Except I promised Owen we’d sleep in. Cook breakfast with the boys. Make scrambled eggs and French toast. This suite has a little mini kitchen, and I went shopping.
If Susa wins, Dray is perfectly capable of walking her through her schedule tomorrow. I have to stop holding his hand at some point.
I have to stop holdingherhand, not that she’s needed me to do that.
Ineeded to do it.
If she loses, she’s not going to want me hovering over her anyway. Another way in which my two pets are different. I’d be stupid—and a poor husband to both of them—if I didn’t recognize that and give them the space they need when they need it.
Susa can simultaneously exist in a world where she’ll both take a loss as a personal rejection of her, or perhaps see it as a series of missteps on our part in the campaign—and beat herself up regardless of the reason, within our control or not.
To her, nothing less than a win is acceptable.
Unfortunately, that’s one thing I haven’t been able to train out of my sweet pet.
Fortunately, it’s that very stubborn spirit that kept her alive and brought her home to us.
I’m sure, as long as there’s breath in her lungs, it’ll keep bringing her home to all of us.
* * * *
As the evening wears on I know, win or lose, I’m going to have to totally go bastard extraordinaire mode on Owen to get him back in his jacket and downstairs to put in an appearance. Since Owen’s the incumbent, and Susa’s his lieutenant, his attendance isn’t optional, unfortunately for him. But Tommy’s already dozed off in his arms, and Petey doesn’t look far behind.
My boy would rather chew off his own arm than wake either of them when they’re asleep.
Except they’re our children, and they’ll be expected to be seen on stage with us. The photo ops alone are worth it.
Yes, I feel like a shit for thinking that way, but don’t think Susa hasn’t already thought that ten times more than I have.
Both the thought itself, and feeling like a shit for thinking it in the first place.
What can I say? We’re complicated people.
I decide I’ll carry Petey and let Owen carry Tommy. I can already see that Petey looks so much like Owen, and having him in Owen’s arms might make people ask questions.
We just need to make it through the next four years and her re-election campaign, as long as Susa wins tonight, to avoid people making that comparison.
After that, it won’t matter, even if she wants to run for Senate. There will be enough time out of the spotlight for us that we can have peace.
Plus, with Owen and me carrying the boys, Susa can walk out waving, free to shake hands along the front of the stage, and it won’t require an awkward hand-off of kids on stage. We’ve already trained the press that he’s “Uncle Owen,” not just our best friend but also the boys’ godfather. The pictures taken of the boys sitting with him in his office, behind the governor’s desk, are treasured keepsakes I will always tear up a little over.
Susa’s decided not to go back on the pill, preferring to let nature take its course. I made a deal with her—two years. If after two years she doesn’t get pregnant again and isn’t in menopause, she’ll go back on the pill, or Owen will get a vasectomy. I don’t want to risk her health with a late pregnancy after she’s already been through so much.
We have more Heaven than I ever imagined. It’s plenty enough.
Finally, we have answers, and phones start ringing. Resigned, I mentally begin to prepare myself.
As I stand here tonight and watch my pets, I can’t help but smile. I’m going to enjoy sleeping in tomorrow. I also decide fuck it, Owen can leave his jacket off.
He’s not the new governor, so why does it matter? Let him enjoy this evening. It’ll make him happy.
I, however, have to put mine back on. As the candidate’s husband, I ironically no longer have the leeway I did simply being the governor’s chief of staff.
In fact, as I stand in front of a mirror and fix my collar, straighten my tie, Susa walks up behind me and wraps her arms around my waist. She’s smiling at me in the mirror.
From the day Owen and I met, we had a rapport, a way of silently communicating entire conversations just with our expressions.
It took me and Susa a little longer to reach that point, but we did.
