect example of what he tried to convey to Herb. Lily was striving hard to get the reporter’s attention for a few minutes, while Jack already had given the reporter a long interview earlier in the day. The reporter wrote for a paper that had long supported Jack in its editorials. Though Jack had gained the newspaper’s respect by his own work over time, he knew the initial support he received had everything to do with the fact his parents were best friends with the paper’s publisher.
More Than Rivals Page 5