“There’s a potential for a vote in the Technology and Innovation Subcommittee,” he told me.
“So, last week you were selling my soul to the clean coal lobby. Yesterday you tried to sell me to the oil and gas drillers. Today you wanted me to sell out to the ethanol refiners. What happens when these guys figure out that I can’t possibly vote for each and every one of them? Think that might be a problem, Chuck?”
“Well, you obviously can’t make any promises, other than to consider their positions carefully.”
I looked over at Mindy. “You know the definition of an honest politician? One who stays bought. Mindy, I need to talk to Chuck. Can you excuse us? Thank you.”
Mindy stood up and left my office, closing the door behind her. Chuck watched her leave and then turned back to me. “Chuck, are you happy here? Working for me, I mean.”
He looked very confused at this. “Yes, why?”
“Because right now the feeling is not mutual. I want you to listen to me very carefully. From now on, you make no appointments for me without discussing them with me first and getting my permission. Any appointments get written in the calendar. You do not keep running around selling my vote to anybody and everybody. Are you getting the gist of the discussion, or do I need to be more explicit?” I said this in as calm and even a tone of voice as I could muster.
“Congressman, I don’t understand what the problem is. These are all individuals with legitimate reasons to meet with you.”
“Maybe they are and maybe they aren’t, but that’s my ruling on this. It ends today, now. Is this clearly understood, or do I need to go find myself a new chief of staff who understands these requirements?”
Chuck’s eyes snapped wide at this. “Congressman!”
“Do you understand me or not?” I pressed.
“Congressman Buckman! I don’t understand the hostility of the discussion.”
“Mister Hanson, for the last time, will you abide by these rules, yes or no? I need a response.”
“Yes, sir, of course!”
“Now, who were you selling me to this afternoon, and why do I want to see them?” We talked about another fifteen minutes, and Chuck was fairly flustered the entire time. I could see him flipping through appointment slips that he was now going to have to cancel. Afterwards I brought in Sherry Longbottom to discuss upcoming legislation, and then Babs Brosinski, my Constituent Services Director, to discuss any problems back in the district. Babs, despite a name that suggested a ditzy blonde, was a tough-as-nails battleaxe brunette. I had brought Cheryl down for a day, and she had taken to Babs quickly, and they looked to be a good team for handling problems back in the Ninth.
Mid-afternoon, I got a phone call from Marty, who complained that I was an individual of low moral character, who was prone to lead innocent victims to a life of ruin. He didn’t sound all that good, but he had been socking it away even more than I had. I chided him by saying I learned many of my dissolute habits from him, and then reminded him to call me next week and confirm his visit to the house.
That evening I went over to National and Tyrell flew me back to Westminster. I made it in the house before Dum-Dum figured out I was home, but she was so neurotically insistent on playing with me, I sat down in my chair and let her lick my face while I rubbed her belly. Marilyn came over to kiss me hello, and Dum-Dum decided to lick her face as well. “AAAAGGGHHH! Dog kisses!” Marilyn complained, sounding like Lucy Van Pelt.
I glanced around to make sure the kids were out of earshot. “I don’t think it’s the kisses so much as the tongue that bothers you.”
“AAACCCKKK! That’s so gross!”
I rubbed Dum-Dum’s belly, and scooted her away. “French kissing a dog! That’s a new low, even for you!”
“Keep it up, wise guy!” This time I gave her a real kiss, which calmed Marilyn down. Then the girls jumped into my lap, while Charlie smirked and rolled his eyes. He was now at a very old and wise point of life, nine going on ninety. The odds of his survival to ten were low, and dropping by the day.
Dinner was some leftover beef stew from the beginning of the week, and some fresh baked rolls. The stew was sort of blah (Marilyn can’t cook) but the rolls were quite nice. After dinner we sent the kids packing and I told Marilyn about the next weekend. “I’ve got an old buddy coming next weekend. We don’t have anything planned, right?”
“You’re supposed to ask that first, and then make your plans,” I was told.
“Okay, do you have anything planned for next weekend?”
“Well, no.”
“So can I have a friend over for a sleepover, Mom?!”
“You can be eliminated, you know! You sound like Charlie and his buddies. What if the kids invite somebody?” asked my wife.
“Then they can have a slumber party in their room. It’s what they do, anyway.”
Marilyn had to nod in agreement at that. “That’s true enough. Who is it?”
“You’ll never believe who I ran into the other day. Remember Marty Adrianopolis from Kegs?” I asked.
Marilyn looked suitably blank. “One of your old frat brothers? The name’s not ringing any bells.”
“Big guy, a couple of years ahead of me. He was my frat big brother.” Marilyn still looked blank. “He was bartending with me the night we met. We used to bartend a lot.”
That made her eyes light up. “Oh, yeah! Big guy, always flirting with me. Didn’t we invite him to the wedding or something?”
I nodded. “Yeah, but he didn’t make it. I don’t remember if we even heard from him, but he was out of school two years by then. Have to ask him.”
“Okay, I remember him now. What’s he up to?” Marilyn stood to clean the table.
I stood as well, and we carried the dishes into the kitchen. I ended up leaning back against the island while she rinsed and washed the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. Me, I would have just stuck them in the dishwasher, but no that wouldn’t have been doing it right. “He’s a lobbyist, of all things. He sold his soul to Satan.”
“When he comes, I’ll tell him you said that.”
“Yeah? Maybe I’ll tell you what he said about you!”
“What!? He remembered me?”
“Not specifically. He just remembered the little brunette with the big tits I was banging…”
“HE DID NOT!”
I gave my wife a pious and innocent look. “Oh, yeah, he remembered because of all the noise you used to make. He told me they could hear you all the way over in Grogan’s…”
“BULLSHIT!” she squawked, loud enough to attract the attention of the kids.
All three came in. “Mom?!” asked Charlie. I knew he couldn’t quite believe his ears. Marilyn never swore in front of the kids.
I tried to keep a straight face, but wasn’t succeeding very well. She looked daggers at me, and I was biting my lip. “Out!” she told them.
Charlie snickered and headed towards the living room.
Holly looked at her mother and said, “Mommy! You always tell us that if we say bad words, you’re going to wash our mouths out with soap!”
Molly chimed in at that. “Do we need to wash your mouth out, Mommy?”
I was barely holding it together at this point. Marilyn glared at all of us, and pointed towards the living room. “OUT! ALL OF YOU! OUT!” The girls giggled and scampered away, followed closely by me. I was followed by a wet dishcloth. “YOU THINK YOU’RE SO FUNNY!”
“What’d you say to Mom, Dad?” asked Charlie, once we were all out of the kitchen.
“None of your business. Feel free to ask her, though. She’ll drop you in the pool and pull you out in the summer. It’s your life, though.”
Just then a loud clatter came from the kitchen. Charlie grinned and said, “I don’t think so!”