Chapter 7: Elections

Fall 2014

I didn’t get too lit up that night, just enough to realize that even if I was still driving, I shouldn’t be. Really, those days were behind me, especially now that I was the father of a young boy again. I woke about 7:00 and managed a quick shower and shave, and then dressed for the day, comfortably. As I walked down the hallway, I tapped on the door to Hamid’s bedroom and stuck my head inside. He was wearing pajamas and was now sitting up sleepily and looking around. He smiled, and Sami scampered out and down the stairs. He went to one of the doors and barked, so I led him to the back door and put him on the tie-out and went about preparing for breakfast.

We had the entire Rottingen clan staying with us, so I knew that an endless supply of pancakes, bacon, and sausage would go over well. Bacon and sausage might not be acceptable for Hamid, but Marilyn didn’t think our son really understood religion yet - hell, I didn’t either, for that matter! - and wasn’t planning on starting a halal household anyway. I told her I was going to run him through a sprinkler and intone, “Now you are a Lutheran!” just to make sure he got a good start in life. That simply got her to stewing.

At 9:00, Mindy called, and wanted to know if she could come over. She was still my designated keeper over at the American Impact Project, though that was a position that could be described more as an executive vice president sort of job title and had a paycheck well above what a personal assistant might make. She had her own secretary/assistant, for instance, and I told them to be at the house at 10:00, and we could use my office.

They came over and Mindy knocked on the door, and then she and her secretary, Paige Brook, let themselves into the foyer. The first to greet them was Sami, and when the rest of us came in, Mindy was on her knees playing with the mutt. Both Marilyn and I gave her a big hug, and introduced her to the others, and then we retired to the den, along with Marilyn, Hamid, and Sami.

“We have so much to do, Mindy, and I have no idea where to start, but I am going to need you and Paige to do it,” I started.

“I bet! For all the years I’ve known you, Boss, you never cease to amaze me! What’s first?” said Mindy. Paige merely smiled, but she pulled a notepad out of her briefcase and began to take some notes.

I hooked a thumb towards Hamid. “He’s number one. He needs to learn English, for one thing. His passport says he’s four, so we need to find an Arabic-speaking tutor who can teach him English and all the stuff he needs to know for kindergarten next year. We also need to find a really good pediatric plastic surgeon to work on him. We need to get him American citizenship and make his adoption legit. We need to get his dog a dog license and English language paperwork. And we need to do this, like, yesterday, before Hillary gets an even bigger bug up her ass and decides to have the Justice Department send him back to Syria. Oh, and we need to get in touch with my lawyers and get him added to the wills.” After the Michael Petrelli fiasco, we had specifically named the children who were to be in our wills, so they would have to be modified.

“The difficult we do immediately. The impossible takes just a little longer. I learned that one from you. Where are you planning on making your permanent residence for all of this? Hereford?” she asked, while Paige furiously took notes.

I looked at my wife and nodded at her. She answered, “Yes, very soon. The tutor will need to be able to work or live there. I want to get Hamid settled down in a stable environment. We’ll put him in school next year, after he has learned some English.”

Mindy nodded in understanding. “It reminds me of when Charlie, Holly, and Molly were growing up. Here we all are again, starting over. Have your children said anything about their new brother? That has to be weird.”

“Not really. They were pretty good about it. For them he’s more like another nephew. He’s not much older than their children really. I talked to all of them from Erbil. Charlie said he could stay with them, since he needs more testosterone in the house,” added Marilyn.

That got the other women laughing. After some more small talk, Mindy said, “Mister President, we need to talk politics. You would not believe the number of speaking requests piling up for you!”

I sighed at that, though I knew it was happening. Marilyn stood up and said, “That’s our cue to go! Don’t leave without saying good-bye. Come on, Hamid.” She held out a hand and he went with her, with his shadow, Sami, close behind.

I turned my attention back to Mindy and Paige. “I’m not surprised, not after that welcome home with John Boehner and John McCain. I assume they are just the tip of the iceberg of Republicans unhappy with our esteemed leader and are trying to figure a way to use me to regain power.”

“That’s about it in a nutshell, Mister President,” commented Paige. I recalled that Mindy had plucked her from somewhere in the depths of Adrianopolis/Stouffer, so she must have had some sort of political background. “Everything we are hearing at the office is that Hillary and the Democrats are vulnerable. We could take back Congress in November, and the White House in two years.”

