Staffer Number One simply smiled and shook his head. "Not really, Congressman." Yes really, we leaked it.
My mind was racing at this point. Was this part of the selection process? Leak a name and see what happens? Does the candidate start some kind of response? Does he begin pushing his name in the press, or stating he doesn't want the job, or complaining about the other candidates? So far I hadn't done any of those things. My responses had all been a variation of two themes, and I gave them both again. "Well, of course I want to do anything I can to help Governor Bush in his bid for the White House. I'm just surprised that my name ever came up when there are so many much higher profile candidates."
"Congressman, you never actually came out in support of Governor Bush during the primaries. Why is that?", asked Number Two.
I gave a noncommittal shrug. "It was always my position that I would support the eventual winner. My concern was for the future. If I supported the Governor, I've just made Senator McCain unhappy, and I have to work with him. If I support Senator McCain, I have the same issue with President Bush if the Governor wins, and even if he loses, I didn't want to insult his father, the first President Bush, who I hold in the highest respect." That seemed a decent enough argument. "Besides, I'm damn near the only Republican in the Maryland Ninth, and I don't think I am going to sway anybody else in the state to vote Republican. I suspect Maryland will vote for Al Gore." I gave a wry smile as I said this.
I received a smile in return. Two asked, "You were a supporter of the Governor's father, correct?"
"Very much so. He was in office when I first came to Capitol Hill, and I consider him a fine gentleman and a good President. I definitely supported him in his re-election run.", I answered firmly.
One nodded and asked, "Back to the reason we are here. What would your thoughts be as to being on the ticket?"
I stared at the man for a moment, and then looked back and forth between them. They weren't smiling or joking. "This is serious? I'm being considered for the short list?"
"Yes, sir. This is serious. Your name has been brought up in conjunction with the short list."
I sagged back into my chair at that. My brain was running in about a million directions. After about thirty seconds, I repeated it. "Seriously?"
"Yes, sir."
I blinked at that. "Well, it's certainly not something I had considered. I figured somebody was just trying to stir the pot and see what rose to the top. All I can tell you is that I would have to give this some serious thought."
Two said, "I would think, Congressman Buckman, that in the last few weeks, since these rumors started, that you've had a chance to think about this already."
I gave him a hard look. "There's thinking about it and then there's thinking about it. I would certainly have to discuss this with my wife and family."
They glanced at each other and nodded imperceptibly. One opened his briefcase and brought out a thick manila envelope. "Congressman, as you can imagine, there are certain time constraints we are operating under. We are just starting the process of vetting all the candidates. If you are interested in being on the short list, we'll need to know within two weeks, and we'll need this paperwork filled out by then."
I raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh? What is this, a job application?"
One gave a small shrug and an even smaller smile, and Two simply nodded. "It's simply some background material Mister Cheney and Governor Bush will need to help make the decision."
I eyed the envelope. "Let me look this over. I'll be in touch."
"We'll need this filled out in two weeks, sir."
"I'll be in touch." I stood up, ending the meeting.
One then said, "This needs to be kept in the strictest confidence, of course."
I eyed him and cocked my head to the side. "Well, that ends my plans to tell the New York Times, doesn't it? I need to talk this over with my wife."
"Of course, sir."
"Good day, Congressman."
"Good day."
I showed the staffers out the door and then closed it behind them. I went back to the couch and sat down. Grabbing the envelope, I opened it up and leafed through the paperwork. It was a lengthy form with over 80 questions. If I thought the vetting process had been bad when I ran for Congress, this was ten times worse! Vast sections were about my finances, they wanted details of all my living relatives (and Marilyn's) out as far as we could find them, and details about my education and military experience I wasn't sure I could ever remember. I needed to provide copies of my voting record since I entered Congress along with copies of all speeches ever given. There were releases which needed to be signed so they could obtain transcripts, public records, and even my medical records. There was stuff in there I had never heard of. No way would I ever be able to fill it out; this would require my lawyers and accountants. The response would probably involve enough paperwork to fill a van.
Still, none of it meant anything unless Marilyn gave me her approval. Did I even want to do it? Maybe, if I could have any kind of influence on George Bush, if I was selected, if we made it into office. There were a lot of ifs in that statement. First things first. I pulled out my phone and hit the speed dial for Marilyn.
"Hello?"
"Hi. You busy?"
"Not particularly. I was just about to switch the laundry from the washer to the dryer. What's up?"
"Are you alone?"
"No, I have the pool boy, the lawn boy, and a couple of maintenance guys waiting for me in the bedroom. Why?"
"Marilyn!"
"Of course I'm alone! The girls are in school. What's up?"
"Listen, you can't tell them, or anybody else. You know, like you wouldn't tell your mother all the things you like having me do late at night..."
"CARL!"
"Okay, you know those rumors about me being on the short list for the VP slot? They aren't just rumors. I'm really under consideration.", I told her.
"What? Really?"
"That's about what I said.", I admitted. "I just had a couple of staff guys from Dick Cheney's office in here sounding me out. They left me with some paperwork I need to sort through, and I have to give them an answer in two weeks."
There was silence for a moment, then she asked, "What do you want to do?"
"I don't know. What do you want me to do?"
"I don't know. Do you want to be the Vice President?", Marilyn asked.
"Yes. No. Maybe. If I could actually do anything, then maybe, but no way do I want to do this if you don't want me to."
"They didn't ask me."
"Marilyn, I'm serious. I know you've said I should do something if I thought I could, but this is a whole different level of weird! If I say yes, and if I get selected, and if we win in November ... well, it really affects all of us!"
"Huh." There was some more silence, then she said, "I'm not saying no, but I want to talk about it tonight."
"Fair enough. See you later."
I couldn't think enough to get anything else accomplished that afternoon, so I called for my driver and packed the envelope into my briefcase. I was home about an hour later, arriving just after the girls came home from cheerleading practice. Tonight was spaghetti night. I really wasn't in the mood for small talk, but no way did I want to discuss this over the dinner table with my daughters.