Girl Power (12 page)

states that a woman's egg becomes a person at the moment of conception, or

when they create a seventy-two hour waiting period for an abortion to proceed

or a twenty week cutoff for abortions, which in Arizona, starts from the

beginning of a woman's last period. Mr. Magnon, the list goes on and on. Did

you know there have been hundreds of anti-abortion bills proposed or passed in

various states since the Republican landslide of 2010?"

Crowe ran his hands through his hair, giving him time to think.

This is what I was afraid of. This is why they say Rose Maddock is the Big No, No!

A few seconds passed as he contemplated his response.

"Mr. Magnon?"

"Yes, I heard you."

"There is a Republican war on women, isn't there? Be truthful."

"No!" His nose tickled and he scratched it.

"You remember how we talked about law enforcement official doubting the

existence of coincidence in relation to crime?"

"Yes!"

"Well, when it comes to politics, I believe there are no coincidences. I don't know why you're doing it—especially in an election year, it makes no sense—but

the overwhelming evidence points to a coordinated and concerted, large-scale,

unwarranted,
war on women."

"No, no. Please, don't say that. Trust me. We are not waging a war on

women. Arrrghhh." All at once, a second, more intense tearing pain shot through Crowe's nose. He reached up to his nose with both hands, and squeezed tightly

in an unsuccessful attempt to keep it from growing.

"Are you all right? What's wrong?"

"My nose, my nose!"

"What?"

Crowe glanced at Rose who was wide-eyed. "Ahhhheeeeaaa! My nose, it's

killing me. Can't you see it?" He couldn't believe it. His nose felt longer than his erect penis. "A mirror. Do you have a mirror?"

"Why?"

"To see my nose. I can't stand it, the ripping and tearing, the bones moving around."

"Behind you."

Crowe turned and saw a floor to ceiling mirrored wall. He jumped off his

stool and ran up to it.
Oh my God, it must be a foot long and I'm on national
television.

~ * * ~

Crowe turned to Rose. "I gotta go."

"Where?" Rose asked, puzzled at her guest's bizarre behavior.

"To the emergency room."

Rose shook her head in disbelief as he ran out.

"Folks, I have had at least a thousand guests since I've been host of this

show and this, without a doubt, is the strangest interview I've ever given.

"I have the distinct impression that he thought his nose was growing." Rose smiled. "You don't think the Republican National Committee Chairman would

lie to us, would he?"

~ * * ~

As soon as Crowe left Rose's studio, the pain and the tearing sensation

subsided. He ran into a men's room and gazed into the mirror. There was

nothing there! His straight Roman nose, except for being a little red from his

manhandling, was as it had always been.

Crowe was flummoxed. He flashed back through the unmanly scene he

caused and became mortified. At least he didn't run to the nearest hospital

emergency room and make a complete ass of himself. Correction. He already

made a total ass out of himself in front of a National TV audience. Now, he

needed some damage control. A big bandage on his nose and a clever cover story

ought to take care of it.

~ * * ~

Nobody said anything the next day, but the way people glanced away or

smirked as he approached, Crowe had the ominous feeling he was the butt of

numerous water cooler jokes. Admittedly, the interview with Rose Maddock was

a disaster. Somehow, he had to redeem himself—but how?

Crowe picked up his phone and punched in a number. "Yes, Boss."

"Good morning, Willie Joe. Would you come in here?"

"Be there in a sec."

Fifteen minutes later Willie Joe sauntered into Crowe's office, a smug look

planted on his face. He pushed his favorite chair a couple feet from Crowe's

desk, plunked down in it, plopped his feet on the desk and flashed a, 'what you

gonna do about it', smile. Staring at Crowe's nose, Willie Joe asked, "What's that thing that looks like a sock on your nose, Boss?"

"It's not a sock. Are you blind? It's a bandage."

Willie scrutinized Crowe's office as if figuring out how he'd rearrange the

furniture. "What'cha wearing a sock-like bandage for, Boss?"