I made a wry face at this. “Maybe yes, maybe no. I might not be as helpful as some people think. Either way, I need to be brought up to speed. We probably need to set up a meeting and round up the usual suspects, soon, too. Maybe we can meet this week. I figure we will need to stay here for at least a few days, until Marilyn figures out what is happening with Hamid. We won’t move back to Hereford until then. After that, I can commute as needed, like in the old days.”

“That’s fine, but you need to see a few people before that,” replied Mindy. “When can you meet with President McCain and Minority Leader Boehner? We should bring a small group over tonight if we can.”

I thought about that for a second. John and Suzie’s children and their families were flying home today, but Suzie and John were staying another night. I nodded. “That’s fine. Get me a list and tell everybody we are having a small cocktail party tonight and dig up a caterer. They can bring their wives or girlfriends, or both, I suppose. That might really be interesting!”

Paige giggled at that. Mindy commented, “You’re really an old fart, Boss. How do you know it wouldn’t be husbands and boyfriends? In fact, with more and more states allowing gay marriage, who knows who might show up!”

“Two comments. One - YUCK! - and two, it’s going to happen sooner or later. Maybe that’s the Democrats’ next plan. They ran a black guy, then a white woman. Maybe their next candidate will be Barney Frank!”

That earned me a lot of laughter!

The ever-efficient Mindy and Paige made some phone calls, and by mid-afternoon a catering truck showed up in the driveway. Washington is like a hospital, in that when there’s an emergency rather than order up X-rays and a surgeon you can issue commands like, “We need two orders of Swedish meatballs and a bartender, STAT!” Over the years, we had hosted any number of political cocktail parties, and the chaos was quite organized. Hamid (and Sami) found it all quite fascinating and wanted to help and get in the way. Marilyn kept shooing them out of traffic.

On discovering she was going to be a guest at a fancy Washington cocktail party and rubbing elbows with the high and mighty, Suzie freaked out a touch, so Marilyn took her shopping. John was much more laid back. He had a suit and a couple of dress shirts with him, and that was fine for what we had planned. He and I chatted about Kurdistan and tried to keep Hamid and Sami out of trouble. It’s not that Hamid was a problem; it was simply that Hamid was a little boy and liked to get into things.

I discovered the best way of keeping Hamid amused was just to park him on a tall barstool in front of the kitchen island, where he could watch the chef prepare things. We weren’t hosting a dinner but would certainly need a selection of hot and cold appetizers and finger foods. By six, everybody was back, and the chef offered to make us all some burgers. I could have done it, but he smiled and told me I would be in the way. I did help with the buns, at least. It wasn’t clear to me whether pizza or a cheeseburger was Hamid’s favorite meal, but it was almost a tie! He scarfed that burger down toot sweet!

After dinner, Marilyn and Suzie got him cleaned up for bed, and read him a book. It wasn’t clear how much he got from Green Eggs and Ham, but he liked the rhyming, and was starting to pick up some English. Now, instead of saying salaam, he was saying hello and good-bye. In addition, he might touch something, and say something in Arabic, and I would tap on it and say it in English. That would help, but not teach him proper grammar, or how to write in English. We needed a tutor.

Our guests were going to arrive around eight or so, and my wife and my sister had him in bed by then. He must not have been sleepy, though. I was in the den when the doorbell rang, and when I got to the foyer, Hamid was already down the stairs, dressed in his pajamas with Sami next to him, and trying to open the front door! “Hamid! You’re supposed to be in bed!” I exclaimed.

I opened the door with my son standing next to me and found the former President of the United States standing there with the former First Lady. Before I even could say hello, Hamid piped up and said, “Hello. I am Hamid.”

John looked down and smiled. “Hello. I am John.”

I tapped Hamid on the head. “Hello. I am your father. Get to bed!” I pointed towards the stairs, and he gave a frown.

Marilyn came in at that point and picked him up and asked, “What are you doing here?”

“He’s getting into trouble,” laughed John McCain. “You ought to know that by now, Marilyn.”

“Hi, John. Good to see you again! Come on in. You, too, Cindy.”

They both came in, and while I shook John’s hand, Cindy slipped around and went over to Marilyn and greeted her and Hamid. Before I had a chance to close the door, another car pulled up, and John and Debbie Boehner climbed out. I waved at them, and they came in, and Debbie joined the other two women with Hamid. The next I knew, all three took him back upstairs, with the dog following, leaving their husbands in the foyer.

“Welcome, guys. Come on in and let’s get a drink. I forgot just how much trouble kids can be,” I said.

“You really adopted that little boy?” John Boehner. “This wasn’t some sort of publicity thing?”

