“But it would have helped Vivi to know she wasn’t alone.”
Winona thought about that. It was true that sometimes the support of only one person could make a difference.
For the next hour, they left the topic of Dallas Raintree alone. They talked about the debate and next week’s election and the upcoming holidays. Aurora bitched about Ricky’s infrequent and rushed phone calls, while Winona studied her notes.
By the time they finally left the house, Winona knew she looked as pretty as was possible. Aurora had straightened her hair and done her makeup to perfection, emphasizing her brown eyes and pale skin. The outfit she’d brought was an unconstructed jacket made of a soft burgundy fabric and matching pants, with a black scoop-necked tank.
“Ready?” Aurora asked when it was time to go.
“Ready.”
They went outside and walked down to the high school. There, they ducked into the girls’ locker room to await the start of the event.
“Thanks, Aurora,” Winona said, hugging her sister. “Your support really means a lot to me.”
“Knock ’em dead, sis.”
Winona watched her sister leave the locker room, then sat down on one of the slick wooden benches to study her notes one last time. She was so deep into the facts and figures that she was startled when someone came to get her.
“It’s time, Winona.”
She laughed, feeling nervous and excited. Almost giddy with anticipation. She’d never been more ready for anything in her life.
Maybe she’d even go on from here.
Senator Grey.
Why not? She followed the council member out to the gymnasium, where hundreds of her friends and neighbors sat in folding metal chairs on the basketball court. In front of them, two podiums with microphones had been set up.
At her entrance, the crowd fell silent, watching her in what could only be described as awe. Their respect washed over her, gave her strength. She went up to one of the podiums and took her place behind it. A moment later her opponent strode into the room; he was grinning like a Cheshire cat. “You look mighty pretty tonight, Winona,” he said, extending his hand to shake hers.
“Why, thank you, Thad. But looks aren’t what matters here, you know.”
“Since I’ve been mayor for eight years, I imagine I know more about what matters than you do, but don’t let ignorance stop you from speakin’ your mind.”
Winona smiled brightly, thinking, I can’t wait to kick your ass, while she said, “We’ll see soon enough.”
Then, like a fighter in the ring, Thad went to his corner—the podium—and she stayed where she was. Between them, the man who’d been mayor ten years ago, Tom Trumbull, stepped up to the microphone and introduced the two candidates and outlined the rules for the question-and-answer debate format.
“We’ll direct the first question to Mayor Olssen. Thad, you’ll have two minutes to answer, and Winona, you’ll have one minute to rebut his answer. Shall we begin?”
Erik Engstrom immediately stood up. “Mayor Olssen. We all know that the mayor’s office is in charge of overseeing local law enforcement. How will your administration help make us citizens feel safer?”
It was a ridiculous question asked by an idiot, but there was nothing she could do about that. Smiling, she scanned the crowd, looking for friendly faces. Aurora and Noah were right up front; they nodded encouragement at her. Vivi Ann and Dad sat stiffly beside them; neither was smiling. Of course they’d be here. Dad wouldn’t let the town know there was discord at Water’s Edge. People would talk. For once she was grateful that he cared so much about appearances.
Mark and Cissy were seated in the back, with Myrtle.
“Your turn to respond, Ms. Grey,” Trumbull said.
Winona didn’t miss a beat. “Local law enforcement needs financial support and careful monitoring, but they certainly don’t need more government pressing down on them, making it harder to do their job. As mayor, I would make it my duty to aid Sheriff Bailor and his deputies, not to get in their way.”
Aurora and Noah clapped loudly in response.
Winona felt a trickle of anxiety when she looked at the rest of the audience; they were sitting with their hands in their laps.
Myrtle Michaelian stood up. “Winona,” she said in a halting voice. “I’d like to know how you think it’s staying out of the police’s way when you accuse them of being stupid.”
“I’m sorry, Myrtle. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”