Chapter 10: End of the Party

Madge stormed away from the patio, leaving Katniss, Gale, and Peeta in her wake. She heard Peeta follow her seconds after she passed him, and thought it was probably a good idea. Katniss and Gale clearly needed to talk before they hurt anyone else in their crossfire. Like her. But that didn't mean Madge was going to let them talk in private. She marched straight to the old servants' stairs in the back of the house.

Trailing after her, Peeta started fretting immediately. "Do you think she actually likes him?"

"I don't know," Madge said tersely, not slowing her pace.

"I hadn't gotten a chance to talk to her yet. There were always too many people around. But I was warming up to it. She was laughing at some of my jokes—hey. Madge. Where are we going?"

She pushed the door open to one of the guest bedrooms on the second floor. The room was empty and she left the light off, heading straight for the window and pushing the heavy velvet curtain aside. The patio where Gale and Katniss were standing was directly underneath and Madge could see them standing a good distance apart from one another. They weren't talking, but all was clearly not well.

"You want to eavesdrop?" Peeta asked. "No. We can't."

"They dragged me into this, I have a right to know what they're saying about me. They might be talking about you, too."

Peeta hesitated, and Madge could see him momentarily considering the option. But it was a short moment because he quickly recovered and said firmly, "No."

Madge turned away from him and moved to unlatch the window. Sometimes snooping was necessary. Too often in her house it was the only way to find out the truth.

Peeta's hand shot out to block the latch. "Madge." He was using his let's-all-be-responsible-and-reasonable tone. "Can't you guess what they're saying?"

"Why guess when I can know?"

"Because Katniss is your friend. Are you going to tell her you listened in on her private, personal conversation? How's that going to go?"

Madge paused. She couldn't actually picture that. Madge knew almost everything about Katniss since they were roommates, but that couldn't be helped. Maybe this was different from Madge's parents not telling her anything because they were too busy or thought she wouldn't understand or would get upset. Madge didn't think Katniss kept anything from her, but Madge supposed it was possible. Katniss dealing with boy problems was uncharted territory.

Peering out the window, she could see that whatever was happening between Katniss and Gale, neither seemed happy. Gale looked like the entire world had wronged him and Katniss reminded Madge of a frightened animal on the brink of bolting. Had he told her he liked her? He'd brought those roses to their dorm room... Even imagining Gale confessing his feelings made Madge feel uneasy on Katniss's behalf—it would surely be an unwelcome admission and how awkward would that be? It also slowly occurred to her that eavesdropping would be unfair to Gale. Wasn't it bad enough that he was probably going to be rejected, without having an audience?

She stepped away from the window.

"I'm mad, though," she told Peeta, voice still insistent with frustration. "Katniss was acting like I'd done something wrong."

"I thought she seemed pissed at Gale, not you. She was looking out for you."

Madge wasn't sure she agreed with that. Katniss was protective, yes, absolutely, but to Madge it had seemed like Katniss was, probably not even consciously, using her concern for Madge as a cover for her jealousy and suspicion-laced reaction to seeing Gale with Madge. The fact that Madge was confident Katniss would never go out of her way to hurt her did dampen her anger a bit, but only a little. She still felt like collateral damage in someone else's war.

"She lumped me into her... issues with him," Madge said huffily.

Peeta's eyes drifted to the window, but he was standing too far away to see the patio below and returned his focus to Madge. "Do you think she really is jealous?" he asked with a frown. "I mean, it did kind of look like he was flirting with you."

"He wasn't," Madge snapped, irritated both at Peeta's skeptical expression and how he was so dismissive of Madge's frustration with Katniss.

"She's never seemed jealous of me, though," Peeta continued in a troubled tone. Then with a hopeful expression he added, "unless she has...?"

Madge shook her head. Peeta was Madge's friend originally so Katniss hadn't had any reason to be jealous of the time he spent with Madge. Katniss had just become more noticeably interested whenever Madge mentioned that she'd been hanging out with Peeta, or if Peeta was meeting them in the dining hall or joining them for TV night or a party.

Looking out the window again, Madge saw that Gale was alone, sitting in one of the lawn chairs with his head in his hands. He was as still as the stone lions keeping watch over the back yard at the edge of the patio.

"Katniss isn't there anymore," she reported quietly. "Just Gale."

