Compromising Positions (25 page)

“You can always talk to me.”

“I should’ve remembered that.”

Michael’s happy laugh lines returned. “So tell me about this good news.”

“Well,” I said, smoothing out my skirt as I wallowed in pride. “You know that stupid Planned Parenthood amendment attached to that appropriations bill? It’s due out of committee any day. The minority whip asked me to lead the charge against it on the floor. He said that my work on our amendment showed I can carry a bill on my own. He likes the fact that I’m a moderate and can work with Republicans, and you know, this is personal for me.”

Michael’s face fell, and he didn’t speak for a moment as he straightened his back. “You mean the amendment to defund Planned Parenthood? That one?”

“Yes, the one to take away all of Planned Parenthood’s Title Ten money. What other one is there?”

“There isn’t. I was just hoping there was something else.”

“Why?”

He ran his hand through his hair in grim frustration. “Because I was asked this morning to lend my name and be part of the fight to support the amendment when the Dems try to strip it out on the floor.”

My mouth dropped open, and I gasped. “Did you say yes?”

“Of course.” His voice was flat and accompanied by a blank stare.

“Why on earth do you want to defund women’s health care?”

“It’s not about women’s health care. It’s a pro-life amendment. The money funds Planned Parenthood, which turns around and conducts abortions.”

“No, it doesn’t. The money goes to health care—yearly check-ups, breast exams, cancer screening, and contraception. It’s totally separate from any funds they raise privately for providing abortions, and there’s already a law barring them from using federal funds for abortions.”

“Money is fungible.”

“Please. These are separate issues. Why try and connect the two?”

“The pro-life movement sees it as one and the same. I always vote pro-life. You know that.”

I had to cover my mouth with my hand to silence myself from saying more. I was scrambling to grapple with what I’d just learned. It was hard enough to believe Michael had bought into the party line on Planned Parenthood, but I couldn’t believe he would do something against me, especially after what had happened that day between us.

My hand dropped from my face, and I raised the other, and put both hands together in a sign of prayer. “Can I reason with you?”

“Why are you doing this? We never try to talk each other out of a position.”

“We debate things all the time.”

“But never in a way to change the other’s opinion.”

“I don’t believe we’ve ever been in this situation before.” My stomach churned with anxiety as a real argument was brewing between us. Of course, we’d squabbled before, but those were easily dealt with. This seemed like something that could chip away at our relationship if it wasn’t handled properly.

Yet, while I was full of scary emotions, Michael seemed more at ease. He was all reason. “Maybe not, but it’s not so different from any other issue disagreement we have.”

“Yes, it is.”

“How so?”

I bit my lip and took a moment to order my words. “You know how important the abortion issue is to me. You know what I’ve gone through personally. You probably don’t know that I relied on Planned Parenthood for health care when I was young and had no money. I want to speak about these things openly on the House floor, and I’ll give personal testimony. You cannot be against me.” My voice lowered, and some disdain crept in. “Especially on an issue you’re ambivalent about.”

“I’m not ambivalent on abortion.” He wore an indignant frown. “You know I have a perfect voting record on the issue.”

Fire blazed in my chest in reaction to his cold distance about the subject, and I couldn’t control my ire. “This is not about a fucking voting record. This isn’t even a party line vote. There are plenty of Republicans who support Planned Parenthood and think this amendment is bullshit.”

“If it’s not about my votes, then what is it about?” he asked with exasperation.

“I’ve never said this point blank to you before, but I will now. When we talked months ago, you said you would feel guilty, you thought it was Stacy’s choice if she had an abortion.”

“That’s deep down how I feel personally, but that doesn’t mean it’s my public position.”

“Which is unbelievable!” I exclaimed.

“Why?”

“Because it’s hypocritical and unethical.” I held my breath as the words hung in the air. I’d basically just called him a hypocrite, but on this issue, I believed he was doing a disservice to his own beliefs.

