The Longer The Fall

by Aviva Gat

  Madeline came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist as he continued fiddling with the tie. It was already perfectly straight, as Hunter had spent hours perfecting how to tie the knot before this event. For her part, Madeline was wearing a light blue floor-length dress that she had bought specially for the occasion. It made her look sophisticated, maybe even a little older than 24, but also sexy in an intelligent sort of way.

  The couple took a cab to the art gallery. After hailing one outside Madeline’s apartment, Hunter hesitated by the passenger seat. “You sit in the back with me,” Madeline said light-heartedly, knowing that Hunter had only been in a cab a handful of times in his life. He followed her in the backseat and they sat quietly holding hands until the cab pulled up to the venue. Outside there was a red carpet lining the sidewalk and crowds of people holding their tickets for the events while they slowly mingled toward the doors. Hunter insisted on paying for the cab and followed Madeline out where she was quickly recognized and greeted by an elderly man in a dark suit and red tie.

  “Madeline! Dear!” He said, reaching out for her hand. “I want you to meet my wife, Cynthia. Cynthia, this is the little spark plug I was telling you about. She’ll be running the White House in no time, mark my words.”

  Madeline laughed from the flattery as she squeezed the man’s hand and then his wife’s. “Let’s first get through the chairman election and then we’ll talk about the White House.” Then she turned slightly to grab Hunter’s arm. He was standing behind her, unsure what he was supposed to do. “This is Hunter,” she introduced him to the couple. “Hunter, this is Bill Kensington, he runs the New York Republican Committee and his wife Cynthia.” The couple greeted him politely and then excused themselves to move toward the door.

  Madeline continued to introduce Hunter to everyone she greeted while they waited to get inside. Everyone hugged Madeline and gave Hunter their polite handshakes and soon enough the couple was inside the gallery. They were handed wine glasses and hors d’oeuvres and continued to mingle throughout the room. “Madeline, have you met Mitt Romney? He’s the governor of Massachusetts. I think you two would really get along! Your politics are so similar!” Madeline had heard of the politician, he was a rising star republican who had won a race to lead one of the most democratic leaning states. Mitt was an inspiration for Madeline! Someone who proved that central republicans had a place in America and could easily win over votes from the other side. With approval from Hunter, Madeline allowed herself to be whisked away to meet Mitt and his wife and they surely did have a lot in common, both being in the management consulting world, and being Republicans who supported abortion rights, human and gay rights, limiting greenhouse gas emissions and certain tax reforms. She spent a good part of the evening speaking with Mitt and several members of his fan club who followed him around the gallery that evening.

  From there, she was introduced to other prominent Republicans—both politicians and the (mostly) men behind the scenes that ran the party. She’d exchanged business cards with the national party leader who suggested they have drinks at the next convention and she spoke with Mitch McConnell, the Senate’s Majority Whip, who offered her his mentorship should she ever run for office. A few other leaders promised their endorsements in her future run for chairman to lead the New York Young Republican National Federation, leaving Madeline sure her first election was already won.

  When the evening ended, she was full of adrenaline, but her stomach was empty as there hadn’t been time for her to browse the giant buffet that had lined two sides of the gallery and had been constantly refilled with new refreshments throughout the night. Even as the gallery emptied out, Madeline was still mingling, shaking hands and passing out the last of her business cards to new friends that she promised to have lunch with. She was one of the last people still in the gallery, along with the event organizers who she had thanked and complimented for the successful evening, and Hunter, who was standing by himself in the front corner of the room, holding a glass of wine and watching everybody leave. He had a pleasant smile plastered on his face, but to the other attendees he could have easily been invisible.

  Madeline spotted him and immediately said her last goodbyes and hurried as fast as she could in her nude heels to reach him. When she did, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. He still had the glass of wine in his hand, which he held awkwardly as he rubbed Madeline’s back with his free hand. His kiss was distracted, it wasn’t like the kisses Madeline usually received in return when she kissed him. His lips were flaccid, yet stiff. His arms felt like he was hugging a whale instead of being tight around her. “I’m starving!” Madeline said when she pulled her lips from his. Let’s stop somewhere on the way home. What do you feel like?”

  “I’m not hungry,” he responded. “I got enough of the buffet.”

  “Fine, so I’ll just pick up something quick,” Madeline responded, grabbing Hunter’s wine glass and taking a sip before setting it down on a nearby table. She had been nursing one glass of the wine for the entire night, making sure she did not get drunk but still looked social and fun. She pulled Hunter’s hand and led him out of the gallery toward a pizza place nearby. There were a few other party attendees at the pizza place, sitting together and already eating. They invited Madeline to join them, offering extra slices and sliding on the benches to make room. Madeline looked at Hunter, before declining their offers and buying herself a slice of pizza to go.

