Chapter 16
Dot and Fletcher invited Rose to join the call since she was the best volunteer the Democrats had. Her knowledge of Wisconsin election history ran deep, and they needed her expertise.
Dot turned on their camera and unmuted the microphone. Kitty was there from her Georgetown house, waiting. She always seemed to be a step ahead of them.
“Kitty, hey gorgeous! It’s great to see you!” Fletcher said.
Was that kind of greeting still allowed? Dot couldn’t get over the super-bold way he flirted with the woman they reported to.
Kitty did look put together, though. She’d pulled her dark red hair into a sleek low bun and wore a deep purple cashmere crewneck with a thin gold chain and crystal chandelier earrings.
“Oh, stop, Fletch,” she said, pretending to brush off the compliment.
Fletch? Dot took note of the nickname. They sure were chummy.
“Hi, Rose—it’s been a while since I saw you last cycle. You never age! You’ll have to tell me your secret.” Kitty had volunteered for the DNC during the last presidential election. That’s how she’d met Rose and made so many contacts that led to her running For the Win.
Rose laughed the compliment away. “It must be the climate, Kitty.”
“And Dot—how’s it going? Are you settling in?”
“Everything’s great. The house is huge. Harper says she’ll never go back to sharing a bathroom.” Dot projected optimism and didn’t bother telling Kitty about their adjustments to suburban Wisconsin living and Mary’s worries that she’d never thaw out.
“Good, I’m glad. I want you to be comfortable. If there’s anything you need, shoot me a note or just expense it.”
Dot wasn’t used to this kind of financial free rein. At the PR firm, she’d watched every penny and was careful not to expense anything that would draw attention.
“We have a lot of work to do getting ready for the debate,” Kitty said.
“Before we start on that,” Fletcher said, “do you have any polling updates? Just so we’re not flying blind.”
“Glad you asked. This came in overnight.” Kitty threw up a PowerPoint slide on their shared screen. Dot, Fletcher, and Rose leaned in.
“As you can see, we have a bit of a challenge. Overall, Wisconsin voters are saying they prefer Republicans to Democrats by about five points. That’s the number we need to change.” Kitty used her stylus to circle the polls.
“How does that compare to the last election?” Dot asked.
“Back then, at this point in the cycle, it was a little closer but not much different. So, to prevent another loss, we need to drive up the Republicans’ unfavorables and increase our favorables. It’s going to take some time and effort. And money. But we have plenty of all three.”
“Do you have any numbers on the top issues for likely voters?” Fletcher asked, noting the delta between being registered to vote versus likely to vote. The difference between those two groups could swing a close election.
Kitty switched to another slide.
“Here’s what the national polling shows.
The DNC didn’t do a state-specific survey yet.
As you can see, the economy is number one across the board for both parties.
But after that, Republicans and Democrats diverge.
Republicans say they’re concerned about government spending, crime, and immigration.
And the Democrats mention health care, climate change, and abortion rights—in that order. ”
Rose scowled.
“What do you think, Rose?” Kitty had picked up on the older woman’s skepticism.
“Well, I respect the DNC, but I just don’t know many Democrats around here who prioritize that way. And last time, we got so caught up in what the DNC thought that we ended up losing. In my humble opinion.”
“I agree,” Kitty said. “That’s one of the reasons I wanted to do this project. We need to listen to the people there and not let Washington drive.”
“Exactly,” Rose said. “The voters I know care mostly about jobs, the price of food and gas, the economic future for their children. That includes health care in their minds. And then way down the list is climate change and abortion. If we follow the national trends, we won’t win here.”
“You’re preaching to the choir,” Kitty agreed. “I just need to play nice with the priorities of the DNC while delivering Wisconsin by focusing on what we know matters.”
“It reminds me of 2016 when we were begging for visits to the state from campaign headquarters and the DNC, because we could feel Wisconsin slipping away,” Rose reminisced. “But oh no, they had their fancy data. Those Brooklyn kids believed they knew more about Wisconsin than we did.”
“And look how that turned out,” Kitty said. Then, moving the conversation along, added, “I promise we’re not going to let that happen again. But Rose, don’t be shy. Let us know what you’re thinking and hearing.”
“You betcha,” Rose said. Dot smiled at her sweet singsong of a midwestern accent.
“Dot, I love that you found out your neighbors didn’t vote last time around. Do you think they’re gettable this time? They can’t be the only ones who stayed home, looking at the numbers.”
“You’re talking about the Gundersons. Yes, I think so. If we have the right candidate. They’re motivated to, as they put it, ‘see change.’ We’re having dinner at their house next week, so I’ll see what else I can pick up.” Dot made a mental note to remember to buy a hostess gift.
“Speaking of candidates, should we switch gears to the debate?” Fletcher opened his tan Moleskine to take notes. “I’m thinking we need one or two volunteers per candidate?”
