the New Black . #wewillnotgoback and #whatworksforourfamily still eclipsed the latest Kardashian drama. Walker didn’t have his own hashtag, but he did seem to have a message that resonated with voters.
He talked about the importance of families and the need for parents to be able to stay home with their children if they wanted to. He made a special point of citing stellar statistics about stay-at-home dads and used examples of all different kinds of families—some so progressive it was a wonder they hadn’t taken his Republican card back. Then he trotted out his gorgeous wife and adorable little girls and smiled and waved like a poster for the Aryan nuclear family.
Collins had her own version of the perfect family, but her comments about going back to work as soon as she could when her children were infants had definitely rubbed at least some of the voters the wrong way. She won Maine in a landslide, but Walker squeaked out wins in Kansas and Kentucky. Louisiana had been close enough they were still counting the votes. It would be days before they knew the results.
Estevan took Puerto Rico and Matt had to laugh thinking of the other Tribune reporter still stuck on the campaign trail with the crazy billionaire. He knew the man had taken the assignment because he assumed Estevan would be out and he’d be home by now. The momentum Estevan had gained in his battle with Collins raised his profile more than it diminished hers and it didn’t look like the publishing magnet would be out any time soon.
Either way, things had taken a turn in Walker’s direction, and Matt was feeling pretty damn good about everything. Everything except the fact that he couldn’t get a hold of his baby sister. Walker’s wife took the stage, leading their little girls by the hand, and the crowd erupted. They were loud enough, he’d have missed his phone if he hadn’t set it to vibrate. When he pulled it from his pocket, he saw a text message from his sister.
I’M FINE. JUST BUSY. DON’T COME.
It should make him feel better but it had the opposite effect. Why didn’t she want to talk to him, and why couldn’t she be bothered to return his call until he threatened to drop in on her? Making his way through the cheering crowd, he started walking and kept going until he was out of the gym and someplace quiet enough to make a call. He ducked into an alcove close enough to the exits by the press area so he could see if something happened and then he dialed. When it rang through to Becca’s voicemail, he hung up and dialed again. It was after six and he doubted she had a class. He hit Call a third time and she finally picked up on the fifth ring.
“What the fuck?” he asked, replacing his worry with irritation. “You can’t take the time to call me back?”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice sounded small and he thought he heard a catch.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, toning back the asshole. “I’m just giving you grief. Everything okay there?”
She waited a second too long to answer and his body went on hyper alert. “I’m fine,” she said, clearly not.
“What’s wrong, Becs? And don’t bullshit me.”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine, really.” The artificially chipper tone was almost worse than the sadness he thought he’d heard earlier. She was lying to him and he had no idea why. Pushing her over the phone didn’t seem likely to get him the answers he wanted so he made a split-second decision. They weren’t scheduled to be in Arizona for another week and a half, but he didn’t want to wait that long to see what was going on. The world wouldn’t end if he wasn’t there to cover Guam and the Virgin Islands. He’d wait for the results from the next day’s contests and then he’d head to Arizona a couple of days early. He could be back on the bus before the swing states in a week.
“I’m coming to see you,” he said, more sure of his decision with every word. “I’ll sleep on your couch, flirt with your roommate,
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