Chapter 20
Debate day finally arrived.
Kitty had flown in from D.C. the night before to ride with her For the Win team to the University of Wisconsin for the event. She’d stayed the night next to the Democratic offices at a boutique hotel called Maple and Main.
“Sorry it isn’t a four-star,” Dot said when she arrived. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to apologize. The Inn was adorable.
“It’s perfect,” Kitty said, though she eyed the chintz fabric with a skeptical eye. “I like quaint.”
Dot wasn’t sure she believed her but appreciated the effort at feigning comfort. She and Kitty had a quick drink at the self-serve bar in the hotel sitting room and caught up. She briefed her on the plans for the bus ride to Madison.
“It sounds like you’ve thought of everything,” Kitty said.
“Team effort.” Dot wanted to make sure Rose, Fletcher, and the volunteers got due credit.
“It’s appreciated,” Kitty said. “And if all goes well, we’ll win in November.”
“And you’ll get a win bonus,” Dot said, her hand immediately flying to her mouth in shock that she’d just said that.
Kitty froze for a moment but recovered, a softness coming over her eyes. She nodded slowly and waved her hand dismissively. “That’s right. It’s standard for all consultants, though. It isn’t something special just for me.” Her voice had a defensive bite.
“Oh, I think it’s great,” Dot said, trying to recover and lighten the moment. “And I sure hope we win. And that you get your bonus.”
“There’s a lot more riding on all this than the bonus, which isn’t that much money anyway,” Kitty said.
Dot tried to hide the skepticism she felt. To her, half a million dollars was . . . a half a million dollars.
Kitty took a sip of wine and continued, “After all, we have a country to save.”
“Indeed,” Dot said, matching Kitty’s grave tone.
Kitty laughed, giving Dot’s shoulder a small push. “Come on, don’t be so serious.”
Dot decided to embrace the moment and laughed, too.
“Tell me more. What else is happening around the state I should know about?” Kitty sat back ready to listen to whatever information Dot could share about voter preferences and local concerns. They chatted for another thirty minutes, and then they both decided it was time to get some sleep.
On her walk home that night, feeling safe in the quiet suburban town, Dot thought how awkward the bonus talk had been, but admitted how Kitty had been very open about it.
“And why shouldn’t she get paid what other consultants got if they turned in a victory?
” Dot thought. She vowed to be more like Kitty Bell and not care so much what others thought about her.
But she’d have to do that another day. For now, she needed to focus on job one—the debate.
THE NEXT MORNING, Kitty sat with Rose at the front of the bus, looking chic in tall, high-heeled boots, a black leather skirt, and a royal-blue silk turtleneck and matching felt-wool blazer. Her engagement ring was blinding.
“Is she marrying a royal?” Harper asked, sitting next to Dot, and well out of Kitty’s earshot.
“Almost. In Washington, he’s definitely a princeling: a high-flying lobbyist named Casey Morgan.”
“Sounds like they make the perfect couple,” Harper said. “There’s gotta be a catch.”
“I’ve been looking. Haven’t found one yet,” Dot said.
Rose had finally taken off her Packers swag and wore an ivory twinset, blue knit pants from Eileen Fisher, and her white “dress” sneakers. A vintage red, white, and blue donkey pin she’d had since Walter Mondale’s campaign completed her outfit.
“I’ve never been able to wear heels like that,” they heard Rose say to Kitty, pointing to her boots. “They’re very . . . sexy.”
Kitty placed a hand on her arm. “Don’t be surprised if I’m crying by the end of the night. They’re already killing me.”
The bus rolled along Highway 60 to Madison. The guests ate their made-to-order wraps, and Mimi’s “Make Wisconsin Blue Again” frosted cookies were a big hit. She’d even thought to bring wet wipes for everyone so that they didn’t smear blue dye on their clothes.
After lunch, a local struggling comic who Dot hired for entertainment led a Wisconsin trivia contest from the front of the bus with a microphone:
Name the cheese that was invented in Wisconsin but sounds like a European country? (It’s very holey. Swiss!)
In what Wisconsin city was splinter-free toilet paper first made? (Green Bay . . . Our thanks to the inventors!)
These dolls became collectibles . . . and have nothing to do with cabbage patches . . . (American Girl Dolls)
“I thought they came from Midtown Manhattan,” Dot joked to Rose.
And the final question—name the circus that launched in the Badger State? (No, Ted, it wasn’t the Democratic primary . . . it was Ringling Brothers!)
The riders loved it. Kitty noted the smiling, engaged passengers in the large rearview mirror and turned around to where Dot was sitting and said, “This is so great.”
Dot beamed. She loved to be complimented on her ideas.
Remembering Harper, she glanced back to check on her.
She’d moved to sit with Ted Jankowski and his friend Fred Harkin.
The two men had been high school teachers together; Ted had taught English and ran the speech and debate club, while Fred was a biology teacher and coached the football team.
They were arguing about the Bucks’ terrible season and their hope for the Brewers that spring.
Harper was leaning in, listening to the older men tell her stories. Her eyes sparkled. She caught Dot’s eye and smiled. “They’re so cute!” she mouthed. Then she reached for Ted’s hand and clasped it. He beamed.
