“Fine. I won’t ignore you again.”
“I think we need to schedule some joint appearances to align your campaign more closely with me.”
I shake my head. “I want to do this on my own.”
He laughs. “That’s idealistic of you, but it doesn’t work that way.”
“Then I don’t want to win.”
His sigh is loaded with aggravation. “Stop acting like a petulant child, Reagan.”
“There’s nothing childish about wanting to win on my own merits or lose trying.”
“You’ve sure as hell ridden my coattails this far, so don’t get on a high horse now.”
I’ve tried to keep my cool, but my blood is boiling. The public sees Stan Preston as a caring man with an easy smile who loves crossing the political aisle to solve problems. He’s a family man who married his high school sweetheart and set high standards for his children.
All those things are true; my dad is a very good man. But behind closed doors, he’s blunt to the point of abrasiveness at times. And those times often hurt.
“Just how did I ride your coattails?” I ask in a frosty tone. “I thought it was me knocking on all those doors and recruiting my friends to help make phone calls and pass out flyers.”
“I deliberately played no active role in that campaign, but don’t think the name Preston didn’t open lots of doors. And pocketbooks. It wasmyfriends who donated to your campaign.”
I take a calming breath. “And I appreciate it, Dad. I really do. But what I need most is your support. Not money or connections or any of that. I just want my dad to tell me I can do it.”
“You can if you take my advice and let my people do the heavy lifting.”
I roll my eyes. “I have to go, Dad. Can we talk about this later?”
His tone is crisp. “I’ve said all I needed to say.”
“Okay. Then I’ll talk to you later.”
“All right.”
I hang up and meet Lexi’s sympathetic gaze.
“He’s so overbearing,” she says. “Can you tell him to back off?”
My laugh holds no amusement. “That wouldn’t go over well.”
“He’s going to expect you to do his bidding when you get elected, you know. Do you ever wonder if that’s why he’s supporting you?”
Only every day. I shake my head at Lexi and pick up my cell phone and keycard to get back into the room.
“I need some air,” I say, getting up.
“I’ll come with you.”
“Thanks, but I need to be alone. I’m fine, I just need some time.”
She nods silently. I put on my well-worn Cubs baseball hat and slip out of the room. I wear this hat when I want to keep my head down and not be recognized. It goes well with the jeans and plain gray V-neck T-shirt I changed into earlier.
The small-town hotel we’re staying in is quiet. When I walk outside, I can’t help looking at Jude’s red, white, and blue painted campaign bus.#TrustTitan, it says.
I flip off the bus and head for a small bench I saw on the side of the building earlier. I’m emotionally drained. All I can do is sink onto the bench and bury my face in my hands, resting my elbows on my thighs.
When I was in law school, I studied every day so I could graduate with honors and make my parents proud. Then I ran for state representative, and the campaign took every ounce of my time and energy. Serving as state rep was no different.