  With her pizza in hand, Madeline hailed a cab and led Hunter in while telling the driver her address. During the ride, Madeline devoured her pizza, wishing she had ordered a second slice, while reliving the evening for Hunter. She said things like “You wouldn’t believe who I spoke to!” or “Guess what so-and-so said!” or “Did you see how many important people were there?” Hunter nodding politely, listening to her stories and chuckling when appropriate. This time Madeline paid for the cab, with no protests from Hunter, who followed her up to her apartment.

  Madeline was exhausted. She pulled off her shoes and slipped out of her dress, without noticing Hunter gently taking off the suit that she had daydreamed about earlier. She brushed her teeth, wiped the makeup off her face and crept into her bed, waiting for Hunter to join her. He took a while, first getting himself a drink in the kitchen and showering off before he finally made it. All Madeline wanted to do was snuggle up against him and fall asleep. Her brain was exhausted as was her body from standing in her heels all evening. “Did you have fun?” she asked, her eyes already closed as she nuzzled up to his arm.

  “Maddy,” he said. She suddenly realized it was the first thing he had said since they left the gallery. “I can’t be a part of your world.”

  “What do you mean? You’re great. You did great,” she responded, her eyes still closed and her head already drifting off to dreamland.

  “Maddy, did you notice I was the only black person in the room?”

  “I’m sure that’s not true,” she said, her head starting to drift back to being awake.

  “It is true. Do you think that was a coincidence?”

  “Nobody cares about skin color.” Madeline opened her eyes and lifted her head slightly. “Nobody there was paying attention to that.”

  Hunter let out a huff. “I can’t believe those people are your friends. That you want to be like them. They are all racist, self-centered, white supremacists!”

  “What? Where did that come from? They are not, at all! You’re used to meeting my friends. You know that’s not true. You just have a chip on your shoulder and no matter what you’ll be offended.” It wasn’t the first time Madeline and Hunter fought. They had the same fights as all other couples, from getting angry when someone was late—which happened with long commutes on the Subway—or when one of them said something that was misunderstood. They had even had a few fights that had touched on the issue of their skin color, but nothing so heated as this. Never had Hunter thrown out the words racist or white supremacists.

  “Tho
se people want to continue suppressing us!” Hunter yelled. “All they care about is tax breaks for the wealthy, while reducing funding for programs that help people like me! They’re against affirmative action, against funding Medicare, Medicaid and Food Stamp programs! All things that help more blacks than whites!”

  “Hunter, that’s not true, you don’t understand their policies—”

  “I don’t understand? Why? Because I don’t have a fancy degree? Because I couldn’t pay to go to school?”

  “Can you listen for a moment? They want to cut funding because the government doesn’t run those programs efficiently, they could be privatized, there could be better programs—”

  “I’m done listening,” Hunter responded, sitting up in bed. “I’ve been listening all night. I think I’ve heard enough.” He stood up and started putting on the clothes he had worn on his way over, before switching into the fancy Brooks Brothers suit—a ripped pair of jeans and polo shirt which he had once believed was expensive and classy.

  “Hunter, stop, you’re overreacting.” Madeline sat up. “You’re overreacting. Republicans are not racist. Abe Lincoln was a republican!”

  “You all need to stop bringing him up every time someone mentions Republicans are racist. He freed slaves 150 years ago, that’s not a free pass forever.” Hunter gave one last look at Madeline and shook his head. “I just can’t do this.” Then he walked out of her bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him. Madeline stayed in bed even after she heard the click of the front door. She sat there thinking about what she should do. Should she go after him? Should she let him calm down? They’d resolve this fight in the morning. She’d invite him to some of the lunches she planned and he could see republicans weren’t racist. Yes, that could resolve things, she thought to herself as she lay back down in bed. But this night, she was tired. Surely Hunter would call her in the morning realizing he overreacted. They’d kiss and make up like they always did and they’d figure out how to work through this issue.

  The next day, Hunter didn’t call. Madeline went to work, had lunch with a new friend she had made the night before and then went to happy hour with her colleagues. She kept her phone next to her, hoping it would ring, but it stayed silent. After happy hour, she said goodbye to her colleagues and walked home, thankful she had worn flats instead of heels.

  Then the phone rang. Madeline reached into her purse with excitement that dwindled when she didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “Madeline! It’s Bill, how are you?”

  Bill Kensington who ran the New York Republican Committee, the first person she had introduced Hunter to while waiting outside the gallery the previous night.

  “Bill, so great to hear from you. I’m wonderful, how are you? Did you enjoy last night?”

  “You made quite an impression,” he responded. “Dan from the National Committee called this morning to talk about you. He thinks you’re gold. We have to start priming you for your future.”

  His words were everything Madeline would ever want to hear. The National Committee was behind her! With that sort of support, her dreams of changing the world—or at least the US—could be realized.

  “Wow, that’s great to hear.”

  “It is, Madeline, really, you are something special. But listen, life in the spotlight is not easy. You need to show the right image. You need to be more wholesome, more relatable, who you are seen with is extremely important. You need to be careful who you spend time with. Do you understand what I am saying?”

  Madeline understood.

