Chapter 33

Cal once thought that he knew all about local politics.

“Life is full of surprises,” he thought as he left his house and began the short walk to his office.

He thought it might be a good idea to make the walk, let people see him and remind them that he was on the job. The mornings were turning cool as summer was dwindling to its last days. The early sun was bright but failed to warm him, even though he was wearing his usual business suit. No doubt, it would warm up later in the day.

He was surprised when Fred Sherman’s volunteers were able to obtain more than double the needed signatures for the petition in plenty of time to put him on the ballot. He had already presented that petition to the Board of Elections.

“It took me two weeks to just scrape by with the minimum number,” he recalled as he thought about his first run for office.

It was surprising, too, when Fred phoned him to let him know that he had commitments for $45,000 from his contacts in Albany. Cal knew that it seemed like a lot of money, but the budgeting of it would be important. He had a meeting scheduled with George Lambe for late that afternoon to get that process started.

How much his opponent had at her disposal was a mystery, but he was sure that the amount that Fred promised would be enough to allow him to be competitive.

What surprised him most was how good he felt. Not very long ago the rejection of having been summarily dumped by his own party on the virtual eve of his reelection campaign would have reminded him about all that was right about him and wrong with the rest of the world. It would have served them right to do without him.

It was the very party under whose banner he had labored so long and hard. He was a productive leader in the legislature, bringing a major employer to the County and credit to his ungrateful party. It was very unfair, of course.

One would have thought the party would embrace him, his squabble with Jack Ross notwithstanding. After all, little squabbles among politicians were more the norm than peace among them.

He had been thinking about it a lot. There was something about how everything that happened served to make him wiser, although he hadn’t quite understood the whole thing. He felt wiser, but wondered if he was as wise as he needed to be.

“Maybe asking that question is a sign of wisdom,” he wondered to himself as he walked.

Cal arrived at the intersection of Maple Avenue and Main St., where the Central Business District of Appleton began. His office was across the street and down two buildings.

Cal knew he was early. Delores would be at her desk in about an hour. He expected a busy day due to the inception of his campaign. As he waited for a few cars to pass so he could cross the street he noticed a woman standing outside the door to his building.

He recognized her right away. It was Patty Warren, one of Fred Sherman’s volunteers. Cal didn’t know very much about her, excerpt that she moved to Appleton about five years ago when her husband was appointed as Agent for the Agricultural Extension Office. He’d always meant to approach and say ‘hello’, but the opportunity had never quite come up.

She waved to Cal as he crossed the street and Cal waved back.

“Hi, Cal,” she gushed as Cal arrived at the door, “I’m Patty Warren.”

She was showing a lot of teeth as she held out her hand to Cal, which he took in a tentative grasp.

“Hi, Patty,” he said, trying his best to return the smile. “We’ve never met, but I recognize you.”

Cal was never sure the first time he shook hands with a woman. It wouldn’t do to clamp down on the female hand like a Pitt Bull claiming a hambone. The woman would only resent him for hurting her and ridicule him for trying to impress her.

On the other hand, he was sure that most women disdained a dainty touch from a man. The trick was to come down in the middle. It was a certain finesse that Cal was never sure of.

“I’m flattered,” she replied, keeping her toothy smile going. “Well, we’ve met now, I guess.”

He took hold of her smallish hand with great care. He was glad that he did, as he found this woman was the dainty-hand type.

“I brought some sketches for your brochures and yard banners,” she told him as Cal fumbled for his keys to unlock the door.

Cal hadn’t noticed until that moment the portfolio folder that she carried in her other hand.

“Good!” Cal exclaimed. “Let’s go upstairs and have a look at them.”

Cal opened the door and allowed the young woman to precede him up the stairs. She was wearing black pants and a white blouse. The pants had a snug fit, bordering on being a bit tight. They reminded Cal of the last time he’d seen that kind of pants in his office—when Roxie wore them the day he asked her to the dinner and fireworks at the County Fair.

“Now that was a time when I wasn’t careful with a woman,” he reminded himself.

But he noted that his carelessness had never come to any great result and the only price to be paid was the nagging ache of wondering that he felt what he did when he allowed his mind to wander.

Cal made a mental note how Patty’s pants fit just right, which he appreciated as he followed her up the stairs. In the confined space of the stairwell he could detect her perfume, as well.

Patty waited as Cal unlocked the door to the office.

“Why don’t you go in my inner office and set up your things on my desk?” he said. “My secretary won’t be in for an hour. I’ll get some coffee going.”

“Oh, let me,” Patty chirped.

Cal thought for a second, thinking he would let her go ahead and fix the coffee, but changed his mind.

“That’s okay. I know where everything is. By the time I get the coffee brewing, you’ll be ready to show me the sketches.”

