Mirror Image

“It’s our campaign.”

“The hell it is.”

Tate was about to offer a rebuttal when the waiter appeared with Jack’s breakfast. He waited until they were alone again, then leaned across the table and said in a soft, peacemaking tone, “I wasn’t belittling your decision, Jack.”

“That’s what it looked like to me. To everybody else, too.”

Tate stared into the cooling remains of his waffles and sausage, but didn’t pick up his fork again. “I’m sorry if you took it to heart, but their tactics just weren’t working for me. I listened to you, to Eddy, to Dad, but—”

“But you went with Carole’s opinion.”

Tate was taken aback by Jack’s viciousness. “What’s she got to do with this?”

“You tell me.”

“She’s my wife.”

“That’s your problem.”

Tate didn’t want to get into a discussion of his marriage with his brother. He addressed the real issue. “Jack, my name is the one on the ballot. I’m ultimately accountable for how my campaign is run. I’ll have to answer for my performance in Congress if I’m elected. Tate Rutledge,” he stressed, “not anybody else.”

“I understand that.”

“Then work with me, not against me.” Warmed to his topic, Tate pushed his plate aside and propped his forearms on the edge of the table. “I couldn’t have done this alone. Hell, don’t you think I know how dedicated you are to this?”

“More than anything in the world, I want to see you elected.”

“I know that, Jack. You’re my brother. I love you. I appreciate your doggedness, your self-sacrifice, and all the details you see to so I won’t be bothered with them. I realize, probably more than you know, that I’m sitting on the white horse while you’re down there shoveling up the shit.”

“I never aspired to ride the white horse, Tate. I just want to be given credit for shoveling the shit pretty damn well.”

“More than pretty damn well,” Tate said. “I’m sorry we disagreed on that matter yesterday, but sometimes I have to go with my gut instinct, despite what you or anybody else is advising me.

“Would you have me any other way? Would I be a worthy candidate for public office if I could be swayed to go along with something because it would be the popular, expedient, and convenient thing to do, even though I felt strongly against it?”

“I suppose not.”

Tate smiled ruefully. “In the final analysis, I’m the one baring my ass to the world, Jack.”

“Just don’t expect me to bend over and kiss it when I think you’re wrong.”

The two brothers laughed together. Jack was the first to grow serious again. He summoned the waiter to take away their plates and replenish their coffee cups. “Tate, as long as we’re clearing the air…”

“Hmm?”

“I get the impression that things are better between you and Carole.”

Tate glanced at his brother sharply, then away. “Some.”

“Well, that’s… that’s good, I guess. As long as it makes you happy.” He fiddled with an empty sugar packet.

“Why am I waiting for the other shoe to drop?”

Jack cleared his throat and shifted uneasily in his chair. “I don’t know, there’s something…” He ran his hand over his thinning hair. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“Try me.”

“There’s something out of sync with her.”