Apparently deeming it acceptable to look now, Peeta joined Madge at the window. She didn't need to translate Gale's dejected body language for him. Gale looked smaller, somehow, and Madge was hit with a wave of relief that she hadn't actually listened in on their conversation. She felt guilty to even be witnessing this much of Gale's discomfort and stepped away from the window, firmly tugging the curtain back into its original position.

Unsurprisingly, Peeta's thoughts were with Katniss. "Do you think she left the party?"

"I'm sure she wants to," Madge said, thinking through Katniss's most likely next move. "But Gale was her ride home... She could ask her mom to leave early, but her mom would probably ask why." Which Katniss would not be keen to explain. Madge figured Katniss was also aware of how much her mother enjoyed her annual opportunity to visit with Madge's mother and Maysilee, and would probably be reluctant to disrupt their reunion. "I'd guess," Madge said, "that she's holed up in one of the empty rooms downstairs." Katniss was probably weighing her options: Stay in hiding to give her mother more time to gossip? Claim sickness as a reason to leave the party early? Recruit Prim for assistance? Under other circumstances, Madge would already be searching out her friend and trying to help her. But Madge couldn't leave the party to give Katniss a ride home, and more than that, she still felt like Katniss's suspicious glare at her had been like a slap, a sudden, shocking reactionary judgment. She wasn't sure she felt forgiving enough just yet to hold back on sharing her true thoughts with her friend. Something like, "Thanks for being suspicious and taking out your confusion on me" was dangerously close to the tip of Madge's tongue.

Peeta must have also been considering Katniss's options because he announced, "I'll give her a ride home."

"You can't make your move now," Madge admonished. "She's confused—"

"Madge." Peeta seemed offended. "I know that. If I can find her, I'll just give her a ride." He patted the pockets of his suit to locate his keys. "She needs a friend tonight and that's all I'll be: her no-talking-necessary taxi driver."

Even though he hadn't meant it as a dig, it hurt to hear Peeta say that Katniss needed a friend, because the implication was that Madge—who was Katniss's friend more so than Peeta—couldn't be the friend that Katniss needed tonight. Following Peeta back into the hallway, Madge also felt unsettled because as well as she felt like she knew Katniss, she couldn't predict Katniss's reaction to this situation, beyond trying to get away from it. Would Katniss even know that Madge was upset with her? They'd never fought as roommates—Katniss was barely around and didn't care about the state of the room as long as Madge's messes didn't infringe on her space. They hadn't fought before college either, at least in part due to having gone to different high schools. No boys had ever come between them; they barely talked about boys. Katniss never seemed to have any crushes, and Madge hadn't had any serious boyfriends worth talking about until Greg (who she still wasn't sure should count as serious... seriously awful, maybe). Madge had always made an effort to keep her comments about Peeta as neutral as possible, or, if she couldn't resist, just barely hinting at her awareness of Katniss having a possible crush; she hadn't wanted to scare Katniss away from him or make her feel self-conscious.

Madge walked with Peeta to the top of the stairs, eyeing the party below in the foyer with a heavy feeling in her chest. She really didn't want to have to go back. The band had shifted to dancing music, and an upbeat, modernized Christmas song filled the house, a complete mismatch with Madge's mood. A few dozen guests were dancing boisterously, though most were visiting and networking just below the grand stairway, forming a loud, alcohol-fueled sea of people.

As Peeta started down the stairs, Madge called out to him, "Check the conference room. She likes the big fish tank by the door." Katniss had said once that she found the brightly colored fish soothing; they reminded her of an aquarium her father had taken her to when she was younger.

"Got it," he said with a grateful smile, turning and jogging down the remaining stairs.

Seeing how preoccupied Peeta was with Katniss's well-being made Madge feel lonely in the familiar way that being in her house often left her. Her time at school had been a break from that particular type of isolation, and Greg, jerk that he turned out to be, had been part of that break, though that had backfired horribly. Madge was tempted to retreat to her bedroom for the rest of the party, but she knew she'd never get away with it. She needed to talk to her high school classmates, keep an eye on her mother, and generally be visible as a supportive daughter. Gale's suggestion that she break the puppet strings her parents had attached to her was all well and good, but she wasn't going to jeopardize tonight, something her whole family had worked so hard and for so long to orchestrate. Still, maybe the world wouldn't end if she put off diving into the party for just a little while longer...

She had a good vantage point from the landing at the top of the stairs. She could see her father talking to an older man with white hair, while her mother was in the process of helping a middle-aged couple retrieve their coats from the coat-check. Madge searched her mother's face for any signs of strain, but she seemed to be holding up all right.

