The Hopefuls(103)

The next time I opened my eyes, it was 7:00 a.m. and Matt was getting dressed. I sat up and said, “Hi.”

“Hi,” he said back, looking in the mirror as he knotted his tie.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m just ready for this to be over.” I sat up and pulled the covers off, and he looked at me. “You don’t have to get up. Stay here and sleep. Just be ready to go around five.”

That was the time we’d have to leave for the election party at the Dillons’, and I was surprised that he still wanted me to go, but I just nodded and said, “Sure.”

—

I spent most of the day in the hotel room, imagining what Matt and Jimmy were saying to each other, if they were saying anything at all. What was Ash doing? She hadn’t called to yell at me, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know. I left once to get a salad, but found it impossible to eat and only managed to choke down a couple of bites of lettuce before abandoning it. My stomach twisted and I thought I might get sick.

By the time Matt came back to get me, I’d been dressed and ready to go for almost three hours. He didn’t bother to come up to the room, just texted that he was downstairs. As I walked out the door, I tried to think if I’d ever dreaded anything as much as I was dreading this party and decided that the answer was definitely no. I would’ve given anything to stay at the hotel, even if it meant I’d have only my paranoid thoughts to keep me company. I didn’t know why Matt even wanted me to go—maybe he thought it would look bad if I didn’t, maybe he wanted me to feel uncomfortable and embarrassed, to pay for what I’d done.

When I got in the car, Matt was typing on his BlackBerry and didn’t say anything for a minute. Then he put it down and said, “Ready to go?” and pulled away before I answered. On the way, I asked him about the day, and he answered me in a tone that was both polite and removed, like I was a reporter that he didn’t particularly care for, but knew he couldn’t ignore. I hesitated, and then asked him if Jimmy told Ash what had happened—I didn’t want to, but I felt like I had to know before we got to the party so I could be prepared.

“I don’t know,” he said, evenly.

“You didn’t ask?” I said.

“We didn’t talk about it,” Matt said. It seemed unbelievable to me that they’d spent the whole day together and never once acknowledged what had happened, but Matt’s jaw was firm and his answer didn’t leave any room for further discussion, so I dropped it.

As we pulled into the driveway, I said, “Matt, I’m so sorry.”

He turned off the ignition and let out a long sigh. “I know,” he said.

—

The actual party wasn’t quite as bad as I’d feared, mostly because by the time we arrived, there were already about twenty people there, which made it crowded enough so I felt like I could sort of blend in. When we walked inside, Jimmy was in the corner by the fireplace, talking to one of his father’s friends who had donated quite a bit to the campaign. “I should go check in,” Matt said, before walking away and leaving me alone by the door.

One of the caterers came up to me with a tray of white wine, and I took a glass, just to have something to do with my hands. Through the doorway, I saw Ash in the other room, standing alone and looking at her phone. I’d already decided that I was going to say something to her right away, to apologize. To wait any longer would just make it worse.

She smiled as I walked over, and before I could change my mind, I said, “Ash, I just wanted to explain about last night.”

She waved her hand in the air, like the whole thing was a silly misunderstanding. “Oh, you don’t have to,” she said. “Jimmy already did and it’s fine.” She lowered her voice. “I guess we can’t be too surprised they had a fight before this was all done, right? It was coming for a while, I guess. But still…it all seems so childish.”

“I know,” I said, unsure of how to continue. Was it possible that Jimmy had only told her that he and Matt had fought and left out the reason behind it? I had assumed that he’d tell her something, even if it was just a watered-down version of events. But now I wasn’t sure she knew any of it.

“I think we’re all a little loony after this, don’t you?” she said.

“Yeah,” I said. “But still, I’m sorry for what happened.”

I could’ve been referring to the fight between Matt and Jimmy, could’ve been apologizing for Matt’s behavior, if that’s all she knew about. But something told me it wasn’t, because she smiled then and it looked a little tight as she said, “Really. It’s fine.”

—

It’s funny how unimportant election night actually felt. This was what we’d been working toward all those months, it was why we’d driven all over Texas and gone into the homes of strangers, attended church picnics and potlucks. But that night, there was no more adrenaline, no more excitement. We just waited for an answer we already knew was coming. In some ways it felt like the most insignificant part of the whole campaign.

The call came pretty early, around 8:00 p.m. The television was on in one of the rooms, the sound turned low, but we all noticed when they called the race. It didn’t feel especially sad—it was more exhaustion and relief, like the whole room exhaled at once. I’d spent most of the night standing next to Matt while he talked to different guests, not really participating in any of the conversations, just observing. When they called the race, I put a hand on his back, but he didn’t give any indication that he felt it.