The Longer The Fall

by Aviva Gat

  She had to attend her reelection campaign launch event. She wanted to tell Brandon that it was important for him to come as well, but she knew she couldn’t. That would make her also drop another ball on her marriage and it seemed like her marriage didn’t have many balls left.

  She would have to attend the event alone, hoping there weren’t too many questions about the absence of her husband. Unfortunately, the absence of a spouse didn’t look good for politicians. It suggested marital problems, which made people uncomfortable. Why should they entrust the country to someone who couldn’t protect their own marriage? Madeline would have to be even stronger that evening to overcome Brandon’s absence.

  This was a big night for Madeline. For so many reasons. In the car, she tried to take a few deep breaths. She wanted to be able to enjoy the evening. After all, this event was part of her dream. She felt like she was being punished for wanting something for herself, wanting to pursue something that took away from her family. For a moment, she wondered if it was worth it. But the moment quickly passed.

  Chapter 29

  Three hours early was considered late for Madeline to arrive for her event. She needed to change her clothes, have her hair and makeup professionally done. She needed to rehearse her speech from the podium, reading it from the teleprompter and practice walking on and off the stage. She needed to learn the choreography for the evening, where she should stand during different parts of the events, how to get from place to place, how to mingle and make everything look perfectly natural and unchoreographed. Jane also needed to go through all the VIP attendees with Madeline and give her talking points for each one—Madeline would need to remember to ask about people’s spouses, children, businesses, it was important for people to feel she had a personal interest in them and remembered everything they told her in previous meetings. With so little time to prepare, Jane went through the VIP list while Madeline’s hair and makeup were being done, screaming over the hair dryer and accepting that Madeline couldn’t respond while her lips were being painted.

  When the event was about to start, Madeline looked nothing less than presidential. There were no bags under eyes even though she hadn’t slept the previous night, and no wrinkles on her face. The gray in her hair had been painted over and she was glowing. She pinned an American flag on the lapel of her brand new, pressed navy-blue suit and was ready to go.

  The room was starting to fill up and waiters waltzed through, passing out hors d’oeuvres and drinks to Madeline’s many supporters. Jane stood with Madeline in the dressing room, for their last few minutes of quiet.

  “This is it,” Jane stated the obvious and smiled admiringly at her boss.

  It was it, thought Madeline. It was a pivotal moment in her career—for the good or the bad. Even with everything going on, Madeline had continued to check her phone to see if news of her infidelity had made the press, but at least up until then, it hadn’t. Her blackmailer had either let it go, or not upped the deadline to her new event. Journalists were already posting live from the events, showing pictures of the décor, and posting sound bites from attendees. Things were going smoothly as planned.

  Jane led Madeline into the room to the first spot in her choreographed movements for the evening. She stood near Jason Bittley, the CEO of a major manufacturing company in her district, and asked about his wife. How was she feeling? If there was anything else she could do while she continued her treatment, please let them know! Jason responded positively, telling Madeline that his wife’s chemotherapy was going well and they were likely on the last round. A full recovery was expected. Madeline voiced her happiness and Jane took notes.

  She then swanned to her next spot for the evening. Where Laura McDermott was mingling with other heads of local think tanks. Laura ran a think tank that supported Republican Libertarians and had created a significant amount of content that swirled the web prior to Madeline’s previous victory. How was her son doing at Stanford? Had he chosen a major? He was loving it! He’d be majoring in International Relations and minoring in French. Laura didn’t understand the minor, but apparently her son found the language interesting, quotes and emphasis around the last word. How lucky our children are that they get to study what interests them instead of studying in sole preparation for a career!

  Jane continued to lead Madeline around the room while taking notes of all her personal conversations. There was no talk of the campaign, nor of any of Madeline’s political agendas. No one mentioned her opponent, Officer Austin, nor did they discuss her upcoming speech. From the conversation alone, it would seem as though Madeline was at a friendly dinner party, with only close friends who didn’t all have their own agendas for attending this bountiful evening. But this is the political dance that one must dance in order to win. Pretend that everything is friendly and perfect, when in truth one misplaced word could tear it all down.

