Chapter 19 #2
Kira [10:12am]: It’s all kind of mixed up in her head right now
Kira [10:12am]: The way she feels about the campaign, the way she feels about you
Gabe [10:12am]: What does that mean?
Kira [10:13am]: You should talk to her about it
Gabe [10:13am]: I am desperate to talk to her about it. She won’t pick up her phone
Gabe [10:13am]: Should I drive down there? I can leave right now
Kira [10:14am]: No, that’s a bad idea
Kira [10:14am]: But I might have a better one
Kira [10:23am]: Okay. So you know it’s Simone’s birthday on Sunday?
Kira [10:25am]: I’m throwing her a little dinner at the Tabard Inn. It’ll be small, just the four of us
Gabe [10:25am]: I don’t want to ruin Simone’s birthday
Kira [10:25am]: So don’t ruin it
Kira [10:26am]: I know this has been brutal on all of us
Kira [10:26am]: But we’ll figure it out. And keep showing up for each other. Right?
Gabe [10:27am]: Always
Kira [10:27am]: Cool
Kira [10:27am]: I’ll see you Sunday
Kira [10:27am]: Oh, and dress up, k? Not like I need to tell you twice, but Simone will be pissed if you mess up the vibe
Gabe [10:28am]: Heard
Gabe [10:28am]: And thank you. Really
Kira [10:28am]: No sweat:)
Anya dug through her closet, looking for something to wear to Simone’s birthday dinner.
She didn’t want to dress up, she didn’t want to go out, and she definitely didn’t want to see Gabe.
She wanted to stay in the same sweats she’d been wearing for weeks, curl up under the weighted blanket her dad had sent after they lost South Carolina, and try really, really hard not to think about the fact that the man she loved was the same person who’d ended the best, most important work she’d ever done.
She didn’t want to blame him. She wanted to believe him that he hated those attack ads as much as she did, that he really and truly fought with everything he could to keep them off the air.
But then…why didn’t he quit? Why didn’t his principles matter more to him? Was it really because he thought Wheeler had the best shot of winning in November? Was there anything Gabe couldn’t justify if he let that logic rule his life?
The worst part was that Anya felt like it was her fault almost as much as his.
It had been her strategy to fight back against those negative ads, but all that did was draw more attention to them.
Then Nathan and Liddy dropped out of the race and consolidated their support behind Wheeler, and that was the end.
Jo’s candidacy was a pipe dream, and the voters were too afraid of losing to try to make that dream a reality.
Anya had been so certain that optimism could win out over fear, just as it had all those years ago in Ohio.
That doing the right thing, and working for the right candidate, would lead to the right result.
She had felt so confident, so hopeful, so sure.
Now she felt like an idiot for ever having believed it.
Anya was tired all the time, but she’d barely been able to sleep for the last month.
When she did, she dreamed about the cabin on Orcas, and the dogs, and the mountains.
She dreamed about Gabe, and she woke up crying.
She wanted to call her mom. She wanted Jo to be president.
She wanted anything in her life to make sense again.
Failing that, she wanted to get back under the weighted blanket.
But there was still nothing that Anya wouldn’t do for Simone.
So Anya showered and styled her hair, and now she needed a dress.
She ran her fingers over the black one she’d worn to Jeff Rooney’s house on the night Gabe first told her about Danny.
No, couldn’t wear that. Behind it was a draped cocktail dress made of heavy cornflower-blue silk that Anya had worn to Jill and Laurel’s wedding.
It might be too fancy for dinner, but that was okay.
Anya didn’t want to feel like she was at work.
She spent close to an hour doing her makeup; it took nearly half that time to sufficiently cover the purple bags beneath her eyes.
But once she put on some pearlescent eyeshadow and dewy blush, a couple of coats of mascara and some soft rosy lipstick, she looked almost like herself again.
Sad and hollowed, but at least herself. She zipped up the dress and pulled on her black leather jacket and some strappy silver heels, then called a car to the Tabard.
The Tabard Inn was Simone’s favorite place in DC, and it was one of Anya’s too—a quirky hotel and restaurant that felt like Alice in Wonderland by way of Colonial Williamsburg, lush ivy and spooky old oil portraits and tiny silver spoons.
When Anya walked into the wood-paneled lobby, she saw Gabe waiting by the host stand; he turned when he heard Anya’s heels on the wooden floor.
He was wearing his favorite suit, the black one that had a little sheen, over a dark shirt, and he was holding two bunches of flowers.