Michael’s expression hardened as if I’d crossed a line with him. “Don’t tell me you’ve never taken a position or cast a vote that deep down you didn’t believe in.”

“Of course I have. We all have, but this is a matter of life and death.”

“Spare me the drama, okay?”

I stammered in anger, “I cannot believe you just said that to me.”

“Well, I did.” He sounded exasperated. “I don’t think you need to elevate the importance of one vote, or one amendment like this. This legislation will never see the light of day in the Senate or ever be signed into law by this president.” His exasperated tone then took on a hint of paternalism. “I think you’re making a big deal out of something very small and inconsequential in the long run.”

I stared at him in silence. Who was this man? I’d seen his cool, calculating side many times before. It never bothered me because I also had one. I had understood his motivations, but now I couldn’t understand how, on such an emotional and personal issue for me, he was so distant. I closed my eyes, centering myself as I tried to diffuse the situation without giving up any ground. When I opened my eyes, I said, “This may be small to you, but it’s big to me.”

“How is this any different than if I carry a bill about changing some banking law and you publicly oppose it? I promise you I would not be reacting the way you are now.”

“Banking!” There went my attempt at calm. “You’re equating the issue of control over a woman’s body and our health care with
banking
?”

“Okay. Not that example. Let me think a minute.” He sighed and furrowed his brow in thought. “I have one, and it’s connected.”

“What is it?”

“One of the things I’m proud of is that I’m a Republican with a perfect voting record when it comes to issues important to the Catholic Church. I support a safety net for the poor, I’m pro-life, I’m against the death penalty, and I have a perfect environmental record.”

“And?”

“So, we both support helping the poor…”

“Except for your support of some of those crazy GOP budget’s that say ketchup is a vegetable in poor kids’ school lunches.”

“Give me a break. Like you don’t vote for spending bills that have things in them that you disagree with. You’re taking this too far, Jessie.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” I said with a huff. I didn’t like that he had a good point. “What else?”

“As I was saying, we both want to help the poor, but in contrast, you’re for abortion rights and actually don’t have a perfect environmental record.”

“If you had the mining industry in your white collar suburban district, you wouldn’t mind mining on public land either.”

“That’s really not fair to me. There are plenty of Republicans in districts just like mine who have horrible environmental records.”

I was unimpressed, so I remained silent.

“Moving on then,” he said with a slight roll of his eyes. “You’re pro-death penalty. I’m not, and I bet if you met some of the people on death row, you wouldn’t want to see them dead.”

“So what? My dad is in the military,” I said with an annoyed shrug. “It’s how I was raised.”

“Exactly my point!”

“It’s not the same…”

“Yes, it is.”

I placed my head in my hands, desperate to find a way to break through to him. When I looked up, I moved closer so my face was inches from his and I took his hand. “Then let’s not debate policy or political motivations. Let’s just talk about us and what you opposing me on the House floor is going to do to us.”

He kissed my hand. “It shouldn’t do
anything
to us, Jessie.” With a chuckle, he added, “In fact, we’ll look great. It will prove that we don’t have any pillow talk.”

“This isn’t funny. How can you laugh at a time like this? Don’t you want to support me? This is personal to me—to my beliefs, to my life choices, and to my career.”

“I love you, but you’re not thinking about me. How will it look if I back out of working on this amendment and go so far as to change my vote?”

I became snide. “It will look like you actually considered the situation and brought your vote in line with your actual beliefs.”

Clearly, I’d touched a nerve because he dropped my hand and was quiet for a minute. “This is a circular argument we’re having.”

“Maybe it is.”

“Can we drop it for now?” he asked, his tone softening.

“We can, but this is coming up soon.”

“I know.” He checked his watch and grimaced. “But now it’s too late to talk.”

The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I held them for a moment. I knew if I said it aloud, everything would change between us, at least for the time being. I stared down and slowly realized that everything
had
changed between us, and events well beyond our control would confront us soon enough. Still staring at nothing, I said, “I think you should leave tonight.” I raised my head and looked him in the eye. “We probably both need some space.”

