Wendy looked sad. “You know this is the end for me. The socially conservative Catholic Democrats won’t vote for me. And we already know what our party thinks of people like us.”

  Rachel reached her hand out to pat Wendy’s. “It’s not as bad as all that. We can make this work for us.”

  Wendy laughed weakly. “I love your optimism, young lady. We’ll see how it goes. Do we announce before, during, or after the debate?”

  “I’m thinking before or during. I’ll sleep on it. We can run some polls tomorrow morning on a fake candidate announcing they are queer. I can have numbers to you by three o’clock tomorrow on which scenario is best.”

  Wendy nodded. “Thank you, Rachel. For everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I thought we could win, that we could get around this, this—issue.” The word tasted like copper in her mouth. “I hate that I thought that I could hide who I was in order to win public office. I feel dirty about it. Gross. I don’t like all the lying I’ve had to do, and poor Monica.” Wendy put her head in her hands.

  And for the first time in Rachel’s memory, Wendy cried.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Andie planned the day of Derek and Miriam’s wedding perfectly. She got her hair and makeup done at nine. Had a quick lunch at a taco truck down the street from her apartment at noon. She had the two bouquets delivered to her place. By one thirty, she was standing outside in the brilliantly cool October day. Birds were singing in the waving trees, and the air had the smell of fall.

  Derek pulled up to the curb. He was wearing a navy wool suit and even had product uncharacteristically woven through his wavy hair. “Get in, loser, we’re getting married.”

  Andie laughed at the Mean Girls reference. “You ready to do this?” She snapped her seatbelt into place and balanced one bouquet between her knees.

  “As ready as I’ve ever been for anything. Is your phone off?” he asked.

  Andie nodded. “As much as it makes me grind my teeth with anxiety, the phone is off. I swear. For the next—” she checked the dashboard clock “—forty-seven and a half minutes, I am all yours.”

  “It means so much that you’re doing this,” Derek said, pulling into traffic.

  “I couldn’t be any happier to do it,” Andie said sincerely. She tapped her fingers on the armrest. While it was entirely true that she couldn’t be happier, she was nervous being away from her phone on such an important day. But Fisher had been more than happy to step in for the final debate prep. Of course. He wanted her job, after all.

  It was a short drive to the parking garage. Derek parked and he held one of the bouquets while Andie held the other as they crossed the street. Downtown was packed with tourists enjoying the weather.

  “Okay, so I’m going to go ahead and make sure Miriam is secreted away to the proper location,” Andie said. “I know you two don’t want to see each other before you say ‘I do.’”

  “Thanks, Andie. Have Miriam text me when she’s ready for me to come inside.”

  “Will do.” Andie grabbed the second bouquet and rushed inside the courthouse. The building was an architectural marvel, with marble floors and ornately tiled ceilings and walls. Carved wood accents topped off the production. She placed the two bouquets on the conveyor belt for the security screening. Before she put her purse down, she had a tug of wanting to check her phone.

  “Ma’am, please step through.”

  She was hesitating, the iPhone heavy in her hands.

  “Ma’am.”

  “Alright!” she said. She turned it on and dropped the purse onto the conveyor belt.

  “Step through,” the security guard said.

  Andie walked through the metal detector and collected her things on the other side. She slipped both bouquets into the crook of her arm and pulled her phone out of her purse. She checked the screen while she walked away from the security checkpoint.

  Three missed calls, all from Fisher. She glanced around and knew she’d have to hurry. Miriam was expecting her soon. She dialled Fisher’s number, tapping her peep toe high heels on the ground impatiently while it rang.

  “He’s sick,” Fisher said at once.

  “What?” Andie asked, her stomach plummeting from shock and nerves.

  “Lloyd is not feeling well. Tonya drove him home to get some rest. I think he’s just been pushed too hard. I knew we shouldn’t have made that stop in Brownsville last week.”

  Andie felt his words sting her. She had been the one who had suggested the detour, after all. “Yeah, well. We need the votes.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Fisher said. “Aren’t you supposed to be off the grid right now?”