From experience, Madge knew it was going to be a long night. The hard core political types weren't going anywhere while there was alcohol to be consumed and networking to be accomplished. Half the state legislature was in the Undersees' living room and people were no doubt lobbying under the mistletoe. Madge leaned against the banister, watching and letting her mind wander back to the scene on the patio. Why did she end up confiding in Gale Hawthorne again? Was it just because he seemed so far removed from her everyday life? No, it was more than that. For some reason, despite making it clear on numerous occasions that he was no fan of hers, he seemed to actually listen to her, unlike her parents, or even Peeta tonight. What did that say, when some guy she barely knew paid more attention to her than the people who were supposedly closest to her did?

Madge lingered on the landing for as long as she could, but eventually, in between schmoozing sessions, Kevin looked up and caught her eye. He waved and raised his eyebrows in a question: was she all right?

Pasting on a smile, Madge waved back and slowly descended the stairs.

Madge couldn't have guessed how much time had passed before she finally got a chance to talk to one of her family members. An hour? More? The throng of guests wasn't as thick anymore, though the band was still playing. She had migrated into the living room where her high school classmates were congregated, and chatted her way through at least two refill glasses of sparkling water before she caught Maysilee's eye. Her aunt was wrapping up a conversation across the room and afterward wove her way over to Madge.

"You hanging in there, kiddo?" Maysilee asked quietly as she put her arm around Madge's shoulder. "Your absence was noted earlier."

Madge translated: her mother had complained about Madge's post-announcement disappearance to Maysilee, who more often than not ran interference between mother and daughter.

"I told you all that I didn't have time for that student group," Madge said in a low tone while trying not to visibly frown. "Undergrads for Undersee. Which, by the way, is an embarrassingly bad name."

Maysilee looked surprised. "Haymitch didn't talk to you?" She pursed her lips, her similarity to Madge's mother never more apparent, as that was one of Mrs. Undersee's signature expressions. "We had an emergency with another client this afternoon; he must have been tied up with that. I'm sorry, Madge. He was going to tell you that your involvement can be minimal. Very minimal. He found a senior on campus to run the group. You'll just need to show up every once in a while. That's it."

That didn't sound like much of an improvement. "So I'll be the jerk who drops in at the last second and takes credit for everything?" Madge couldn't stand those types of people, though admittedly she hated the idea of organizing this group even more.

Maysilee seemed unconcerned. "You don't have to take credit for anything, just go to their meetings and events occasionally. The girl who'll be running the group won't care, believe me. She gets it: if she does well with this, she's a shoo-in to get on the campaign staff this summer after she graduates. A paid position on a campaign for the future governor is nothing to sneeze at. If she's really good, she might even be able to leverage it into a role in your father's administration when he's elected."

"Someone should have talked to me first," Madge said, still not comfortable with the idea. "And my dad—he didn't seem to know about this either."

"He was in budget negotiations all day so we didn't get a chance to go over this again with him," Maysilee admitted. "You know how delicate those budgets talks can be. And hon, it's been crazy getting ready for this evening. We've all had so much to do. Getting the website ready, donor lists, press kits... After this party we'll hopefully have more money and be able to hire more staff to help, but until then we're operating on a shoestring."

More staff. So the staff could talk to Madge instead of, heaven forbid, her father. "Why even bother having me fake-involved with this school group, though?" she asked. It seemed like a lot of fuss and effort for something that was apparently going to happen whether or not Madge participated.

"It's not fake involvement," Maysilee corrected. "You're a busy college student, but you want to support your father however you can. Everyone understands that. And it's worth it because people are curious about you, Madge. With the national buzz around your father, they're wondering if you're the next Chelsea. And you can be quite charming when you want to—you could really help your father's numbers." Noticing Madge's stony expression, she added in a conciliatory tone, "We'll make sure to talk to him and Haymitch about it tomorrow. Iron out these communication issues."

How could Madge protest without coming off like a self-involved brat, exactly what people like Gale already thought of her? She could see that Maysilee really thought they'd come up with a sensible solution to the Madge Problem. Her aunt turned her attention back to the rest of the party, not expecting further protest from Madge. And obviously this was not the time or place to talk about Madge's objections, but as Madge swallowed her hurt once again she wondered when would be a good time. She'd heard a lot of promises of "tomorrow" in her life, and the word didn't seem to mean what her family thought it did. It also wasn't like the pace of life was going to slow down now that the campaign was officially public.