  She shook hands with journalists, smiled for pictures, and deferred all questions to Jane. She could see even the press enjoying the evening, how could they not? With all the free food and alcohol that everyone knew reporters loved.

  Madeline felt elated from the evening’s ballet. She enjoyed the mingling, the handshaking, the smiles of assurance that she shared with supporters. It gave her confidence that she was doing the right thing, that she could win with the troves of support she had behind her.

  When the time came, Jane led Madeline back to the dressing room to have her hair and makeup touched up before her upcoming speech. With adrenaline running high, Madeline and Jane smiled and even joked with one another about their excitement during the evening. Jane showed her some of the pictures that had already been published from the event and Madeline herself was surprised by how bright and sophisticated she looked.

  With her face reapplied and her hair freshly sprayed, she went to the waiting room behind the stage where the speakers for the evening assembled. Aside from Hunter, there was the leader of the California chapter of Republican National Committee, Mark Waldo, who would introduce her, as well as California governor Timothy Boyd who had flown specially to spend an entire half hour at her event. Madeline thanked her guests and introduced them to Hunter.

  “You must be busy these days!” Boyd exclaimed when hearing he was the city councilman for Harlem.

  “A democrat speaking for Madeline?” Waldo said while pursing his lips in approval. “Are you sure you don’t want to switch sides?”

  Hunter used his charm to connect with these older white men, who weren’t used to speaking with men like Hunter. They all voiced their praises for Madeline and the older men returned to their staff to finalize their preparations.

  “How are you feeling?” Hunter asked Madeline when they were alone in the waiting room.

  “Good,” she said and she meant it. She wasn’t nervous about public speaking, in fact, she loved public speaking. She found it empowering, especially when speaking about a cause she cared about, such as her reelection. At the moment, she was glad Brandon couldn’t come with her. She couldn’t imagine having this conversation with her husband by her side. “Jane really loved the speech you wrote.”

  “Glad to hear it,” he said. “What did you think about it?”

  “It could be a bit more refined,” she said with a wink. “But it gets your point across. I liked it.”

  “Well, as it turns out, I Actually wrote a second that I am thinking about giving instead tonight.”

  “Oh? Get it to Jane if you want it on the teleprompter.”

  “I don’t need a teleprompter for this.” Hunter’s eyes narrowed and suddenly Madeline didn’t feel as light and high as she had all evening. “I want to help you, Maddy. I want to help you win, but only if you will help me.”

  Chapter 30

  “You’re on in five,” Jane said to Hunter as she brushed by him. She continued on to talk to Mark Waldo and give him his last handshake before he left the wings to step onto the podium to introduce the night’s speeches.

  “I want to tell you a stor
y about an enthusiastic Columbia student I met almost twenty years ago…” he started saying to a roaring crowd.

  Madeline knew exactly what he was going to say—he was going to talk about her idealism, her hard work, and how she was the future of this country. She didn’t need to listen. She turned her attention to Hunter and pursed her lips in a smile. “I’m not sure what you mean,” she responded to him. “You probably need to speak with a New York Senator about whatever you’re looking for.” Madeline was used to being asked for favors by city officials. They were always lobbying her for funding in their districts—new freeways that needed to be built, agricultural lands that needed to be reapportioned. Senators often stuck footnotes into bills that appropriated funds for pet projects in their states. It was something Madeline hated doing, but it had to be done. After all, all the other senators did it—why shouldn’t she? Especially when she was representing one of the most populated states.

  “This isn’t about politics,” he said quietly, leaning toward her. “I gave you a deadline. Tick tock, according to Jane, there is just under five minutes left.”

  Suddenly Madeline woke up. Her ears, like antennas, caught the signal Hunter was sending and everything made sense. It was Hunter. From the beginning. How could she have been so blind?

