Sofia had popped up, too, and had imposed herself in front of Cass, taking him by both of his shoulders.
“Don’t be juvenile,” she said to them.
They stared at each other, in animal posture, nostrils flaring and breathing hard, just one more second. Sofia pressed Cass back down to his chair.
“Paulie,” she said, “we can’t give in to Hal Kronon. You’ve promised Ray, and everyone who works for you, that we won’t.”
He was exhausted. A campaign was vitalizing when you were winning, but at low times, it felt like you were undergoing a form of ritual sacrifice.
“We’re going to lose anyway.”
“The hell,” his brother answered.
“I told you. The Trib is going to publish a poll on Sunday where we’re running third now.”
“I told you that,” Cass said, “and it’s thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight. We could still be first given the margin of error. Their story is going to say tie.”
“We were twenty points ahead two months ago. And inside the campaign people understand trends. The troops were restless anyway, now that you fired Crully,” Paul said.
Cass looked stricken. “You agreed Mark was a pain in the ass.”
“I’m not blaming you. I said that the wrong way. I think it was the right move on balance.” They had resolved long ago that they would never second-guess one another on decisions that had to be made in the moment. And they’d talked a dozen times about what to do if Du Bois gave Hal the DNA. They had agreed that it would be best to dismiss the lawsuit, which made it inevitable Crully would quit. It was better for Mark, anyway. In another week or two, he’d have been looking for a way to jump off the sinking ship, blaming Paul for the hole in the hull. Mark was not the kind to hang around and keep bailing. He’d already been hired by Hillary to take over in Pennsylvania, where he was from. “I’m not blaming you. I’m just saying the direction is obvious. Hal’s going to keep hammering us. He may never have anything more than Georgia, but she’ll be a household name with the media buy he’s made for that ad.”
Peering at Georgia Lazopoulos every time he turned on a TV filled Paul with clotted emotions, mostly horror and guilt. The brute fact that clobbered him was that she would have been someone else if he’d made a different choice. Sofia had added to his life as much as he’d subtracted from Georgia’s, if not more. But romance wasn’t ordinarily a zero-sum game.
“Cass, it looks bad. That’s all I’m saying. So why hang in and worry about the test?”
“Dropping out won’t stop Hal. It’ll motivate him, in fact. Hal would do the DNA even if you announced tomorrow that you were leaving the US and becoming a citizen of Belarus. And besides, now that Camaner has taken over, he’ll get his arms around the campaign, and we’ll win, once the focus is back on the actual issues.”
“We’re running out of cash, Cass. The crowds are thinner at every event, especially the fund-raisers. You’re seeing the same thing. And we agreed when we started that we’re not running this campaign on debt.”
“I don’t think we make this decision now. Camaner has to get a chance. A campaign is a rodeo ride. We both know that.”
Paul nodded. He was ready to sleep. He stood up and hugged his brother. “Hron-yah poh-lah,” he said in Greek as he held him. ‘Many happy years.’ This was still one of the greatest feelings he knew, hugging Cass, lingering with the solid fact of his presence.
Sofia and he went to the garage, where her Lexus was parked.
“You’re trashed,” she said. She took the car key out of his hand.
“No,” he answered.
“You’re trashed,” Sofia repeated. When they came up to the street, there was a sleety rain falling and the asphalt reflected the lights, making it feel as if it were Christmas again.
“You know the basic problem, don’t you?” Paul asked. “He likes being me more than he likes being himself.”
“God, Paul. That’s a hell of a thing to say.”
“I should never have agreed to this. The fact that he can pass himself off as me doesn’t mean he has the right to do it. I should have drawn a line. It was crazy.”
“Are you forgetting the last twenty-five years?”
“Hardly. That’s why I said yes. It was a horrible, hard time and we hung in together, no blaming or recriminations, and I couldn’t imagine ending that period with all-out war. But truth? I was shocked that he didn’t want to go back to his own life.”
“That’s naïve, isn’t it? You’re one of the most important men in this county. This state. Cass Gianis is an ex-con. And a convicted murderer.”
“But you know, as adults, when the world went to hell, he’d become so determined to be himself. He was proud of all the differences between us. He was funnier and more spontaneous than I was, less disciplined. That was the whole thing with Dita. Even if it was stupid, he insisted on making the kind of decisions I never would have. I’d always taken it for granted that come January 31, 2008, he’d be in a heat to get on with his life, have kids, all of that.”
“You liked this idea, Paul. When we first discussed it.”
“Because I thought it meant time off. Instead, Cass has added events to the schedule and we’re both working like we’re in chains.”
“It’s been incredibly convenient at times. You can’t deny that. He loves the fund-raisers, squeezing dollars out of every handshake. And you can’t stand them any more.”
“I can’t stand any of it,” he said. “I can’t. If we lose, this is the end.”
“Wanna bet?” When she sneaked a glance his way, she was smiling.
“You haven’t heard me say this before. Hal has changed my perspective. Politics won’t be the same. I’m not the first. This is just a grander version of what they did to John Kerry with the Swift Boat thing. So now the rich nuts call you a murderer. But what I believed in, building coalitions and organizations, is out the window. It’ll all be about how fast you peddle your ass to some billionaire, so you can counteract the guy on the other side who’s done the same thing. A pox on all of it. Honestly, when I think of the future, I’m more excited about the idea of working with Cass on that charter school for ex-cons-something simple and within our control, where I can be sure I’m actually leaving the campsite a little cleaner than I found it.”
“Paulie, we just need to get through the election. That was what we all agreed to start. You’ll be less exhausted and you two can figure it out.”
“What is there to figure out? Something has to give, baby. You got two guys and one life. I love Cass, but I can’t put up with this a lot longer. My mother always worried about the brothers in the bible, Jacob and Esau, and Cain and Abel. Cain is always the bad guy, but I’m beginning to feel for him, with his brother moving in on him.”
“What do you mean moving in on you?” Sofia asked. The light from the streets was on her eyes when they shifted briefly in her husband’s direction.
“You know what I mean,” he answered quietly. There was so much he had failed to anticipate by living one day at a time until Cass’s sentence was over. He never had to weigh his relationship with his brother against his marriage. Now the geometries seemed confusing to them all. In the month before they rented the apartment, Paul had returned home frequently from late-night events to find his brother and his wife together, padding around the house in their socks, still lingering over a meal, or side-by-side watching TV or a movie. Their familiarity with each other, and especially the physical aspect of it, which he had somehow never imagined, had been disquieting. The speed with which Sofia placed her hands on Cass to restrain him tonight, and even the way his brother received it, had troubled him again. Why hadn’t he realized what would confront him?
He was too tired for all of this. His mind was spinning down to dark places. It was past midnight and he’d be up at 5:30.