“Winston Churchill once said that the Chinese ideogram for ‘crisis’ is made up of two characters: one means ‘danger,’ the other ‘opportunity.’ When the final votes are counted, there’s a strong possibility that Canada will have a minority government and we will not head that government. The danger for our party is all too apparent. This crisis could bring out the worst in us. We could waste the next months in recriminations, accusations, and backbiting. That’s one option. But as Churchill reminds us, there’s another response to crisis. We can see this crisis as an opportunity – a chance to rebuild, to reach out to all Canadians: people of colour, people who are white, gays, lesbians, bisexuals, straights, Muslims, Jews, Christians, Buddhists, agnostics, atheists, those who are pro-choice as well as those who are pro-life. We can say to all Canadians, ‘We are the real party of the people.’ And we can mean it. Thank you for allowing me to represent you all these years.”
The applause at the end of Ginny’s speech was perfunctory. The red light on the camera in front of Keith and me came on. In my earphone, a disembodied voice said, “So, Joanne, is this the end for Ginny Monaghan?”
“No,” I said. “That was a thoughtful speech – people will remember it.”
“You don’t believe her husband’s murder has put an end to her political career?”
“No,” I said. “Jason Brodnitz’s death was a tragedy. Tragedies happen. Obviously, Ginny’s first priority now is her family. But when she’s ready to make plans, there’ll be many options open to her.”
“Including politics?”
“Including politics,” I said.
“You think the electorate will forgive her?”
“There’s nothing for them to forgive.” I said.
The next question was directed at Keith. It was a reworking of the question about Ginny’s future, and Keith’s answer was articulate and incisive.
When the red light went off, I gave him the thumbs-up. “Nice answer,” I said.
“Remember what Eugene McCarthy said about politics?”
“Eugene McCarthy said a lot of things about politics.”
Keith nodded. “True enough,” he said, “but I’ve always had a particular fondness for this observation. McCarthy said ‘Politics is like coaching football. You have to be smart enough to know how the game is played and dumb enough to think it’s important.’ ”
“And you’re fond of that quote because…?”
Keith’s laugh was short. “After all these wasted years, I’m still dumb enough to think it’s important.”
For the next hour, Keith and I sat on the set, waiting. He made some phone calls and took some phone calls – notably one from Ginny. Before he rang off, he said. “Well, if I don’t see you before I leave, take care of yourself. I’ll be in touch.” Then he turned to me and said, “Ginny and the girls are going back to the lake. She’ll call you in the morning.”
“Sounds like you’re not going to be around much longer either,” I said.
“I’ve got my ticket for the three-fifteen flight tomorrow afternoon.”
“That was sudden.”
“Not really. My job here is done. I wasn’t successful, but there’s nothing I can do to change the results. Besides, there’s a big meeting tomorrow night in Ottawa.”
“Are you going to be in trouble?”
“No. You were right about Brodnitz’s death. Tragedies happen. Besides, what are they going to do, fire me?”
“You don’t seem very worried.”
“I’m not.”
When it finally became clear that the answer to the election would come in Alberta and British Columbia, the network producer thanked us and waved us off.
“The party’s over,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”
“We’re still wearing pancake makeup.”
“Everyone will assume we’re people who matter.”
“We are people who matter,” Keith said.
He took my arm and we ran through the rain to my car. Keith was breathing heavily by the time we got there.
“So where to?” I said. “We could go back to our place for a drink, or would you rather get back to your hotel?”
“Let’s just sit here for a moment and enjoy the peace,” Keith said.
“Fine with me,” I said. “Give us a chance to talk.”
“About what?”
“About what’s next for you. Ginny’s speech was stirring, but we both know the knives are already out for your leader. In the next couple of weeks, the boys and girls who want to replace him are going to be knocking on your door.”
“I won’t be answering,” Keith said. “This was my last campaign, Jo.”
“Finally going to let the big guys buy you off with a Senate seat?”
Keith took out a pack of Rothmans and placed one, unlit, between his lips. “Even the Senate beats what’s ahead for me. I’m dying, Jo. I only have a couple of months left. The other carotid artery is almost blocked. I’ve decided against surgery – the outcome is uncertain, and what happens after the surgery is hell. My cardiologist, who happens to be an old poker buddy, said if he was in my spot, he’d just enjoy the time he had left.”
I took his hand and we watched the raindrops slide down the windshield. “I’m so sorry,” I said finally.
“Don’t be,” he said. “I’ve had a good life, and I don’t have many regrets. I’ve missed some chances, notably with you, but even that worked out for the best. You and Zack appear to have caught the brass ring.”
“We did,” I said. “And I wouldn’t have had the confidence even to reach for it if it hadn’t been for you.”
“How so?”
“You were the first man in my life who didn’t make me feel I was a disappointment.”
“Did Ian make you feel that?”
“He didn’t mean to, no more than my father did or Alex did, but they all had a way of making me aware of my shortcomings.” I rubbed Keith’s hand. “Somehow you managed to convince me that I was worth being with. And I hung on to that when I met Zack.”
“Well, that’s something, isn’t it?” he said.
“It was for me.”
By the time we pulled up on the street beside the hotel, the rain had stopped. When Keith got out of the car, I did too. He looked at me questioningly. “I’m going to walk you to the front door,” I said.
The steps leading to the lobby were brightly lit and a doorman was waiting to spring to attention if a guest approached. Halfway up the block, I stopped. Keith stopped too. We moved towards each other and embraced. Our kiss was deep and lingering – a farewell kiss, sweet with unexpressed words and deeply felt emotions. “That was nice,” Keith said.
“It was,” I said. “I’ll drive you to the airport tomorrow.”
“That would be nice too,” Keith said.
I touched his cheek. “I’m going to miss you so much,” I said. Then I turned, walked back to my car, and drove home, weeping, to my husband.
Zack was in our bedroom watching the election results when I came in. He beamed when he saw me. “Hey, you were terrific, but you weren’t on air enough.”
“Did you call the network to complain?” I said.
“Better than that – I phoned in a bomb threat.”
“That’s my boy,” I said.
“Can I get you anything?”
“No, thanks. It’s been a long night.” I started undressing. As I took off my dress, Zack saw that I was wearing a black slip that he particularly liked. He wheeled close to me and rubbed my arm. “What is it about you in that slip?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But as soon as I realized the effect it had on you, I ordered two more exactly like it.”
Zack gave me a searching look. “Let’s call it a night, Ms. Shreve.”
