Carter and I both are going on-air during all the other scheduled sit-down interviews with Owen. If anyone comments about us withholding the news about my pregnancy until tomorrow morning, we’ll shamelessly play the “Gee, I almostdied, don’t you think I deserve happiness?” card.
Four more years, and then it’smyturn.
Owen might end up retiring for a while after he leaves office to stay home with the baby—who will almost be ready to start school by then—and that will work out better for all of us, anyway. Owen will be happy, our baby will be safe and cared for by his daddy, and it’ll keep Owen off the media’s radar for a while.
A friend of Daddy’s approached Carter for help finding a long-term beard for his daughter, who’s ten years younger than Owen. She lives with her girlfriend, who is an aspiring politician in the middle of her own bid for their county commission. Since they’re both registered GOP, they figured it’d be easier for her to wait to come out.
Daddy talked to Carter about borrowing Owen, of course. It makes me more than a little jealous that Carter arranged for her and Owen to have dinner a few times in Tallahassee over the last several weeks, and tipped the press off about it every time.
When I put my foot down that she wouldnotbe joining us on election night, or at the inauguration and ball—if we win—I shamelessly played the “’your wife almost died” card to Carter.
Yeah, I went there.
Even the bastard extraordinaire didn’t push back, finally giving me a smile and kissing me, nuzzling my nose. “Yes, dear,” he said with a chuckle.
Damn, I love that man.
Election nights areours.Onlyforus. Beard for the greater good or not, fuck that.
Owen isours. I won’t share him on a night I already have to share him with the entire damn state, and I think Owen and I earned this, considering everything else we’ll have to pretend about.
Photo ops can wait for another night.
Tonight, I can’t move anywhere that Owen’s not constantly watching me, no matter who he’s talking with. He turns so he can keep glancing at me without being too obvious.
At least most of the people here tonight, we can trust them. Maybe not with the deepest truths about us, but as my best friend, sure, Owen worries about me.
No one will begrudge him this tonight, or speak ill of him for it.
We actually have two hotel suites, in the same wing, sharing a common foyer area, and with a trooper standing guard. We used a wristband system, and only the people with a certain wristband can move between the suites. Everyone else has to stay in the other one. I did make an earlier appearance over on the other side, and will make one more before we head downstairs. Carter’s using my health as an excuse, that he wants to take things easy on me.
No one questions him, assuming he means about my recovery from “the ordeal.”
For tonight, Carter’s pared down the list so that we only have ten people in this suite with us, besides immediate family and Dray and Gregory. Carter and Owen make frequent trips next door, to the other suite.
The truth is that Carter wanted Owen able to sit down on the couch next to me from time to time tonight, and be able to talk to me, to relax without worrying who was watching us. Everyone allowed inthissuite tonight knows how close we are as friends and won’t think a second thought about Owen’s actions tonight, especially in light of almost losing me.
Only Dray knows the full truth, and that’s only because he works for us.
If Daddy suspects anything, he hasn’t said so.
* * * *
Election returns begin flooding in when the polls close at 7 p.m. Eastern time in most of the state.
Fucking Panhandle.
Maybe one of my first actions as governor should be proposing we allow Alabama to annex part of the Panhandle and be done with it.
#justkidding
#sortof
#nojustkidding
Early voting numbers were record-breaking. Every political commentator is referencing my “survival miracle” as likely being a contributing factor.
No shit, Sherlock.
