“Me too,” said Tim.
“Fine with me. Start thinking about finding your replacements, and think about who else from the staff we’ll want on the campaign.”
“You know,” Kitty said wonderingly, “until a few minutes ago, I had a hangover; now it’s gone.”
Will laughed. “Me too. Now let’s get to work.”
12
Kate looked at him across the kitchen table. “How do you feel now that you’ve started?” she asked. She had whipped up a dinner of leftovers from their New Year’s party and had opened a bottle of merlot.
“Strange,” he said. “Exhilarated; tired; a little scared.”
“I don’t blame you, on any of those counts.”
The phone rang.
Will picked it up. “Hello?”
“Will, it’s Susan Adams; how are you?”
“Great, Sue; let me put you on the speaker so Kate can hear.” He pressed the speaker button. “Okay, we’re here.”
“First of all, I want to thank you for such a wonderful evening on New Year’s Eve. It was a great way to finish out the millennium.”
“We were delighted to have you both,” Kate said. “How’s Joe?”
As you saw the other night, he’s doing well. Which brings me to my point. I have some good news, some bad news, and some good news.”
“Shoot,” Will said.
“First, the good news: Joe is going to make his withdrawal announcement next Friday.”
That took Will’s breath away; he hadn’t expected Joe to move so soon.
“We both felt we should get it over with and give the other candidates as much time as we can.”
“I expect you’re right,” Will said.
“I know this won’t give you as much time as you’d like to prepare, Will, but at least, you’re getting most of a week.”
“I can’t complain, Sue.”
“Now the bad news: I’m going into Walter Reed tomorrow for a lumpectomy.”
“Oh, Sue,” Kate said, “I’m so sorry. I assume it’s contained, if you’re not having a radical mastectomy.”
“That’s what my doctor assumes, too. I’m not real exercised about it; I’m sure everything is going to be okay. The other good news is that Joe is going to have an excuse to drop out of the race: more time with me, and all that, and it won’t be a lie. We’ve both become very conscious that our time together will be a lot shorter than we’d planned.”
“I see your point,” Will said. “It’s going to be a shock any way you put it, but—”
“We’re going to let a rumor out starting on Wednesday,” Sue said, “just to give some sort of media transition. By Thursday night, it’ll probably make the news. Joe thinks you should announce on Saturday; that’ll give you a shot at the Sunday-morning TV shows.”
“That makes sense, I guess,” Will said.
“You can say that I told you today. Let’s not refer to our meeting at Camp David; it would hurt a lot of feelings around town, if people thought you knew that far in advance.”
“Good point.”
“You won’t have to lie, Will; I know how you feel about that. After all, I did tell you today, just now.”
“I’m okay with that,” Will said.
“Oh, I’m being called to dinner,” Sue said. “I’d better run.”
“Thank you, Sue, and thank Joe for the warning. And our prayers will be with you tomorrow.” They both hung up.
“Well, it’s really on, I guess,” Kate said.
“Looks that way.”
“I’ll tell you the truth,” she said, “I’d half suspected that Joe would have second thoughts and let the clock run out through the campaign before he pulled out. That would have made him more the kingmaker.”
“That wouldn’t be like Joe,” Will said.
“I know, and I feel guilty about thinking that.”
The phone rang again, and Will picked it up.
“Hello?”
“Will, it’s Joe.”
Will punched the speaker button. “Hi, Joe; Kate can hear you, too. We were both sorry to hear about Sue’s illness.”
“It’s going to be okay; don’t worry. The reason I called is that Sue forgot to tell you something.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m going to wait a while after my announcement on Friday before I make an endorsement. I’m not sure just how long.”
This was a blow, but Will took it as well as he could. “I understand, Joe.”
“I think my endorsement will mean more after all the candidates have had an opportunity to establish a presence in the campaign and had an opportunity to have their positions on the issues known.”
“You have a point, Joe,” Will said.
“Don’t worry, Will; I still think you’re the best man for the job, and I’m sure I’ll still think so closer to the convention.”
“Thanks, Joe.”
“They’re holding dinner for me, so I’ll say good night, and thanks again for the great evening.”
“Good night, Joe.” Will hung up.
“Well,” Kate said, “now I don’t feel so guilty about thinking Joe wanted to be a kingmaker.”
“Oh, I don’t know; this might be the best thing. The endorsement might mean a lot more later, when he can say he’s considered everybody.”
“You noticed, didn’t you, that he didn’t exactly say he was going to endorse you?”
Will poked at his food. “Yeah, I noticed that.”
“He’s playing his cards close to his chest; he’s going to want something when the time comes.”
“He already knows he can have anything in my gift.”
“So, how do you feel now?”
“A little deflated, and more scared than ever. Somehow I thought I was going to have most of January to plan. I guess not.”
“Six days is better than nothing, which is what the other candidates will have.”
“Don’t worry about them; when the rumor hits the streets, people all over town are going to start making plans.” He punched the speaker phone and started dialing. “Excuse me.” It took less than a minute to conference Tim Coleman and Kitty Conroy. “You both listening?”
“Yes,” they said simultaneously.
“I’m going to announce on Saturday,” he said.
“This coming Saturday?” Tim said, aghast.
“It can’t wait; you’ll know why later in the week. We’ll start calling the people on our list on Friday. Kitty, wait until then to stake out the Capitol steps for the announcement.”
“This is all very strange,” Kitty said.
“It’ll make a lot more sense by the end of the week,” Will said.
“Will,” Tim said, “I think our first calls on Friday should be to your Atlanta office. You’ve got a hard core of supporters there who’ll volunteer to man a campaign office until we can get up and running. Let’s get a couple dozen people on a chartered bus Saturday morning and have the office open on Monday.”
“Sounds good, but we’re going to have to find a headquarters, and we can’t start looking until Friday.”
“Can’t we fudge the date just a little?”
Will thought about it. “All right, you can start on Wednesday morning, but do it through a third party. I’ll see what I can do, as well.”
“Okay,” Tim said.
“Kitty, start working on a draft of a two-minute announcement speech, with the appropriate built-in sound bites.”
“Right. I’ve got an idea for Saturday.”
“Shoot.”
“Let’s get that bus started up here from Atlanta on Friday night and have you surrounded by supporters for the announcement.”
“Good idea. Call the Atlanta office and tell them to book the bus, but don’t tell them why. Book some hotel rooms around town for these folks to stay in.”
“Consider it done.”
“Okay, people, I want to see you both in my hideaway at 7 A.M., so get a good night’s sleep. It might be your last for a while.” He hung up.