The candidate is part 3 of the Senator. It is in the voice of Senator Doris Russell, the candidate. One of the comments on The Senator suggested that were she a man, she could get away with an affair - as a woman, probably not. That would be a fun topic to try in Loving Wives (people give lower scores to RAAC tales; one wonders what they would score if the cheating spouse was elected President).
We will never know, at least from this author. This story is about Doris and her personal relationship with her to-be-ex-husband.
As with the other two parts of the story, this final part contains no clues as to the party of the Senator. This is not an attempt to say one party is in any way different from the other - it is a story about a woman who cheated on her husband, her rationale, and what she does to move forward.
The Candidate
I really don't know where to begin my story - why is that? I guess I don't know how it ends, so it is hard to say where it started. I guess I'll just start.
I met Paul Russell in college. We had a bit of a rocky start. Maybe that is what this whole tale is about. Well, I'll get to that. We met at a party his fraternity and my sorority co-hosted. I had broken away from my sisters, who thought I was not trying hard enough to have a good time. I heard a couple of his brothers telling him the same thing.
"Excuse me." I said rather loudly, to be heard above the music and partying. I grabbed him by the arm since I couldn't call him by name. The other frat boys backed away and he smiled at me - he had a killer smile.
"Why yes, what can I do for you?"
"Could we talk?" And soon we were.
Introduced myself, Doris Minton and explained why I had interrupted. "I just had the same conversation with my sorority sisters, why don't those guys think you are partying properly?"
He laughed, "Paul Russell, I refuse whatever is in that punch and am having my usual beer - if I go wild, I'll have the second. Partying properly, where did you get that?"
"The girls told me I wasn't fucking funky; I didn't think I knew you well enough for that." I held up my glass, "They assured me the punch was grain alcohol and fruit juice. This is 1/4 punch and the rest fruit juice - out of a fresh bottle."
We talked about liking to party, but not wanting to lose control. We had important things which had to be done on the weekend and nursing a hangover or sleeping 'til two because we were up all night didn't fit into that.
We both were into our conversation. He was a hunk, in my opinion. I looked my best, which I will modestly say is very good. We had this connection - a seriousness about being all we could be.
He looked at his watch, "Wow, nearly midnight. Talking to you has made the time pass so quickly. I need to get to bed."
And I thought it was going so well. He may be right, there will be other times. I have much to do tomorrow. "Would you walk me back to the sorority house?"
At least he brightened at that suggestion. "I'd love to."
He kissed me at the door. "I'd love to see you again."
I told him, "I'd like that, too." He took his phone and started a contact for me. He handed me the phone, "Give me your digits." I did, He hit call, and my phone rang in my purse. He disconnected.
As he left he said, "I'll call you." But he didn't.
Nearly a month passed, I decided to take the bull by the horns, to coin a phrase. I called him.
"Doris, oh my gawd, I keep wanting to call you, but I have been so busy. I am sorry. I am glad you called. I'm rambling, how can I help?"
"It takes about 5 seconds to make a call - then another two minutes to tell me you are busy but will call me later."
"Oh," he paused for a bit, "you know, you are right. I'm sorry. I'm not good at this and I need to be."
"Paul, that's a bit cryptic for me. At what do you need to be good?"
"I don't date. If I don't, I am always going to be single. I like you; I would like to know you better and I don't know how."
"You're what, 19 years-old and never had a date?"
"Oh, I date, but not trying to find a future spouse - just short-term romances."
I've talked to this guy for maybe two hours, and he is telling me I may be his first attempt at romance. "If you'll excuse me, Paul, that is a little odd - no, come to think of it, it is a lot odd."
And so we started. Paul was much like me - he had to be the best he could be. He would not settle. He had dated and found no one like him and no one who would put up with him - so he'd decided not to pursue romance. All of a sudden he was smitten.
I was too, I must admit. I found a soul mate. We had the same aspirations and found ways we could help each other succeed - at a higher rate than we did alone. We were quickly exclusive, then living together, and on his graduation - married.
The first two years of our marriage I finished law school, magna cum laude. Paul had worked for a financial firm for a short while and then put together his own venture capital company. He made enough money for me to focus on becoming a member of the city council instead of getting billable hours as an attorney.
As we kept growing, both of us were instrumental to the other's success. We were the "wall" against which the other could safely bounce any idea. I never really noticed when it stopped - but it did. I guess somewhere in our early thirties. I would say we were consumed by our success.