People who had witnessed the scene helped Meg gather up her leaflets and Steven get his buttons back into his cardboard box, quite a few remarking that they were very well brought-up, and that that
said good things for their mother. Meg thanked them, and everyone went off with a button and a leaflet apiece.
And, with luck, mentally eliminated Senator Hawley from the list of candidates they were considering.
The incident got back to her parents, and after that, Meg noticed that there was always an adult campaign worker lurking nearby. Linda pulled them aside, telling them that they were very well politicized and had handled a difficult situation quite gracefully. Meg still thought the whole thing was funny, and after he stopped being mad, Steven agreed with her.
They would ride in an SUV or town car driven by Secret Service agents, with more agents riding in front of and behind them. Because the vehicles were so crowded, Meg almost always got stuck on a jump seat, which made her carsick. The Secret Service didn't want them to open the windows, either. Her mother would be slumped against the backseat the whole time, gulping coffee and wearily reading the information packet her advance team had prepared about the next event, scribbling last minute changes in whatever speech she would be giving, while Glen practically had a heart attack.
“Kate, every time you start ad-libbing, I age three years,” he'd groan.
Her motherâwho
always
ad-libbedâwould just ignore this, and continue editing and rewriting.
When they'd pull into the next town, her mother would get out of the car, suddenly cheerful and refreshed, projecting an air of relaxed, friendly confidence. Usually, the speeches went wellâcrowds were big, audiences receptiveâbut, not always. Sometimes, the advance team had over- or under-anticipated the number of people who would attend, and once, no one came at all because the staff had publicized the wrong time.
Standing in the empty auditorium, Meg could tell that her mother was furious, but almost as quickly, she was amused and sent someone out to get hamburgers, which they ate sitting on the stage.
“You gonna fire someone, Mom?” Steven asked, his mouth full of French fries.
Her mother arched an eyebrow at Glen. “That depends on whose mistake it was.”
“These things happen,” he said.
She nodded. “They happen
once
.” Then, she grinned. “Enough said?”
Seeing Glen nod, Meg glanced over at her mother. Kind of weird to see her being an administrator. And a rather cranky and demanding one, at that.
“Well.” Glen finished his hamburger. “Why don't we get out of here and head over to Sunapee.”
Meg sighed, and looked down at her barely touched meal. She was kind of enjoying hanging out on the stage.
“Is that really necessary?” her father asked.
“No,” her mother said, to Meg's surprise. “Glen, I'm going to take this as a sign that I need a break.”
He looked alarmed. “Butâ”
“Can we really stay here?” Meg asked. “I mean, for a while?”
“Don't make me feel so benevolent,” her mother said. “Of course we can. I think we all need it.” She yawned. “I know I do.”
So, they sat on the stage, and ate hamburgers, and didn't talk about politics once. It was Meg's favorite afternoon of the campaign so far. Of course, right after that, they went out to the motorcade and went to Sunapee, and her mother made two speeches, but still. For a while there, it had been almost as if her mother wasn't running for President at all.
Almost.
THE DAY BEFORE the primary, the headline above the lead editorial in the Manchester
Union-Leader
âNew Hampshire's biggest, and most influential, newspaperâwas:
Katharine Vaughn Powers: Very Open and Very Presidential
. It was a big deal, because just about everyone in the state read it, and the endorsement was also quite a coup, since the paper was traditionally conservative, and her motherâdespite a bit of a favorite daughter status, since she represented a neighboring stateâwasn't the sort of politician the editorial board normally embraced.
And, indeed, her mother won the primary, with almost forty percent of the vote, the media analysts saying that it would have been higher if the voters hadn't been uneasy about her position on gun control.
After that, primaries became the routine, with her mother doing very well in the Northeast and Pacific Northwest, less well in the South and Midwestâwhere Senator Hawley talked a lot about Tradition and Family, the concept of Motherhood implicit in this. Funny, that no one ever asked where
his
family was. And when they were there in photosâthe three boys standing behind their parents with toothy smilesâMeg couldn't help wishing that everyone knew how rotten those kids were. Governor Kruger picked up most of the Rocky Mountain States, although her mother held her own, and outright won Colorado and Arizona.
But, even though Meg was impressed by how well her mother was doing, and also kind of proud, she got tired of only seeing her on the news, or in articles, and only talking to her when she was alone in some hotel room, or on her way to yet another campaign event.
