It’s the best high in the world, Charlotte thought to herself as a screaming crowd of more than twenty-five thousand supporters in Milwaukee chanted “Four more years” and the advance crew blasted a Shania Twain song so loudly Charlotte could feel the ground shaking beneath her.
Since she’d rejoined the “Conversation with America” tour, the rallies had grown larger and the crowds more enthusiastic by the day. Charlotte’s return had been kept a surprise until an hour before Air Force One touched down in Pensacola, Florida, five days earlier. When news had broken that she was en route from Washington, the crowd grew so fast the advance team had to build a second stage in an overflow arena.
Charlotte believed that politicians either loved the trail or hated it. She’d always loved it. Peter thought she loved it too much, but she knew voters responded to candidates who left everything they had on the campaign trail.
As she looked out at their faces—mothers standing with their daughters, couples holding hands, a group of men from a local construction site standing together with their hard hats on—she saw something different from what she’d seen four years ago. They were taking her measure, and their intensity crowded out the doubt that had crippled her since Roger died.
When the crowd refused her repeated attempts to quiet them down, she laughed and called Tara down from the bleachers behind her. They waved and pointed to signs from the mostly female supporters in the front rows that said “Women Do It Better” and “Kramer-Meyers on Nov. 4.”
Picking Tara as her vice-presidential nominee was a decision that Charlotte never revisited. Once she was on the ticket, Tara was a natural fit. Charlotte and Tara occupied the same dangerous swath of their respective parties: the center. As a result, they both had more enemies in their own parties than from across the aisle. They’d both been celebrated and vilified by the media, and they knew how to use the press without mistaking them for friends or allies. And they saw eye-to-eye on the issues Charlotte was most passionate about.
When the crowd finally quieted down, Tara returned to her seat.
“Let me tell you a little bit about the woman I picked to serve as my vice president,” Charlotte said to cheers from the crowd. “If we are fortunate enough to win on Election Day and to serve as your president and vice president for the next four years, we will do our best to protect you from harm. We will assemble the best business minds from across this land—not from places like Wall Street and Washington but from places like Reno, Nevada; Miami, Florida; and Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
The crowd roared again.
“Tara Meyers has a record of taking down and locking up those who threaten this great country,” Charlotte said. “Tara Meyers has a record of working across the aisle with members of both parties and of cracking heads when that’s what’s necessary to get things done on behalf of her constituents,” she said to even louder cheers. “And Tara Meyers has a record of putting the people she serves ahead of personal interests, political interests, and polite interests.” The crowd was on its feet.
Charlotte was wise enough not to make any attempts to emulate Tara’s toughness, but she did enjoy pumping up the crowd by talking up her running mate.
When they were back on the bus, Charlotte still felt the adrenaline in her blood.
“Sam, do you mind getting me some tea? Chamomile, if they have it,” she requested. “Melanie, what did you think? The crowd was really fired up.” Charlotte beamed.
“It was a good event,” Melanie said.
“If that’s good, honey, I can’t wait to see what you call great,” Tara said, plopping down onto the bench seat next to Charlotte.
Charlotte saw Melanie give her an annoyed look, but Tara didn’t appear to notice.
“You were awesome, Madam President,” Tara gushed.
“Please call me Charlotte, in here and out there,” Charlotte said, patting her knee warmly.
“You kicked some serious ass up there, Charlotte, am I allowed to say that?” Tara giggled.
Melanie glared at her and watched as Charlotte put her arm on Tara’s.
“Yes. It’s been a while since anyone has said that to me, but thank you, I think. That’s a compliment, right, Ralph?” Charlotte asked as Ralph joined the group, taking a seat next to Tara.
“Yes, Madam President. I just got the overnight poll numbers, and you are both kicking some serious what she said,” Ralph said, gesturing toward Tara.
Charlotte saw Melanie roll her eyes again.
“The overnights are unreliable, though, aren’t they, Ralph?” Melanie said. “I thought the only numbers that really tell us anything are the three night rolls.”
“Technically, that’s correct,” Ralph said, looking at Tara as he spoke. “But the overnights show our numbers moving among all categories of voters, and that’s a good trend even without the other two nights. Now, of course, Melanie’s right, and we won’t know for two more days whether this is a durable surge or just our numbers popping because of the debate last night or because of something in the news, but it’s still a good sign.”
“Beats an overnight dip in the numbers, right?” Tara said.
Melanie sighed loudly and started to make her way toward the front of the bus.
“Where are you going, Mel?” Charlotte asked.
“I’ll be right back. I just need to make a couple of calls.”
“Hurry back. We need to discuss the pros and cons of amending the no-campaign pledge here in the final weeks.”
Charlotte could see Melanie’s face tighten as she shot a nasty look at Ralph and Tara. Charlotte knew that Melanie felt threatened by her growing reliance on Ralph’s political judgment, but he had a better sense of what was going on outside Washington than Melanie did. What took Charlotte by surprise was the hostility she sensed that Melanie felt toward Tara.
“I wasn’t aware that we were seriously considering a reversal, but I’m happy to discuss it when I get back,” Melanie said before turning and walking toward the front of the bus.
Melanie and Ralph had bickered like siblings for the past three and a half years. Charlotte knew how to make both of them feel essential. But Melanie’s resentment toward Tara was something Charlotte hoped would dissipate.
Melanie was dead set against reversing course on the no-campaign pledge, but Charlotte had had a decent political radar of her own at one time, and every instinct told her that the voters would forgive her. She sensed that her supporters desperately wanted her to spend the final days blasting her opponent for smearing her record and attacking her personally. Now that she was out of Washington, she understood what Tara described in her nightly calls to Charlotte. The voters needed Charlotte to prove that she still had the stomach for the fights that would surely come if she was reelected.
As they’d made their way through Wisconsin, Michigan, Ohio, Colorado, and Nevada, the crowds continued to swell in size and intensity. And after some late-night number crunching from Ralph and some calls to Tara’s remaining political allies, they planned a surprise Northeast swing to make a play for New Jersey, New Hampshire, Maine, Connecticut, and New York. Ralph acknowledged that it was a long shot but thought it was worthwhile.
Two weeks on the campaign trail had sped by in a blur of bus trips, town halls, television interviews, radio shows, rallies, and debates. As Charlotte sipped her coffee and flipped through the front pages of the papers that the press office had assembled for her, she let herself reflect back on the turmoil of the previous six months. She thought about Peter out in San Francisco. He checked in with the twins frequently and passed along astute advice. Brooke and Mark had flown in the night before to join them for the final week on the road. She smiled at the thought of the twins and Brooke and Mark sitting behind her at all of the remaining events. If anyone could keep the mood light in the final days of a presidential campaign, they could. And her parents were planning to join them for the final weekend.
She’d be surrounded by people who would love her no matter what happened on Election Day. Increasingly, it looked as if she’d have her job for four more years.
Am I really up for doing this again? she thought to herself. She smiled. She knew the answer.