The Hopefuls(84)

—

When I think back to our time in Texas, it doesn’t seem possible that we actually lived in the Dillons’ basement for nearly a year, that we ate almost every meal with them like we were part of some strange commune. There were days that seemed so long, so open—I didn’t have a job or a baby, we were staying in someone else’s home, and while I was helping with the campaign, it didn’t even come close to taking all of my free time. Some afternoons, I did nothing but read, finishing whole books in a day. But somehow, it didn’t feel like the time passed slowly, just the opposite really—it seemed like we were moving into the basement one day and out the next.

During those months, it felt like I was floating, in suspended time. When my birthday came that year, I felt truly shocked to have turned a year older. Everyone around me had a real purpose—sometimes more than one—and while I could mock Ash’s jewelry business (when I was feeling hateful), there was no denying that she was successful, that she enjoyed it. And so most of the time when I watched her pack up her samples and get ready to go to a party, it was jealousy that I felt.

There was a lot of fighting that happened in that house, a lot of anxious and tense moments, and days when it felt like we were just marking time until the next argument. But still, when I think about that year, what I remember most is one night that the four of us sat outside on the back patio, first eating dinner and then staying there to split a bottle of wine. Our plates were still on the table, but none of us were in any hurry to clean up. Viv was asleep upstairs and I remember being nervous that our laughter was going to wake her up.

Things hadn’t yet turned sour between Matt and Jimmy, and we were all talking about an event we’d been to that day, where an older man had cornered Jimmy to talk about railroads for almost an hour, while Jimmy tried to explain (unsuccessfully) that the Railroad Commission didn’t have anything to do with actual railroads. Matt kept impersonating Jimmy during this conversation, and we couldn’t stop laughing.

“I think he was a retired Amtrak driver,” Jimmy said. “No joke. He was very concerned about our rail system.”

“Let’s have one more,” Matt said, picking up the empty bottle of wine. “You know, in honor of the railroad.”

“We should clean this up,” Ash said, but she didn’t move.

“Nope, Jimmy and I will get it,” Matt said, standing up and piling plates on top of each other. “And we’ll be back with more wine.”

We watched as the two of them filled their arms with dishes to carry into the kitchen. As Jimmy held the door open for Matt, the two of them laughed at something he’d said. We couldn’t hear what it was.

“Look at those husbands of ours,” Ash said to me. “How did we ever get so lucky?”

—

Jimmy was invited to speak at the Texas Democratic State Convention at the end of June, which was a big deal—a much bigger deal than I realized when we first heard about it. “This is huge,” Matt said. And then again with more emphasis, just in case we missed it, “Huge.”

Before the convention, I’d never seen Jimmy get nervous. He could be jumpy before events, but that was mostly just adrenaline and he always calmed down as soon as he started talking. But this was different—from the moment he first found out about the convention, he was terrified. Anytime someone mentioned it, he got a look on his face like he might be sick. He’d be speaking to over seven thousand people—by far the largest crowd he’d ever been in front of—and he’d be alongside much bigger, more well-known Texas Democrats.

He and Matt worked on the speech every night. It contained a lot of the same talking points that he’d used while campaigning, but they’d made it more personal, a little more theatrical. Leading up to the convention, Matt and Jimmy read the speech out loud over and over, tweaking each word, rehearsing it a thousand different ways. On the car ride to Dallas, Jimmy practiced while Matt drove, jumping in every once in a while with a suggestion, and by the time we arrived, I was pretty sure I could’ve recited the whole thing from memory.

Matt and Jimmy left the hotel early in the day to go to the convention center for a walk-through, and when they returned Ash and I were just sitting down to have lunch at the hotel restaurant. Viv had stayed behind with Ash’s mom, and Ash was clearly excited about having a free day, and was on her phone trying to find a place we could get manicures when we were done eating.

I could tell something was wrong as soon as Matt and Jimmy walked into the restaurant. They sat down with us, and immediately Matt said, “There was a little miscommunication,” as if he were a PR person trying to smooth over a mishap.

“I couldn’t practice my speech,” Jimmy said. “That was the miscommunication.”

It turned out that all of the walk-through time was allotted to the more important speakers. Jimmy had been counting on practicing with the teleprompter while reading his speech, getting a feel for the microphone, but all he got to do was walk on the stage and walk right off again.

“I don’t know how this happened,” Matt said. He sounded apologetic.

“It doesn’t really matter now, does it?” And then Jimmy looked pale as he said, “I’ve never used a teleprompter before.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Matt said, and Jimmy just shook his head and said, “God, I hope so.”