  Chapter 18

  It had been a long time since Madeline and Hunter had spoken when she called him that afternoon from her California Senate Office. Once the conversation had sunk in, she looked down at the papers in front of her and then Jane popped her head in the door.

  “Madeline, it’s time to go,” Jane said. In an hour they would be on a flight to Washington DC for hearings and other important work in the capital. Madeline would even be spending the weekend in DC, attending a few state dinners and other events she couldn’t miss. Then, Monday she would be flying to New York for lunch with the National Republican Committee Leadership to discuss her reelection. Lunch would be followed by an appearance at a YRNF event, dinner and a speech at an AIPAC event and one more late-night appearance at some other charity event that Jane had scribbled in her calendar. Then Tuesday, after her meeting with Hunter, she had a luncheon with the Daughters of the American Revolution, happy hour with a group of women from The WISH List, and then a few more appearances at charity events where she would give a few remarks. She had wanted to take the redeye home Tuesday evening, but Jane had said they wouldn’t make it, so they’d stay an extra night at the Langham and fly back to California on Wednesday. Madeline felt guilty that she wouldn’t see her children that weekend, but she promised Wednesday afternoon and evening, she’d be all there—no phone, no calls, no work.

  Her time in DC seemed to tick by as slowly as possible. It was as though speeches in the senate had become slower, with everyone taking their time as they got out what they wanted to say. She met with a few colleagues to go over her SAVER Bill and each one seemed even more focused on the polite small talk that usually only took up a few short minutes at the beginning of conversations. This week, everyone seemed so interested in Brandon and the kids! What were they up to? How was CyTech doing? What did she think of CyTech’s big new release? She had to mirror this feigned interest in her colleagues’ spouses and children, listening to stories of missed school plays, crazy nannies, and some spousal gossip that she responded to, acting as though it were as important as the SAVER Bill she needed their support for. Some colleagues gave support. Some mentioned quid pro quo for bills they were working on and some requested a few changes in the bill. Jane sat in all the meetings taking notes to bring back to their legislative team to research and make recommendations to Madeline about what she could agree to.

  At the end of each long day, she called Brandon, her heart pumping every time they were on the phone. She felt like she had been caught, as if she was in trouble. Brandon too seemed a little uneasy, but the two continued their conversations, as though everything were normal. He told her about their daily lives—how Noah’s suspension was over, but he had started daily meetings with his student counselor. How Adam had decided he was going to build a nuclear power plant for the science fair—did Madeline know where he could get some uranium? How Brandon had taken them out for Chinese food on Sunday night and Noah’s fortune cookie promised something big to look forward to. By the end of their nightly talks, Madeline would feel grounded. Reminded about the stability in her life that she so much appreciated, yet feared could tumble at any moment. But sometime between hanging up the phone and when she called the next night, her feet seemed to lift off the ground, she felt like she was hovering and she couldn’t control forcing herself back down.

  Monday she sat through a four-hour lunch with the National Committee, during which they discussed her reelection and what would be her next steps. Another six years in the senate and then she was ready for bigger things. Of course, she needed to accomplish a few things in those six years, getting onto some of the more sought-after committees and turning her name into one recognized in every household. What was her strategy there? The SAVER Bill was her big strategy, she reminded them. Voters loved it and they would never forget something so life changing. With her popularity, it would be easy to get onto the top Congressional Committees. The lunch ended with everyone confident that Madeline had nothing to worry about in her reelection. Although she couldn’t help feel doubt when thinking about the one thing that could jeopardize her reelection. The unresolved blackmail case that could easily blow up on the brink of her campaign relaunch. It would ruin everything. There would be no reelection. No new committee appointments. Likely no SAVER bill. But she didn’t say any of this to her colleagues. She continued through her appearances as though on autopilot, doing and saying the rights things, making everyone
feel they had her full attention when in reality they had so very little of it.

  Tuesday morning finally rolled around. Madeline told Jane she was taking the morning off. She was going to go for a run in Central Park, walk around Columbia and see her old neighborhood. She’d meet her back at the Langham long before they needed to leave for their DAR luncheon. Madeline did start the morning with a short run in the park. Then, after a shower, she had her car drop her at Columbia. She told the driver he could take time off and pick her back up in two hours, right at the university’s entrance. Once he was out of sight, she left the university’s gates and walked into Harlem toward Hunter’s City Council Office. The office was nothing like her Senator office. Hers sat in a giant office building with a doorman and had multiple office rooms and conference rooms with teams of people huddled inside researching and brainstorming for her. Hunter’s office looked like a remodeled convenience store. It stood right at the street with his name and title painted on the front window. Madeline pushed open the door, which rang a soft bell. Inside, Hunter was sitting at a large table in the middle of the office across from a woman and a young boy.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Hunter said to the woman who was rubbing the boy’s shoulders. “Thanks so much for coming in.” The woman and boy thanked Hunter and stood up. Hunter held out his hand, shaking the woman’s and the young boy’s, giving him the same respect he would to any adult. His guests then walked out of the office, averting their eyes so as not to meet Madeline’s.