The Arrangement (20 page)

“What kind of changes do you propose?”

Michael leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him. “I want to see our community become a neighborhood again. I want to see people at our parks in the evenings. I want to see people walking their dogs in their neighborhood and getting to know their neighbors. Our population has doubled in the last ten years, yet we have not changed anything. Our police force needs extra training, and we need more officers. We need new playground equipment for our park, along with an after-school program for children whose parents work until five or six o’clock.

“And we need to revise our policies on subdivisions so we can control the kind of building happening in our community. We are growing at a wonderful rate, but if we do not control it and shape it purposefully, we’ll have a hodge-podge community where no one knows anyone.” Michael’s dark eyes glittered with emotion.

“You’ve really given this some thought, haven’t you?” Eli responded.

Michael nodded. “I started thinking about it a year or so ago when we went on vacation. We visited a great little town in Florida where they are very selective about what businesses and homes they allow and how those buildings are built. And I think we are in a place to be selective, too, since so many people are beginning to show an interest in our community.”

“You’ve got some great ideas. Have you started fundraising or mapping out your strategy?” Eli realized the strategy might seem a little over the top for a local campaign, but even running for election on the local level took money for signs, flyers, and newspaper ads. He felt sure some of the community members would contribute, and he hated to see Michael spend all his savings or, worse, go into debt for the campaign.

“Actually, no,” Michael confessed. “I kind of hoped you might help me out with that part if you weren’t thinking about running.”

“Sure,” Eli agreed. He’d watched his father campaign all his life. Surely he could help his friend scrounge up a few dollars and run a strong campaign. “What did you have in mind?”

“That’s where I wanted you to help. I’ve got some great ideas, and I’m a good businessman, but I have no idea about politics. You’ve raised money and seen what works in campaigns, so what do you suggest?”

Eli crinkled his forehead. “When do you have to qualify?”

“March.”

“That gives us a little over four months to get the petition signed, raise some money, and create a plan. I think that’s doable. The first thing we need to do is start some buzz about the possibility of you running—you know, see how people react initially….” Eli’s mind spun with ideas for how to get his friend elected. He didn’t want to go overboard, but he knew if he attached his name to even a small election it would write itself forever on his political biography.

For the next hour he and Michael brainstormed about contributors. When Michael left, Eli knew he and his friend had a long road ahead, but the excitement of being back in a political match-up invigorated him.

He wanted to start scribbling notes about potential funders, platform strategies, and marketing ideas, but work cases demanded his attention. When he turned off the light to his office at 6 p.m., exhaustion tugged on him from all sides. He longed to remove his tie and lounge on the couch, watching a ballgame for a few hours. But he had promised his mother he would have dinner with her and knew she would be disappointed if he canceled. As he walked to his car he dialed Michael Hudson and smiled as he heard Michael’s voice mixed with that of his wife and two grade-school-aged sons inviting him to leave a message.

“Hi Michael, it’s Eli. I’ve thought about what we talked about this morning and have some ideas. Call me when you can.” And he flipped the phone back into his pocket.

Evie.
Her name flitted through his consciousness as he heard the echo of the carefree family from Michael’s message.
She would love this campaign idea. It would be the perfect learning experience for her right in her own hometown.
He almost reached for his cell again.

No,
the voice inside his head argued.
You agreed to give her some space. If God intends this for you, he’ll work it out.
He continued to argue with himself as he reached his car and started the ignition.

“Maybe he’s given me this opportunity as an open door to call her, a reason to talk to her,” he countered out loud. “What am I doing?” He hung his head. “I’m arguing with myself, a true sign I have lost it.”

He attempted to dislodge the image of her smooth blond hair sparkling in the fall sunlight and her blue eyes dancing with happy emotion one minute and hard with seriousness a second later. He wished to remember the way her hand felt warm in his but knew if he could remember it, he would want nothing more than to hold that hand again. “It’s better this way,” he mumbled as he pulled into the driveway of his mother’s house.

