Jack and Jackie: The 1960 Campaign

Prologue

Jackie had never felt so humiliated.

She slowly washed off the makeup off her face with the towel her assistant had given her. She had unzipped her dress long ago and now she was staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes wore dark bags under them from the lack of sleep and she was exhausted. She sighed and finished wiping the makeup off.

Jackie was exhausted. She knew she had one of those galas tonight, but just how hard the Kennedys were on her made her feel lonely and tired. Her mother had ditched her long ago, scoffing at  her idea to become a woman in politics. "A woman's place is in the house, Jacqueline," she had scolded.

Jackie hated it. She also hated how her mother had tried coming back into her life. Jackie had severed all ties with her, in fear that she might loose the election. And Jackie knew John Kennedy liked to play dirty. He didn't insult her directly, but she knew she could sense either disapproval or something else.

Now she was utterly crushed.

The last debate had happened tonight, and Jackie felt terrible. She'd done a bad job, she knew that. Just a few weeks prior, she tripped and broke her ankle going down the stairs. She'd wrapped herself and walked on, even though the pain was too much. She could remember the sweat rolling down her face as the judge asked her the questions, while Jack Kennedy gazed at her from the corner of her eyes.

As much as she hoped she would crush him in the following days, Jackie knew her time was up. JFK, as everyone called him, was pulling up ahead. He'd won Texas and California, and now all Jackie probably had was Florida and a handful of Republican states.

She wasn't afraid of losing to a man. She was just afraid of what the future held. Whether or not she lost or won.

•

Jackie woke to the sound of thunder. She looked up as her advisor stood there, clutching the papers. "Yes?" Jackie asked. "Did we win?"

The advisor looked nervous. "Ms. Bouvier..."

Jackie felt her heart sink.

"I'm sorry, Miss. We didn't make it..." the man cut off.

Jackie turned around. Her breath was shaky. "Leave me to my thoughts," she said.

The door closed behind her. Now Jackie was worried sick. She had lost the battle, and who knew what the future held for her?

Swallowing hard, she forced the bile down her throat. She wondered what Jack Kennedy would end up doing to her.