Ed Gorman: Blindside

As he took his first taste he said, ‘You never miss, Joan. This is great.’ But despite his words the round face, not quite adult but not quite teenager either, sagged into an expression of hurt, maybe even loss. I’d focused on his anger upstairs. Now I saw what was behind the anger.

‘How’re you doing today, Jim? Better than yesterday?’

These two had a history. She wanted to be brought up to date. Obviously she’d been thinking about him.

‘Yeah. A little better, I guess.’

He glanced at me. I realized I was in the way. I finished my cookie and grabbed my paper cup of coffee. ‘Guess I’ll wander back up front. Thanks very much for the cookie.’ I nodded to Waters. ‘Maybe we should have dinner tonight if you’ve got time.’

He looked surprised, then suspicious. ‘Yeah, maybe.’

Up front several teenagers were trying to hang a large WARD. FOR THE PEOPLE. sign that would stretch from one side of the large room to the other. They were having a good time, especially the couples who were flirting and joking.

I walked up to the front window and looked out at the street. People were starting to drive home from work. Traffic clogged the four-lane avenue. As the front door opened and closed I could smell autumn again and it made me wonder what my college senior daughter was doing. Unlike me she was a sports fan. She loved football games especially. She never wanted for dates to games or any kind of social events, not only having inherited her mother’s brains but also her good looks. Then I thought of what Tom Ward said about how consultants make less than ideal fathers. Even though she’d lived with her mother except for the month she spent with me every summer, she loved me enough to forgive me and we were now not only father and daughter but true friends.

Then a voice said, ‘I’ll take you up on that dinner, Dev. And I won’t be such a shit.’ Even his grin was glum. ‘You just kind of scared me, I guess.’

‘I’m pretty harmless, Jim. Nobody’s going to lose his or her job.’

He tried to make a joke of it. ‘Well, I’m too important to fire, right? A big shot like me?’

‘You’re probably right. I read some of the recent speeches you wrote for Ward. They’re excellent.’

‘Oh, hell, they weren’t anything special.’ He waved my words away, looking uncomfortable. ‘I wrote better ones last year.’

I gave him my card. ‘I’ll be eating at the hotel tonight. Just give me a call.’

‘I will. I–I’ve got some things we need to talk about.’ Another awkward look, and then he swung around and headed quick and dead-on to the door.

As he left I got another scent of Halloween season. Then I happened to notice the blonde in the silver Porsche. She was almost directly across from me so I got a good look at her face. She was one of those fashionable country club women, all blonde and sculpted and self-reverent, like a sexual icon you could admire but never know. Just now she raised a camera with a long lens to her face and began snapping away. Since Waters was the only person on the street and since her lens moved with him as he walked, there was no doubt he was her subject.

She adjusted the lens once then put the camera down. Half a minute later she shot out of her parking space and bulleted into traffic. I’d already written the license number down.

Who would be following Waters to photograph him? I felt pretty certain she wasn’t federal or local law. I also felt certain that he was in trouble of some kind.

‘Ready for another cookie?’

I had to pry my gaze from the street. What the hell was going on? ‘Don’t mind if I do.’ I pointed to the nearly empty pan. ‘You’re beating your best time. It’s been about ten minutes and they’re almost gone.’

‘As I said, that makes me happy. I’m an empty nester. We had three kids and they’re all grown and gone now. This brings them back. Sort of.’

I took a bite. I hoped the hotel food was this good. ‘Did Jim talk about me?’

‘Yes.’ Her brow tightened. ‘He’s afraid you’ll get him fired. I hope that’s not true.’

‘It isn’t. Not in any way.’

She sighed and mimed fanning herself. ‘Whoosh. Good. I’ve gotten to know him over the past month and a half. I just feel sorry for him. He lost his brother in a boating accident three years ago, he told me. But I’m sure it goes back before that. He’s the nerdy boy who tells you how superior he is every once in a while. You know, being defensive. I’ve seen him once or twice try to come on to women around here and it’s painful to watch. People are so cruel to him and he doesn’t know how to defend himself. He’s so down on himself and people sense that and they make jokes about him. A lot of the time to his face.’

‘Has he ever said anything to you about being in trouble?’

She set the last three cookies on a plate then picked up the metal sheet she’d baked them on. ‘That’s a strange question.’ She now took the time to examine me. ‘I don’t know if I should be talking about anything… private.’

‘I’ve spent a little time with him and noticed that he seems worried about something. Innocent question. My name’s Dev Conrad, by the way. I’m working with the campaign for a few days.’

She stood the cookie sheet on its end and set her hands on it. ‘He had tears in his eyes the other day. I asked him what was wrong. And I thought it was funny because he wouldn’t tell me. He just shrugged and said maybe it would all work out. He usually tells me everything. Or at least that was the impression I had. He might have been holding a lot back from me all this time. I can’t be sure. But whatever this was it made him very upset. I’d never seen him quite that way, really depressed. Later I saw him up at the front window, staring out at the street. I walked up to him. He jerked away from me. I’d really scared him. I felt sorry for embarrassing him because people started looking at him. I know he was mad at me for a few minutes so I walked away. I really felt that I’d betrayed him in some way.’

The street. The Porsche. Being followed. So he’d been aware of it. Would he bolt if I brought up any of this tonight over dinner? There was definitely a spy in the campaign. I wasn’t sure what he was involved in but I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the man I was looking for.

‘Thanks very much, Joan.’

She held her cookie sheet in front of her like a shield. ‘Just be easy with him, Dev. He needs all the friends he can get.’

As I nodded and walked away, I wondered if he had any special friends in the Burkhart camp.

T here was a cafe in the hotel where I was staying. Before going up to my room I decided to have another cup of coffee. I’m one of the lucky ones. I don’t have any trouble taking a nap after a day’s worth of regular coffee. And a nap was what I was planning.

The cafe was busy with people who had decided that the food here was what they wanted instead of the more dramatic feast awaiting them in the hotel restaurant. I found a copy of the day’s Chicago Tribune and took one of the few empty booths.

Tuning out the clamor took a few minutes. Dishes clattering, waitresses calling out orders to the cooks, laughter, the occasional shout of ‘We’re over here!’ and the hostess asking me if I was sure all I wanted was coffee. This was how she let me know that she didn’t like the idea — not at all — that I was taking up a booth for a lousy two-dollar cup of coffee. It wasn’t worth explaining that I would have been happy to sit at the counter but all the stools were taken.

The Trib did an extensive rundown of state races. According to their numbers we were only four points behind Burkhart. They noted that we’d been down but were struggling back now. This was the best kind of press and I hoped the local TV news people would pick it up. As much as they liked Burkhart, they liked the horse race even more. This was the kind of story they could lead with, even though public polls generally aren’t as reliable as our own internals.