“Where?”
“Figure it out, dog-robber!”
He looked alarmed, but took off.
Marilyn looked over at him as he left, and then smiled at me. “Behave, Carl, he’s not a second lieutenant.”
“Honey, that is exactly what he is!” At that I followed the good doctor back to my room for a final checkup.
Unfortunately for the billing department, I proved healthy enough to be released and deny them the pleasure of another day’s charges. We were on our way towards the door by five or so. As we reached the lobby, Frank Stouffer came racing in, out of breath, and yelling, “Wait!” He had a suitcase in one hand, a hanging bag over his neck, a large plastic animal crate in the other hand, and stuffed under that was a bulging plastic bag with the name of a pet store on it. He was being followed by a protesting cab driver, demanding payment. “I caught you!”
“A good thing you did, too. It’d be right embarrassing to miss the flight.” I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet, but couldn’t handle opening it and paying the cabbie. I handed it to Marilyn and said, “Can you pay this guy?”
Marilyn snorted and smiled, and pulled a fifty out. “This cover it?”
The cab driver was suddenly all smiles, and he took the fifty and took off. The rest of us distributed the loot and Jerry McGuire, who had miraculously reappeared after the press conference, led us outside to a limo. From there we headed towards the airport, where the G-IV was waiting for us. We got on the plane and it was wheels up for Westminster.
My daughters had been wearing nice knee length dresses, which combined with some high heeled sandals, made them look older and more mature. I noticed that Frank had eyed them curiously. When he sat down in front of me, facing backwards, I told him, “Frank, you do realize that they aren’t even 16 yet, don’t you?” That wouldn’t happen until tomorrow. “Do I need to take you down to the range and show you what happens to a hollow point when it hits something?”
He laughed at that. “No sir, I’m good on that. They are pretty cute, though, you have to admit that. They’ll turn 18 sooner than you think.”
I waved that off. “So? Six months from now I’ll be the Vice President and have access to military weaponry. You have any idea what happens when a beehive round goes off? It’s awesome!”
“I’ll take your word for it, Congressman.”
“So, Frank, you work for Karl Rove? What’s your background?” I asked.
Frank explained that he was a graduate of Princeton with a degree in Political Science and had attended Yale Law. He was one of the young political class flocking to Washington, with no experience outside of Washington or the Ivy League. His job with Karl Rove was his first job. He was 25.
I nodded as he told me this. “Okay, first things first, you no longer work for Karl Rove. You work for me now. Is that understood?”
“How… am I on your Congressional staff?”
I shook my head. “When we land, get Brewster McRiley on the phone and I’ll handle it from there. You’ll technically be on the staff of McRiley Associates. You have a problem with that?”
“Uh, no sir, why would I?”
I eyed him curiously. Was he naïve or dumb? “Let me be very explicit. You do not talk to Karl Rove from here on in without clearing it with me first. I am guessing you got orders from him to give him a daily report on what I was up to?” Frank turned beet red at that. He’d be a lousy poker player. “I’ll take your silence as a yes. No more. You work for me, not Karl. Is that understood, or do we need to part ways?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir, which?” I pushed.
“Yes, sir, I understand. What’s the problem with Mister Rove?”
“No problem, but Karl Rove doesn’t work for me and doesn’t have my best interests at heart. I pay Brewster, and as long as my checks clear, he stays loyal to me. Karl Rove ain’t loyal to me. You following this?”
“I follow you sir. Uh, how do I contact Mister McRiley?”
“Figure it out, Frank!”
Marilyn had been listening to us, and she reached across the aisle and swatted at me. “Will you behave!?” She turned to Frank and said, “Get a pen and pad and I’ll give you a few numbers.” He scrambled and pulled a pen and notepad out, and Marilyn read off some numbers from her cell phone. She gave him Brewster’s, but also Marty’s and mine, and the numbers for my offices in D.C., and the ones for the campaign and the local Westminster office for the Maryland Ninth, and several others.
I chuckled at all this, and then said, “Now, when we land, I want you to get yourself a room over in Parkton, and rent a car. We’ll get somebody to give you a lift over. Make sure you keep receipts for everything. Always have at least a grand in cash in your wallet, mostly twenties and fifties. You’d be amazed how much easier things work when you deal in cash. You can take tomorrow off, since it’s Sunday, but be at our house early Monday morning. I might be on sick leave, but I still need to work.”
Frank kept jotting down notes. The next few months would either break him or make him. We’d have to see which.
Marilyn asked me, “You really have to work this week? You need to rest. Doctor Shooster said you needed to rest.”
“It will be a working vacation. You need to finish whatever they have you doing with the convention speech, and I have to write one of my own. I started one, but just don’t like it,” I told her.
Frank popped up at that. He shuffled through a briefcase and handed me a manila envelope. “Here’s your speech, Congressman. Mister Rove gave this to me to give to you.”
I eyed the envelope curiously. Up until now, all of my speeches I had written myself, although I had frequently gotten some input and editing assistance from my staff. Now I was going to give a speech written by somebody else. “Who wrote it?”
“Mister Scully.” I gave him a blank look. I knew Mike Gerson was the chief writer for Bush, but wasn’t aware of the second tier yet. “Matthew Scully, he works for Mister Gerson.”
“Well, give it here, let me read it.”
I took the envelope and opened it to read it. The best speechwriters would write for the speaker’s voice, using his tone and his style and his substance. The worst would simply slap some shit together. This was about in the middle. It wasn’t just slapped together, but it was obviously written for somebody else. It was also rather generic. I was going to have to write my own speech and incorporate what I could of this one. I needed to give the speech of a lifetime; this one wasn’t that. It was okay, but I wanted more.
I started reading, but drifted off and slept most of the trip back to Westminster. We had some limos and vans waiting for us when we landed. As we walked off the plane, Marilyn said, “You need to rest. You look pale.”
“If you are going to play nurse, shouldn’t you get one of those little nurse’s costumes?”
“OH, THAT’S SO GROSS!” yelled Molly.
“THAT’S… I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!” screamed her sister. “LA… LA… LA…” she sang out loudly.
Marilyn and I looked at each other and grinned. Neither of us had known they were within earshot.
My entire traveling circus went over to the house, and then I sent most of them off to either find some motel rooms nearby or simply to go home and rest. I was still tired, and needed to rest for a bit. I told Marilyn I wanted to sit in my chair for a bit, but she pushed me down the hall into the bedroom. I did give the girls a few orders, but simply to get the puppy situated and sorted out, and to unpack and relax. They needed some down time as much as I did.