  “Yeah, I just thought I’d check in. I’ve gotta go. Keep me posted via text message, alright?”

  “Yeah,” Fisher said.

  Andie hung up on him. He made her so angry without him even trying.

  “Andie!” She heard Miriam’s voice from a few feet away. “Is Derek out front?”

  “Yeah. You can wait around the corner. I’ll text him.”

  “Isn’t your phone supposed to be off?” Miriam asked. She looked stunning in her vintage, 1950s white dress with a sweetheart neckline and tulle bottom that brushed the tops of her knees. On her feet were red suede pumps. Her dark hair was curled into finger waves.

  “Guilty as charged,” Andie said.

  “Is everything okay?”

  Andie pasted on a forced smile. “It will be. Now, let’s get you married.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Rachel paced back and forth in the room behind the auditorium. There was a big spread of finger food, but she was too nervous to eat. This was Wendy’s dressing room, but there wasn’t a lot of dressing going on. Tom and Gracie were puttering around, fussing over Wendy’s hair.

  “We’ve only got twenty minutes until go time!” Rachel announced.

  Wendy looked strong and confident. “Will you two leave so I can have a few moments alone with Rachel?”

  Tom and Gracie nodded and left the room, both of them giving Rachel a thumbs up.

  “You good?” Rachel asked.

  Wendy nodded. “You’re sure that doing this at the debate is the right call?”

  “That’s what the numbers say. And I always trust the numbers.”

  “And I always trust you,” Wendy said with a smile. She took a deep breath. “I’ve prepared Monica for the onslaught of press. She says she’s ready.”

  “You two have kept a hell of a secret. You’ll have to tell me sometime how you got away with it.”

  “We just never kiss and tell,” Wendy said. She furrowed her brows in Rachel’s direction. “You have a question for me.”

  “I do.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Did—did you hire me because I’m a lesbian, too?”

  Wendy smiled. “I certainly did not. I hired you because you’re highly qualified, intelligent, and articulate. And you’ve been a hell of a campaign manager.”

  Rachel exhaled slowly. “I was just wondering.”

  Wendy nodded. “Natural.” She stood up. “If there isn’t anything else, I’m going to need a few minutes alone.”

  “Of course, Councilwoman.” Rachel walked over to her and took both of her hands. “You’re going to absolutely kill it tonight. I can feel it in my bones.”

  Wendy squeezed her hands. “I love you like my own granddaughter. I hope you know that, young lady.”

  “I do, Councilwoman,” Rachel said. “Kick some ass out there.”

  Rachel stepped out of the dressing room and walked down the hallway. As she turned the corner, she nearly ran smack into Andie. She was wearing a stunning blue dress that looked right out of a Hitchcock film, her blonde hair up in an elegant twist. “Hey—”

  “Not now,” Andie said hurriedly.

  Before she could react, she saw that Fisher wasn’t far behind her. He looked as pissed as Andie did. That could mean nothing good. The two of them disappeared into what looked like a broom closet.

  “Yikes,” Rachel muttered, making her way to the shared green room. Tom and Gracie were huddled in the corner with Tonya from Councilman Grant’s campaign. “What the hell is going on? I just saw Andie and Fisher and it looked like they both were aiming to draw blood.”

  Tom looked at her. “Councilman Grant is still not here.”

  Rachel looked at the clock on the wall, which was wholly unnecessary. She was so in tune with the workings of the evening she was like an atomic clock. She knew perfectly well that there were only fourteen minutes until go time. “Where is he?”

  “At home,” Tom said. “He’s been a little under the weather. The flu, apparently?”

  Tonya shrugged. “Who knows. Andie just told me that she wants your campaign to postpone a few minutes.”

  “And why would we do that?” Rachel asked.

  “We promised a clean campaign. You know Councilman Grant’s age is a huge factor in why people might not vote for him. If they hear he’s sick, well…”

  Rachel checked her watch. “Let me find Andie and talk with her about it.” She paused. “I’m guessing Haverford’s campaign wasn’t willing to lend a hand in this situation?”