The derogatory way he said
boss
and the way he sized up his office, gave Crowe the impression Willie Joe believed he was a short-timer. "Right in the middle of my interview with that Maddock bitch, a blood vessel broke. God it

was painful."

A lopsided smirk formed on Willie Joe's face. "Oh. And how did the show

go, Boss?"

"Not so good. Didn't you watch it?"

"Nahhh. I swore I'd never watch that communist propagandizing network.

Besides, Mondays are my bowling nights. We won three games. In second place

now." He watched it. His whole manner screams he watched and his whole

insides are giggling.

"Congrats."
You ungrateful piece of Mississippi mud.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." If his dumb ass wasn't my sister's deadbeat husband…

Willie Joe stuck a finger up a nostril and reamed his nose.

Eeewwww! Crowe cringed and handed him a Kleenex. "Thanks."

Crowe leaned back in his seat and cupped his hands. "You're welcome. Tell

me, Willie Joe, do you believe in our lord, Jesus Christ?"

He dipped an eyebrow and pursed his lips. "Of course I do."

"That's nice. You do know many of the things Jesus is known for are

communal?"

"What do you mean?"

"Healing the sick, feeding the hungry, taking from the rich and giving to the poor."

Willie Joe winced and scratched his neck just below the ear. "Wasn't that

Robin Hood, who stole from the rich?"

Overlooking the fact that he'd recently called Winfred Opry a communist

bitch, Crowe nodded and went on, "Ah-huh, Jesus, Robin Hood, and Zorro, they were all communists."

Willie Joe's brow furrowed deep. "What are you saying? That Jesus would

watch that communist network over Wolf News?"

"It's possible. Jesus might find more in common with Fair News than Wolf

News, but that's beside the point. What I'm saying is, it's not a good idea to label things."

Willie Joe cocked his head and pursed his lips. "Hmm, never thought about

it like that."

"Well you should. Now, have we found anything out about the Cummings

and Rollins women, yet?"

"Cummings, so far she's squeaky clean, but we're digging deep. They did

find out a juicy one about the Rollins woman, though."

Crowe waited for him to continue and when he didn't, Crowe prompted

him. "Yeah. What?"

Willie Joe cast a huge grin. "She's a queen."

Crowe was puzzled. "Queen? Queen of what? Who?"

"You know, a homo?"

Shaking his head Crowe corrected him. "Willie, queen usually refers to an

effeminate, gay man."

Willie suddenly found something of interest in the ceiling. "Uh, I guess I

meant, lesbo. Our sources say she's not blatant about it, but she likes chicks."

Crowe sighed, "That's good Willie, but being gay doesn't have the oomph,

the pizzazz it had ten tears ago. Especially, if the subject isn't hiding it. Just keep working on it, everyone has secrets."

~ * * ~

"Hello?"

"Hi, Dillon. This is Sally Cummings."

"Hi, Sally. Are you and Lindy all set for tomorrow morning?"

"Oh yes. I can't speak for Lindy, but I keep pinching myself to make sure

I'm not dreaming. Dinner with Winfred tomorrow and then the main guest on

her show the following morning. Ooh, it's flat out unbelievable."

"Don't underestimate your importance Sally. You are a rising star."

"Yes with a lot of help from Winfred. I can't thank her enough. Dillon, I

called for a reason."

"Yes?"

"We have brought in a seasoned campaign strategist to run our party."

"That's good, who is she?"

Sally snickered. "She's a he. We hired Lee Casey and we'd like to bring him on the show if it's all right."

"I think that'll be fine. I hope I'll be able to get a third room."

"If you can't, don't worry Lindy and I can double up."

Chapter Nine – Dinner

To lodge all power in one party and keep it there is to insure bad government

and the sure and gradual deterioration of the public morals. -
Mark Twain

Like before, Dillon Reed picked them up the next day in a shiny black

limousine at Midway Airport.

"Where are going?" Lindy asked.

"Same as last time—the Ritz Carlson."

Sally joined her hands. "Oh good, that was wonderful."

"Let's hope so. I'm afraid I was unable to secure a third room on such short notice and I'm going to have to take you up on your suggestion that you and

Lindy share one of the rooms."