Michael pulled back in confusion, as though he completely disagreed with me. “If you say so,” he eventually mumbled. Then, quicker than I could comprehend, he kissed me on the cheek and strode to the door. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Michael

The following morning, I rifled through papers on my desk, though I made no order of them. I was looking for a particular memo on Social Security, but my mind was still engrossed in the conversation with Jessie from the night before. In less than twenty-four hours, our happy, strong relationship, which previously appeared to have no end, had careened into an impenetrable wall.

When Jeff entered the room with coffee in his hand, he was cheery, but quickly got to the point. “So what’s up? We never meet in the office on a Sunday morning.”

“No, no we don’t.” In frustration, I tossed a ream of papers into the recycling, though they might have actually been important. “I wish we weren’t meeting like this, but I need some advice, and the office seemed like the appropriate place for it.”

“You didn’t feel comfortable in your place or mine?” Jeff asked, taking a seat on the sofa.

“Not for this issue. I wanted to be someplace where I’d feel grounded.”

Jeff’s brow knitted. He clearly didn’t understand why the topic was so different. I knew I was springing something new on him. We talked about a myriad of issues at all hours of the day in a thousand different places, both in person and electronically. An out-of-the-blue talk on a Sunday morning in my office was unusual, to say the least. Jeff set his coffee down. “What’s going on? Are you having issues with the leadership? Or is it about Stacy?”

“No. Not at all. It’s about Jessie,” I said, as I stood up to join him in the sitting area. After I had sat down, I recapped the entire conversation with Jessie, leaving nothing out. I even went so far as to divulge Jessie’s personal history, making him swear to keep it private. Jeff already knew what had happened with Stacy, but when I told him Jessie’s story, he was visibly surprised. “Wow,” he said. “I’d never have suspected that.”

With all the details out in the open, I sat stone-faced despite all my emotions. “I’m pretty torn up about this,” I said. “I don’t want to lose Jessie, and that’s all I can think of since I left her place. I know I need to set the personal aside for the moment and also think about what will happen to me professionally. That’s why I wanted to meet here. I need to hear from you what you think will happen to me politically.”

Jeff nodded his head like he had been given orders, and he had to prioritize their execution. He took a sip of coffee and said, “Let’s go through a few scenarios then. I’ll tell you where I think everyone will come down on each one. Then, if you want, we can talk about what your personal fallout might be.”

“Great. Shoot.”

“Of course, the easiest option for you is to go ahead with what you agreed to yesterday. You sign on to the dear colleague letter and help whip the issue within the caucus, plus you speak on the floor.”

I swallowed hard at the thought. Without an about-face from Jessie, if I proceeded as I’d promised the leadership, it could mean the end of my relationship with her. I muttered aloud, “That’s just so hard with Jessie, though...”

Jeff held up a hand as if to stop his boss’s emotions from spinning out of control. “Let’s talk about the personal side of things in a moment. I think it will be easier if we go through these things separately.”

“Okay. Go on.”

“Another scenario is that you go back to the leadership immediately and say you miscalculated things. Say you think you should keep a lower profile on the issue and that you shouldn’t be a visible opponent of Planned Parenthood, given how contentious the issue is. I think they’d cut you some slack. Your district is moderate, and women’s issues are important there. Though the constituents elected you knowing your pro-life position, you’ve taken a beating in the press over your divorce. The leadership might understand if you want to stay out of a controversial fight that focused on women.” But as I nodded in agreement, Jeff gave me a stern reminder. “Of course, you would still vote against Planned Parenthood—and Jessie—even if you don’t work the vote.”

“Right.” I was grim again.

“The final one is to withdraw your support of the issue altogether. This means not only some long, hard conversations with the leadership, but also some difficult ones with the National Pro Life Committee, faith groups, and a ton of others. It can be done, but it would be difficult and damaging to you.”