Cal searched through the cabinet in the reception area and dragged out the glass carafe and the filters, along with a foil packet of coffee. As he filled the carafe with water at the sink in the restroom he thought about Patty.

She looked to be in her early thirties, not very tall. She fit into her snug pants in a very agreeable way. She was, perhaps, just a shade more slender than Roxie and her face was a bit more pretty. Maybe it was the hair. Roxie’s was strawberry blonde and always appeared like it was getting ready to revolt. Patty was a brunette with every strand tucked into its own little place. Besides, Roxie had a hardened look. Patty looked like she lived a more carefree life.

Cal turned on the coffee maker and returned to his inner office while the coffee brewed. Patty had spread out a number of sketches and outlines on his desk. She was bending over them with her back to him when Cal walked in.

“What have you got here?” Cal asked.

Patty looked up and gave Cal another big smile.

“First, here’s a tri-fold brochure. We’ll print it on glossy paper. This page is for all your credentials, and this one will be for how you’re going to bring jobs to the County. See, here is a mention of how you’ve brought that Japanese company into the Annex.”

“What if the new company isn’t announced and we have it all over our brochure?” Cal asked. “Won’t that make us look foolish?”

“Do you really think that could happen?”

“It sure could,” Cal answered, “especially if we start passing around the brochure. Jack Ross will be sure to delay the signing until after Election Day, just to hurt our credibility.”

Patty paused for a few moments.

“That’s why you’re such a great legislator, Cal,” she said. “You’re always thinking a step ahead of the rest of us. You’re so smart.”

Cal had to agree with her on that point, notwithstanding the flattery.

“Look,” he said, “I’ve already been on TV when Jack Ross called that press conference about the potential of bringing Midco into the Annex. We’ll just reword this a bit and say that I’ve been leading the effort toward it. If someone wants to challenge me on that, I’m ready to fight it out.”

“Grrr, you’re as fierce as a lion!” Patty replied, with just a bit more conviction than Cal thought was necessary. “I just know that we’re going to win.”

She threw her hip out just an almost-imperceptible bit and Cal felt it graze him, along with her playful elbow nudge in his ribs. She returned to the sketch of the brochure on the table.

“We’ll put your photo in this space right here. I’ve made an appointment for you at Baker’s Photography Studio for this afternoon at two. They’ll take some serious poses and some smiley ones, too. I think a head and shoulders would look best...”

“I’ll leave that part to you,” Cal said. “I’ll show up and do as I’m told.”

Patty allowed herself a quick laugh and then turned her attention to the next sketch on the desk.

“What’s that?” Cal asked.

“A yard sign,” Patty answered, “red, white and blue, of course. What do you think?”

“I would shorten up the verbage,” he said. “I would drop the words ‘experienced’ and ‘jobs’. Just go with ‘CAL TUCKER’ on the top and ‘Independent’ on the bottom.”

Patty scrunched up her face while she thought. Cal could see that she wasn’t convinced.

“If you dropped those two words you’d free up a lot of space and then you could make the ‘CAL TUCKER’ bigger. It would make it easier to read when people are driving by.”

Cal waited for her to think it over some more.

“Everyone already knows how much experience I have,” he added.

“You know, Cal, I think you’re right. We’ll go with the way you said. Now, I have this other one...”

“Just one style, so everyone will recognize it,” Cal interrupted. “It should be easier on the budget, as well.”

She began packing up her materials.

“Patty, I almost forgot,” Cal said, “the coffee is ready.”

“Oh, I’d love some,” Patty chirped and Cal was on his way to dig out two cups and saucers.

He poured each full and carried the steaming cups back into the office. Patty was already packed and sitting in a chair waiting for him.

“Fix it how you would like it,” Cal said, pointing to the sugar bowl and canister of powdered cream on his credenza. “I take mine black so mine is just the way I like it.”

Patty got up and poured some of the powdered creamer into her cup. He stole another look at the black pants in motion as she crossed the room.

She returned to her chair across from him and they both took long sips of their coffees, peering over the rim of the cups at each other. When Patty set her cup back on the saucer Cal noticed that the front of her white blouse was covered in ruffles.

It hid the buttons of the blouse from view and there seemed to be a vee plunging vertically from Patty’s collarbone, but the ruffles made it impossible to be certain. It revealed some skin—but not much. It made Cal wonder how many buttons Patty left unbuttoned.

After a few moments Cal realized that he was staring at her chest, hoping that some additional cleavage would reveal itself. A sense that she was watching him do so came upon him. Cal snapped his line of vision to its proper place just in time to see her fight off a smirk.

“I can’t wait to work with you on this campaign,” she said. “Just call on me whenever you need me for anything.”

