She tilted her head with an expression indicating that she knew he was joking, and he stood taller and winked, “I mean Congresswoman.”
To me, she was straightforward with a finality in her voice as if we would never talk again. “Very nice meeting you, Michael.”
“Ah… yes. You too.” Her hand was small and soft in mine, but she still gave me a firm handshake. Through her glasses, I finally saw the color of her eyes—a light green—which was probably pretty without the harsh frames.
As the two women departed, Gary said his farewells to Jeff and me and soon left us alone. I’d hired Jeff because he was a seasoned House staffer with perfect political acumen, but we soon became good friends, as well. I gave Jeff a sly eye and said, “So tell me about Ms. Trish Wingren. She’s a beauty.”
“She is, but boy, oh, boy.” Jeff snorted. “She’s a piece of work. Pretty, but the worst kind of humorless Democrat. I spoke with her for ten minutes, and I swear she’s the biggest ball-busting woman I’ve ever met.”
“C’mon. She can’t be that bad. She’s gorgeous to look at, though she did seem a little grumpy.”
“If I didn’t know otherwise, I’d say she was a lesbian.”
“How do you know otherwise? Did you hit on her?”
As if he’d ever be with anyone other than his high school sweetheart.
I patted his back and smiled. “I’m only joking.”
“You know Caitlyn is the only one for me.” He laughed. “But, yeah. Caitlyn would’ve been jealous if she saw me with her, until she zeroed in on that rock on her hand.”
“She’s married.”
“Yeah. Proudly. And to Larry Wingren of all people.”
“No way. The Phoenix Cardinals’ tight end?”
“Yup. NFL players always have the best looking wives, but I can’t believe he’d be with such a bitch.” Jeff shook his head and smiled. “You never know what goes on behind closed doors. She might be a pussy… cat with him.”
I chuckled at Jeff’s choice of words, but soon wondered aloud, “How is it she works for Jessica Clark?”
“I asked that. They were friends growing up. Trish has worked for Clark since she was first elected mayor of some Podunk town.”
“So Jessie was a mayor…”
“Jessie?” Jeff studied me for a moment.
“She introduced herself to Gary and me as Jessie.”
“Huh. What’s she like?”
“Er… I don’t know. Different.”
“Different? Well, she is a Democrat. That would make her different around here.”
“No… not different like that… she’s just a little unique—”
“Unique like odd? A ball buster like her chief of staff?”
“No. She’s much nicer,” I said, with some scorn. I threw both hands up to halt the conversation. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’re going to be friends.” I set my beer on the nearest table. “Time to call it a night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
After a pit stop at the john, I followed the labyrinth of halls in the Rayburn Office Building as I made my way to the exit. I’d only been a member of the House of Representatives for a couple of days, although I’d been around politics my whole life. It would take another twenty years before I knew my way around Capitol Hill. As I turned a corner, not far away I spied Trish and another woman who had to be Jessie, though she looked much different. She appeared shorter, and her long hair hung loose over her shoulders. With her head turned, I only saw her profile, which was frustrating because I could tell she wasn’t wearing glasses. I might’ve actually been able to look at her face for once. I smiled when I noticed she had exchanged her heels for running shoes, allowing her to keep up with Trish’s giant strides.
Their laughter rang through the hall as they made a beeline for the exit, and I wondered what they thought was so funny. My heart sank as I realized they were probably laughing at Gary and me for being such jerks and mistaking Jessie for a waitress. It
was
worth a cackle with your chief of staff and best friend. I couldn’t begrudge her that.
When I arrived back at my condo on Independence Avenue, as usual, I could hear Daisy’s large tail whacking against the wall, causing dull thud sounds to come from my door. I laughed as I opened the door and heard her welcoming howl. She hadn’t seen anyone since her hour with the dog walker earlier that day, so the poor girl was lonely. I smiled and grabbed the leash. “Come on, big girl.”
My lovable mutt ran around me three times before she consented to the leash. No matter how tired I was, I didn’t mind taking Daisy for a walk. President Harry Truman had said that if you want a friend in Washington, get a dog. Regardless, I believed that was true no matter what city you lived in. Daisy was my bright light, regardless of how dim my world might be.
