Page 42 of This Means War

The doorbell rings again, and I hurry the rest of the way forward, tabling this line of thought for now.

“Hi, Tom,” I greet him, “thanks for coming over.”

Tom glances up from his phone and offers me a brief smile. “That is what I’m paid to do.”

“Right.” I refrain from pointing out that he seemed to have forgotten that fact last night and lead him towards the kitchen where Lydia is busy putting Pop-Tarts in the cupboard.

“Tom,” Lydia leans her hip against the island and studies him as she opens a Pop-Tart package, “how nice to see you again. Would you like one of the Pop-Tarts Cole bought me to keep me in check?” She slides a Pop-Tart from its silver lining then holds theremaining one out to him. I grimace at her words.

“I already ate.” Tom eyes the package disdainfully, then turns to me. “Now, Cole, you said in your text that you had something big to share with me, so let’s get down to it because I really think we need to be addressing Arnold’s smartboard initiative.”

“Right.” I drum my fingers along the island, excitement bubbling out of me. “Funny you should mention that, because what I have to tell you actually pertains to Arnold’s smartboard initiative.”

“Oh.” One of Tom’s eyebrows slides up. “Let’s hear it.”

“Alright.” I rub my hands together warming up for my story. “Last night, I mentioned to Lydia that Arnold had just managed to procure the funds to purchase smartboards for the school district. She in turn told me that the school district had only just purchased smartboards two years ago.” As I say this last part, I see Tom lean forward—I’ve caught his interest.

“We both thought this seemed odd, so I decided to do a little investigating.” I cross the kitchen and retrieve the folder of articles I printed last night off the far counter. “As you’ll soon see,” I slide the folder to Tom, “I found out a number of incriminating things, starting with the fact that the CEO of TeachBoard, the company the schools would be purchasing their smartboards from, is engaged to Arnold’s daughter.” I jab the top article, a clipping of the pair’s engagement announcement. “That onits own looks a bit shady, but when you couple it with the fact that,” I pull the next article from the pile, “the new president of the school board was Arnold’s college roommate and doubles partner on the tennis team,” I point to the picture of the two of them holding a tennis trophy, “and the treasurer,” I remove the last article, “is on the social committee of the Bayshore Golf Club with,” I move my finger down to a photo I printed off the club’s website, “Ferris Arnold’s wife, then you start to see the beginning of a political scandal.”

“Holy cow,” Lydia breathes, and I realize she’s come up behind me and is peering over my shoulder at the articles. A whiff of vanilla hits me. “They just went ahead and orchestrated a sweetheart deal right under everybody’s noses.”

“Essentially,” I nod, taken aback that she knows this terminology. Then I remember she was pre-law in undergrad.

“A sweetheart deal, what’s that?” Tom asks.

“It’s a special arrangement made between a private corporation and a government entity that allows the corporation to benefit rather than the general public. And in this scenario the government entity is also benefiting, seeing as this will help him in his bid for reelection.” I pause, then add, “Of course, this arrangement is well hidden, since most people would assume if the school board approved purchasing new smartboards, the district must need them. Not to mention,” I pick up the last paper in the folder on which is printed an article comprised onlyof a single paragraph, “when I looked up the original purchase of the smartboards, which was initiated by the city’s previous mayor, Jim Dartmouth, I only found a tiny blurb from the Sentinel’s education section. For some reason, the purchase wasn’t very publicized.”

Tom scans the short article for far longer than it takes to actually read it, and I start to feel a hint of nerves. Why isn’t he excited about this?

“Tom,” I pick back up, “don’t you see, this has the makings of a major political scandal. Arnold and the school board aremisusing funds.” I stress the last two words, hoping for a reaction, but Tom just sets the article down and leans back in his seat.

“It’s a non-starter,” he states. “We can’t expose this.”

“What?” Lydia gasps before I can get the word out myself. “You can’t be serious, Tom.”

“I’m completely serious.” Tom looks from her to me. “Tell me, what do you two think will happen if we try and put Arnold in the middle of a political scandal? You think he’ll just take it lying down? Arnold is a fighter, a competitor. We expose this, he exposes the two of you and your torrid little one-night stand turned accidental pregnancy.”

“Torrid little one-night stand?” Lydia rolls her eyes. “Please, you can’t really tell me that voters will care more about the fact that Cole got someone pregnant out of wedlock, than that an elected government official is misusing taxpayer funds.”

“Inyouropinion he’s misusing them,” Tomretorts, “but others might not view it that way. After all, heisgetting the schools new smartboards and the boarddidapprove the expenditure.”

“Oh c’mon!” Lydia throws up her hands. “How could any parent be okay with their school district throwing away what amounts to almost a million dollars? Think of the things the schools could use that money for!”

“Be that as it may,” Tom’s tone is even, but his eyes are hard, “I know the demographics of this city’s voters, and they have traditional family values. They also place a high value on education, so anything done to better the schools will be looked on favorably. Many of them will say, if we have the funds to replace the smartboards, then why not do it? Honestly, all of these articles Cole found basically amount to a compilation of the relationships in Arnold’s life, they hold no real clout nor do they contain anything that could get Arnold convicted of wrongdoing.”

Lydia glowers at him. “I don’t think this is about getting Arnold convicted of anything, it’s about bringing to light that Arnold is abusing his power. Right, Cole?” She looks to me. For a second, I’m speechless as I take in her fiery expression. She’s fighting for me and that makes my chest expand with warmth. “Cole?” she prods again, and I jump back to the conversation.

“I agree with Lydia, Tom. I’ve said from day one that I thought we should be upfront with the voters. We’ve been keeping our marriage under wraps, but Ithink it’s time to announce it and deal with the fall-out. None of this fudging of due dates and what not. Let’s just air our dirty laundry, so we can then air their even dirtier laundry.”

Tom is silent, but I see a vein ticking in his forehead. “No,” he says eventually, “not going to happen.”

“Tom,” I’m stunned, “I’m not sure this is your call to make.”

“I’m your campaign manager,” he stands as if ending the conversation, “so yes, it is my call. And if you can’t accept that, perhaps you should find someone else to work with.” Tom turns and starts to stalk out.

“Wait, Tom—” I begin again, but Lydia interjects.

“Tom,” her icy whisper cuts through the chaos, “tell me you didn’t.”

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