Jennifer Close - The Hopefuls

We were pretty quiet on the ride home, but not in the same way as we’d started the trip. There was a resigned sense in the car, the way it feels when you know something is over and you’re just waiting for the end to come.

Back in Houston, the last few days before the election crawled by. Friday was Halloween, so after Jimmy stopped by a community center and a church group in the morning, he and Matt returned home so he could take Viv trick-or-treating. Ash had decided months earlier that Viv should be a pumpkin for Halloween. (“Because she’s our little pumpkin,” she explained, as if they were the only people in America who referred to their baby as pumpkin.) Beverly made the costume herself, and it was a beautiful one — a soft round pumpkin body with a jack-o’-lantern face on the front. Viv wore green striped tights and sparkly green shoes and (of course) a headband that had a leaf attached to it.

Ash got her dressed upstairs, then had us all wait in the front hall as she brought her down. Both sets of grandparents were there, and we all stood at the bottom of the stairs, clapping as Ash presented her. Viv laughed at the attention and then started clapping for herself. We all agreed that she made an exceptionally cute pumpkin.

Jimmy and Ash posed with her in front of the house, and I took pictures of the three of them smiling and looking adorable, which were immediately posted to Facebook. (What you couldn’t see from the picture was the fight they’d had right before, when Ash asked Jimmy to put on a different shirt so they could better color-coordinate and he said, “What is this, a fucking catalog shoot?” before stomping up the stairs to change.)

Sugar Land went all out for Halloween — there were costume parades and haunted houses in the town square. Families decorated with huge cobwebs and spiders on their lawns, ghosts hanging from trees, scarecrows propped up by front doors. By 3:30, the sidewalks were flooded with groups of tiny costumed children. Matt and I stayed at the house to hand out candy while Jimmy, Ash, and the grandparents took Viv trick-or-treating. (She only made it to about five houses before she was ready to call it quits.)

Later, we all ate the chili that Mrs. Dillon had brought over and drank pumpkin beer and ate leftover miniature Milky Ways. We were acting chipper, maybe for the benefit of the grandparents, but the evening had a strained feeling to it. I got into bed early that night, before 9:00. I wasn’t all that tired, but I was ready for the day to be over, impatient for morning to come so we could be one day closer to putting this all behind us. If we could just get through the next week as planned, I felt that things would be okay. But it took me a while to fall asleep that night, possibly because my mind was busy, thinking, Hurry, hurry.

—

On Saturday, we went to a Rock the Vote rally and I handed out push cards as fast as I could — I’d noticed there were still boxes of them in the den and I figured the fewer that were left, the less depressing it would be. (I noticed that Matt and Ash were both handing out their own push cards at an impressive speed, which made me think they had the same thought I did.)

Candace Elroy wasn’t at this event — the Republicans were always invited but rarely participated — so Jimmy was one of only three Democratic candidates who spoke. As he came up to the stage, I took note of how handsome he looked. He’d always been handsome, of course. This wasn’t anything new. And it’s not like I’d never thought about it before — it was, after all, the very first thing I’d noticed about him when we met. But my awareness of it now felt different. It wasn’t just a fact that I knew about him — like that he was tall or from Texas — it was something I was conscious of all the time, in a way that seemed stupid and dangerous. When we got out of the car that day, he’d brushed by me and my whole body had buzzed. As we walked into the event, he said, “Are you ready for this?” and I said, “As ready as I’ll ever be,” and then he held up his hand for a high five, and when I awkwardly slapped his palm, I felt my cheeks get warm.

Katie stood next to me while Jimmy spoke. She was as serious and diligent as ever and had plans to move to DC in January. Matt had already hooked her up with a few people there, and I knew without a doubt that she’d find a job easily, that she’d be successful. She was so certain of what she wanted to do, and I felt something like jealousy that day as she smoothed her ponytail and clapped at Jimmy’s words. When he was done, she turned to me out of the blue and said with complete seriousness, “You should be proud of how you handled the social media. Not everyone your age can navigate it so well.”

—

That night, we picked up pizza on the way home and ate an early dinner in front of the television, balancing plates on our laps. We were all quieter those last few days — there was no more fighting or at least none that I saw. Matt wasn’t quite so forceful with his opinions, and Jimmy didn’t push back as much. The two of them were acting like a couple who are getting divorced but still have to live in the same house after the decision’s been made — there was nothing left to fight for so they may as well be civil.

The TV was on MSNBC, but as soon as we sat down, Jimmy said, “Does anyone mind if I put on the Texas game?” We all shook our heads no, and I was happy as the noise of football filled the room, sick of listening to the news.

Ash took tiny bites of her slice and then got up and walked her plate to the kitchen. I sat a few minutes longer, staring at the game, pretending to be interested, but I didn’t care about either team and it wasn’t particularly close anyway. I got up to take my own plate to the kitchen, grabbing Jimmy’s and Matt’s as well, both of them saying “Thanks” while keeping their eyes glued to the TV.

In the kitchen, Ash was on her laptop at the table but looked up as I walked in. “Everyone’s done?” she asked, and I said, “Yeah.”

I rinsed the plates and put them in the dishwasher, then turned to face her and said, “What are you up to?” It wasn’t that I was really interested, but it felt rude to leave without saying anything else.

She sighed. “I’m trying to get some things on the calendar for the winter months. You have to book so early for the holiday season. People just get so busy, but they’re also in the mood to buy things.”

“True,” I said. “I can’t believe it’s November.”

She shook her head. “I know it. And then the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas goes like that.” She snapped her fingers.

“Always,” I said. This conversation was one I would’ve had with my mailman, which was depressing, and I wanted it to be over, for us to stop saying these generic things to each other.

“You’re leaving so soon,” she said.

“I know.”

“Do you know what you’ll do when you get back?”

“No clue. I thought I’d have a great idea while I was here, but no such luck.” I didn’t realize this was true until I said it out loud, that some part of me was hoping I’d figure out what I wanted to do with my career while I was in Texas. But I didn’t. Almost a whole year had passed and not one thing had changed — I still felt as ambivalent as ever.

“Well, I’m sure you could always go back to DCLOVE,” she said, and then laughed at the face I made. “Or you could come work with me. You could corner the jewelry market in DC.”

My answer was completely sincere. “I’m not sure I’d be any good at it,” I said. “I don’t have your charm.”

—

When we’d returned from the last trip, Matt had suggested that he and I move to a hotel on the Sunday before the election and stay there until it was over. “To give Jimmy and Ash some space,” he said, which was sort of a ridiculous idea since we’d been living in their house for the past ten months. Why would we give them space now? I knew the real reason was that he didn’t want to be there after Jimmy lost, that he thought it would be easier if we could go somewhere else that night.