?Busy, as usual. Foaling season kept us hopping, but that?s mostly over, thank God. I lost two good mares this year, and neither managed to reanimate on the grounds, thanks to the help being on the ball.? Emily detangled herself from Shaun, still smiling, and turned to offer her hand. Not a hug, just her hand. I gave her a nod of approval as I took it. Her smile widened. ?Georgia. I can?t thank you enough for your coverage of my husband?s campaign.?
?It hasn?t just been me.? I reclaimed my hand. ?There are a lot of reporters keeping a close eye on the senator. Word on the street is he?s receiving the party nomination tonight.? The other political journalists were starting to smell ?White House? in the water and were gathering like sharks, hoping for something worth seizing on. Buffy spent half her time disabling cameras and microphones set up by rival blog sites. She spent the other half writing steamy porn about the senator?s aides and hanging out with Chuck Wong, who?d been spending a disconcerting amount of time in our van recently, but that was her business.
?Yes, but you?re the only one I?ve met who?s reporting on him, rather than the interesting things his campaign drives out from beneath the rocks, or the fictional affairs of his office aides,? Emily said, wryly. ?I know I can trust what you say. That?s meant a lot to me and the girls while Peter was on the road, and it?s going to mean a lot more from here on out.?
?It?s been an honor.?
?What do you mean, ?it?s going to mean a lot more??? asked Shaun. ?Hey, George, are you finally going to learn to write? Because that would be awesome. I can?t carry you forever, you know.?
?Sadly, Shaun, this doesn?t have anything to do with how well your sister can write.? Emily shook her head. ?It?s all about the campaign.?
?I understand,? I said. Glancing to Shaun, I continued, ?Once he accepts the nomination?assuming he gets nominated?this gets real. Up until now, it?s been a weird sort of summer vacation.? After the nominations, it would be campaigning in earnest. It would be debates and deals and long nights, and she?d be lucky to see him before the inauguration. Assuming all that work didn?t turn out to be for nothing; assuming he could win.
?Exactly,? said Emily, expression going weary. ?That man is lucky I love him.?
?Statements like that make me wish that I didn?t have quite so much journalistic integrity, Emily,? I said. The statement was mild, but the warning wasn?t. ?You, expressing unhappiness with your husband? That?s about to become sound-bite gold for both sides of the political fence.?
She paused. ?You?re telling me to be careful.?
?I?m telling you something you already know.? I smiled, changing the subject to one that would hopefully make her look less uncomfortable. ?Will the girls be joining you? I still need to meet them.?
?Not for this silly convention,? she said. ?Rebecca is getting ready for college, and I didn?t have the heart to drag Jeanne and Amber away from the foals to get their pictures taken by a thousand strangers. I wouldn?t be here if it wasn?t absolutely necessary.?
?Understandable,? I said. The job of a candidate?s spouse at the party convention is simple: stand around looking elegant and attractive, and say something witty if you get a microphone shoved in your face. That doesn?t leave much time for family togetherness, or for protecting kids from reporters itching to find something scandalous to start chewing on. Everything that happens at a party convention is on the record if the press finds out about it. Emily was doing the right thing. ?Mind if I drop by later for an interview? I promise not to bring up the horses if you promise not to throw heavy objects at my head.?
Emily?s lips quirked up in a smile. ?My. Peter wasn?t kidding when he said that the convention had you feeling charitable.?
?She?s saving up her catty for her interview with Governor Tate,? Shaun said.
?He?s agreed to an interview?? asked Emily. ?Peter said he?d been putting you off since the primaries.?
?That would be why he?s finally agreed to an interview,? I replied, not bothering to keep the irritation from my voice. ?Doing it before now was dismissible. I mean, what was I going to say about the man? ?Governor Tate is so busy trying to get elected that he doesn?t have time to sit down with a woman who speaks publicly in support of his in-party opposition?? Not exactly a scathing indictment. Now we?re at the convention and if he doesn?t talk to me when he?s talking to everyone else, it looks like censorship.?
Emily considered me for a moment. Then, slowly, she smiled. ?Why, Georgia Mason, I do believe you?ve entrapped this poor man.?
?No, ma?am, I?ve merely engaged in standard journalistic practice,? I said. ?He entrapped himself.?