“Whatever you think we need,” Kitty said. “My main objective is for everyone to walk away with good feelings about For the Win, so they pass good words back to the DNC and the eventual presidential campaign once we have a candidate.”
Rose raised her hand. “I have several volunteers already lined up. I’ll get their contact information to Fletcher today.”
“Great. Dot, could you make sure to order the volunteers something nice to thank them? And maybe they should have matching T-shirts or even polos for the night? With the FTW logo? I like that idea. I’ll order them.
Oh, and Dot—could you organize a nice gift bag for the candidates—good local stuff that they’ll love and not just throw away? ” Kitty’s ideas came fast.
“On it.” Dot noted her assignments and was amazed again that money was no matter at all. Then, sensing an opening, she decided to throw out an idea she’d had in the shower that morning.
“So, I wanted to run something by you. Since we arrived in Cedar Falls, I’ve noticed that there are a ton of community events here.
There’s something every weekend—a potluck, a dinner dance, a festival, live music, fundraisers.
That kind of thing.” It seemed to Dot there were almost more things to do in Cedar Falls than in New York.
“What if For the Win sponsored a chartered bus that would take people from Cedar Falls to the debate and back?” she continued.
“We could serve a boxed lunch on the way and have local beer and snacks on the return. And then, because they’ll have signed up, we’ll also have their contact info for future calls and door knocking. ”
“Love that. Smart.” Kitty beamed at Dot’s suggestion. “Let me confirm I can get enough seats for inside the auditorium at the debate. How many do you think? Fifty or so? Yes, I think so.” Kitty often answered her own questions. “The DNC will love it.”
Dot nodded and started a to-do list. She loved to please.
After they wrapped up the call, Rose went to call some of her veteran volunteers and Dot and Fletcher went over their meeting notes to make sure they’d not missed anything.
“So, you know Kitty pretty well?” Dot asked, trying to casually get some intel.
“Oh, yeah. When we were with College Democrats, we hung out with the same crowd at events,” he said. “She’s incredibly driven.”
“Tell me about it. I feel like I have a lot of ambition, but she’s next level.”
“Well, she’s also highly motivated to win. And not just because she wants Democrats to get elected.”
“How so?” Dot asked.
“Well, for one thing, there’s the money. There’s a huge win bonus for her if she can prove that For the Win helped get back the White House.”
“A win bonus?” Dot asked. “I’ve never heard of that.”
“Basically, if the Democratic candidate wins in November, she gets the dough.” He made a gesture of rubbing cash between his fingers and thumb.
“How much are we talking?”
“It’s at least $500,000. My dad said that most of these PAC directors won’t do it for less. They take a lower salary but have the potential for a big payday if they succeed.”
“That’s so much money. I can’t even imagine that number in my bank account.” Dot felt suddenly terribly inadequate and na?ve.
“But perhaps even more than the money, Kitty really wants to be seen as the go-to Democrat on the Georgetown cocktail circuit. My mom says she’s got a great gift for hosting and brings lots of people together to help make connections.
People go there to network and gossip, which is the most valuable currency in Washington.
So, if the Democrats win, she’ll get the money and likely a job in the White House.
Then everyone will want to come to be one of her guests. ”
“And reach all of her goals before she’s thirty,” Dot said, realizing the stakes for Kitty were even higher than she’d known.
DOT, FLETCHER, AND Rose worked through the afternoon and had a good plan underway for the debate bus charter. Then, as the winter sun set around 5:15 p.m. and the sky turned into swirls of pink, Dot felt her phone buzz. It was a text from Harper.
“Mary’s cooking. Big scene. She’s bringing Staten Island to Cedar Falls. Home soon?”
“20 mins.” She added a red wine emoji. Harper gave her a thumbs-up. They’d bought a couple of bottles at the local wine shop, Pour Decisions, over the weekend.
Dot called over to where Fletcher was sitting. “Would you mind locking up tonight? Apparently, Mary’s making a big dinner.”
“You got it, Dottie.”
Dottie? Dot’s brow creased at the nickname.
“Dot-erino?” Fletcher gave it another shot, but her head tilted to the side. She didn’t like it.
“Too much too soon?” he asked.
Dot nodded.
“How about we go with . . . Dot?”
“Perfect,” she said, then she spent the last few minutes handling emails and tidying up the kitchen area. She wanted everyone to know she wasn’t above any task.
Before leaving the office, she looked at the February picture of her Manhattan calendar—a winter scene of ice skaters at the Wollman Rink in Central Park.
A pang of longing passed through her. She always loved getting Mary and Harper to join her for a skate, even if Mary was a bit like Bambi with her long legs not quite steady on the blades and Harper held her hand so tightly it cut off her circulation.
While she was putting her all into her work for FTW, she very much missed the city. Dot drew her red Sharpie across that Monday’s date.
They were one day closer to Election Day . . . and their return to the city.