Abigail
16 October 2016
Wednesday: Las Vegas debate day
We're not married Abigail, you're not my partner yet.
The words kept repeating themselves like a bad reel in my head. Each time I replay the scene my stomach turns and the hollow void in me threatens to swallow me inside out. The annoying part was that, the proceeding thought whenever I remembered was to call her and ask her why? What kind of idiot wants to know why someone doesn't want to be their partner?
We're not married Abigail, you're not my partner yet.
Am I crazy? Was I asking for too much too soon?
Liz said she loves me, right? Or did I imagine that? Did she only say that to make me happy? Did I force her into a relationship because of my overly grand gesture of a massage lavender scented candles?
I mean, I don't think I did? Did I? I'm sure I didn't.
"Ms.Mitchell, Ms.Mitchell." I can hear Charlotte call from the outside of my mind. The world slowly returns to view and I remember that I'm here to play happy family for the photo ops after the debate.
"Abigail, dear." I hear my mother's voice through the din of the studio as she gently grabs my elbow to direct me to the center of the room. So after just walk up and give him a big congratulations, like a hug or something. I remember Andy telling me before.
I thought she'd call, or come back. I mean, I'm the one that's hurt here, I'm the one that should be affronted. God, I'm an idiot. You're an idiot Abigail Mitchell!
In lieu of my enthusiastic participation in the post-debate performance, the garden-hardened planes of my mother's hands pull me towards my father. Dragging me to where I should be has been her working formula for the past two days. I've always liked the sturdy texture of her hands. They felt like soft cushion leather after a really long day. And right now, it was the only thing keeping me grounded for our finale showcase. Good thing, I could play Happy Family in my sleep.
This , unlike Liz, was easy. Okay now smile, look at camera one, the shout came from the left, smile there. Oh we're laughing now, give a pretty chuckle, lean your head forward, touch dad's arm, and end of laugh. Perfect. Ah! Moms pulling at me again, must be time to walk. Wave to the lesbian fans. Security walks forward. Randall opens the door, mom lets go of my hand and...silence.
"Aaaah yes," Andy grunts in elation as he scoots into the seat next to me. "Well, that went stupendously. Will you were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. Crushed it! Woo, I tell you man." He points at him. "Yes!"
"Wonderful dear." My mother beams along with my father's chuckles. It's the sound of a man who knows he cannot fail at anything and has just won a decade long war with the swipe of one sword. I'm sure it feels good. He's really worked hard for this.
"Ahh that was brilliant, did you see the look on his face when we brought out equality rights and abortion. Oh, I. Had. Them. You know, I could feel the juices just rushing to my balls I tell you."
"William!" My mother gasps.
"Sorry honey, it's just...I had 'em"
"You had 'em" Andy points at him.
"I. Had. Them! Goddammit Andy, you are one hell of a scriptwriter. Just as we practiced."
My mother rolls her eyes, and turns to me: "Aren't you gonna congratulate your father, dear?"
"Hmm? I, sorry. Congratulations dad. You certainly got my vote tonight."
And he did. I could honestly say, without bias, that my dad was the best candidate for office. He had solid policies, and the guts to carry them through. A clean record and me as his only blemish (which in actuality was winning him points with liberals and democrats), William Mitchell was very presidential.