  Tonya rolled her eyes. “You guessed right.”

  “Fuckers,” Rachel muttered as she left to find Andie.

  She had a bad feeling that she just couldn’t shake.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Andie and Fisher had carried their green room fight into the hallway closet. They were comically scrunched in together; Andie’s hair bun kept hitting the bottles of bleach stacked behind her.

  Fisher was screaming. “This is all because of Brownsville.”

  “Would you let it go?” Andie yelled back. “We needed that campaign stop. If it had been your idea, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation right now.” Andie crossed her arms. “It’s a pity you didn’t get the opportunity to read the idea for the stop in my notebook so you could steal it,” she said, scathingly.

  Fisher guffawed. “Fuck you. What kind of idiot leaves important political ideas lying around? I did you a favor. I stole it before that bitch who runs Wendy’s campaign got a chance to.”

  Andie’s face fell. “You call another woman a bitch in front of me, and it’s the last time you’ll say that word.”

  “Fuck off, Andie,” Fisher said.

  “Fuck you, Fisher. You’ve been after my job since day one. Don’t think I don’t know that.”

  A dark look crossed Fisher’s face. “Newsflash, Andie. I am the campaign manager. I have been this entire time.”

  Andie laughed. “I don’t see that written down anywhere.”

  Fisher threw his head back and laughed. When he looked at Andie again, there was an intensity in his eyes that almost scared her. “Why do you think we hired you, Andie? Because you’re a woman. Because it looks good for the candidate. It certainly wasn’t your qualifications. You’re a puppet. A voice for me.”

  “You could have just been campaign manager, then,” Andie said, tears of anger stinging her eyes.

  “But it looks bad to have a white man Democrat candidate who doesn’t hire women.”

  The words fell into Andie’s stomach like lead. “You used me,” she whispered. “You both used me. You and Lloyd. From day one.”

  “Of course we did! This is politics, Andie! Welcome to the real fucking world.” He scoffed. “And what did we get for it? Someone whose head has barely been in the game. Your dedication has been lacking. You’re not willing to do everything it takes to win. Because of your morals.” He said the word like it was poison in his mouth. “This is politics, Andie. You’ve got to be willing to play.”

  “So, I’ve heard from you,” Andie said, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him away. “And I’m sorry that you’re so filled with toxic masculinity that you can’t handle a strong woman like me being in charge.”

  “I know you’re fucking Wendy Thompson’s campaign manager,” Fisher said harshly. The words seemed to become stuck on the wall behind her. “I’d say that I’m surprised that a Republican woman hired a lesbo to run her campaign, but seeing as Wendy’s a carpet muncher too, I’m not surprised.”

  Andie’s hand reacted faster than her mouth could. She slapped him. “Fuck you, Fisher.”

  Fisher touched his face where the slap had burned his skin. “Nice to see you have a little fire in your belly.”

  Andie shoved him away from her again.

  At that moment, two things happened.

  Her phone buzzed and the door opened.

  Rachel pulled open the door and stared at them in shock. “We can all hear you out here, you know.”

  “Hello?” Andie snapped into the phone, answering without looking at the screen.

  “Andie?”

  She heard sniffling on the other end of the line.

  “Yeah?” Andie replied, her voice automatically softening in response to the emotion she heard on the other end of the line.

  “It’s Tina,” she said. Lloyd’s wife. “Oh, Andie. He’s in the hospital.”

  Andie listened for another two minutes, then rang off. “We’ve gotta go to Christus Santa Rosa.”

  “What’s wrong?” Fisher asked, concern etched on his face.

  “It’s Lloyd. He’s had a massive heart attack.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  “So much for your big announcement,” Tom muttered to Rachel. They were sitting in the now-empty auditorium. A red, white, and blue balloon floated from the corner of the stage up to the rafters. “What was it that Wendy was going to say, anyway?”

