98

IT WAS A VERY stressful but interesting Friday afternoon for Richardson, and she was telling Terry Reardon all about it as they sat in a booth at Player’s Corner Pub. The place was rapidly filling with the “Thank God It’s Friday” crowd.

“I mean, what it comes down to, is that I was being grilled by the seven most powerful men at the Herald—and they are all men, as you know—about the ten major candidates in the election. First, Sacco and Whitley for the Senate, then Williston and Droney and their opponents for the House seats. I thought Singer and Fiore would come next, but they reversed it and discussed lieutenant governor ahead of them. It was really exhausting, Terry, almost four hours without a break.”

“What kinds of things did they want to know?” he asked.

“What didn’t they want to know,” she replied. “It was absolutely everything, from whether the candidate seemed to have a vision for the future, to what I thought about his or her view on a particular issue; how I sized up the important people on their staffs; whether I trusted one candidate over another; how they came across when they spoke to an audience; whether they looked me in the eye when I interviewed them, etcetera, etcetera. They were interested in intelligence, character, articulateness, sincerity … you name it, they asked about it. And when you’re sitting there looking at the publisher, the executive editor, the managing editor, two assistant managing editors, the editorial page editor, and Dan McMurphy, you better have all the answers ready.”

“Were they asking each other questions too?”

“There was just a little bit of that while I was there. Most of what they said was in picking up on some of my comments. But I could see that when they finished with me, they were about to start going at it among themselves over who they’d endorse on Sunday.”

“Would I be right in guessing that you had more questions thrown at you about governor than the others?”

“Easily, that’s probably why they saved it for last.”

“Any comments from them on that one?”

“Some nice words from the big boss on my staying with the Cardella story, but also a couple of warnings about how we were operating a little fast and loose on the potential libel issue. Overall, I’d say they gave me from an A-minus to a B-plus.”

“And who do they figure you’d like to see them endorse for governor, or do I risk getting my lights punched out by asking?” Terry put his hands up in front of his face, as if protecting himself.

“They definitely know I’m in Singer’s corner,” she said, “although they don’t seem to understand why Fiore’s too slick as far as I’m concerned. I guess you have to be there. But I’ll tell you what I got the biggest kick out of. It’s the way they go through it to reach their decisions, how much effort goes into it. They have the assistant managing editors draft the language for the Herald ’s potential endorsement of every candidate in the race. Each draft is edited, photographed, and put on a press plate, ready to run if they decide to use it. Everyone at the meeting had a paper copy of all the endorsements. When I got through answering their questions about the Senate race, for example, they asked me to read the endorsements for Sacco and Whitley. All they wanted to know was whether there was anything in either one that I would change if I could choose one candidate over the other.”

“Hmm, ve-dy-in-tu-res-ting,” Terry said, mimicking the character of the German soldier he remembered from the old Laugh In TV shows, “but shtupid, yah?”

“No, it’s actually a great idea,” Jenna answered. “It forces you to look for every good point you can find in a candidate. Then, when you read the whole thing, it gives you a feeling about whether that person really adds up to much. They had me do the same thing for each of the five races. And do you know what, Terry? The only place you find two people who are equal to each other in just about every way is in the governor’s race. I wish you had seen the endorsements for both Singer and Fiore, but I had to leave them there, of course. Oh well, you’ll get to read one of them on Sunday.”

“And that reminds me,” he said, resting his arms on the table and slowly moving his head forward, like a turtle cautiously emerging from its shell, “were you giving some thought to getting laid tonight?”

Jenna looked at him blankly, let out a deep breath as if his question had totally annoyed her, and shook her head warily from side to side. But Terry knew from the smile that began to appear on her face that she wasn’t saying “No.”

* * *

It was the first time in years that Sal Tarantino was still in his office after three o’clock on a Friday afternoon. But as much as he wanted to get an hour or two on the golf course before going home, there was an election coming up in four days and final plans needed to be put in place.

Sandy was on the telephone all morning with many of their contacts around the State. They discussed weather forecasts for Tuesday, the most recent local polling results and plans for transporting Fiore supporters to the voting booths. With each of them, Sandy stressed the need for as many campaign workers as possible to be on the streets with Fiore signs. They were to start on Saturday morning and not stop until all the polling places closed at eight o’clock on election night.

The two Tarantinos walked over to the Blue Grotto for a quick lunch. Each ordered mussels marinara, a small salad and coffee. While they ate, Sandy gave his father all the latest information, along with some details on what the final days of the campaign would cost.

“I thought those drivers and sign carriers were all volunteers,” Sal told his son.

“I did too, Pop, until the bills came in after the primary. They get as many college kids as they can, at no cost, but then they have to use a small army of moonlighters at five bucks an hour.”

Still, a lot of the news was good, and Sal was excited. Richardson’s story about the Tarantino family started his day off on the right foot. “We’re still in the fight, Salvy, so we’ve got to give it everything. I’ll get on the phone when we get back and tell those guys to spend whatever it takes. It sure would feel good to have the governor in our pocket if we need him.”