After our long walk, I kicked back on the sofa, finishing my daily memorization of
The Wall Street Journal
as I watched the Blackhawks game, while simultaneously keeping an eye on a couple of basketball scores. As ten o’clock approached, I went to my study for one last scan of email and the news. I hated being caught flat-footed in the morning. Throughout that night, though, there was a nagging question in the back of my mind.
Just who is she?
So, just as I was about to close my laptop for the night, I pulled up her congressional website. There was Jessie wearing a different pair of funky eyewear, with her hair once again twisted up. In two clicks, I was on her “about” page and reading her biography:
For more than twelve years, Jessica Clark has dedicated her life to working on behalf of the people of southern Arizona. On January 4, 2011, she was sworn in as a member of the United States House of Representatives. Congresswoman Clark represents Arizona’s 2nd Congressional District, which encompasses parts of Tucson, the glorious red rock Arizona desert, and down to the border with Mexico. Before Joining the U.S. Congress, she was first a Representative and later a Senator in the Arizona Legislature. She started her political career as Mayor of Sierra Vista. The Congresswoman was born in Sierra Vista in 1975, the daughter of an army captain and an elementary school teacher. She graduated Summa Cum Laude from the University of Arizona with a double major in Economics and Education. She is a member of Phi Beta Kappa and a Rhodes Scholar. Her Master’s degree in Economics is from Oxford University.
Upon returning to Arizona, the Congresswoman taught junior high school at the Navajo Tribal School and became active in education reform.
The paragraph continued, but I’d read enough to need another image of her besides the woman with the glasses at the reception. On a whim, I typed in “Jessie Clark” and searched for other photos. There were hundreds. The first few showed her at campaign events and photos from the previous elected offices she’d held. She looked just as proper as she did when I met her at the reception. There were a few of her with her father and mother; he looked stern and no-nonsense in his military uniform while her mother was really pretty for a woman her age.
The next photo caused me to lean close to the screen to make sure I was seeing it correctly. There was Jessie Clark without glasses and with her hair shining and long, resting on her shoulders. Surrounded by a dozen Navajo children, she looked like a beloved teacher. Her arms were wrapped around two of the kids, and she beamed with pride at the camera. I leaned back again in my seat, studying the photo.
She’s so pretty… very pretty, and she looks sweet with those kids.
I thought of her chief-of staff for a moment. She was beautiful, but cold—just like my soon to be ex-wife. I had zero interest in someone like that.
Jessie though… a woman like her is tempting.
The image made me scour the internet for more photos. Though the majority of pictures were of her in some official capacity, it wasn’t difficult to find shots of her out of “uniform.” She looked like a different person when she was relaxed. I stumbled upon a whole cache of photos on one of her former student’s Facebook page from a kayaking trip she’d taken with a group of Navajo kids the year before. I loved to kayak, and my heart skipped a little as I realized we had something in common.
In every photo, she wore a modest, black Speedo one-piece bathing suit. The swimsuit wasn’t revealing at all, but it showed enough of her body, which was pretty hot. I especially enjoyed the blowup of her talking to a group of kids because it gave me an accurate view of her behind.
She’s got a nice little butt on her. I wonder if she has a boyfriend.
Happy with my search results, I closed out of the window at once and went back to reading her biography.
Representative Clark is a person respected by her colleagues for her tenacity and hard work on many important issues. She has a steadfast commitment to improve the quality of education for our children, protect Social Security and Medicare, fight for Native American rights, safeguard our natural heritage, and provide for economic development in rural communities. Having grown up in a military family, she believes in providing the necessary resources, equipment, and compensation for our troops. She is a passionate champion of a woman’s right to choose and a staunch defender against attacks on women’s health and a woman’s right to privacy.
The Congresswoman is proud to call Tucson home.
