Page 24 of Campaign Season
Chapter
Three
October 30th
Only a few more days until Candace could finally exhale.
News that she planned to watch the midterm election results from the family home in Schoharie—and spend the weekend there afterward—had been met with mixed reactions. Some commentators chose to paint the trip as proof she was still recovering from her injuries that summer, suggesting that perhaps the White House hadn’t been as transparent about the president’s health as it claimed.
There were moments when the spin machine amused Candace and others when it drained her to the bone.
“We can spin this back in your direction,” Michelle said crisply. “It’s no secret that there’s construction inside the White House. It makes sense for you to work from New York or Camp David for a few days. Evacuating staff during another false alarm is easier than moving the First Family.”
Candace groaned.
“It might quiet some of the chatter,” Michelle added.
“Or it might open the floodgates for more conspiracy theories.” Candace set her glasses down on the Resolute Desk.“The truth is best, Shell. Simple. Direct. I’ll be flying home Tuesday morning to cast my vote. I’ll remain in Schoharie for the rest of the week, barring anything urgent in Washington. Your father’s illness isn’t a national security secret. We’re gathering as a family. That’s the truth. Stick to it.”
Michelle arched an eyebrow. “You realize some people will color that, too? You spending a long weekend with your ex-husband?”
Candace shrugged. “The problem with spin is that it’s self-perpetuating. Once you start the wheel, it’s hard to make it stop.”
“It’s your call.”
“Yes, it is,” Candace agreed, her tone final. “What else?”
“Do you plan to speak to the press after your appearance with Congressman Dean?”
“I imagine it will be hard to avoid them.”
“They’ll press this issue.”
“It isn’t an issue,” Candace said firmly.
“Mom—”
“I’ll handle it, Shell.”
“What if they ask about Dad?”
Candace massaged her brow, trying to ease the tension there. “Shell, your father has terminal cancer. It isn’t a secret. If they ask, I’ll be forthright. We don’t know how much time we have left with him. The election timing worked. We’re having an early holiday together.”
Michelle hesitated, then pressed gently, “They’ll ask why you need to be there.”
Candace inhaled slowly, tempering her irritation. Michelle was doing her job well. Still, this topic scraped raw. Some people couldn’t fathom divorced couples remaining friends. They didn’t understand that Jonathan had been part of her life since they were kids. She didn’t feel the need to justify her decision, not as president and certainly not as a mother.
“Let them ask,” Candace said at last.
“Mom—”
Candace met her daughter’s gaze, steady and unflinching. “Let. Them. Ask.”
The intercom buzzed.
“Yes, Carol?”
“Sorry, Madam President. Assistant Director Toles is here.”