  “You want a million dollars or you’re going to ruin my career?”

  “I knew you were smart,” he responded, pulling a folded up piece of paper out of his jacket pocket. “You see, this here is my second speech. It talks about how we met: you were a privileged Columbia student, slumming it with me. Dating me made you feel so good about yourself that you could pretend you weren’t racist and you’re still pretending. But you are racists. Once I served my purpose, you dumped me to get ahead.”

  “I didn’t dump you—”

  “Let me finish telling you about my speech! Then, years later, when you’re busy living your white privileged life in California you come back to me and make love to me. And you act like you really loved me, but then you go back to your white privileged life because you can. And because you chose privilege over love.

  “Everyone thinks that Madeline is the perfect woman—beautiful, an amazing mom, wife, politician—but it’s all a lie. She’s a racist and an adulterer and I have the proof. Once I’m finished talking, all the newspapers in the country will receive proof of Madeline’s indiscretions. See the pictures and then decide if this is the person you want to represent you. The person pretending she wants to fix race issues in America, when she is part of the problem. The person lying to you about her perfect marriage.”

  Madeline held her jaw closed as she listened to Hunter speak. “How did you take those pictures? And Why?”

  “It was pretty easy. I took the picture of you in bed because I wanted to remember the moment. You didn’t even notice when I snapped the camera. The other picture was handed to me.”

  “Other pictures,” Madeline said, but she didn’t wait for Hunter to acknowledge her correction. “Is this revenge?” she asked. “Because you think I dumped you? Or that I used you?”

  “I guess. You’re so privileged that you think you did nothing wrong.”

  “So why do you want the money? If it’s revenge, isn’t destroying my career good enough for you?”

  “Well, I need the money now. You can’t imagine what it costs to get divorced, especially when it’s cross country in California. But I guess maybe you’ll find out soon enough, or you won’t because you white privilege people don’t do that. You’re like the Clintons, you stay together because it’s good for your careers.”

  “You realize that blackmailing me is illegal. That I have an FBI team investigating this. That one phone call to them and you would go to jail. Another expense trial for you.”

  “That was a risk I was willing to take. Because, you see, I know you. If you take me down, I’m taking you down with me. Tell the FBI it was me, and I’ll release everything to the press. I’d go to jail, and you’d be ruined. You’d just go home to your fake marriage—another kind of jail. You wouldn’t do that to yourself. So you see Maddy, we’re in this together. I go down, you go down.”

  Madeline’s thoughts swirled in her head. She had loved Hunter so much, truly loved him, and a part of her still held those feelings for him. She had never believed that race was an issue in their relationship—but was there a chance he was right? That she was so privileged that she could believe that race wasn’t an issue? Would news of her infidelity be even worse because it was with an African American? If she could overcome infidelity—there was a slim chance—she could never overcome racism. There was no rectifying that accusation in politics. She’d never make it to the White House. Her heart started to pound, she could feel beads of sweat collecting around her made up face, but she tried to keep her face straight.

  “Two minutes!” Jane yelled.

  “And if I pay, how do I know you won’t come back in a year and do this again?”

  “You’d have to trust me. I’ll give you all the copies I have of the photographs. And I’ll give you my word.” Madeline wanted to believe she could still trust him. Her heart did, her heart always trusted him, that he would always cherish her the way he once had. “What’s it going to be, Maddy?”

  Madeline looked to the stage where Mark Waldo was finishing his introduction. “Now, things have been difficult in this country lately, especially in the last 24 hours. And Madeline has made it her mission to fix these problems. Tonight, I am happy to introduce one of her long time supporters who proves that Madeline is what this country needs. I’m happy to introduce, Hunter Williams, a democratic city councilman from Harlem, the very district in turmoil right now. Once you see him, you’ll know that if he believes in Madeline Thomas, so should you.”

