Page 29 of Pursuit of Happiness

“Hi, Stevie,” one of the regulars called out when she walkedthrough the door. “Joanie’s in the back with your friend.”

“What?” she asked, but he’d already moved on to start settingtables. She glanced around the room. She’d been volunteering here for the pastten years, and they usually got around a hundred people through the doors onThanksgiving. No doubt he’d been referring to one of the other volunteersslated to work the holiday. She strode to the back of the dining hall andpushed through the kitchen doors. “Joanie, I’m here and I’m ready to peel allthe potatoes in the land,” she called out.

Joanie was nowhere in sight, but a familiar voice came from theback of the kitchen. “I think I may have already done that.”

“Meredith?”

Meredith stepped out from behind the tall kitchen rack wearing anoversized white apron and brandishing a knife. Stevie laughed out loud.

“What?” Meredith said, looking down at her apron. “You don’tthink this look suits me?”

Stevie pointed at the knife. “You might want to lose the weaponunless you plan to adopt it as part of your campaign slogan. ‘I’m MeredithMitchell and I’ll cut inflation, taxes, and crime.’”

Meredith returned the smile. “I like it. Remind me when we’redone here, and I’ll let my campaign manager know he’s been replaced.”

At the mention of a campaign manager, Stevie sobered. For a briefsecond, she’d believed Meredith might actually be here to see her, but that wascrazy. Meredith had just launched a presidential campaign, and her presence ata homeless shelter on Thanksgiving was likely nothing more than a typical photoop designed to make her like a regular person, caring about the needs of herfellow citizens. Stevie glanced around.

“Hey, what are you looking for?” Meredith asked.

Stevie did her best to ignore that Meredith had come closer andthey were now standing inches apart. She lowered her voice to a whisper.“Where’s the press? I don’t mean to be rude, but you should really have themget their coverage before the guests start arriving. The people who come hereto eat may be homeless, but they have a right not to have their picturessplashed through the news.”

Meredith frowned. “Is that what you think of me?” She didn’t waitfor an answer. “This isn’t a media bit. In fact, I wore a scarf around my headand oversized sunglasses, Jackie-O style, so I could sneak in here. Being here,doing something worthwhile, is my way of escaping from the roller coaster mylife is about to become.” She paused for a few beats. “Plus, I wanted to seeyou, and Hannah told me you’d be here.”

Stevie wanted to say she was glad, but all she could manage inthe moment was, “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Meredith set the knife on the counter. “Look, Idon’t know what the future holds, but I do know it’s going to be crazy. I justjumped off a cliff of sorts and I may fall flat on my face, but I’m going forthis. All the way. I know this isn’t your thing, but all I’m asking for is toget to know you better and maybe some companionship along the way. No bigpromises other than respect, fun, and when it comes to the press, a big fat nocomment. What do you say?”

Stevie let Meredith’s speech wash over her. Like any goodpolitician, Meredith had the gift of persuasion, but it wasn’t hard to convincesomeone to feel a certain way when they were already predisposed to do so, andStevie was more than halfway there. “You can’t control the press.”

“You’re right for the most part, and I know why you’re so averseto them, but I can control the narrative.” She waggled a finger back and forthbetween them. “How’s this: we’ve been on a couple of dates and we enjoy eachother’s company. It’s new and nice, but we both have busy lives that take mostof our focus. We’d appreciate the same privacy any other two people would atthe beginning of a new adventure.”

“Are you telling me or the press?”

“I’m telling anyone who wants to know.” Meredith reached forStevie’s hand. “I promise not to lead a herd of media to your door, and if wewant to continue to see each other it might involve some decoy cars and othersneaky maneuvers, but I’d like to give it a try if you would.”

Stevie didn’t hesitate this time. Meredith showing up here today,without the cameras and the entourage, was a unique offering, a second chance.Whatever was about to happen was going to be special, and she wasn’t about tolet the opportunity to get to know her better pass by. “I would.” She picked upthe knife. “Now, let’s go peel some potatoes.”

Chapter Nine

Christmas Day

Meredith walked into her parents’ living room and scanned thepicture-perfect holiday scene. Two large Douglas firs flanked the massive stonefireplace, each decked out in yards of white chiffon and sparkling lights,while the rest of the room looked like a holiday window display at NeimanMarcus.

“It’s the perfect photo op,” Jen said from behind.

“Don’t start,” Meredith replied. “I meant what I said about todaybeing off limits.”

“All day?”

“What’s left of it. I wore the silly Santa hat and passed outtoys at the children’s hospital this morning, and then read about seven hundredbriefing papers, so I think I’ve earned a break. Even Gordon agreed I shouldhave the rest of the day off. Every moment from now until tomorrow morning iscampaign-free.”

Jen let out a heavy sigh. “Fine, we don’t have to let any pressin, but I’d love to get a few pictures we can release later. Kind of a how thesenator spent her holidays piece. It’s great public interest.”

Meredith knew Jen was right. The more she could humanize hercampaign, the better she’d be able to connect to voters, but she wasn’tconvinced photos taken at her parents’ opulent estate would convince regularpeople she could relate to their lives. Besides, none of these decorations wereher taste; she preferred a much simpler style. She glanced at her watch, notingshe still had a little time before Stevie was supposed to arrive, and thenpointed to the French doors that led to the back deck which was decorated in amore rustic theme. “You have fifteen minutes to get whatever pictures you wantand then put away the cameras, the social media, everything. Deal?”

“Deal. I’ll go get the camera.”

Meredith walked out to the deck. She shivered at the cold, butdidn’t bother going back inside for her coat. She’d learned a long time ago, onher first campaign, that candidates should never show weakness in any form, andthat included bundling up on a cold day or perspiring on a hot one. God forbidanyone would want a human being representing their interests.

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