“That’s why they invented headlights.” I laugh.
“Let’s go, smartass. I have a stack of interview submissions we need to go through while we travel. There aren’t enough hours in the day,” he says and starts to walk away.
It takes me a minute before I follow. This is only the start of my campaign, but I’m already exhausted. It has been years since I left the military, and my body has gotten used to a set schedule. The rigors of traveling remind me of my time in the service, but without worrying about getting my ass shot.
A woman holds her baby in my direction when I make my way toward the bus. “Jude, a photo, please.” She smiles, pushing the little girl toward me.
“She’s beautiful,” I say, lifting her into my arms and cradling her against my chest. She coos with wide eyes. “Aren’t you?” I tap her nose gently, and she giggles, creating spit bubbles on her lip before I pose for the photo.
“Thank you,” the mother says before tucking her phone back into her purse and reaching for her baby. “You’ve earned my vote. Thank you for your service.”
I tip my head and smile. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Her cheeks turn a rosy shade of pink. “Cindy,” she says and bites her lip.
“Cindy, thank you for your vote.”
She smiles and walks away with a slight skip.
“The ladies love you,” Carl says to me before sighing. “At least we can count on their votes.”
“I want to earn their votes on my record, not my face.”
“I don’t care how you win, as long as you do.” He jerks his head toward the bus, reminding me to get my ass in gear. “No more stopping.”
I walk slowly, surveying the crowd still left over from the rally. People seem to be in high spirits throughout the parking lot. There’s a team of voter registration people wandering through the crowd, handing out cards to remind everyone to register for Election Day.
When my feet touch the top stair of the bus, I fumble with the two top buttons of my shirt. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and collapse onto the couch.
Carl slides into the banquette across the aisle from me and starts to go through a giant stack of papers. “Let’s start here,” he says and holds out a few sheets to me.
I glance down and read a few questions. “You already know my answer to these. Can’t you do some of them too?”
“We’ll do them together. There’s too many for you to do yourself, or we’ll be here until Election Day.”
I chuckle and reach for the pen he left for me on the edge of the table. My mind is in campaign mode as I start to answer the questions as honestly as I can when my phone dings.
Unknown: Real nice today. Way to make me feel like a complete asshole.
I grimace, squinting at the screen.
“Everything okay?” Carl asks.
“Yeah,” I lie and type a quick message back to find out who sent it.
Unknown: Who do you think it is? You know…the rich girl that doesn’t understand the plight of anyone but the wealthy.
My jaw clenches, and I look around like someone might have seen her message. It’s an irrational response because I know I’m the only one reading it. Only Carl and I are on the bus, but I feel like I might get caught.
Me: Sorry. It’s politics, right? I thought you had a thicker skin than that.
Unknown: I do.
My lips twist at the shortness of her message.
Me: I read the piece you did forthe Timesabout me. What did you call me, again?
It both stung and gave me hope when I read her words before hitting the stage today. It was an interview exclusive given this morning shortly after we left the inn.
