Couples

Chapter 78

Kate wakes up to Rick staring at the ceiling. "What's wrong?"

"Alexis is moving her stuff out today. I mean, she's been spending a lot of time at Dana's apartment anyway, but now they'll have a place together. The wedding was the ritual, but the idea of having all her things gone seems so final."

"Marriage is supposed to be final," Kate points out, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. "My parents were 'til death do us part. I can't imagine them any other way. Dana and Alexis are great together. It's time for you to cut the apron strings."

"When was the last time you saw me wear an apron?" Rick asks.

"Thanksgiving, the one with a cartoon of you holding a carving knife, saying, 'I made the turkey. Eat it or else.'"

"All right, but in no way was Alexis tethered to that garment. And I took it off before dinner anyway. There's a lot I'm going to miss, though: the violin music when I'm pretending I'm writing, the disappearing brownies, the lectures about my spelling, being able to hug her for no reason. She's been in my life almost every day for 18 years. It's hard to let that go."

Kate presses a kiss to the bare skin of his chest. "I know, but Hudson University is less than an hour from here. And she'll always be your daughter."

"Yes, she will. But I'll never be the number one man in her life again."

Kate throws her leg across his body. "But you're the number one man in mine."

"You'll be picking things up from two places," Dana instructs the students doubling as movers. Everything in my apartment goes, but we'll be taking furniture and boxes from the loft where my wife Alexis was living as well. Those should actually be easier. The building has a freight elevator."

"We can handle it," Jethro Eagan assures him. "We cleared your new apartment at Colbert Hall yesterday. We had to temporarily take some doors off the frames to get everything out, but one way or another, we get things moved. Are you going to need help assembling furniture or unpacking?"

Dana shakes his head. "We've got that covered. The move is kind of a family project. But we do need your truck and pads and stuff."

Jethro nods. "No problem. Where's your wife?"

"At the loft. We just got married yesterday, and she's sort of saying goodbye to her old room. She'll be showing you what to take."

Jethro whistles. "Married yesterday and moving today. You guys aren't in a hurry or anything, are you?"

"Just to get the move done so we can settle in and have some time to ourselves. At least we'll have a week before most of the students arrive."

Jethro shrugs. "I don't know about that. When we were there yesterday, quite a few had already moved in. They looked like freshmen, probably there early for orientation. You and your wife may be busier than you think."

Dana sighs. "Whatever happens, we'll handle it."

Even on a Sunday, Eli's campaign headquarters is a hive of activity. Volunteers are inventorying buttons, hats, and T-shirts and sending them out. A line of young people in front of computers monitors social media to track trends and occasionally leave comments. Lana is organizing teams to knock on doors, and Eli is working on a speech.

Despite how easily words come to him in a courtroom, he hates writing speeches. Almost everything he says sounds like tooting his own horn. Of course, politicians are supposed to toot their own horns. That's how they get elected. But Eli grew up appreciating humility. And given the behavior of some judges, that hasn't been a bad attitude to embrace. He already slipped a little in front of Markway. After that, bragging about his accomplishments and predicting future victories in front of a throng won't come easily.

He could give up and have someone write the speech for him. He's sure Stason has people turning out the B.S. he spews. And Rick's offered to find him a talented wordsmith or turn a phrase or two himself. But Eli wants the thoughts that flow from his lips to be his own. If he can do it in court, he can do it for crowds and cameras.

He looks up at a sudden influx of sound. Someone turned on the T.V. Stason is on a Sunday morning show, claiming that he will stand up for the rights of businessmen who grow the economy and create jobs for real Americans. Eli can almost hear the dog whistle, and his fingers fly over the keyboard of his laptop. His speech is becoming an argument against the misrepresentations and outright lies of his opponent. And for him, crafting a rebuttal is second nature.

Alexis wipes her forearm across her eyes. "This is the last box. The kitchen is all done."

Dana tightens the final screw on the bookcase he and his father are assembling. "This is finished too. It shouldn't take long to put away the books."

Alexis consults the clock on the microwave oven. "It's three o'clock. Do you guys want a snack? I'm starving."

"Maybe I can catch a little bit of the game while we have something," Bart suggests. "Dana got the cable working."

"It came with the apartment, Dad. It didn't take much to connect to it. But you go ahead and turn it on. I'm going to fill this thing up, unless," he calls to Alexis, who's still in the kitchen, "do you need any help putting food out, Hon?"

"I had more trouble fitting all the stuff my father gave me into the refrigerator than I will taking it out again. He must have bought out half the deli. Do you want sandwiches? He sent roast beef."

"Sounds good to me," Bart replies, flipping through channels to find the Sports Network.

"Sounds great," Dana agrees, catching a glimpse of a news channel. "Hold on, Dad. That's Eli Douglas."

Alexis comes in from the kitchen, holding a paper-wrapped packet of roast beef. "The reporter's asking him about comments that creep Stason made this morning."

"Yes, I heard what Mr. Stason asserted," the on-screen Eli replies to the inquiry. "And I say asserted because it means claiming without proof. Or, in this case, when there is substantial proof to the contrary. The men Stason asserts have been building the economy of this city and providing jobs have, in fact, taken every chance to grab food out of the mouths of New Yorkers. Contractors have filed more than 100 suits against Mr. Kushman and Mr. Flatt to recover unpaid funds due them for their work. Inspectors found dangerously out-of-specification materials in their buildings, leading to severe hazards and multiple injuries. Both Mr. Kushman and Mr. Flatt used borrowed funds to erect their projects. They then defaulted on payments and declared bankruptcy leaving their creditors and the taxpayers holding the bag. None of the events I've cited are opinion or speculation. They are all a matter of public record. Documentation is available both to the press and any private citizen who wants to check it out. The men Mr. Stason so vigorously supports have been victimizing the public for years.

Now, as to the current criminal cases against these men. That they have been charged with conspiracy to commit homicide is again a matter of public record. Legal ethics prevent me from saying any more than that. Everyone, including Mr. Kushman and Mr. Flatt, has a right to due process. However, it is my job to represent the interests of the people of New York and pursue the prosecutions. It is the job of Kushman's and Flatt's counsels to offer a defense and that of a jury to render a verdict. The outcome will speak for itself."

"Go, Eli!" Alexis exclaims.

"That one landed right between the eyes," Bart agrees. "But is any of what you're holding going to end up in sandwiches?"

Alexis gazes down at the forgotten contents of her hand. "Oh!"

Dana wraps his arm around her shoulders. "Come on. We'll make them together."