He looked like his heart was in his throat.
Anya felt like her stomach was full of lead.
“Hi,” he said softly. “You look amazing.”
“You too.” She stopped a couple of feet away from him, then nodded stiffly toward the flowers. “What are those?”
“For Simone.” He held up a big bunch of roses, then handed the other bunch to Anya—it was smaller, filled with wildflowers. “Black-eyed Susans. Your favorite, right?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. That was thoughtful. “What for?”
“For nothing.” He shrugged. “For love.”
Anya looked down at the flowers. “Thank you.”
She wished she could look up at him, or that she knew what to say to him. She wished the sight of him didn’t make her want to scream.
“For Kira Liu?” The host approached them, and they nodded. “Will you follow me, please?”
Gabe waited to walk behind Anya. When he put his hand on the small of her back, she went tense.
“Sorry.” He looked hurt as he drew his hand back, which made her feel both guilty and furious. What right did he have to act like she was the one who’d hurt him?
The host led them down the hotel’s main hallway, past the restaurant.
“You have a private area,” he explained. “It’s through here.”
He led them onto a small, brick-walled patio with a few outdoor heaters and a wooden table laid with candles. At the far side of the patio, Kira wore a cream-colored suit, and Simone was in a white sequined cocktail dress. They were standing under an archway of flowers, along with Jo Sessego.
Simone burst into a giant smile. Anya had never seen her look more beautiful.
“Thanks for coming to our wedding.”
“Oh my god!” Anya rushed over and threw herself into Simone’s arms. Next to them, Gabe and Kira hugged too. Anya and Kira hugged next, and Gabe handed Simone her flowers.
“This is perfect,” Simone said graciously. “I needed a bouquet.”
“Hi, Senator,” Anya said, turning to Jo. Jo held her arms wide and brought Anya in for a hug.
“Don’t worry, I won’t get too hammered. I know we’re wheels up at seven tomorrow morning.” Jo winked at Anya, then turned to Gabe. “How are you, Gabe? It’s good to see you.”
“You too, ma’am.” Gabe’s voice was tight. “You have no idea how good.”
Jo gave Gabe’s shoulder a squeeze, then he went to stand next to Kira as Anya took her place beside Simone.
“So,” Jo exhaled. “When you two asked me to do this—three days ago, by the way—I immediately picked up the phone to ask Anya to draft my remarks. Then I remembered that this was a surprise elopement, and also that it would be supremely uncool of me to perform a ceremony I hadn’t bothered to write myself.
So I considered what I should say about marriage, and about Kira and Simone.
The word I kept coming back to was devotion. ”
Anya looked up at Gabe—he was looking at her too. She knew how devoted he was to her. She wanted so badly for that to be enough.
“It goes without saying that you two are an extremely devoted couple,” Jo said.
“In my years working with you, I’ve seen this over and over.
The way you consider each other in every decision.
Your ability to show up for each other, always, no matter how horrible a day you might be having as individuals. ”
Had Gabe considered Anya when he decided to work for Wheeler? Had Anya shown up for Gabe a single time since South Carolina?
“But I think your devotion runs even deeper,” Jo went on.
“It’s the foundational quality of your love, and of your work.
How devoted you are to your friends, to the causes and candidates who are lucky enough to call you our champions.
To the strangers whose lives you seek to better, to whom you’ve devoted your own lives, as surely as you’ve devoted them to each other. ”
Anya’s heart was aching. With joy for her friends, but with so much sorrow too. She wished she could have done more for Jo. And for all the strangers they’d hoped to serve.
“Devotion is also, of course, the foundational quality of marriage,” Jo said with a smile.
“In the Gettysburg Address—yes, I’m a politician quoting the Gettysburg Address—President Lincoln referred to soldiers dying for their country as their last full measure of devotion.
Which might seem like a macabre reference for a celebration, until you remember that the whole purpose of a wedding is to make a promise kept until death.
Marriage is an extraordinary act of trust, and it’s an absolute feat of devotion.
Kira and Simone, my wonderful friends, if you don’t mind me being a little crass—I think you’re going to be fucking great at it. ”
They all laughed, and then Simone handed her bouquet to Anya so she could read her vows.
“Kira,” Simone said, her voice faltering just a little. “The moment I met you, the very first thing I thought was, Damn, this is about to be the hottest vacation sex I’ve ever had.”
Anya burst out laughing—everyone else did too.
“And I was right!” Simone grinned.
“Because you always are,” Kira said.