The Hopefuls(63)
“This is perfect,” I said, standing in the middle of the room and turning in a circle.
“I’m so glad,” she said and squeezed my upper arm tightly.
While Ash was showing me the house, Jimmy had come home, and he and Matt were carrying all of our bags in from the car and dropping them by the front door. Ash and I came upstairs and met them in the hallway, where Jimmy lifted me into a hug. “Do you believe you guys are here?” he asked. “You’re going to love it. I’m going to make Texans out of you two if it’s the last thing I do.”
—
We had steak fajitas that night (which Jimmy insisted on cooking on the grill even though it was pretty chilly outside) and Ash made a corn and avocado salad, and as we all sat down, I had a moment of déjà vu—how many times had we eaten dinner together in DC at this very table? I was tired from our drive and had that disoriented feeling that comes from traveling, when you first arrive somewhere and have to remind yourself of where you are. I’m in Texas, I kept thinking, and almost laughed at how absurd it sounded.
“Tonight, we’re celebrating,” Jimmy said, pouring us each a margarita from a pitcher. “And then tomorrow we can go back to work.”
We all clinked glasses. “What are we toasting to?” I asked, and Jimmy gave me a look like I’d just asked the dumbest question in the world.
“Oh, Beth,” he said. “To Texas, of course.”
—
When I told Colleen that we were moving to Texas so Matt could run Jimmy’s campaign, she’d rolled her eyes and said, “Seriously, Beth?” like we were doing it just to piss her off. I’d explained all the reasons why I’d agreed to go, and her face had softened just a little, and then she’d said, “Well, at least the happy couples can be together again. You’ll be like one big dysfunctional polygamist family, all living under the same roof.”
“Ha-ha,” I said.
“Just don’t stay there, okay?”
“Oh my God, never.”
Colleen gave me a look. “Never say never. Weird things happen in Texas.”
—
The next morning, I woke up all alone in our room, and even though it wasn’t even 8:00 a.m., I had a panicky feeling like I’d overslept. I got dressed quickly and went upstairs to find Ash, Matt, and Jimmy all sitting around the kitchen table drinking coffee. It was clear that they’d already eaten—the remnants of their breakfast were in front of them—and they all turned to look at me as I walked in, making me feel self-conscious.
Viv was in her high chair with a handful of sliced strawberries in front of her, and when she saw me, she held one up in the air proudly, and then shoved it in her mouth. Ash got up to pour me a cup of coffee, and I accepted it and then turned to Matt. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” I asked.
“You were really out,” he said. “I figured I’d let you sleep since you didn’t have anything to get up for.”
This was true, but strangely embarrassing—Ash had to get up with Viv and Matt and Jimmy had work to do, but I had no real reason to get out of bed. No one was relying on me and I didn’t have anywhere to be. I could sleep all day if I wanted to. But from that day on, I set the alarm on my phone to make sure I was awake at the same time everyone else was, sometimes racing to the kitchen to be the one to start the coffee, like I had something to prove.
“I made some oatmeal,” Ash said, getting up again to get me a bowl even though she’d just sat down.
“I’ll get it,” I said, following her to the stove, but she swatted me away, spooning some oatmeal into the dish and topping it with cut strawberries.
As I ate, Matt and Jimmy went over their schedule for the week. That afternoon, Jimmy was meeting with a group of small business owners in the area, and Matt was briefing him on things he should cover. “We want to get on their radar,” Matt said. “We want them to care about this race.” Jimmy nodded and Matt continued to coach him. “Here’s the thing we really need to shove down their throats—you’re young and you’re coming to this position with a whole new perspective.”
“Got it,” Jimmy said.
“This race isn’t something they’re paying too much attention to, so we want to give them a reason to get excited, to remember your name.”
“That I can do,” Jimmy said. He turned to me. “Beth, did you get to see the world-famous Jimmy Dillon campaign office yet?”
I couldn’t help but laugh when Jimmy talked about himself in the third person, no matter how often he did it. “I peeked in there yesterday,” I said.
“Well, that won’t do. Come on, I’ll show you where the magic happens.”
I wasn’t quite finished with my breakfast, but I stood up to follow them anyway. I carried my bowl over to the sink, but Ash intercepted and took it from me. “Don’t worry about this,” she said. “Go check out the office.”
—
Campaign headquarters was set up in the den on the first floor. “We never used this room anyway,” Ash had said when she showed it to me. She’d opened the door briefly and then closed it again so that I’d just caught a glimpse. I had a feeling she hated the clutter in the room—there were two desks in there, facing away from each other and pushed against opposite walls, and all around were signs and stacks of papers, boxes of posters and push cards, the tiny little pieces of cardboard with Jimmy’s picture, bio, and platform on them.