Page 292 of Innocent
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Grace’s funeral is held that Friday evening, and we move a campaign event to fit Elliot’s attendance into the schedule. It’s held in the National Cathedral. Her family chose not to have her body lie in state ahead of time.
Which…I thought was unusual. I would have put money on every bit of pomp and circumstance being employed. Instead, they opted to have her cremated, and aren’t even holding a funeral for her back in Nebraska.
Apparently, her parents feel that, due to the circumstances of her death, it’s better to keep the attention to a minimum. There’s going to be a tree-planting ceremony in the spring and I’ve already noted my calendar to make sure I Elliot’s present.
We glean that information from Stella, who is being uncharacteristically low-snark with me when she calls to talk to Elliot this week.
Moving on from that… Between the debate prep and an increasingly grueling campaign schedule, combined with the president’s busy schedule working and then stumping for Elliot, we hardly see Leo over the next several weeks. No time for sex with him, and no overnights.
I don’t like that, and I know Elliot doesn’t, either, but we knew what we were signing up for and that this part of the campaign would be a grueling, marathon slog of gargantuan proportions.
We don’t point out the piercings to Leo. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. I’m not sure how that makes me feel, but I honestly don’t have time to sit there and obsess over it.
Or over the fact that law enforcement has closed the matter of Grace’s death, the coroner officially declared it an accidental overdose, and neither my name, nor Leo’s, were mentioned in the press.
I start to relax a little.
Aboutthat, at least. It’s the only facet of my life, other than the certainty of the relationship between Elliot and Leo and myself, that Icanrelax over.
Ciro has proven to be a fantastic choice as a running mate for Elliot. The more time we spend with him on the campaign trail, the more I like him. The people like him, too, his polling stats climbing every week. He’s genuine, energetic, funny when appropriate, and soberly knowledgable and statesmanlike when needed.
Barring any massive fuck-ups, we should be able to get him elected in eight years, although there’s always a risk of the House and the Senate swinging back into GOP control during Elliot’s second term. That’s not unheard of when one party’s had control of the White House and both houses of Congress for a while.
And so we tear off another calendar page and slide into October, with Elliot maintaining a comfortable lead that makes him want to work doubly hard to hold on to it.
Elliot slaughters Boone in their debates, to the point the GOP is now devouring their own young over how poorly their chosen candidate is performing. The chair and co-chair of the RNC were fired after the second debate, and it looks like the newly named chair is already under fire for some sort of fuckery. It’s all bad omens for down-ballot races that should otherwise be no-sweat walkaways for GOP incumbents in heavily red voting districts.
Because every round of polling shows more undecideds and even GOP voters swinging toward Elliot. Especially younger voters who came of voting age under a Democratic president who ushered in a strong economy, job growth, and favorable agricultural and industrial treaties that helped level the playing field and staunch the trade deficit bleeding for American farmers and businesses. Many of those voters now have small children they want to have better educations, and they like Elliot’s strong education reform focus.
Not that President Samuels hasn’t made inroads in those areas, because she has. But there’s always room for improvement.
Doesn’t hurt that Elliot polls stratospherically high among young mothers.
I mean,duh. The guy’shaawwwt.
Many older GOP candidates are unfortunately choosing to scream into the void over traditional platform planks, their older, entrenched reliable base sticking with them on general principles, but those numbers are gradually eroding, too. When candidates cling to a more radically conservative platform, the less able they are to convert new voters to their ticket.
Any GOP candidate who dares break from old-guard party lines and tries to move to the center to better meet the obvious desires of their constituents gets eviscerated by others in their own party and the conservative news channels. Political pundits are gleefully predicting another Democratic “blue wave” that has commentators on FNB, Fox News, and elsewhere gnashing their teeth in fury over unforced errors.
Yes, I know. Damned if they do, damned if they don’t. GOP candidates who want to be centrists are increasingly choosing to switch fromRtoIduring their terms for a good reason. Ten House reps and a senator in the past two years alone, not to mention all the down-ballot candidates who’ve done the same. They use GOP money to initially get elected, then they rely on existing supporters to hopefully hang on to their jobs after they leave the GOP.
Meanwhile…we continue on course.
I am hyper-aware now of who I permit to spend time within Elliot’s inner circle, and I’m working closely with Casey to keep access to him tightly restricted. So far, I haven’t picked up any hint of other threats from Grace’s “friends,” but maybe eliminating Grace the way I did put a scare into them and took them so aback that they haven’t been able to formulate another plan because they’re now paranoid as fuck about what loose ends Grace might have left dangling in the wind.
Also likely they’ve struggled to find dirt they can dredge up on Elliot.
Because there isn’t any.
Elliot’s two biggest secrets work with him in the White House. Nothing to see here.
Not adamnthing.
As we mark off days, I tightly focus so there is nothing but my immediate job, my campaign-related tasks, and taking care of Elliot’s needs. This helps keep me from freaking out over the looming election.
We both desperately miss Leo’s presence in our bed. Even if we don’t get to spend at least a few minutes with him at work, we talk to him on the phone every day, and usually at night after we’re in bed. We haven’t missed a single day of that in over a month.
As Elliot and I hold each other and fall asleep Election Day Eve, we’re both desperately missing Leo, feeling more like two lost puppies than a Sir and his boy. Tomorrow, after our return to DC from Nebraska, where Elliot will vote, Leo will join us at the hotel where we’ll watch election returns, and where the party will be held in the ballroom once the results are announced.
I resist the urge to call my parents and tell them they can fuck themselves.
Maybe I’ll send them a Christmas present of White House memorabilia and a picture of me in the Oval Office with President Samuels and Elliot.
They damn sure won’t ever be setting foot in the place.
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