I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to live there. Not as the wife or daughter of the governor, either.
Eight years.
Eight years, and I’ll officially be living there.
I hope.
I’m already trying to think of how we could explain Owen living there with us, even though I know Owen himself, and Carter, will nix that plan.
I’m already missing our house in Tampa, our bedroom, our large bed, falling asleep in a warm, naked pile of jumbled limbs and unhampered love.
This is going to be a major sacrifice for all three of us, but I think it’s worth it.
Our state suffered greatly under several terms of GOP governors who were beholden not only to the state and national parties, but also to the NRA, Big Sugar, and other dark-money lobbyists. A party that spent too much time and money trying to court hard-right Evangelicals instead of returning to its fiscally conservative roots. It’s difficult to spot it if you’re merely a tourist in our state, enjoying the beaches or theme parks. Nothing feels wrong in those fantasy lands.
It’s in the plummeting graduation rates and increased pollution statistics where the truth begins to emerge. Toxic algae blooms, increasing sinkholes, more dangerous tropical storms and hurricanes hitting our shores more frequently, the rising sea levels threatening our coastal regions.
I’m no longer sure if, after sixteen years of running our state, I’ll still want a national office. I’m beginning to think no. I know Owen doesn’t want to pursue a US Senate or House seat. He wants to help get me elected and then return to private practice, this time in Tallahassee, so he can remain with us.
Except…if I run for the US Senate, my time will be split between Florida and DC, and I’m not sure I can handle being away from my guys for that long, or if I’ll still have a taste for being a politician by then.
The trooper walks me to my front door and waits to leave until I’m locked inside and have reset the alarm. I’m not going anywhere until it’s time for me to depart for the inauguration ball, and a limo will be sent for me then.
One of the few times the three of us will be able to ride together without any questions being asked. It won’t be unexpected that we’d share a limo tonight. Our public victory celebration.
It’s saving money that way.
One more excuse Carter will ruthlessly use to explain some of the choices he’ll make over the next sixteen years to give us as much time together as possible. It’s less money to protect several people in one place, versus two groups of people in different locales.
Daddy wanted to hire me a personal assistant, at his expense, to accompany me to Tallahassee. To help ensure my privacy and to do things for me like run errands, shopping, so there was no risk of spending taxpayer dollars on a state employee doing those kinds of things.
Carter shut that down in record time, reasonably explaining that we couldn’t start our first term in office appearing to take largesse from someone so intrinsically tied to the GOP, my daddy or not.
Fortunately, Daddy is a reasonable man and understood that.
Unfortunately, Senator Benchley Evans is also a sneak. Carter soon caught wind of him setting up a blind trust, through which Daddy thinks he’s going to hire someone.
I’m leaving that fight up to Carter. I don’t have time to deal with it.
Right now, I need to get ready for tonight.
I strip and examine my new marks in the bathroom mirror.
Yep, those will show nicely for a few days, at least. Carter was careful not to mark me on my shoulders or neck or upper arms over the past couple of weeks, so they wouldn’t be exposed by the gown he and Owen chose for me to wear tonight.
I take my shower and fix my hair, my makeup, and go through my work e-mail as I await the limo’s arrival. Carter had his tux sent to the mansion. He’ll take his shower and get ready with Owen, working to keep Owen calm and prep him for facing the crowd tonight.
That’s one way Carter knows he doesn’t have to worry about me. I am my daddy’s daughter, and I was raised on these kinds of events. I can just about walk through them in my sleep.
Even the ball is a relatively sedate affair when compared to the lavish, political party- and lobbyist-funded galas of past administrations. We’ve deliberately kept it low-cost—as low-cost as one of these things can be—and have invited people not just from our campaign staff, but lawmakers from both parties, as well as some private citizens worthy of recognition for their volunteerism, or their efforts for our campaign.
Other than Daddy and three of his closest friends, who were more like adopted uncles to me growing up, there are no “lobbyists” on the invite list.
Instead of spending money on A-list celebrity entertainment, Carter’s enlisted bands and choirs from a local high school and from FSU, which is located in Tallahassee. The cost of bringing them all in is still far cheaper than we’d pay for an hour of time for some well-known Top 40 band. Plus it highlights state talent. And had we accepted offers by celebrities for donated performances, it would have been labeled cronyism in the works by our opponents.
What are they going to do, complain that talented high school and college students are being spotlighted? That will make any complaints look bad no matter how they try to spin it later.
Carter hopes some of themwilltry so he can have Comms viciously lance their griping as sour grapes and petty, partisan politics. Also something we can point to as proof that it was time for a change in how things are done in our state.
