State of Excerpt

"Idon't know who any of these people are," I gesture as I walk through the campaign headquarters, passing by a blue and white banner with the name Walker hanging on the wall.

"Do you think your father knew the names of each volunteer on his staff? He had better things to do," Rausch says as I sit down behind the desk.

Over the past few months, the campaign has ramped up from just a couple of volunteers to a now-bustling room with the shrill sound of phones ringing. I tap my chin with a pen while I watch through the glass partition, and I can't help but think of my mother spending all her time organizing the volunteers of my father's campaign. She knew all their names, even if my father didn't. He relied on her for those things so that he could concentrate on the campaign. Granted, his campaign wasn't for a small district in Virginia, but this is my diving platform where I can test out the waters, learn from mistakes, and hopefully make a difference, too.

I brush my thumb over the place where my wedding ring used to be, now not as foreign with it off as if was at first.

I'm only slightly aware of Rausch's voice in the background. "I have you on the schedule to speak at the VFW hall on Thursday. I think…"

"I'm not my father," I abruptly say, and Rausch stops.

I set the pen down and look across the desk at him. "It's not a statewide campaign. The problem with Rori Colton is that he didn't know people like Ethel and the problems they faced. It made it easier for him to vote down a Bill that could have saved them, instead of saving the state money," I declare.

Looking back into the heart of the office, I state, "It's a small southern district of Virginia. I need to know people's names, starting with the volunteers."

Rausch sits back in his chair and nods. He tries to hide the smile on his face, but the tilt of his lips tells me that he's proud of me, even if he doesn't always agree with me. I stand up and Rausch follows as I head into the bullpen, making my way around the room and introducing myself as if these people hadn't been working for me for the last month.

During my father's campaign I would have to put on a smile, shake hands, and pretend to enjoy small talk while pushing my father's agenda. I find that my smile comes easily, naturally, even if deep down I'm still nursing a wound. Perhaps this is what has kept me going the last couple months – throwing myself into the campaign.

The small bell at the top of the door jingles, a leftover from the hardware store that used to occupy this space on main street. Ethel walks in, her crocheted handbag tucked under her arm as she looks around the space, her eyes finally meeting mine.

Ethel eyes the space skeptically. "Looks like a bunch of pomp and circumstance to me."

"Are you looking to volunteer?" I tease and raise a challenging eyebrow.

"I figure you could use someone with my sunny disposition," she says sarcastically, and I can't help but smile.

"Well then, I have a spot for you right over here." I lead the way to a desk near the windows.

Rausch approaches. "Is this the famous Ethel?" he asks.

Ethel places a hand on her hip and looks up at him as he towers over her short frame. "I don't know about famous, but whatever you've heard," she pauses, "is probably true."

Rausch laughs and looks over at me with approval. Apparently; Ethel can win over anyone.

"Where's that pretty wife of yours?" she asks, and it's like a pierce to my heart.

Before I can make an excuse, Rausch interrupts.

"Angie," he calls over to the woman that's been training the volunteers. "This is Ethel, and she would like to volunteer."

"People say I got a voice like honey, so if you want to put me on the phones, that's fine with me," she declares to Angie.

I give Rausch a thankful nod and retreat to my office. I have reference material to go over before my meeting at the VFW hall.

"Excuse me," a young man says from the doorway. "Are you Darren Walker?"

I nod.

He drops the envelope on my desk and says, "You've been served."

I don't even notice him leaving, because in front of me is an envelope from a law office in Phoenix, Arizona. My stomach drops while I rip the envelop open to find divorce papers from Evangeline.

Pulling off my tie, I throw it across the room with an unceremonious affect because I should have expected this, but I'm still thrown off kilter. It's been three months, and I can blame the campaign for keeping me busy… but the truth is I couldn't bring myself to draw up the papers. Apparently she has not been so restricted by time.

"Don't forget about the fundraising event tonight," Rausch says as he enters my office. He sees my tie lying on the ground and picks it up, and when he places it on the desk he looks at the papers.

"You can gloat if you want to," I tell him angrily. "You got what you wanted, right?"

"If you want me to say that Evangeline leaving was the best thing for your campaign, then fine, but that doesn't mean I'm happy about seeing you in pain."

I scoff.

"You can think what you want, Darren, but what I said to you before was the truth. If you wanted her with you on the campaign, I would do everything to protect her," he says with sincerity.

If there is one thing I know about Rausch, it's that he keeps his word.

I lift my eyes from the papers. "Well, it seems she didn't want to be a part of this life after all."

Rausch lets out a breath. "You can sit here and stare at those papers, or you can pull yourself together and win this election."