Today, Mom’s using a wheelchair and Dad’s pushing her. I lean in and hug Mom again. Despite everything I regret I can’t get home to visit more often without turning their lives upside down in the process. They already hate the fact that there’s a Secret Service detail protecting them around the clock. But even if they tried to order the detail be removed, I’d override them. For all their imperfections they are still my parents and I love them.
“Love you, Mom.”
She smiles up at me. “Love you, too, El. Everyone at church says they’re voting for you, sweetie. Even though you’re a Democrat.”
I return her smile, amused. “Thanks, Mom. I appreciate that.”
Then I turn to Dad. He’s never been much of a hugger. When I graduated from high school, from college, and when I left for the military. And a very awkward hug when I returned home from my time in the service minus part of my leg.
He sticks his hand out, answering the question for me. I receive a terse nod. “Everyone’s pulling for you, El.”
I shake with him. “Thanks, Dad. Love you.”
He nods again.
And…that’s it.
I can tell Dad wants to escape the insanity of the press swarming us and return to the solitude of their farm but I ask anyway. “Sure you don’t want to come to DC with us for the party tonight?”
I mean, I already know the answer but I’m a hopeless dumbass.
Dad sniffs, another tell that he’s irritated. “No, that’s not us. Too many people. And besides, your mother’s ankle. We’ll watch it on TV. Stella said she’ll be there with you. And you can call us.”
Sometimes I don’t know when to let go. “I’ll even pay for the tickets to fly you out and back. We’ll take care of everything.” From the corner of my eye I see Jordan step forward, likely sensing I’m close to breaking.
Except now I know the bitter truth and that is I will never receive what I need from my father over the phone if I win.
If I ever receive it at all. Beginning to think I need to learn how to make peace with what’s increasingly looking like an eventuality.
Dad shakes his head. “Thanks, son, but it’s all right. Good luck tonight.”
I’m pretty adept at forcing smiles after years of practice. “Thanks, Dad.” Except that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach might be me about to puke.
“Make sure to say hello to Stella for us when you see her,” Mom says.
“I will.”
She reaches out to me for one last hug and I linger, wishing I’d taken a different path years ago. “You’ll do great, sweetheart,” she whispers in my ear. “I just know it. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” She also hugs Jordan before Dad wheels her out, surrounded by the Secret Service detail who drove them today.
I barely process Jordan’s authoritative tone. “Give us the room for a moment, please.” Casey-Marie helps him herd my detail out and steps out with them, leaving me alone with Jordan. He pulls me in for a long, strong hug but doesn’t say anything. Thank god, because if he did I might break down right here and start crying.
That’s one of the things I love so much about Jordan—that he knows exactly what to say, and exactly whennotto say anything.
I focus on my breathing, on putting one foot ahead of the other, and not on what just happened. A quiet yet seismic shift in my universe.
I’m probably going to win this thing and it’s still never going to be enough. Somehow, I have to make peace with the fact that I’m the only one to blame for my fate.
Quickly. Because there is no way out of this hell other than to keep plodding forward until I’m through it.
Two minutes later we’re on the move again. Maybe it’s for the best my parents aren’t coming because I’ll get to spend time with Leo tonight. My soul needs it. Especially now.
More importantly? I know Jordan needs time with him as much as I do.
The rest of the day passes in a freaking blur with my attention pulled in countless directions. That’s a damned good thing. It helps keep my mind off the crushing realization I’m trapped in this life because of false hopes and a fruitless, quixotic quest.
I’m also penned in by a whirlwind of frenetic activity while I totally immerse myself in the role of heir-apparent to President Samuels’ administration. I can’t let my public mask slip, not for a second. Not with the polls still open and the media aggressively focused on me.