"Huh. Look at that," Maysilee said, focused on the opposite side of the foyer. Madge followed her aunt's gaze to Haymitch, who was standing near the coat check at the front door.

Inhaling sharply, Madge realized what had snagged Maysilee's attention: Haymitch was talking to Gale, who apparently hadn't left the party yet. With a pang, Madge remembered that to get back to his truck out front Gale would have had to come inside the house since a security gate in the yard prevented passage between the front and back yards.

"What is Haymitch doing?" Madge whispered, dread already flowing through her.

Maysilee sipped her wine, eyes on her husband. "Probably playing the concerned uncle card, making sure your new friend is worthy of you." Glancing at Madge, she added with a sly smile, "Don't worry, anyone who could get under your mother's skin that quickly starts out with his approval." She pulled Madge's hand onto her crooked arm like an escort. "Come on. You can introduce me, too."

Madge let herself be led across the room, eyes glued to her uncle and Gale. She wasn't surprised to see that they were mirroring each other's posture, locked in identical standoffish stances: arms crossed, wary expressions. The surprising part was that Gale hadn't outright bolted from the party and actually seemed to be the one talking. He uncrossed his arms and made a few complicated gestures with his hands. It looked to Madge like he was describing something mechanical. Haymitch had a gift for getting other people to talk—Madge had learned her own skills in that department from him—and clearly had figured out something Gale didn't mind conversing about. Trucks? Mining? The fine art of scowling?

Haymitch must have spotted Maysilee and Madge approaching out of the corner of his eye because he turned in their direction. Releasing Madge, Maysilee slid one hand up Haymitch's arm and palmed the lapel of his suit jacket with the other, whispering something into his ear with a smile.

Madge was at the perfect angle to see the look of shock on Gale's face.

"My aunt," she explained quickly, as Maysilee smiled faux innocently. "My mom's twin," Madge added testily. You'd think a woman in her 40s would have grown sick of playing twin-fake-out on unsuspecting victims, but Maysilee always gleefully claimed that she'd keep it up until she and her sister were in adjoining nursing home rooms.

Gale seemed relieved but still suspicious as he shook Maysilee's hand and listened to her introduce herself. "It's a pleasure, Gale," Maysilee said more seriously. "I've heard good things about you from Ivy Everdeen."

Madge felt bad for Gale at being bombarded from all angles by people who knew more about him than he did about them. First there was Haymitch, and now his wife, a clone of Madge's mother, saying she knew of him through Katniss's mother. Poor Gale was like a fly caught in a web he couldn't see.

"My mom and aunt went to college with Katniss's mom," Madge hastily clarified.

Before Gale could do anything with that information, Maysilee continued. "We figured out afterward that you were the one who gave Madge a ride the other day. Thanks again for getting her home."

"No problem," Gale said with a creased brow and a glance in Madge's direction.

He had to be completely bewildered, Madge thought, and was probably just trying to break free from the party, not sort out why Madge's aunt seemed to think well of him while Madge's mother didn't. Well, he didn't need to bother himself pondering it. Madge cleared her throat and stepped forward.

"It looks like Gale is trying to get home. We shouldn't keep him."

"Of course not," Maysilee agreed, patting Haymitch's chest, her cue to him to start to leave.

But Haymitch kept his eyes trained on Gale. "You still registered to vote here?"

"Yes, sir."

Haymitch flinched at the "sir" and Madge worried he was about to give Gale his lecture about how Madge's father was the "sir" while Haymitch was more of a "hey you." Instead Haymitch nodded toward the house and asked, "You supporting Bruce in the primary this May?"

"I don't know yet," Gale said coolly, re-crossing his arms over his chest.

Haymitch raised his eyebrows and shot a subtle questioning glance at Madge.

She stepped closer to Gale, partially shielding him from Haymitch. "Gale needs to get home," she said firmly. She could at least spare him from being harassed about the election or having to talk about his father's history in the mine and why he didn't like Madge's father.

But Gale didn't seem interested in leaving. Still watching Haymitch, he said in a challenging tone, "Isn't Undersee the first to officially declare? I'll need to see the whole field, hear what his positions are. It was all pretty vague tonight."

Madge noticed Maysilee take a sip of wine to hide her smile, while Haymitch just nodded solemnly and eyed Gale closely, assessing him. Haymitch didn't say anything right away and Madge was tempted to jump in again, but she'd already tried twice to give Gale an out. He seemed determined to seek out confrontations.

