“Yeah,” he said. “I’m just ready for this to be over.” I sat up and pulled the covers off, and he looked at me. “You don’t have to get up. Stay here and sleep. Just be ready to go around five.”
That was the time we’d have to leave for the election party at the Dillons’, and I was surprised that he still wanted me to go, but I just nodded and said, “Sure.”
—
I spent most of the day in the hotel room, imagining what Matt and Jimmy were saying to each other, if they were saying anything at all. What was Ash doing? She hadn’t called to yell at me, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know. I left once to get a salad, but found it impossible to eat and only managed to choke down a couple of bites of lettuce before abandoning it. My stomach twisted and I thought I might get sick.
By the time Matt came back to get me, I’d been dressed and ready to go for almost three hours. He didn’t bother to come up to the room, just texted that he was downstairs. As I walked out the door, I tried to think if I’d ever dreaded anything as much as I was dreading this party and decided that the answer was definitely no. I would’ve given anything to stay at the hotel, even if it meant I’d have only my paranoid thoughts to keep me company. I didn’t know why Matt even wanted me to go — maybe he thought it would look bad if I didn’t, maybe he wanted me to feel uncomfortable and embarrassed, to pay for what I’d done.
When I got in the car, Matt was typing on his BlackBerry and didn’t say anything for a minute. Then he put it down and said, “Ready to go?” and pulled away before I answered. On the way, I asked him about the day, and he answered me in a tone that was both polite and removed, like I was a reporter that he didn’t particularly care for, but knew he couldn’t ignore. I hesitated, and then asked him if Jimmy told Ash what had happened — I didn’t want to, but I felt like I had to know before we got to the party so I could be prepared.
“I don’t know,” he said, evenly.
“You didn’t ask?” I said.
“We didn’t talk about it,” Matt said. It seemed unbelievable to me that they’d spent the whole day together and never once acknowledged what had happened, but Matt’s jaw was firm and his answer didn’t leave any room for further discussion, so I dropped it.
As we pulled into the driveway, I said, “Matt, I’m so sorry.”
He turned off the ignition and let out a long sigh. “I know,” he said.
—
The actual party wasn’t quite as bad as I’d feared, mostly because by the time we arrived, there were already about twenty people there, which made it crowded enough so I felt like I could sort of blend in. When we walked inside, Jimmy was in the corner by the fireplace, talking to one of his father’s friends who had donated quite a bit to the campaign. “I should go check in,” Matt said, before walking away and leaving me alone by the door.
One of the caterers came up to me with a tray of white wine, and I took a glass, just to have something to do with my hands. Through the doorway, I saw Ash in the other room, standing alone and looking at her phone. I’d already decided that I was going to say something to her right away, to apologize. To wait any longer would just make it worse.
She smiled as I walked over, and before I could change my mind, I said, “Ash, I just wanted to explain about last night.”
She waved her hand in the air, like the whole thing was a silly misunderstanding. “Oh, you don’t have to,” she said. “Jimmy already did and it’s fine.” She lowered her voice. “I guess we can’t be too surprised they had a fight before this was all done, right? It was coming for a while, I guess. But still…it all seems so childish.”
“I know,” I said, unsure of how to continue. Was it possible that Jimmy had only told her that he and Matt had fought and left out the reason behind it? I had assumed that he’d tell her something, even if it was just a watered-down version of events. But now I wasn’t sure she knew any of it.
“I think we’re all a little loony after this, don’t you?” she said.
“Yeah,” I said. “But still, I’m sorry for what happened.”
I could’ve been referring to the fight between Matt and Jimmy, could’ve been apologizing for Matt’s behavior, if that’s all she knew about. But something told me it wasn’t, because she smiled then and it looked a little tight as she said, “Really. It’s fine.”
—
It’s funny how unimportant election night actually felt. This was what we’d been working toward all those months, it was why we’d driven all over Texas and gone into the homes of strangers, attended church picnics and potlucks. But that night, there was no more adrenaline, no more excitement. We just waited for an answer we already knew was coming. In some ways it felt like the most insignificant part of the whole campaign.
The call came pretty early, around 8:00 p.m. The television was on in one of the rooms, the sound turned low, but we all noticed when they called the race. It didn’t feel especially sad — it was more exhaustion and relief, like the whole room exhaled at once. I’d spent most of the night standing next to Matt while he talked to different guests, not really participating in any of the conversations, just observing. When they called the race, I put a hand on his back, but he didn’t give any indication that he felt it.
Jimmy gave a short speech to thank everyone — his supporters, his parents, and finally Ash and Viv. “I know this wasn’t easy for you, and I appreciate all of the sacrifices you made. You two are the best.” He looked over at Ash, sounding absolutely sincere as he said, “I’m a lucky guy.”
After Jimmy spoke, people started leaving pretty quickly. I was scared we’d be left alone with just the Dillon family, something I didn’t think I’d be able to handle, and I was relieved when Matt started saying good-bye to people so we could make our exit.
Before we left, I thanked Mrs. Dillon and said good-bye. She gave me an air kiss and then held one of my hands in hers and said, “Do you know how much you’ll be missed around here?”
I refrained from saying, “Not one fucking tiny bit,” and instead just smiled and squeezed her hand.
—
Once we were in the car, Matt drove a couple of blocks without talking. The feeling between us was so strange — not anger or avoidance, more like he was too preoccupied to notice I was there.
“I can’t believe it’s over,” I said, just to fill the silence.
“I know,” Matt said.
“Do you think you still want to leave Friday?” I asked. This had been our tentative plan, but we’d left things up in the air. Now I figured we both wanted to get out of Texas as quickly as possible.
“Beth,” Matt said. He cleared his throat and didn’t take his eyes off the road. “I think you should go home tomorrow.”
“You want to leave tomorrow?”
“No, I think you should go home. I looked online and put a flight on hold for you for tomorrow night.” Matt sounded so calm as he spoke that it took me a second to understand what he was saying. “I don’t think we should drive home together,” he continued. “You go and I’ll take the car. I want to take some time.”
“Some time away from me?” I asked. My voice sounded panicked, and I felt blindsided although I probably shouldn’t have. What did I think? That we’d forget what had happened and have a nice drive home together?
“Some time,” he said. “A week or two. Maybe more.”
“When will you come home? Will you let me know?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not trying to be mean. I’m really not.” He almost looked like he felt sorry for me. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Can I text you?” I asked, and he shook his head. I swallowed hard. “Are you sure about this? You don’t want to talk about it?”