Leaning back in my chair, I stared at the screen. I could have guessed her positions on most issues, and I should have expected her to be pro-choice. It was her zealous explanation of her position on abortion that made me uneasy. I’d long ago separated my personal and political opinions on the issue. The issue was too important to my devout Catholic family and the Republican Party for me to let my personal thoughts get in the way. Frankly, I just didn’t care that much.
A futile hope crossed my mind that maybe Jessie did the same. Without hesitating, I typed, “Jessica Clark abortion,” in Google. Thousands of hits came up with a variety of quotes from her on the subject:
“Abortion should be safe, legal, and rare.”
“Seventy-seven percent of anti-choice leaders are men. 100% of them will never be pregnant.”
“I’m a strong supporter of Planned Parenthood and the access they provide tens of millions of women to health care and family planning.”
“Being pro-choice is not being pro-abortion. Being pro-choice is trusting the individual to make the right decision for herself and her family and not entrusting that decision to anyone wearing the authority of government in any regard.”
With the last quote, there was a photo of Jessie at what looked to be a pro-choice rally. She stood smiling and holding a sign that said, “Keep abortion safe and legal.” Next to her was another woman holding a sign with the words, “Abortion on demand and without apology.”
I winced at the photo, running my hand through my hair in despair.
My mom would kill me if I went out with her.
Then I scowled at myself.
What are you thinking? You want to go out with
her
? You’re worried about your mother? What about your divorce for Christ’s sake? What about your seat?
I glanced at the photo one more time before closing my laptop and pushing it away from me on the desk.
She may be interesting. She may be a good person. She may be beautiful. But she’s not right for you. At. All.
CHAPTER TWO
Jessie
That same evening, Trish and I walked back in the freezing cold to the house we shared in Eastern Market. When we’d moved to D.C., Trish and Larry bought a row house with a large basement apartment. They lived upstairs, and I lived in the apartment, though I had the run of the house if I liked. It was the perfect living arrangement for me. I was never lonely for friends, but had all the privacy I wanted.
Larry was outside shoveling snow as we walked up. Trish grinned at her husband. “Did you just shovel the entire block?”
“I sure did.” He was quick to grab her into an embrace and kissed her. “Also cleared folks’ steps. It’s a great workout.”
Poking his abs of steel, she said, “Well, we can’t have you going soft in the off-season.”
“Honey, when am I ever soft around you?” he asked, in a whisper.
“Can’t you two wait until you’re inside?” I said, rolling my eyes.
He leaned over and pecked me on the cheek. “No problem. How was your day, Congresswoman?”
“Long. Really long.”
“Come on,” said Trish. “You have to tell him the story about how those two asshole Republicans thought you were a waitress at the reception.”
“They did not!” said Larry, his jaw dropping.
“Oh yes, they did.” I laughed and shook my head. “They weren’t assholes, though.”
“After they apologized,” Trish said derisively. “Which they only did because that’s the kind of story that could end up in the press and bite them in the ass.”
“You will not say anything about it. They would know I blabbed, and I want to make friends right now, not piss people off.”
“I know. I know. We don’t want to position ourselves as too partisan from the beginning, but this is so good. The male Republicans assume the female Democrat at a reception is part of the wait staff.” She sighed regretfully. “Don’t worry though. I won’t blab.”
“Good.” I thought back to the reception and then said offhandedly, “Besides, I liked those guys.”
“But, they’re Republicans.” She waved her hand as if she were tossing them aside. “The old guy seemed harmless, but you just liked Grath because he’s kind of hot.”
“Whatever,” I said with a shrug. “He was actually kind of interesting.”
Sometimes having your best friend as your chief of staff was a pain in the ass. I tried to lie, but she caught me. Who wouldn’t be attracted to Mr. Blue Eyes? She snorted at me. “Interesting?”
“Hey,” said Larry, clutching Trish. “Half my teammates are Republicans, and you like them.”
“They say that, but they’re just Republicans because they became rich and hate taxes,” said Trish. “They don’t actually buy into the rest of the crap.”
“Guys, I’m freezing,” I said. I was tired, but I was still bouncing up and down to stay warm. “I need to go inside and take a hot bath.”