Somehow, no matter how angry or resentful Meg was feeling at that particular moment, she couldn't quite bring herself to say anything mean, because she kept picturing her mother being lonely and sad, hundredsâand sometimes, thousandsâof miles away. So, on days when she knew she might say something rottenânot too often, because her father and Trudy would get suspiciousâshe managed to be in the shower, or on a walk with Kirby around the time her mother was supposed to call. In a way, Meg thought of it as doing her part to help The Candidate.
When her mother
did
come home, she was always completely worn out. She would try to get up to have breakfast with them, and do normal parent things, but was always so tired that everyone was afraid to ask her. Among other things, Meg wouldn't even
suggest
a game of tennis.
Drifting around late at night, she would go into the kitchen or dining room, find a table covered with papers and graphs, stacks of folders, and cold mugs of coffeeâand her mother, sitting up, but asleep, her head propped on one hand. Sometimes, after Meg woke her up, her mother would go to bed, but more often, she would fix herself more coffee and keep working. She got mad fast, tooâprobably too tired to control her temperâwhich would erupt unexpectedly, as if she had been holding it in for days, exploding into sudden fights which, as far as Meg could tell, were mostly only with her. She knew she should be understanding, and remember how much pressure her mother was under and how tired she was, but most of the time, her temper would come crashing out to meet her mother's, and the fight would end only when one of them left the room.
More often than not, this involved at least one slammed door.
One night, around quarter of two, Meg found her mother hunched over reams of paper in the sitting room and woke her up as carefully as possible.
“What?” Her mother jerked awake, looking around in confusion. “What's wrong?”
Meg jumped a little at the quick reaction. “Nothing. I just thought you should maybe go up to bed.”
“I have work to do.” Her mother fumbled for her cup of coffee, tasted it, and shuddered.
“You should go up to bed,” Meg said. “It's really late.”
“I think I can manage that decision by myself.” Her mother wearily pushed up her sleeve to check her watch, then frowned. “What are
you
doing up?”
Meg shrugged. “I always stay up.”
Her mother scowled, and lifted up a folder about health care or whatever else it was that she was studying. “Terrific, you always stay up. You wouldn't if I were around.”
“Yeah, well,” Meg triedâand failedâto keep her own temper under control, “you're not around, are you?”
Her mother's folder slapped down against the table, and Meg couldn't help flinching. “Let's not start that again, okay?”
“Yeah, really,” Meg said. “Wasted energy on my part.”
Her mother's jaw tightened, and Meg could see the flush of anger starting into her cheeks.
“Well.” Meg folded her arms. “Guess I ought to leaveâI'd hate to waste any of your valuable time. Maybe we can make an appointment to see each other next week.” She paused, knowing that she should just shut up and leave the room. “If you have time, that is.”
“I said, cut it out!” Her mother's voice was less controlled this time.
“No.” Meg shook her head, still trying to tell herself to shut upâand still not doing it. “You said not to start again. I didn't hear anything about cutting it outâ”
“Meg, get out of here!” Her mother jumped up so quickly that she knocked over her coffee. “Just leave me alone. Justâ” She saw the liquid spreading across her papers. “There! Are you happy?” She picked up the mug and dumped out the rest. “Does that make you happy?”
Meg backed up towards the door. “Mom, I didn't mean toâ”
“Oh, yeah, you did!” her mother said. “You know damn well youâ”
“Kate,” Meg's father said from the door, and her mother stopped, visibly trembling, taking a slow breath to try and get back under control.
Meg glanced at her father and found an expression of such fury that she took another involuntary step backwards, her heart beating a little harder against her rib cage.
“Go to your room,” he said.
“Oh, good,” she said, nodding. “As usual, you're going to listen to my side of it, too.”
His eyes got colder, and she retreated another step, knowing that it was unreasonable to be scared, but scared, anyway.
“
Now
,” he said.
She bolted past him and halfway up the stairs, then stopped to lean against the railing, feeling hot, clumsy tears start down her cheeks.
“Okay,” she heard her father saying gently in the sitting room. “It's okay. Come on, take it easy.”
She let go of the railing, running the rest of the way upstairs and into her room, crying harder. Vanessa jumped off the bed, scurrying out of the room, and Meg got under the covers, bringing the blankets and her knees up as high as they would go, shaking so hard that the tears wouldn't come out right, feeling angry, and guiltyâand very, very alone.
Â
THE NEXT MORNING, she stood in her closet, trying to figure out what to wear to schoolâand still upset about the night before. She smelled perfume before she heard anything and knew that her mother had come into the room.
“I'm leaving now,” her mother said.
Meg nodded, not turning around.
Her mother sighed. “I'm not going to be back for at least a week, Meg. I don't want to leave with us still angry at each other.”
