"Good TV." Amy announces as we stand in the empty convention center, taking in the ambiance before the circus starts. "That's all we're looking for."
Donna gives her an inscrutable look. "I don't know, after four years ago, I think we might be better served to show boring, stable leadership."
"Stable leadership with flashy graphics, colorful imagery, and upbeat music." Amy insists.
This time Donna nods in agreement. "Yeah,okay."
It's not like they are having a real debate. The schedule is set. And while they both had plenty of input. Neither of them is really in charge of this show tonight. Truthfully, at this point we're mostly here for moral support. And because we want to be.
We're all quiet for a moment. Just taking it in. There really is something magical about turning an empty stadium into the center of democracy in action. The state delegation signs are on the floor. Bunting hangs from the rails. And high above us in the rafters, there will be balloons ready to fall at our final moment.
A couple k-9 units patrol the stands, working both sides of the auditorium to assure our safety. A huge stage flanked by flags dominates one end. Even though we aren't in the same city, I can't help but remember Leo standing there, hand in hand with Matt, arms raised, accepting his party's nomination for the vice-Presidency.
We won't have the same drama at this convention, but I truly hope that it still gives everyone goosebumps. That we can inspire them to do more. To actively engage. As Jed likes to say, "Decisions are made by those who show up."
And speaking of showing up, we should get back to our jobs. The venue is ready for sound checks.
. . . . .
The Santos suite is surprisingly quiet when we get back to it. Matt and Helen are sitting on the couch sipping coffee, chatting with both our mothers. It's surreal.
"Where are the kids?" Donna asks in surprise.
"Hello, Donna. It's nice to see you too." Her mother chides her lack of greeting.
"Hi Mom. Where's Lulu?" She repeats, this time looking at my Mom. After all, when we last left her, she had our daughter.
"All the kids are down in the Ziegler suite." Helen informs us. "Peter wanted to hook up with Carly as soon as they arrived."
"Don't say hook up." Matt murmurs, receiving a glare from Helen as she continues her explanation.
"And Miranda was already hanging out with Molly."
" Lulu wanted to go too," Lottie informs us, "so your Dad went with them."
"Oh, okay." Donna accepts this answer and moves toward the buffet against the wall in search of coffee, but I'm intrigued.
"Dad's hanging out with Toby? And they've got all the kids? This I've got to see. What room are they in?"
"1510"
"I'll be right back."
It's easy to spot which room is Toby's because Chip and Linda are standing guard outside the door.
"How ya doin'?" I ask him as I rap on the door.
"There's a lot of squealing, but I've been assured that everything is fine in there." He informs me without guile. He may be young but he takes his job very seriously. I have no doubt that he'd protect Lulu with his life.
Toby is rubbing his temple when he answers the door. The screeching behind him is piercing.
"What the hell?"
"Welcome to the Hilton House of Horror." Toby answers dryly as he motions for me to enter.
"Hi Uncle Josh!" Carly shouts, running to me and giving me a quick hug. "Peter and I are winning!"
"It's not fair! They're bigger." Miranda insists just before letting a bean bag fly.
"What are you doing?"
"Corn hole!" Peter announces, "Carly brought me these as a present!" He points to the raised boards at either end of the room decorated like American Flags.
"That was nice." And unsurprising, given that corn hole is practically a professional sport in the Midwest. I'm getting quite good at it.
"Look what Peter gave me!" Carly responds, holding up a laminated pass on a lanyard hanging around her neck.
The grin on her face is so much like Donna's, I'm transported back a dozen years, reminded of her reaction to the first thing I ever gave her. What goes around really comes around.
"Hi Daddy, Hi!" Lulu shouts from the couch where she's sitting with Huck.
"Hi sweetheart. Hey Jim." I greet my father-in-law, who is sitting in a chair at the table. There's a cup of coffee in front of him and one across from him. Toby reclaims that seat and it occurs to me that he and Jim were having a conversation before I arrived. I wonder how that was going.
"Hi Josh."
"Is Andy around?" I ask Toby, still unsure if he's really in charge of this mad house.
"She went down for a sound check. She's speaking tonight."
"Yes she is. Did you write her speech?"
He gives me a look that says "what do you think?" But I don't know what to think. Toby and Andy's relationship is still inexplicable. They get along and they are fond of each other, but they don't seem to be in a romantic relationship. When Toby visits the kids he keeps his things in the guest room, but he's hinted that he occasionally joins Andy in her bed, depending on if she's seeing anyone. It's odd.
So I just shrug at him.
"She mostly wrote it herself, with input from her staff. I was allowed to give it a little polish." He finally offers. "It's good."
