"For being the first person to make me feel like I'm worthy."
"Oh, Ali, I believe it's the other way around."
"Hmmm . . .” My lashes flutter closed. The stress of the last few days disseminates as I lie in his arms.
"It's you that's changed me. In every damn way." He presses another kiss into my hair. “Make me a promise.”
“What’s that?”
“That we can start every day off with something like this. Without the speech, of course,” he chuckles.
“I’d like that.”
“Me too, baby. Me too.”
Barrett
EVERYONE IS IN THE DINING room when we go downstairs awhile later. Lincoln is eating a bowl of cereal, with Hux at his side, playing some kind of video game. Ford is messing around on a computer. Graham is at the head of the table, sorting through a stack of papers with a red pen. He looks up as we enter.
"Good news!" he says, smiling brightly. "The feedback from your little speech is altogether positive. People seem to have responded to your stupidity, one even going as far as to call you, and I quote, 'People's Choice.' They're saying you're the candidate of the people, the first real candidate in recent memory."
"So, like, he's the MVP of the race?" Lincoln asks, sitting his bowl on the table.
"Seriously, Lincoln?" Ford sighs, shaking his head. He looks up at me. "I'm reading about you right now. Listen to this, Barrett Landry surprised us all when he gave a press conference this morning. Speculation ran rampant, some going so far as to say he’d be addressing rumors of a rift in his campaign and others expecting an engagement announcement. They were all right, yet wrong. The Mayor took to the podium and gave an off-the-cuff response to his candidacy, one that has resonated strongly with the people of Savannah. While his handlers looked apprehensive going into the conference, the voters looked confident heading into the polls today. The ‘Vote Landry’ buttons we've been seeing spring up in the past few weeks are out in full force this morning."
My father beams, placing both hands on the table. "Well, I'll be."
"I'm shocked," Graham says, resting his hands on a stack of papers in front of him. "The early polling data is strong. Monroe made a statement right after your speech earlier, but I think it's too late to do much damage. Not to mention it was heavily tempered from what I expected. I think he's afraid of making you an enemy at this point."
"Fuck him," I snarl.
"I—" my father begins but is cut off by the door opening.
"Where y'all at?" With the muted Southern drawl, it’s obvious it’s Sienna. She took off for Los Angeles a few years ago and has adopted a semi-California accent now, much to my parents’ dismay.
In a couple of seconds, she rounds the corner with a bright smile. She’s identical to Camilla, except she’s dyed her hair a richer blonde. She’s dressed in camouflage pants, a tight black t-shirt, and Chucks. "I'm the last to show up. Naturally."
"Hey, I told you to come last night," Lincoln says.
"You should've come last night," my father says, standing straight and crossing his arms over his chest.
"I had things to do. Besides, it’s not like I waited until the last second.”
"Painting pictures isn't an acceptable excuse," Dad says.
She gives our father a look. “Hush, Daddy.”
“Come here,” Dad says, shaking his head. Sienna waltzes over, knowing he’s putty in her hands, and kisses his cheek before turning to me.
"Good speech, B. I saw it online on my way over. I’m over the red ties, though. Let’s freshen your style up a little," she teases.
"I’m good. Thanks," I laugh, taking a quick hug from my baby sister. “Sienna, this is Alison Baker.” I take a step back and pull Alison towards me. “Ali, this is Sienna, the missing piece of the Landry puzzle.”
Sienna flashes Alison a wide smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Alison says, returning Sienna’s grin.
My sister looks at me and winks. "I'm going to grab a shower. The plane was delayed last night, so I had to grab one today.” She raises her voice. “Thus explaining why I wasn’t here then, Daddy.”
He just shakes his head and Sienna kisses his cheek again. She flashes me a peace sign and bounds up the stairs.
"What happens now?" Lincoln asks, looking at his phone.
“Lincoln!” Sienna shouts from the second level. “You took my room!”
Everyone laughs as Lincoln cringes.
“Your shit is in the hall, fucker!” she yells. Items can be heard hitting the floor.
“Watch your language-—” Dad booms up the stairs, but a door is slammed before he can finish.
"We won’t know anything until late tonight," Graham says, unfazed by the outburst. "Don't forget, there's a news station coming by this afternoon to do a quick little piece on the family. If everyone could be dressed and happy and pretend to be the Cleavers, that would be great."
"Is there anything I can do?" Ford asks, pulling a red shirt over his head. "If not, I'm going to go for a run."
"Go on," I say, looking down at Alison. "It's going to be a long day."