Chapter 15
When she got to the office, Dot held the box of pastries in one arm and opened the office door with the other. She twirled around and landed inside the warm room. She blinked a few times, stomped her feet to clear them of snow, and shook off the cold.
The space held several desks, a couple of printers, and a few signed posters of Democratic memorabilia from all the campaign stops politicians had made in Cedar Falls over the years.
“Good morning!” she called out. She knew someone was there because the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the office. She couldn’t wait for her first sip.
“Hi, Dot. Be right there.” Of course, Rose Perkins was already in the office.
Rose was one of the first people Dot met at the local DNC headquarters.
She was eighty-two years old yet seemed a decade younger.
She’d volunteered with the Democrats since she was young and John F. Kennedy was the party’s nominee.
Rose had been a widow for three years. Her children and grandchildren still lived in the area. Along with a wide circle of friends and her work for the party, she was busy as ever.
“I brought a few treats for the team,” Dot said, laying the pastry box next to the coffeepot and throwing her Schnecken in the microwave to warm it up.
Rose came around the corner, dressed in black knit pants, tall lace-up winter boots, a white turtleneck, and a Green Bay Packers hoodie. The sweatshirt was a gift from her grandson who worked at an AI start-up in Milwaukee.
“You’re an angel.” Rose chose a bear claw and grabbed a napkin. Then she poured coffee into two of the ceramic mix-and-match cups that had collected there over the years. No one had the heart to throw any of them away.
“Brats, Cheese, and Beers Can Save Democracy” was Dot’s favorite.
Rose loved the white Clinton/Gore one. She was a longtime Bubba fan.
“In politics, you only fall in love once,” she’d said when they first met and were getting to know each other. Dot wasn’t sure she was in love with any of the candidates yet, but she fondly remembered President Obama from her childhood.
Dot had delicately brought up President Clinton’s scandal with the intern.
She’d watched an entire show about it on Prime.
She still couldn’t believe that the women’s groups hadn’t backed the women caught up in the president’s scandals.
She liked to believe that they would today and said as much to Rose.
“I’m not so sure of that,” Rose had said. “I remember that I didn’t think it was handled well at the time. And it certainly hurt the party. In fact, I believe it was one of the reasons Hillary didn’t win when she ran in sixteen.”
“Oh gosh, don’t remind me. I cried the entire next day.” Dot recalled how stunned her parents had been when Hillary lost.
“Well, if there’s something I’ve learned over the years, it’s that politicians are mere humans like the rest of us. And at some point, even the ones you love will let you down.”
“Kind of like influencers,” Dot said.
“What are those?” Rose asked, and when Dot went to explain, she saw the older woman was kidding. “I have grandchildren, you know.”
“You got me!” Dot said. It wouldn’t be the only time Rose surprised her.
Rose finished making her coffee to her liking with a packet of sugar and a dash of half and half. Then she clinked mugs with Dot.
“Congrats on the Packers!” Dot had passively watched the Sunday night game knowing that all of Wisconsin was transfixed.
“What a game! My family didn’t go home until almost midnight—we stayed up to watch all the interviews and the partying. Who knows how the kids will do in school today?”
“It’ll be a memory they have forever,” Dot said, glad that Rose was a morning person like her. It made getting the day started so much nicer.
“Any sign of Fletcher?” Dot started to arrange chairs around the Polycom for the conference call.
“Not yet. But we’ll hear him coming. That boy sure can make an entrance.”
Fletcher Abbott was another For the Win volunteer doing a year in Wisconsin. A native of San Francisco, at twenty-seven, he was anxious to head east to New York. But first, he was spending the election season in Cedar Falls.
Fletcher was very tall with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He had a sharp jawline, almond-shaped hazel eyes, foppish light brown hair, and an easy, wide smile.
He turned all the girls’ heads. Plus, he was friendly and approachable.
His parents, early employees when Facebook went public, were donors to For the Win.