“It’s real. Considering my family history, John, you should know I wouldn’t do something like this lightly.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Anyway, it is damn good to see you again!” he answered.

“Well, Mindy told me we needed to talk tonight and start making a few plans. In the meantime, though, let me introduce you to my brother-in-law, John Rottingen.”

John came over, looking a little flummoxed. “You know, it’s a little weird at times. I know you used to be the President, but I’ve known you for years. It’s strange to meet a second President, you know.”

The others laughed, as they shook John’s hand. I said, “John and my sister are sort of like Marilyn and me, a mixed couple, only she’s the Republican and he’s the Democrat. Before we start talking, we have to make him swear not to talk to Nancy Pelosi and Hillary Clinton.”

He snorted derisively at that. “You don’t have to worry about that. She’s a disaster! You guys can plan anything you want, and Suzanna and I will go along with it.”

With that endorsement, he went to the front door to let in our next guests. Over the next fifteen minutes or so about a dozen more people came in. In addition to the McCains and Boehners, Marty Adrianopolis and Frank Stouffer came in with their wives, Mindy brought her husband, Mike Steele of ARI came in stag, and Reince Priebus of the RNC and Tom Donahue of the U.S. Chamber of Commerce came with their wives. Brewster McRiley was present too, stag, but he had just gotten divorced, so that wasn’t a surprise. I hadn’t expected Tom, but Reince brought them, and the Chamber was a major business lobbying group. From everything I had heard, I couldn’t imagine them being happy with Hillary.

It was an enjoyable party. About half was taken up with Marilyn and I talking about what we did on our summer vacation, and the other half was spent listening to the latest gossip on the Clintons and the rest of the political scene. Bottom line, the Dems were vulnerable! It reminded me in a way of my first go-around, when Obama grabbed the House in 2008, but then lost it back to the Republicans in 2010. Hillary was unpopular, and anybody who had gotten into office with her, especially in traditionally Republican districts, was on shaky ground.

By ten or so, we were all sitting in the living room, drinks in hand, and I asked, “So, what’s the plan? Hillary’s vulnerable and we’ve got about two months to take back the House. Forget the Senate. We’ll never pick up ten seats. You obviously have plans in mind for me. John?” I asked, looked at Boehner.

“You and John here are looking very positive these days. The worst of the recession is behind us, but the economy is still weak, and the recovery is nowhere near what anybody would call robust. There are a lot of people who voted Democratic and are now wondering if they were as smart as they thought they were. John’s already been holding some fund raisers for candidates, but it’s the home stretch now. We need the both of you pushing for candidates. You two are both a hell of a lot more popular than Hillary is these days.”

“That’s true, Carl,” added Marty. “I am hearing through the grapevine that several Democratic candidates have called the DNC to cancel requests for Hillary to help. They are running for the hills.”

“Huh.” I looked over at Reince. “As head of the RNC you hear from the candidates. Do they want us campaigning for them?”

“That’s pretty much true. I’ve got a list too long for you to meet with who want to be on a stage with your arm around their shoulders. President McCain is a popular request, too, very popular, and he’s been seen with many people, but you are the man of the hour. Marilyn, too! She’s popular, too.”

“Me?” squeaked Marilyn. I chuckled as I heard her protest.

“Oh, yeah! Your work over there with the refugees and adopting that little boy, you’re Mother of the Year across most of the country. Want to shake some hands?” he asked. “I’m serious. You would be a major draw. We could write up a short little speech and send you out in one direction while Carl is going the other direction.”

“NO! Not a chance!” She looked at me. “Might I remind you that we are parents again? We need to be home with Hamid.”

I sighed. “Yes, I know. Don’t worry. I’ll figure something out.” I looked back over at Reince. “I’ll do some speaking and fund raising, but Marilyn is right. We have a little boy now and we have to take care of him. He can’t go with us, either. He doesn’t even speak English yet!” I shook my head. “No, Marilyn will need to stay home with him. I’ll make long weekends, but I can’t stay on the road for weeks at a time. We’re going to have to prioritize.”

Brewster said, “Depending on the venue, we can have you both do prerecorded video endorsements, either separately or together. Then they can play them on overhead monitors or whatever. Use the same script, just change the name and district. That would still be better than nothing. The same goes for President McCain.”

“I like that idea. Use the videos in the relatively safe districts, places traditionally Republican that we lost somehow in 2012. There’s no reason we can’t write scripts for the both of you that are complementary, and not simply the same words by two different people. They can use both as needed. Only use personal appearances for the iffy districts,” commented Marty. Frank nodded in agreement, as did Mike and Tom.