  Rachel pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingertips. “Another day, Tom. I can’t handle this right now. This was our last chance to get our message out to the voters and it was cancelled.”

  “It was the honorable thing to do, to cancel the debate entirely,” Tom said.

  “I know. It doesn’t make it any easier.” She slid down in the folding auditorium chair to stare up at the ceiling. “Do you think we’re going to win?”

  Tom sighed. “I just don’t know. Haverford is an unknown quantity. Voters have been reacting positively to him.”

  “I don’t know what scares me more. Haverford winning, or Haverford losing and knowing that we walk amongst his supporters who think taxation is theft, that we should build a wall between here and Mexico, and that healthcare is a privilege to be afforded only to the wealthy and not a right that all humans should have.”

  Tom let out a slow breath. Rachel could tell he was about to say something big. “What if Lloyd bites it?”

  “Tom!” Rachel said, slapping his arm. “That’s a terrible thing to say.”

  “Oh, come on. It’s not like you haven’t been sitting here thinking the same thing.”

  Rachel sighed. It was true; the scenario had been running through her mind. It would mean it was down to a two-person race, increasing the odds of Wendy winning. “He’s still on the ballot, though.”

  “So we’d need the endorsement of Lloyd’s family and campaign, then?” Tom asked.

  “Yes,” Rachel replied. “The odds of a Democrat endorsing a Republican are—”

  “About as good as the odds of one candidate dropping dead two weeks before the election?” Tom asked.

  “You have a point there,” Rachel replied. Her phone rang. “Rachel Callum.”

  “I need a favor,” Andie said. Her voice was creaky with emotion.

  “Anything,” Rachel said, standing up and walking over to the stage that was empty but for three unused podiums. “How’s Councilman Grant?”

  “We haven’t heard anything,” Andie said. “But back to why I called you.”

  “What do you need? Food? Phone calls? A press release?”

  Andie paused and took a deep breath. “I need you to go take Tom and get drunk tonight on the Riverwalk in my place, okay?”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Andie leaned back in the dirty hospital chair in the packed waiting room. There was press waiting outside the hospital. She wished they would go away. She wanted more than anything to take a step outside for some fresh air.

  Fisher had gone to make phone calls, and Andie was left with an unusually pensive Tonya and all of Grant’s children and grandchildren. The family had packed the space.

  Andie had tried to call Miriam to tell her what was happening, but she hadn’t answered her phone. That was why she had called Rachel. She could have fun in honor of her, and Miriam and Derek wouldn’t be down two guests. She knew that her friends would show her girlfriend what a good San Antonio party was like. They wouldn’t let her down.

  The television had been turned to the local news, but someone had dug up the remote and changed it to VH1. A Flavor of Love marathon was playing. Nobody was watching; someone had mercifully put the show on mute with no closed captions.

  Andie checked her phone out of habit. She didn’t know why; there was no one left to call her. They were all assembled in the waiting room around her.

  She heard sniffling to her right where Tonya was sitting.

  “Tonya?” Andie said kindly. She put her hand on her elbow. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Tonya had her head in her hands and she was shaking she was crying so hard. Some of the grandchildren were looking their direction.

  Andie put her hand under Tonya’s arm and lifted her up. “Let’s go out in the hallway.” She practically had to carry Tonya out of the waiting room and into the hallway. The smell of chlorine bleach stung the inside of her nostrils. A janitor was mopping the empty hallway, the fluorescent lights shining off the wet linoleum.

  “I can’t have him die on me, too,” Tonya said through heaving breaths.

  Andie rubbed her back with one hand. “He’s not going to die.”

  “You don’t know that!” Tonya snapped. She took one look at Andie’s mortified, wounded expression and started crying even harder. Tracks of mascara lined her face. “I’m s-s-sorry.”

  Andie served her a gentle smile. “It’s alright.” She pulled a tissue out of her purse and handed it to Tonya, who blew her nose loudly. “Whatever happens, it’s going to be okay.”

 

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