"I'm sure. You gonna come down and watch tomorrow?"
"Nah. The Press pretty much leaves me alone, but I really don't like to tempt the thing. And given how close the convention is to the anniversary of the story, I'll take a pass on this one and watch it on TV from here."
"But what about the Twins?"
"Andy's Chief of Staff is here. She'll take the kids down to watch from backstage."
"Okay. Well, speaking of sound checks. I'd better get back to work." I stand up, bringing Lulu with me. "Hey Jim, do you want to head back with me?"
"I'm staying to keep my eye on those two." He announces with a gesture toward Peter and Carly. Peter looks up with a sad expression on his face, and I suddenly feel guilty. I've been struggling with how protective to be of Carly, and I haven't given enough thought to Peter. He's a great kid. He's never caused an ounce of trouble. Even as he struggled with depression and bullying at school, he always treated everyone else with kindness. Treating him like he's the bad guy just because he's a boy interested in a girl really isn't fair.
"They'll be fine. They're great kids. They don't need a babysitter."
"And I'm, like, right here." Toby points out.
Jim looks unimpressed at Toby's offer of supervision but contemplates the suggestion. Finally he relents. "Okay, but you two stay here. Call me when you are ready to go. And don't outstay your welcome. Remember this is Mr. Ziegler's room.
"Okay Grandpa!" Carly beams.
"Yes, sir." Peter agrees softly and I see Jim relax a little. I think he really does appreciate good manners. If he really had a chance to get to know the Santoses, I think he'd be pleasantly surprised to learn that their moral convictions are very similar to his own.
. . . . .
The first day of the convention is devoted to council and caucus meetings. While those go on, we host a revolving door of party leaders in the Presidential suite. It's a never ending stream of coffee and pastries only broken up by a longer lunch meeting with Vice-President Baker and his wife.
Donna and I are thrilled to be able to step out for that. It's not that I don't like the Bakers, it's just that my track record with vice-presidents isn't so great.
Baker is a consummate politician. I still find it a little unbelievable that he begged off from running when everyone thought it was his turn, tried to execute a sneak attack for the nomination, and still ended up as VP at the end of the day. But at the end of the day, he's done a good job for us. He runs the plays that we call without complaint and he's generally well liked within the party. I fully expect that he'll be the heavy favorite for our nomination in four years. I just hope that no one expects me to run it.
Our suite is dark and quiet when we slip inside.
"What?" I look at Donna for answers. "Where is everyone?"
"I told you. Our parents took the kids to the Minnesota Children's Museum with Toby and the Twins."
"So we're here alone?"
"Yes." She grins at me suggestively.
"All by ourselves?"
"That is the definition of alone."
"How long do we have?"
"About a half hour."
"I can work with that."
. . . . . .
Lulu passes out a few minutes after 8 o'clock and I'm able to transfer her into the portable crib in the corner of Mom's room in our suite. I'm pretty sure that Mom insisted on sharing her room with Lulu just so we could work on making another grandchild, but hey, I don't have a problem with that.
When I come back into the living room, Donna and our parents have just settled down to watch the pre-show. I'd sort of like to be a fly on the wall and watch how Donna's Republican parents and my die-hard Democratic mother interact for the next 3 days but not as much as I want to go downstairs and watch the speeches live. Plus I know that my Mom can hold her own. She may seem like a sweet, soft-spoken old lady, but under that facade is the powerhouse who volunteered at every level of politics for the last five decades. There's a reason I went into politics, and it wasn't my Dad.
"I'm going to head downstairs. You coming?" I ask rhetorically as I offer Donna my hand.
She takes it and stands up, then smooths out her skirt. "You guys are good with Lulu?" She asks her parents as she takes her suit jacket off the back of a chair.
"Yes, that's why we're all here." Mom answers her, while Lottie nods.
"We'll stay here for a while and watch the convention with Sylvia." Lottie responds. "Then we'll just be next door if you need us."
"Okay, thanks."
I grab our backstage passes and slip Donna's over her head. She grins brightly at me, so I give her a quick kiss. God, I love her so much. I can't wait to do this convention with her. It's going to be so much better than the two times we nominated Jed and I was trying to keep myself from falling head over heels in love with her. And it's going to be phenomenally better than four years ago when we were battling each other to try to get our guy nominated.
This time I get to walk through the halls with my hand on the small of her back and not pull it away when someone notices. This time I can wrap my arms around her as we listen to Andy give an incredible opening speech that reminds us that our choice is a man who has answered the call to serve our country at every opportunity, a man who has always chosen us, a man who is already our President. Matt Santos.