“Does that mean you're staying?” Meg grabbed a shirt and a pair of pants, carrying them over to the bed.
“You know I can't,” her mother said.
Meg didn't answer, going over to her dresser to get socks and underwear.
“Meg, I'm sorry,” her mother said. “I lost my temper. I didn'tâwell, I really am sorry.”
Meg shrugged.
It was quiet for a minute.
“Is that what you're wearing to school?” her mother asked.
Meg frowned, realizing that she'd picked out plaid madras pants and a striped Oxford shirt. “Yes.”
“Very attractive.” Her mother came over and put a hand on Meg's shoulder, ruffling it up through her hair. “You're not going to break down and smile?”
“It's not funny,” Meg said, even as a little grin escaped.
Her mother also grinned, sitting down on the bed, and Meg looked at her, noticing the perfection of the green silk dress and smelling the light, penetrating perfume.
“You look pretty damn beautiful,” she said grumpily.
Her mother frowned. “I'm not sure that's a compliment.”
“I'm not sure either,” Meg said.
“I admire your honesty.” Her mother put her arm around her. “It
irritates
me, but I admire it.” She brushed a light kiss across Meg's hair. “Let's not be angry, okay?”
Meg shrugged. “You're going to miss your plane.”
Her mother nodded, automatically glancing at her watch.
Meg got up to put the striped shirt back in her closet. “You'd better get going.”
“It's not always going to be like this,” her mother said.
Meg hung up the shirt, selecting a pale yellow one, instead.
“It really isn't,” her mother said.
Meg frowned at the yellow shirt and exchanged it for a light blue one.
“You are the most obstinate person I've ever met,” her mother said.
Meg turned and looked at her. “I'm not sure that's a compliment.”
“I'm not sure, either,” her mother agreed.
Well, okay, then. Meg turned back to the closet, pulling out a white shirt.
“Kate?” Meg's father called up the stairs. “It's almost seven!”
“I'm on my way,” her mother called back. She glanced at Meg. “I'll see you soon?”
“Whatever.” Meg brought the white shirt over to her bed, hearing her mother's small sigh. She listened to her walk out to the hall, then couldn't stand it anymore and went after her. “Mom?”
Her mother stopped at the top of the stairs.
“Be, uh,” Meg blushed, avoiding her eyes, “careful, okay?”
“You, too.” Her mother smiled at her. “Wear the blue shirt.”
Meg looked at the white one, then nodded, and her mother went down the stairs.
Â
WHEN SCHOOL ENDED, the plan was that they would all go on the road with her mother, and her father would take a leave of absence from the firm, so that he could travel with them the entire time, too. They would campaign with her, and when she had to go to Washington and be a Senatorâwhich she did less and less, these daysâthey would campaign without her. Not only was Meg dreading that part of it, but since she and her mother still weren't getting along most of the time, that meant that she and her father weren't doing very well, either. So, she wasn't looking forward to the concept of all of them spending several weeks together, non-stop.
But, Steven was the one who
really
got upset about the idea, furious that he'd have to quit Little League, and refusing to go with them. With Neal, it was different, because he was little, but Steven was so independent and secretive about things that when he blew up, people paid attention.
It was decided, finally, that Meg and Steven would stay in Massachusetts with Trudy until the Democratic Convention, which was in August. Then, depending upon what happened at the Conventionânone of the candidates had locked up quite enough delegates during the primaries to win the nominationâthey would all spend the rest of Augustâwhich was when Congress recessedâcampaigning, or if her mother didn't get the nominationâthey would stay in the “home district,” where, presumably, her mother would campaign out of force of habit.
It was kind of lonely around the house, but restfulâshe and Trudy never fought, and Steven seemed to be able to find things to do with himself. Since there hadn't been any trouble, like the police calling and saying he was smashing streetlights, or something otherwise delinquent, Meg didn't worry about him. He had gone through a period of minor vandalism when he was about nine and a halfâwhich had turned out to be kind of an expensive hobby.
Since she wasn't going to be around for the whole summer, she couldn't really try to get a job, so she spent most of her time playing tennis and going to movies with Beth and Sarah. A few guys from school called and asked her out, but since she knew they were asking only because she was related to a certain Presidential candidate, she always politely refused. It was Beth's opinion that at least a
couple
of the guys might have been more interested in Meg than her mother, but Meg didn't even consider the possibility.
It was late Julyâalmost August, almost the conventionâand Meg woke up at eight, glanced at the clock, and then fell back onto her pillow. Vanessa, Adlai, and Sidney were all on her bed, and she patted each of them, getting two sleepy purrs and one long, somewhat toothless yawn from Sidney.