Old wooden steps groaned and creaked, causing him to step more lightly as he walked quickly to the front porch covered in flaking white paint.
I’ve got to get someone up here to repaint this place,
he thought as he surveyed the house and porch to find the paint peeling in several locations.

“Hi, Mom,” he called from the foyer as he hung his jacket on a hook of the antique hall tree. He rolled his head back and forth to ease the kinks out of his neck as he roamed through the house toward the kitchen, where he smelled barbeque sauce.

“It’ll be ready in five minutes,” his mother promised without looking up.

Eli smiled as he watched her rake the last drippings from the slow cooker onto the meat. “What can I do to help?”

“Grab the buns from the pantry and whatever kind of chips you want.”

“So, what’s for dessert?” he asked as she set the table.

His mother moved the platter of meat to the bar. “And why do I have to have a dessert? Isn’t dinner enough for you?” she teased.

“I know you,” he returned. “You can’t stand not to have something sweet on the table.”

“You know me too well,” she agreed as she placed one hand on either side of his cheeks and looked into his eyes. “I made a strawberry swirl cake. But you’ll have to eat a good dinner to have a piece of it.” She laughed.

“That doesn’t look like it will be too hard.” The two settled onto the bar stools and, after giving thanks, ate steaming barbeque sandwiches.

“I’m thinking about going back to school,” his mother announced as he took his first bite.

He stopped with his fork in midair. “O-kay…what brought that on?”

“I started out as a housewife about thirty years ago, and when you went to school, your dad needed me to keep up the social aspect of his political career. I had little time for college or work as long as he needed me to help with his career. In many ways, it wasn’t just his career but mine as well. I was a career politician’s wife.” She took a deep breath. “Well, I’m not a politician’s wife anymore. I have to do something, or I will lose my mind. Knocking around these walls all day while my friends are at work is driving me crazy.”

“That makes sense,” Eli agreed. He never really thought about her career. She was always home when he got in from school and attended a lot of functions with his dad. When his father died and she decided to move back to Duncan, he just presumed she would get involved with the charities like she did when they were in D.C.

“So what do you plan to study?” he asked.

“I thought I would take a few classes in event planning and business. I’m a great cook, and I’m great at planning parties.”

“When do you plan to start?”

“The next semester begins in January, so probably then. I’ve already gotten a schedule book from the admissions office at the university, and I’m planning to talk to them about the classes next week.”

“Mom,” he started, knowing the question he wanted to ask but not sure if he really wanted her answer, “were you happy working for Dad all those years?”

She chewed thoughtfully for several minutes. “Yes. I’m not sure I would use
happy
to describe every moment, but I was content. I had a love for the work your father did. I wanted to see him succeed, and I knew I could do something to make that happen. I never really gave much thought to a career for myself. I was his support system, and that was a career in itself.”

“Do you remember Michael Hudson?” Eli asked. A second later he realized how strange his sudden shift in topics would seem to her.

She nodded. “You two would get together every time we came back to visit or campaign and get into trouble.”

Eli smiled, remembering when they had to call her to pick them up across town because they’d been caught throwing water balloons at the girls softball team during practice. The coach wouldn’t let them leave until she talked to one of their parents. Since Michael’s parents were both at work, they called his mom. “Yeah, maybe that’s not the best thing to bring up right now,” he suggested with a grin.

“Why?” She frowned.

“He came by the office today. He wants to run for mayor next year.”

His mother’s eyes widened. “Really? Little Mikey in politics?”

“Mom, you were the only person who ever called him that. And yes, he thinks he wants to do local politics,” he added as he pushed the last bite of sandwich into his mouth.

“Why did he tell you all this? I didn’t know you were close again since you moved back.”

“We’re not really close. But he had heard some rumors that I intended to run, and he wanted to make sure I wasn’t planning to jump in the race before he started his campaigning.” He strained his neck to see over the bar for a glimpse of the cake his mother had promised him.

