“One hundred twenty-nine days to Election Day. It’s going to fly by.”
“Do you think we have enough time to get her in position to win?” Dot was hyperaware of the pressure they were under to help Lucy Lopez win Wisconsin. Kitty Bell was relentless, asking them for detailed updates every day, as if the only thing standing between her and a White House job—and a win bonus—was Cedar Falls in Colby County, USA.
“Right now, Wisconsin could go either way. But with Stone on the ticket, Kentucky could go blue, so that gives us a little cushion,” Fletcher said.
“I love that she picked Governor Stone, and not just for the eight electoral votes and how it scrambles the GOP’s map,” Dot said. “He really seems to truly support her. And their onstage chemistry is great.”
“No doubt. They seem to genuinely get along. Plus, if she can deliver Georgia and add sixteen more votes, our ten could put them over the top.” Fletcher kept a board with all the states that could flip red or blue, depending on how the polls were that week. The first week of July, the GOP was ahead by more than thirty votes. “In some ways more time might not help us,” he said. “The longer this goes on, the tougher it could get.”
“Well, when she’s here, we’ll have to make the most of it,” Dot said. They were preparing for the candidate’s event in Cedar Falls.
“What are you thinking we should have her do while she’s in town?” Fletch bounced a foam basketball off the wall as they talked.
“Well, she’s hitting her marks with younger voters, especially since even she had a tough time buying her first house,” Dot said. “So, I think we need to get her with the swing voters we’re targeting, as well as the farmers. I don’t see her moving too many rural voters yet.”
“Yeah. That’s a gap we need to fill.”
“Maybe we diner tour her through small towns between Milwaukee and Minneapolis? Or maybe out to one of dairies. Have her milk a cow?” Dot was just spitballing.
“Do you think that’s a good idea? If it went badly, the videos could crush her.”
“Good point. Maybe she could help can vegetables?”
“Is that too obvious? Like that meme of Hillary Clinton baking in the nineties. That one kills me.” Fletcher was king of memes.
“Yeah, you’re right. I just need something that gets her out of the ‘I’m a hot young Latina with great style and charisma’ vibe. Don’t you think?”
“Maybe a visit to a rural schoolhouse?” he asked.
“I like that. But it would probably be better once school starts up in the fall.”
“Good point. You’re always thinking, Dot.” He tapped his finger on the side of his head.
They laughed as she grabbed the ball out of the air and tried to sink a basket. “Air ball!” he said.
Dot really enjoyed working with Fletch, who was a cheerful colleague who pulled his weight, and they pushed through the next few hours of the workday.
After seven o’clock, Dot logged off her computer.
“Hey, Fletch, I’m going to get out of here. You okay locking up?” Over her arm, she threw the white cotton cardigan with the embroidered red roses on the trim that she’d paired with her sleeveless navy blue shift dress. She didn’t mention she was meeting up with Danny Dawson. He’d asked her to dinner to celebrate Reader Falls Bookshop’s amazing month since the remodel.
“No problem. Want to meet up for a drink later?” he asked.
Dot hesitated long enough that he jumped in before she could answer to fill the space.
“There’s a bunch of us going to the Sin Bin to watch Yankees-Brewers,” he explained. “Mimi is going to go over after she gets the bakery set for her early morning.”
“Is that baseball?” she bantered, relieved he wasn’t asking her for a date and seemed to be spending more time with Mimi.
“Soccer, actually,” he teased.
“I’ll pass. But let me know how many touchdowns they make.”
“It’s baskets,” Fletcher teased back. “Three-point homers from half-court.”
“Good to know. I’ll file that away for trivia night.”
She waved goodbye and searched in her bag for her light pink lip gloss. The humidity hit her fully in the face.