Given all that, he and Dot found common ground right away.
They could easily talk about high tech or politics.
“He’s almost pretty,” Mary had said when she, Dot, and Harper observed him from across the bar at the Badger Trap the first week they were in Cedar Falls.
Dot and Fletcher had proposed a FTW “snow happy to meet you” cocktail party to introduce themselves to the local Democrats who worked in the office and volunteered on the campaigns.
Free food and curiosity led to a good turnout, even in the freezing winter temps.
“I don’t know. I mean, he’s not my type.” Dot looked at her nails and pretended he wasn’t hot.
“Who are you trying to convince—me or you?” Mary asked.
“Doesn’t matter to me anymore. I’m swearing off all good-looking guys,” Harper cut in. “From now on, I’ll only date nice guys nobody wants.”
“Why can’t you have nice and good looking?”
“You can only pick one.” Harper sighed. “It’s the way of the world. Or at least it is for me.”
Dot stirred her vodka soda. She was not looking for love in Wisconsin. She was still getting over her breakup with Ryan. And while she didn’t regret calling it quits with him, she missed the idea of him. Plus, she’d put off dating until she was back in the city—her new personal policy.
The thing was, Fletcher would be in Manhattan after the election, too.
He’d graduated from Princeton two years ago and knew Kitty Bell from his time working with the College Dems. She recruited him to the FTW project when she’d recognized his parents’ names among the big donors to the PAC.
She’d given Fletcher his choice of purple state in which to volunteer.
He’d chosen Wisconsin for the same reason as Dot: It had the most potential to flip from red to blue—a high-impact opportunity.
A bit of a nepo baby, Fletcher was living large.
Not only did he have the FTW assignment, but he also already had a cool job offer in New York, regardless of who won in November.
He was set to join an up-and-coming Democratic influencer incubator that was trying to beat the conservative podcasting world at their own game.
Big donors were throwing tons of money at the problem, hoping some of it would stick.
So far, no one had cracked the code, but Fletcher aimed to change that.
They’d promised him his own podcast and everything he’d need to create content and build a following.
Fletcher’s near-term plan made Dot a little uneasy and somewhat envious.
Whereas he had his next moves all planned out, she was staring at a blank slate.
She had nothing set up for after the election.
But when she tried to picture herself as a Democratic influencer, she’d laugh.
She liked to listen to podcasts, not rant and rave on them.
When she thought about it too much, she’d start a cycle of worry that was hard to stop. She actively had to shove aside thoughts about what would come next and trust that it would all work out. Because for the time being, she needed to prove herself to FTW.
She turned on the flat-screen monitor on the wall of the conference room and made sure that the Zoom login was working. She hated to have to scramble at the last minute to find she had the wrong link.
“Yoo-hoo, I’m home!” Fletcher came in, big and brash, and gave Rose a hug. “The Pack crushed it last night!”
Rose gave him a high five.
“Are you ever going to take off that swag, Rose?” he asked.
“I’m thinking it was good luck. I might wear it every day until the election!” she replied.
“Good thing green’s your color!” He winked at her. Rose blushed. He had his charms.
“Morning, Dot,” Fletcher called. “Thanks for the nosh!” He grabbed a Danish and a chocolate croissant and took a seat in the small conference room.
He took a bite of pastry and wiped his sticky hands on a paper napkin.
“Did you hear that we’re likely to get another candidate? And just before the next debate. Crazy,” Fletcher said.
“You’re talking about the tech guy from Austin? One of the bros said yesterday that Texas is fool’s gold for Democrats. But if he’s going to throw his own money away, who’s to stop him?” Dot asked.
Fletcher nodded in agreement. “I’m sure the DNC would rather he donate to winnable races. He’ll probably throw a hundred million dollars of his own money . . . at his home state.”
“And still lose by six or seven points,” Dot agreed. “If he even makes it that far.”
She checked her phone. It was almost eight. Time to log on to the Zoom and get this campaign going.