Page 94 of Notorious

“We gotta get you to do more art,” I say, gesturing to the colorful paintings everywhere. “It’s obvious it’s part of you.”

“I know.” He sighs. “I don’t think I’ve created anything original since I gave Sam one of my paintings and Jules ended up using it on an album cover.”

“That’s super cool.”

Kurt smiles, but it’s a little sad. “I’ve just been so busy with work … and my mom’s campaigns … and then my own campaign.”

“And me,” I supply. “But let’s see if you can make some time to do this. You’re talented. If it’s something you like doing, then you should do more of it.”

“I’ll try to find some time for it, then. Thanks.” Kurt rubs his face. “Can I confess something?”

“Always.”

“I’m thinking about quitting the race.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You are? That’s not just jitters ahead of the debate?”

“That might be part of it. But I’m also wondering …” He sighs. “I’m wondering if I’m really cut out for this. Campaigning, and even legislating, seems so far removed from the action. I want to be helping people. And spending my time asking for money or making speeches seems like the opposite of that.”

“You’ll get there, darlin’. But you know I’ve got your back, whatever you decide to do.”

I just hope quittin’ the race doesn’t mean he’s quittin’ me. He says he won’t. But can I count on that?

CHAPTER 31

Kurt

Johnny and I go back downstairs, and my momther gives me one of her looks that makes me feel like a specimen under a microscope. “Kurt? Can I speak with you a moment?”

“Sure,” I say.

“I’ll go show Johnny the backyard,” my dad says. Did he and Momther discuss what’s on her mind already, or is he just picking up on her cues? Either way, Johnny, after a silent “Are you okay?” with me, strolls outside with my dad, leaving me and my mom in the TV room.

Once we’re alone, she studies me. Really studies me, so much so that I want to squirm.

“What’s going on, Mom? How are you?”

“I’m busy helping run the state, but right now I’m more interested in how my only son is doing.”

“I’m fine,” I say. I think that’s true.

“I’m not so sure. You married someone on the spur of the moment, and he’s distracted you from the election.” She pauses. “To be clear, I care more about you than any election.”

While I know she loves me, sometimes that gets lost because of her political ambitions. The idea that she would choose me over the White House is nice, although I’m not entirely sure it’s accurate. Maybe she thinks she can have it all.

“Thanks. I love you, too. But he’s important to me.”

“That came out automatically,” she says. “How do you really feel?”

I catch her eyes, then look around the room. It’s the most comfortable one in the house. The furniture is older and shabbier than the other spaces, which were put together by a top interior designer. But this room’s the real us. Dad’s old Barcalounger, which he insisted on keeping when they moved here, still holds pride of place.

“It’s complicated,” I finally admit. “But I’m not pretending. I really, really like him.”

“Good. In that case, let’s talk about the campaign. You know I’ll back you all the way, but I have to ask, are you sure this is the right path for you?”

I take a long breath. “I don’t know. But I’d be letting everyone down if I didn’t keep trying. I have the time, the money, the interest, the ability to be a politician.”

“I agree that you have all those things, but there are many ways to affect public policy. You don’t have to do it from Washington.” She tilts her head. “Sometimes just having a one-on-one with someone can do more good than a speech before thousands or even millions.”

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