"The campaign website should go live tomorrow," Haymitch finally said, turning his head toward Maysilee for confirmation. She nodded. He handed Gale a business card. "Address is on here. You want to know his positions, they're all there. Take a look."

Gale accepted the card with a frown, and then carefully put it in a leather wallet so worn Madge was amazed it was still intact. She waited for Haymitch to say something else, or for Maysilee to speak up again, but they stayed silent, both observing Gale.

Finally Haymitch stepped forward to grasp Gale's shoulder. "Good talking to you, Hawthorne. Stay safe out there on that rig."

With that, he signaled to Maysilee that he was done. She said good-bye to Gale and told Madge that she'd catch up with her later that night. Madge nodded in recognition that they were trying to leave her with Gale, but wished she could make her exit as well. It was painfully obvious that Gale had been a topic of conversation around the Undersee household.

"It's like you have four parents," Gale said, watching Haymitch and Maysilee walk away and be reabsorbed into the party.

And yet the four didn't seem to add up to a full set, at least not during a campaign, Madge thought. Not that she'd say that to Gale. She just smiled grimly and held her arm out in the direction of the front door. "Come on," she said, gesturing him forward. "You should leave before anyone else in my family bugs you." Pausing, she almost didn't ask, but then decided she'd rather know. "Did... my mother say anything to you?"

"Not with words."

Madge grimaced, able to picture perfectly the expression her mother had probably turned on Gale. "She saw you come here with Katniss. I could see her being... confused."

Gale made a barely audible snorting noise and muttered, "She wouldn't be the only one who's confused tonight."

They reached the front door, which Madge opened and ushered Gale through before her mother could see them together again. Whenever other people were confused lately, Madge seemed to be the one to suffer.

Gale took the door and wedged his shoe against it, propping it open. "Did you talk to Katniss before she left?"

Madge heard a vulnerable note in his voice, below the gruffness. She quickly shook her head in response, but didn't add anything. The less she said about Katniss, and her own reaction to Katniss's implied accusation about Gale flirting with her, the better.

Still standing in the doorway, Gale said, "I saw her leave with that blond guy. They were in one of the rooms back there—" he gestured toward the rear of the house—"and made a break for it. But you probably knew all about that, didn't you?"

And just like that, he'd shifted gears back into attacking her. After she'd gone out of her way to try to help him get away from Haymitch and Maysilee. After he had been halfway decent to her earlier, confusing her yet again about how much of a jerk he truly was. Apparently still a pretty big jerk.

She glared at him. "Why do you always find a way to blame me for everything? It's a special skill you really shouldn't be proud of. And I do not need any more problems tonight, especially now that Katniss thinks—" She cut herself off as she noticed people nearby turning to look at her. Her voice must have been louder than she realized. She and Gale were also blocking the front door.

Nudging Gale the rest of the way through the door to the front porch, Madge was about to continue berating him when she realized she'd forgotten about the valets waiting to retrieve guests' vehicles. Two boys her age dressed in maroon vests and green elf hats leapt to their feet.

"Miss Undersee?"

"I'm not leaving," she said quickly, dropping her hand from Gale's arm. She hadn't even realized she'd been touching him. "My friend needs his car. Truck. It's, um, sort of brownish." She looked at Gale, anger fading into embarrassment again. "I don't know what model it is. To tell them so they can get it."

Gale glanced at the valet stand where the keys dangled and started walking towards it. "I can get it myself."

"Uh, sir," the closest valet said, following Gale to the stand, "actually we'll probably need to move other cars first to get it."

Looking out along the intricate puzzle of double-parked vehicles lining the Undersees' long drive, Gale seemed to reluctantly acknowledge that he wouldn't be able to make a clean escape. Instead, he just pointed out which keys on the stand were his. The valets quickly conferred and then grabbed a few other key rings and rushed off to move vehicles.

"I think I played Little League with that guy getting my truck," Gale mumbled when the valets were out of hearing distance. "Do I have to tip him? I'll feel like a total asshole if I do."

Madge gave Gale a tight smile, aware that he wasn't going to like her answer. "Well, do you think he'd rather have money, or the pleasant experience of reminiscing with you about Little League? Which would you want?"

Gale exhaled loudly and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, opening it a crack to peek at how much cash he had. Madge relaxed when she spotted a few bills; he'd be able to tip if he wanted to. Then he shoved his wallet back into his pocket and rubbed his face with his hands, making a low, frustrated sound.