  “Hunter, are you ready?” Jane stepped toward Hunter, ready to push him onto the stage.

  Her mind had already made a decision, no matter what she believed she needed to do. She knew that she would deal with the consequences later. She would figure out how to pick up the pieces, no matter where they fell. It was what she did. She had no other choice. She nodded to Hunter.

  “I need to hear you say it,” he said.

  “I’ll pay,” she whispered to him. “Please.”

  Hunter ripped up the paper he had pulled out of his pocket earlier and dropped the pieces to the ground. “It’s the right decision, Maddy. You’ll go far. I’ll have a lot of faith in you, really, I do.” He squeezed her hand and then turned toward the stage where Mark Waldo was waiting for his handshake. He shook the man’s hand and clasped the podium with his large, knuckled hands.

  “This country is in need of a revolution,” he began. “There are lots of people proposing how to do this, but very few are looking at the big picture, like Madeline Thomas does. As you probably all know, yesterday an African American young boy was gunned down in my city district. I know you don’t want to talk about that tonight, and I understand that. I also don’t want to talk about it. I don’t ever want to need to talk about these things happening, which is why I am supporting Madeline Thomas.”

  The crowd roared and Madeline closed her eyes. She tried to take in a few deep breaths to calm herself before she would be stepping out and giving her own speech. “Oh my gosh! Can we get makeup back in here?” Jane said. “You are sweating! Are you nervous? You don’t usually get this nervous.”

  “I’m fine,” she responded as the makeup artists leapt at her and started dabbing her face with powder.

  “He’s really something,” Jane said, motioning to Hunter out on the stage. He was something, Madeline thought. His posture, his broad shoulders under his perfectly trimmed suit, he gave off an air of confidence, of assurance that Madeline had loved all those years ago when she used to bring him with her to events in college. She had been so proud of him then, when he spoke eloquently with her peers. He still had that same charm, she thought, watching him leaning over the podium. He had magic in him. “Where did you say you found him?”
>
  “We we’re friends at Columbia,” Madeline responded.

  “Oh, he studied with you?”

  “Sort of,” Madeline nodded as Hunter was about to finish his speech.

  “Now, I know you didn’t come here to see me,” Hunter said with a huge smile on his face. “I’m definitely not the beautiful face you expected, so without further ado, I want to introduce my friend Madeline Thomas!”

  The crowd roared as Madeline walked onto the stage waving her hand at the crowd. Her other hand felt empty. Usually at these events Brandon would accompany her. He would hold her hand and mirror her wave to the crowd in front of them. She clenched her empty fist all the way to the podium.

  “Don’t disappoint me, or them,” Hunter whispered in her ear as they shook hands. She shone her wide smile and thanked him in the microphone for coming. Then she turned to the crowd.

  Chapter 31

  “Amazing job!” Jane clapped when Madeline entered back into the wings. “You are on fire! I video chatted with Brandon so he could see you. He gave a thumbs up. Brilliant!”

  Madeline was handed a glass of water and her makeup artist again attacked her with a brush as Jane continued talking. “Now, we need to get a photo with Joe Gracias from the local ROTC and I also promised Judith Mandelbaum of the Jewish Republicans’ movement that she could have a few moments.”

  “Where is Hunter?” she asked, noticing he was no longer in the wings.

  “Oh, he left, but he said to give you this.” Jane handed Madeline a card from a local Holiday Inn with his room number written on it. “Now, Madeline, maybe you should have him come to the office tomorrow for a meeting, I can have a car get him from the hotel if you want.”

  “That’s all right,” Madeline responded. She took the card and put it in her lapel pocket. She could feel Jane’s curious stare on her. Madeline had never met anyone at their hotel. She could meet in offices, in restaurants, lounges, but not hotel rooms. Jane gave a short grumble, but got back to business. Jane gave Madeline background about the people she had to meet and what she should say to them. She smiled big for photos, both planned and unplanned, and shook hands until her knuckles hurt.