"That'll be fine, won't it Lindy?"

Lindy looked concerned for a second, but smiled. "As long as you don't

snore."

~ * * ~

That evening, Dillon picked them up in the limo for dinner. About twenty

minutes later, the driver dropped them off at Tratorria, a 5-star Italian Restaurant in downtown Chicago. Once inside, Dillon led them through the dining area to a

private room where Winfred sat at an extravagantly decorated table. When

Winfred saw them, a warm smile lit her face. Rising, she embraced and cheek

kissed Sally and then Lindy. "Has it only been five days? It seems so much

longer." Then she turned and held out her hand. "And you must be the new addition."

Lee took her hand in both of his. "I am. I'm Lee Casey."

Her smile widened. "Oh, I know who you are. You ran President Reynold's

campaign and despite the odds, brought him to victory for two terms."

He grinned. "Believe me, it was the candidate who did it. He was a natural

born politician."

"And a fairly good president considering he was a Republican. But you're

too modest, Lee. Tell me, how did you, a man, and a dedicated Republican, end

up with our women's movement? You're not, by any chance, a plant sent out by

the right to sabotage our movement, are you?"

He chuckled and patted Winfred lightly on the shoulder. "Hardly, my niece

would kill me if I did, though I wouldn't put something like that past the

hardened, unreasonable, scoundrels who now run the former 'Grand Old Party'."

"Your niece?"

"Yes, Kelly." Lee's eyes brightened when he mentioned her name. "Beautiful girl. I believe she's SAFE's Chairwoman for Fundraising." He turned to Lindy.

"Right?"

"Right you are, on both counts—Kelly's in charge of our fundraising and

she's gorgeous. She's also our treasurer."

"She sounds delightful. I'll have to meet her." Winfred glanced over her shoulder. "Shall we be seated?"

The party took their seats with Sally and Lindy on one side of Winfred and

Lee and Dillon on the other. As the waiter filled everyone's wineglasses, Winfred said, "I hope you don't mind. In order to expedite things, I ordered the specialties of the house for everyone. Lobster bisque for the first course, next will be their special Caesar salad. The entrée will be Osso Buco." She joined her hands and put them to her breast. "Now that I have you all to myself, I'm just bubbling over with questions to ask."

Sally took a sip of the wine and signaled with her flute, "Ask away. That's what we're here for—to answer questions, on and off camera."

"Well put." Winfred turned her attention toward Lee. "Lee. Can I call you Lee?" He lifted his head and posed a warm smile. "Of course."

"Good." She paused and glanced at everyone at the table. "We're all friends here, and I want all of you to call me Win, Winnie or Winfred if you must, but

please don't call me Fred."

After a few seconds of laughter, Lee asked, "Win, now that I can speak

again, what was it you wanted to ask me."

Winfred raised her hand, forefinger extended. "Two things really. I'm

curious, about something you said."

Lee cocked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yes, you referred to Republicans as the former 'Grand Old Party' and said

their leadership was something like 'hardened, unreasonable, scoundrels'."

"I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

"I'm not," Winfred exclaimed. "Look, I just said we're all friends here and I mean it. If I may be bold enough to include myself, we are all endeavoring in a

new movement that is infinitely important, to not only women, but our society as a whole. You are the leadership of that movement and I intend to be a strong

part of the movement. Think of me like a Pink Koch Sister."

Once again, laughter erupted around the table, this time lasting longer.

When everyone had stopped laughing, Winfred continued, "I'm sorry it just

popped out. This is a serious discussion and I shouldn't have said that. "My point is I feel very strongly about this movement. It has got to work and the best

chance it has to work is if we are honest about our thoughts and feelings and

share them with each other."

Lee set his hand on Winfred's wrist. "Win, you also asked me what a

dedicated republican like me was doing in a women's movement so, if I may, I'm

going to answer that question first."

"Go ahead."

"I am a center-right moderate or, as they used to call us in the old days—a Progressive Republican. In my day, which wasn't really that long ago, there were differences between Republicans and Democrats, but they weren't