Page 39 of Whiskey and Regret

“Van, you did hear me when I told you it would be in your best interest to vote in a way that would benefit future Freemans, right?”

“Wow, no hello, how are you?”

“I’m still pissed at you for voting like a pussy on the arts funding bill,” he snapped.

“I voted like someone who cares about kids who don’t have the same opportunity as mine.” I shut the laptop and pushed to my feet. I took long strides to the bar and frowned when I realized the decanter was empty. Dammit.

“You’ll have the chance to fix it, Van.”

“Are you talking about the education funding bill? It’s loaded with breaks for private institutions. If I sign off on it, funding will get taken away from public schools. They’re trying to create an entire pool for private institutions.”

“Let them. Public schools won’t miss a little bit of money. It’s not fair that they get the entire budget. It’s a monopoly. How do you not see that? Goddamn bleeding heart.”

“The kids in public schools are our future.” I hated how cliché it sounded but it was true.

“Yes. Our future maids, cab drivers, and waitresses. Do they need art programs and more money being funneled to them? They can’t even hit the average scores for standardized testing. They drop out of school. They kill each other in the streets. They pump drugs through our neighborhoods…”

“That’s a portion. Not the whole. It’s also a symptom of not having things like arts and recreational buildings and programs. This city needs to be uplifted and that means starting from the bottom. Not the top. Nobody in my tax bracket is hurting for funds to send their kids to private schools.”

“And public school is free so why are there still struggling middle-class citizens, Van? They don’t have to come out of pocket for tuition or uniforms or extracurricular programs. It sounds like the upper class is coming out of pocket far more than anyone else. Why not direct some funding where it’s needed?”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” I grabbed the decanter and carried it to the kitchen so I could refill it with Jameson. My steps were stiff and measured. My spine was a plank of wood and my jaw was immovable.

“You’re putting funds in the hands of people who don’t care about them,” he said.

“Dad, I’m going to vote the way I want to. I’ve done it for years and I plan to continue.”

“You used to vote the way I wanted you to. Now you’re turning into a fucking leftist.”

“If you’re done, I’m going to get off the phone.” I emptied the whiskey bottle into the decanter and poured another glass.

“I’m not done. What is this nonsense I heard from Alexis about you taking full custody of Francesca and getting a nanny without consulting her?”

“Why are you even talking to Alexis?” I didn’t need to hear his answer though. I knew why. He thought Alexis was the perfect political wife. She was beautiful and came from a wealthy family. She went to all the right schools and she fit into the mold perfectly.

The problem came from us not being in love. We were only put together because our families were friends and went to the same clubs and parties. Alexis was a socialite from the jump. She didn’t give a fuck about giving people opportunities or making the lives of her fellow citizen better. She cared about being seen and being maintained.

I was perfect in her eyes because I was able to take care of her. I realized when I stood at the foot of the aisle on our wedding day that it was a mistake I’d regret for the rest of my life. I still tried to hang in there. I told myself love would come.

It never fucking came.

Headaches came.

Trust issues came.

Love didn’t.

I learned to ignore it once Frankie was born. I threw myself into being her father and starting my political career as a senator. The older Frankie got, the less I was able to stand being around Alexis. Eventually, we divorced and went our separate ways. I paid her alimony and took good enough care of Frankie that I didn’t need to be put on child support.

My parents were pissed that we’d gotten a divorce. My father hated how it made me look in the eyes of the state and country. My mother wanted me to find another wife immediately. She still sends me information on women she thinks I’d match well with.

I didn’t match well with anyone. Nobody understood me and I wasn’t willing to open up. I was in the public eye too much and it was hard to distinguish between a woman who wanted me for me or who wanted me because of who I was. I was better off being alone.

I knew who to call when I needed pussy. I knew who to call when I needed my dick sucked. I knew who to call when I wanted threesomes. My sexual needs were being met. I was happy to have my house to myself. I was more productive without Alexis crowding my space.

Hell would have to freeze over before I ever thought about getting married again.

I was fine being the bachelor senator.