Dot could relax a little—everything was going well. So far.
MARY HAD WANTED to volunteer at the debate, so she’d worked overnight to finish the legal work assigned to her by the partners working on a big corporate merger. Dot had asked Mary to travel earlier in the day with Fletcher and their team of volunteers in a separate sprinter van.
“All good?” Dot texted.
“I saw a cow!” She added a cow emoji.
“Yeah. It’s Wisconsin.”
“CA gov team here. He looks like an actor.”
“He is an actor,” Dot typed. “Like he’d rather win an Oscar than an election. Keep me posted? Kitty’s hounding me for info.”
“Will do. Fletch is funny. Might run away with him.”
“Wait until after the debate?” Dot had to hand it to that guy—even Mary was charmed by him.
“Here, show Kitty these.” Mary then sent a series of photos and a video of the site showing the camera crews setting up on a platform in front of the stage decorated in red, white, and blue. The nine podiums were in position, spaced two feet apart.
“And here’s a video of the greenroom. Then the last one is the spin room.” She’d kept the videos short. “Oh, and here’s one of Fletcher fooling around.” She’d taken a photo of him pretending to be a candidate on center stage.
“Those are great. Any reporters there yet?”
“Yes—they’re walking around. I even saw Bill Hemmer from Fox. He’s my mom’s favorite.”
“Your parents still watch Fox?”
“24/7.”
“Wow. It’s a miracle you turned out the way you did.”
“They think it’s more of a tragedy than a miracle.”
Dot sent a laughing emoji and said she’d see her soon. They had about ten minutes left in their journey.
With the time remaining, Dot nodded to Kitty that it was time for her to say a few words. Dot took the comedian’s mic and got everyone’s attention.
“Hi. I’m so glad you’re having a good time.
I want to introduce Kitty Bell. She runs For the Win, which is the Super PAC that organized our excursion today.
She’s got some key insight into tonight’s debate and agreed to say a few words.
Kitty?” Dot knew to keep intros short. A round of applause greeted Kitty’s mic takeover.
“Well, thank you all. And thank you, Dot. This has been a terrific prelude to tonight’s big event. I thought I’d give you a little scoop about the state of the race.” She had their attention now. Everyone loves to feel like they know something more than their friends and neighbors.
“You’re all very politically active, so you know we have nine candidates. They’re all interesting people, and collectively, this is a strong democratic field. But we’ve done some data analysis, and truly there are only three likely to advance in the primary.
“The ones unlikely to move forward include the senator from New England. While Virgil Penfield is popular with some, and he’s run several times before, this time around, he’s not gaining traction. We want him for comic relief, though. He’s got some great one-liners and is an experienced debater.
“You can also trust that the vegan mayor from Newark, Isaiah Grant, isn’t going anywhere this cycle. Same with, I’m sorry to say it, your home state U.S. senator. Tessa Danforth’s approval rating is stuck in the teens.”
“Does that mean I can tell her campaign to stop calling me during dinner?” someone yelled from the back. Others on the bus laughed and agreed.
“Well, let’s see how tonight goes.” Kitty had them eating out of the palm of her hand. They liked feeling like insiders.
“So, who should we watch for?” Ted asked.
“Great question. I’d say watch for the governors of California and Kentucky—Ashby and Stone.
Cal has a lot of polish, but Ramsey Stone has been elected twice in a red state, proving it can be done.
He has a good track record, too,” Kitty explained.
“And governors have performed well for the Democratic party in the past.”
“What about the rocket guy?” Fred asked. As a scientist, he was part of a Facebook group that batted around his name.
“Ah, you mean Theo Maddox from Austin, Texas. My take on him is that he’s got a lot of money and some out-of-the-box ideas. But we’d have to see an amazing performance out of him tonight if he’s to advance.”
“What about the girl?” an older woman called out from one of the back seats. “The one from Georgia.”
“I’m glad you asked. She’s the one I’ll be watching. Her name is Lucia Lopez. She goes by Lucy. She’s a state senator from Atlanta. She’s a long shot, but I like her political talent. If she has a good debate, she just might break out of the pack.”
“I like her too. My granddaughters keep sending me texts with her videos. She’s a real spark plug.” This woman was now jointly holding court with Kitty.
“We’re five minutes out,” the bus driver called back to everyone.
“All right, this is it, folks. Have a great time and thank you again for coming today!” Kitty handed the mic back to Dot who gave everyone the plan for when they arrived.
Soon she could see the venue, and as they pulled up, Fletcher and Mary were there to greet them.
“Everything look okay?” she asked them when they got inside.
“We’re all set,” Fletcher said. “Now it’s up to them.” He nodded to the candidates.
The stage lights dimmed, the network music started, and the candidates were called to the stage.
Fletcher casually draped an arm around Dot. It was friendly . . . and possibly more than that. Dot noted the gesture, then set it aside and turned her attention to the debate.
“Here we go,” Dot said, gently hip checking Fletcher. She felt a rush well beyond booking a tech bro on cable. Maybe she’d finally found her calling.