Cal was relieved that she didn’t scold him for attempting to bootleg an eyeful from under the ruffles. But, she didn’t and it was clear that she hadn’t lost her sunny disposition. So, he wondered if she was enjoying the chase just a little bit.

“It’s going to be an exciting campaign,” Cal agreed.

“I’m excited already,” Patty breathed.

Cal felt he should say something more, but he was afraid that the thoughts that were coming to mind would make him look more foolish than he had already made himself out to be. He sat silent for a few moments, fighting off his thoughts.

Patty’s double entendres made him think about some of those times when he was with Roxie and she would make comments about going for a ride in his Mustang. Here was a second bite at the apple and he hadn’t even given her a ride in his Mustang—at least not yet.

“Did you know that my divorce was final two months ago?” she asked.

The revelation made Cal gulp. He tried not to let Patty see it, but he was almost certain that she did. It occurred to him that in all the times that he’d played word tag with Roxie he hadn’t realized that the end-game would have been so easy.

He told himself to think of a quick comeback to keep the game going a bit longer. The quarry (or, he wondered for an instant, if he was the quarry) was gazing at him from across his desk, eyelashes waving like a pennant on a schooner sailing in a gale.

“I see you got the coffee going already.”

It was Delores, just arriving for work.

Cal sighed and he saw Patty roll her eyes. The game would have to be postponed on account of too many players on the field.

“Good morning, Delores,” Cal answered. “Come on in and say ‘hello’ to Patty Warren. She’s going to help with the campaign.”

Delores came through the door. The two women shook hands and warbled something at each other. Cal wasn’t very interested and didn’t listen. He turned his attention back to the campaign materials.

“Patty, let me make a few copies of the brochure and the sign. I’ve got a meeting with George Lambe later today. I want to discuss them with him.”

Patty took the materials out of her portfolio and Delores took them from her.

“Let me do that,” she said.

“I’ll give you an OK to print after George and I have a look at them later today,” Cal added.

Delores went to the reception area to use the copier.

Cal and Patty stood across the table looking at one another. He began to ask himself again about that second button under the ruffles, but snapped back to business after a second.

“It looks like we’ve both got busy days ahead of us,” Cal said.

“Looks that way,” Patty conceded. “We’ll have a lot of them before the election is over, I’m sure.”

Delores returned with the originals and the copies. She set the copies on Cal’s desk and gave the originals to Patty, who put them back into her portfolio.

“Well, I’m off,” Patty said as she began to make her way toward the door. “Lots of things to do. See you soon.”

She turned as she walked away and waved her fingers at Cal and then to Delores. Cal watched Patty walk down the stairs and then the door opened and shut behind her.

Delores was standing next to him.

“Nice young woman,” Delores said.

Cal didn’t answer.

“Well, don’t you think she was?” his secretary asked again.

Delores took a long breath, as though smelling a flower.

“Now, that’s beautiful perfume,” Delores pronounced, “not like the cheap kind that I’ve noticed some people wearing in this office.”

Cal deciphered Delores’ reference to cheap perfume. He thought it was a cheap shot, and wondered why Delores thought that Roxie deserved it. After all, no one or nothing had provoked Delores to say what she had. He decided to keep his thoughts to himself.

“I wouldn’t know the cheap stuff from the expensive kind,” he said. “I might think one is cheap and find out it’s the expensive kind, or that what seems like the expensive kind might not be at all.”

“Well, don’t you think Patty was nice?” Delores asked once again.

“Yes,” he replied, “I suppose she’s nice enough.”

Cal only realized how fast his day was slipping by when he looked up at the clock. He crammed his backlog of legal work into the morning and early afternoon hours after skipping lunch.

Delores told him that he had to pace himself, but Cal knew that she realized that he wasn’t paying any attention to her advice.

Baker’s Photography Studio wasn’t far from the County Office Building. Cal wondered if he should go home and put on his best suit and, maybe, get a haircut before going to his appointment.

“You look fine to me,” Delores told him. “And, if you get a haircut now you’ll look like you just got a haircut.”

It was hard for Cal to argue with the logic of that.

“Besides, it will be head and shoulders photos, so it won’t matter if your pants are pressed or not.”

“I pressed them this morning,” Cal protested.

“If you say so,” Delores answered without looking up at him.

Cal looked down at the crease in his trousers and thought they were better than fine. Delores was always careful not to let him think he could do an adequate job of taking care of those domestic chores for himself.

So, he checked the knot in his tie a last time and packed the campaign materials in his briefcase and he was on his way.

“I’ve got an appointment with George at the end of the day, so I doubt I’ll be back today,” he told Delores. “Just lock up when it’s time to close the office.”

The walk from his office to the photography studio would take about fifteen minutes, and he was happy to have those minutes alone with his thoughts.