Whenever Jimmy mentioned any good press or told us about a new interview request, Matt would almost immediately counter with a negative story he’d read about him, or remind everyone how much of an advantage Candace Elroy had. I don’t know if he was conscious of this or if it was just a reflex, but after it happened a few times, Jimmy started calling him Debbie Downer—I can still remember the first time it happened, how Matt’s face got hard and Jimmy laughed in a way that didn’t sound particularly friendly.
I didn’t want to think that Matt was trying to bring Jimmy down in these moments—maybe he was, but I told myself it wasn’t out of spite. I hoped Matt just wanted to pull Jimmy back to reality, to remind him that there was still a lot of work to be done. Matt was someone who was always genuinely happy for his friends’ good news, who believed that there was always enough to go around—but maybe he only thought that when he was getting the most.
After the Rachel Maddow segment, while the rest of us were still buzzing from the thrill of seeing Jimmy on national news, Matt said, “Too bad we’re the only people in Texas watching MSNBC.”
—
Throughout the campaign, Ash was still booking jewelry parties. (Or trunk shows, as she called them.) Right after I’d gotten to Texas, I’d gone along with her to one of these parties that was hosted by one of the Dozens. There was nothing memorable about it, except that when we got back, Ash said, “Don’t worry, I won’t drag you along to all of these! I don’t want you to feel obligated. They can be such a bore.”
I was relieved when she said this, since I actually did find the parties a little boring. But after meeting all of her friends and seeing the dynamic between them, I began to get a little paranoid that she was embarrassed by me. I told myself that even if this were true, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. After all, it hadn’t always been my favorite thing to introduce her to new people when we were living in DC. I remember once when she came to a happy hour with all of my work friends, how I’d winced when she kept telling stories that started, “My daddy said…”
Ash and I had figured out how to keep our friendship separate, or at least I thought that’s what we were doing, until one day in June, when she invited me to a jewelry party that her friend Charlotte was hosting. “She specifically asked for you to come,” Ash said. “Don’t feel obligated, but I’d love it if you did.”
“Of course,” I said. What other choice did I have? Was I going to tell her I was busy, that I had to sit in the basement that night and couldn’t be disturbed?
“Great,” she said. “It will be tons of fun.”
—
I told Colleen about the party, how I was strangely nervous about going. I’d told her all about these girls, so she wasn’t surprised by my hesitation.
“I just don’t know why they’d invite me. It’s not like we really hit it off,” I said.
“Oh my God, do you think they’re going to Carrie you?” Colleen asked.
“To what?”
“Carrie you. You know, dump pig’s blood on you, humiliate you, all of that.”
“Oh my God. You’re crazy. They’re not that bad.”
“Yeah,” Colleen said. “They sound great.”
—
The night of the party, Ash came down to the basement as I was getting ready. “Can I do your makeup?” she said. “I’m in the mood to play around.”
She’d never asked to do my makeup before—as close as we were, this felt weird, but I agreed and sat with my eyes closed while she swept brushes across my face and updated me on everything that was happening with her friends, which meant telling me who was trying to get pregnant and who was having money problems. I mostly just said “Mmm-hmm” as she chatted. When I finally looked in the mirror, I had smoky eyes and a dark lip. “You look so great,” she said, nodding her approval, and I made myself smile and say thank you.
The party was fine. Everyone was friendly, at least to my face, and we all drank wine and bought some jewelry. I was different from these girls, and thank God for that, but they weren’t so bad. Honestly, I’m not sure they even thought about me enough to judge me. But the whole time I watched Ash make her presentation, there was part of me that wondered what she really thought of me, if she wished I wore more makeup, was a little more ladylike, and most of all, if she talked about me the same way she talked about all of the Dozens. I couldn’t shake the feeling the whole night, and I was happy when it was finally over.
—