"Sorry," he said, voice muffled by his hands. He pulled his hands away and exhaled loudly, staring at a fixed point of nothingness on the ground. "For before. I didn't mean to give you a hard time. I just... need this night to be over." He peered down the driveway to check on the valet's progress.

"At least you can leave," Madge muttered.

Gale looked over at her, and after a pause, smiled ruefully, eyes crinkling. He had a beautiful smile, even half-hearted like this one, and for a moment Madge forgot that she didn't like him.

"You could leave," he said. Something about his gentler tone and the way he was watching her so closely for her reaction made Madge wonder if he was inviting her to leave with him. Tonight. The way she'd wanted to do the last time they were both standing on this driveway, after giving her a ride home from school. Then it occurred to her that he'd probably intentionally been vague to see how she'd take it.

"My car's still being repaired," Madge said, volleying his vagueness back at him. She could see him trying to figure out if she was implying anything, squinting at her ever so slightly as though she were a puzzle.

Did it count as him flirting with her if he was vague? Did it count if she was vague back? What about if he talked to her like a normal person? What if his voice was softer than she'd ever heard from him before, a comforting sort of rumble? What if he was looking at her like he might actually enjoy her company?

Would Katniss think it was flirting?

Madge tore her eyes away from his. Katniss would think it was flirting.

Gale seemed to have had a similar thought because he took a step back and gestured to the collection of parked vehicles lining the drive. "Plenty of cars here to borrow." Jerking his head in the direction of the valet stand, he said, "You could nab some keys while I distract my Little League buddy with stories about the good old days."

"Tempting," Madge said lightly, not letting on how truly tempting the idea was as she watched the valets undo their intricate parking arrangements. Driving off with Gale—this pleasant incarnation of him, who'd seemed to have been on the verge of inviting her to leave with him—was starting to feel like something she'd want to do for fun, not just to escape. She couldn't leave the party, of course, so it was out of the question. But she felt vaguely guilty as she thought about how that practical reason—not being able to ditch the party—had popped into her head well before remembering that Katniss would probably flip out if Madge went somewhere with Gale tonight. It was just becoming easier and easier to see why someone might appreciate his company...

Which may have been exactly what Katniss was concerned about. Was Katniss right that Madge was vulnerable after the Greg fiasco? Some guy smiles at her and listens to what she has to say and that's it, she's wants to drive off with him?

While Madge was distracted with her thoughts, the heavy rumbling of an engine signalled the arrival of Gale's truck. Madge crossed her arms against the cold as Gale and the valet awkwardly exchanged keys and cash. Then, as Gale moved to climb into his seat, he paused and looked back at Madge.

"I didn't mean to get you in trouble with Katniss." He frowned as he heard his words and added with a shake of his head, "I also don't feel like I should be apologizing for something she said, but—"

Madge cut him off with a hand wave. "You shouldn't," she agreed. "Don't." But that was as much as she'd say against Katniss to Gale.

He seemed to understand and nodded curtly. "You going to be okay with her?"

Madge shrugged. Probably, but not yet.

"Don't be too hard on her," Gale said. "Her problem is with me, not you."

Madge hugged her arms more tightly to her chest. She needed to get inside soon. "What are you going to do?" she asked him.

Gale looked down at his key ring, which Madge could see from a distance was a battered, plastic replica of a lynx, the mascot for the high school in Twelve Springs that Gale and Katniss had attended. "Give her some time, I guess. Not that I have much of it here before I leave..." he added bitterly. After a few more moments of contemplating his key chain, he snapped his head up and climbed into the truck, closing the door and rolling down his window. Resting his elbow on the window, he watched Madge, seconds dragging out longer and longer. He looked more contemplative than angry, and Madge was struck again by the thought that when he wasn't scowling or unfairly blaming her for things, he had the potential to be a decent guy, the kind of friend it was good to have on your side.

"Hang in there, Madge," he finally said. "Campaigns don't last forever."

She smiled sadly—both because he was wrong and because he didn't know it—before waving good-bye as he started the truck and rolled up his window.

A/N: The party is finally over! And I was able to update within a month from the last chapter! (Yes, barely.) I started my new job and it's going really well, although the hours and my new commute are taking a big chunk out of my days; I'm still trying to figure out how to squeeze in writing with everything else I have going on. Big thanks to everyone reading this story even though I can't update as quickly anymore. Extra thanks to everyone who's reviewed! I love hearing from folks and getting confirmation that people are still reading this.