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business to town and you’ll increase the tax revenue. I’ve shown my commitment to this issue through the creation of the Vision Partnership. Mr. Kiester has shown his lack of commitment through inertia.” Rosie glanced at Kiester, the camera dutifully following her lead. He coughed nervously. Rosie continued. “We need to inject some life into this lackadaisical government. We need to get off our Kiester.” Rosie hit the podium with her fist. I laughed out loud.
“Isn’t she something?” I said after the debate.
“Mom,” Amy complained. “Enough already. People are gonna think Rosie’s your GF or something if you don’t cool it.”
My daughter got up from the couch, standing to her astonishing five feet nine, her lanky form slumped at the shoulders. Both of my children were tall, unlike me, and Amy was having a hard time accepting her attributes. For her sake, I hoped she had reached her full height. Already she wore only the flattest shoes she could find and her posture was suffering. Despite her awkwardness over her tall frame, however, she wasn’t the least bit shy.
“Well, don’t you think she’s impressive?” I said. “She’s the perfect role model for someone your age.”
Amy sang in a mocking voice, “She’s the tops, she’s the tower of pizza.”
“Pisa,” Jerry corrected.
“Really? I like it my way.” Amy tossed her head to throw her long hair out of her face.
“Hey, princess,” Jerry said, “how about taking all these newspapers and putting the bins out for pickup?”
“Yes, my lord and master,” Amy said with a low bow. “Your wish is my command.”
“Jerry,” I asked, as Amy took an armload of newspapers from the room, “are you going to vote for Rosie?”
“You know I am,” Jerry said. “You’d probably kick me out if I didn’t.”
“But wouldn’t you vote for her anyway?”
“Probably. It’s hard to know with you campaigning us to death. We’re getting a biased view.”
1
“Well, if you just look at the facts—”
Jerry held up a hand. “Whoa. Let’s not. I’m going to bed. Are you coming?”
I nodded. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
As soon as Jerry had gone, Amy returned, flung herself on the couch and switched stations to tune in to some reality show.
“You’re pretty sure Rosie’s going to win, Mom?” she asked.
“How could she lose against that imbecile?”
Amy tossed her long hair yet again and leaned her head on the back of the couch. “Yeah, she’ll probably win. Kiester is so gross. People are tired of seeing his face.”
This girl understands politics, I thought. “Don’t stay up too late. School tomorrow.” Before going to bed, I cleaned off the kitchen counter, except for the pile of Rosie propaganda at one end. There she was smiling up at me from a flyer with that magnetic personality. Seeing her image there, I couldn’t help but smile myself.
From the moment we met two months ago, I’d felt the special energy she radiated. “Welcome aboard, Jean,” she had said, shaking my hand heartily. Her presence was powerful.
When she looked at you, you knew she was seeing you, really seeing you. And she was honest and intelligent, so much more intelligent than Kiester. I didn’t suspect, when Faye coerced me into volunteering, that I would end up believing so firmly in my candidate, that I would want so much for her to win. I’d always assumed, like most people I knew, that politicians were self-serving manipulators. Rosie was exactly the opposite. She acted out of altruism. Her business, and the business of the community, seemed to be what she lived for. With no husband, no children, she gave herself over to public life.
Faye thought it would be good for me to get involved in something. “And you’ll be setting a good example for your daughter,” she said, a timely example, since this was Amy’s first election. That’s the way, Faye, hit a mother where it counts. I had argued at first about
Grace Slick, Andrea Cagan