After Andy, the convention chairperson recites the party platform, and once again I am proud to be a member of the Democratic Party. A party that recognizes our strength lies in our diversity as a people. A party that recognizes that none of us is free until all of us are free. A party that recognizes that healthcare is a human right. A party that wants to move forward, not backward.
My voice is getting hoarse as I scream, yell, and whistle my support through a line up of speakers. My hands are turning red from clapping as loudly as I can. And my wife is standing next to me, matching me cheer for cheer. What a great night.
There's a small commercial break before Foo Fighters launch into their short set, so Donna and I head upstairs to retrieve the First family. Helen will close out tonight's activities with her speech. She's a little nervous so Donna wants to walk down with her and give her moral support.
As soon as we enter the suite, all four of them stand up. They look perfect. Whoever styled them really did a great job. Helen's in a bright blue suit with a bright white scarf peaking out. Matt is in a perfectly tailored navy suit with a red power tie. Peter matches him but is wearing a vest and red bow tie. And Miranda is in a bright red poofy dress. Picture perfect.
At that moment Carly comes out of the bathroom, smoothing down the skirt of her sheath dress. Oh my god. She looks so grown up. She's wearing just a touch of lip gloss. I can't tell if the slight blush on her cheeks is natural or cosmetic as she walks over to Peter and takes his hand.
Her dress is the same color as Miranda's. They must have planned it. I wonder if Donna knew? Glancing over at her, I see that she's biting her lip. I don't think she was included in this. I wonder if I should say something. When Helen's speech is over, the family will join her out on the stage, and it looks like they might be planning to include Carly. Do I need to tell them that the National Convention is NOT the right time to introduce Peter's girlfriend? Even if it wasn't our niece, and even if I didn't desperately want to shield her from the press, it just wouldn't be appropriate.
Still, we've got almost an hour before this becomes an issue. For now we just need to get down to the stage, then I can figure out if I need to be the bad guy.
On the way down to the stadium, Donna and I walk at the back of the pack.
"I take it that was a surprise to you?" I whisper to her.
"Yeah. What do I do? I don't want to talk to Helen about it before the speech and get her rattled, but it will be too late to discuss it after. Do I pull Carly and Peter aside while Helen is speaking and explain to them why Carly can't join the family on stage? I don't want to hurt their feelings but it's really not an option."
"They're both bright kids. Hopefully they'll understand. But let me talk to Matt first. Maybe they've already had the discussion."
"I hope so. But you know how Matt likes to be an unconventional politician. Look at what he put you through in the last campaign!"
I love that she noticed and she's still a little disgruntled on my behalf.
"He listens to me a little more now. And he's always had great instincts. Let me talk to him and make sure we're all on the same page before we talk to Peter and Carly."
"Okay, thanks."
Foo Fighters are just starting Miracle when we arrive, so the kids all crowd toward the stage to sing along.
The familiarity of the song seems to be comforting to Helen who is swaying while reviewing her notes.
I grab Matt.
"I need to talk with you for a second."
"Okay, but I want to kiss Helen before she goes out."
"Of course. This will only take a second. I just want to let you know that I don't think it's a good idea for Carly to join you on stage."
Matt looks startled, then glances over to the kids. "Ah. The matching dress. Do you think that's what they are planning?"
"I don't know. Did you talk to them about it?"
"No. But we have told Carly that we think of her like family. I think she's really good for Peter. And Helen complimented her on the dress. We thought it was nice that she fit right in."
"You don't think they talked to Helen about it?"
"No. She would have said something. And I don't think she'd approve. Neither of us want the Press to focus on Peter."
"Right. I'll talk to Peter and Carly while Helen is speaking. I think they are fine back here and at the hotel, only credentialed press will see them and they'll respect your edict about authorized photos only. But if Carly goes on stage that would be an authorized photo. And then even if the mainstream press didn't cover it right now, the tabloids would start hounding them. And I know that Donna's brother would not be happy about that."
"Neither would I."
"Go, kiss your wife. I've got this."
Matt motions to the kids and all three of them join him, giving Helen a little bit of encouragement and hugs before she's announced and walks out onto the stage.
"Thank you, thank you everyone." She greets the crowd as the cheering settles down. "I'm so happy to be with you tonight. Four years ago, we stood on this stage and promised that if you elected my husband we would work every day to create a brighter America, and I'm pleased to say, that we've done our best, and that we've accomplished many of our goals, but we're not done yet!"
As another round of applause fills the venue, I tap Peter on the shoulder. "Hey, Bonnie and Clyde- I need to talk to you."