She chuckled and walked across the room to take the lid off a long pan. She returned and set the dessert in front of him. “Where in the world do people get their ideas?” she mused.

“I don’t know. I guess when a congressman’s son comes back to town, people start to think,
Hey, there’s no state election for two more years, so what will he do so he’s not forgotten in the political arena?”
He shook his head. “But why would a lawyer leave D.C. if he wasn’t planning on starting small? Mayor of Duncan is pretty small.”

“They aren’t completely off the wall, are they? I mean, that is why you moved back here and went to work for your father’s old firm, right? You do intend to get back into politics eventually.” She stopped eating to watch her son smush the soft cake with his fork and put it into his mouth.

He sighed. “I don’t know, Mom. This isn’t what I expected when I went to law school. But I’m working, and I’m helping people, and that’s what God calls us to do, right? Help people and be his light. Do I have to have an elected office to do that?”

“No, Eli, you don’t have to be elected to serve God or other people for that matter. But if God has given you a gift and the connections, don’t you think you should use them?”

“Has he really given me a gift beyond being able to map out a campaign? And is that a gift or just years of watching Dad’s professional campaign guys do it?” he questioned her.

“What does your heart say?” She peered into his eyes.

He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. One day I think about how simple life seems, so carefree just going to work and going home. I dream about having a family and going to dinner without all the interruptions of voters wanting a minute of my time…and how wonderfully idealistic that kind of life must be. Then I think about how bored I would be after a while. How I would surely long for the days in Washington, the rubbing elbows and knowing I’m making a difference. I do have connections other people don’t have. Am I obligated to use those connections, or can I simply spend my days helping a few people here and there with insignificant legal issues and enjoy a quiet life?” Eli rambled. He hadn’t revealed his confusion to anyone except God, and he felt a little ignored by him at the moment.

“Have you prayed about it?”

Eli gave her a half-smile. “Yeah, but I’m not getting any answers.”

“Well, then, keep praying about it. When God is ready for you to do something different, he’ll let you know. If you are really seeking his will, praying and reading his Word, you’ll hear when he speaks.” She squeezed his hand. “Who knows? Maybe God intends for you to use your skills and connections to help other willing candidates get elected. Maybe he’s giving you a taste of it with Michael’s campaign.”

“Maybe,” he hedged. The thought had crossed his mind, but he’d hesitated to consider it. Isn’t that what Evie wanted to do—help good men and women get elected? Could God be using this direction to ultimately bring them back together?

But if he thought about it, he might try to make it happen without God’s consent. If they were going to end up together, he wanted it to be God’s doing, not his own. For now, he had to concentrate on the work ahead.

“Mom,” he said as he shifted gears again, “do you still have any of Dad’s old campaign stuff, like the letters he sent to donors, posters, flyers, you know, all that stuff?”

His mother squinted as if trying to recall, then exclaimed, “Yes! I kept one of almost everything with the intention of putting it into a scrapbook for my grandchildren.” She winked at Eli. “But since I don’t have any grandchildren…”

“Thanks, Mom, that really helps,” he responded dryly.

“Sorry,” she whispered with a grin. “Anyway, there’s a box of all that old stuff in the study. I stashed all of your father’s stuff in there when I moved in and haven’t had the heart to go through it. You are more than welcome to dig through it. Just make sure to return whatever you borrow. I might have grandchildren one day,” she added with another wink.

Eli glanced at his watch. He really had no plans for the evening, and if he didn’t look into the files tonight he might not have the opportunity for several weeks. “I think I’ll go and check it out now, if that’s okay.” He planted a kiss on his mother’s head. “Supper was wonderful,” he said as he headed to the doorway. Pausing, he pivoted to look at his mother. “Oh, and I think you’ll make a wonderful event planner. Enjoy your classes.”

His mother smiled back at him, and a minute later he heard the clink of plates and glasses as she gathered the dishes and moved them to the sink. Guilt fluttered.
I should have helped her.
But maybe by going through his father’s things he could help her in another way.