Just the Three of Us

It was August in Washington, and it was hot. Not just any heat, but the evil cocktail of heat, humidity, and absolutely, positively no breeze anywhere that has plagued our nation’s capital for every year of its existence since the citizens of the young republic first began the project of draining a swamp along the Potomac River over 200 years ago. It was the kind the kind of heat where opening your window is like opening the door of a running oven, and anyone with any sense stays hermetically sealed inside their air-conditioned home for as long as possible.

Paul wasn’t worried about the heat though. He was in his car, with his beloved wife of 25 years next to him. They were on their way to a romantic weekend getaway in the same town where they had first met on vacation as college students so many years ago. Life had been busy for Paul ever since he had been elected to Congress 2 years ago. Between travelling, votes, hearings, and stumping for other politicians, he barely had time for his family. Though his wife had not yet uttered a word of complaint, he could tell that all the time apart was putting a strain on their marriage. But now, as he drove the last few miles to the hotel, one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding his wife’s hand, he felt as if everything was going to be all right after all.

They arrived at the Sealand hotel, a venerable (although a less-charitable observer would simply have described it as “old”), institution along the main street of Port Powell. From the hotel’s front door, one merely had to cross the road, climb down a few stairs, and would be on the beach.

“Paul, can you really believe it? We had our first date on this street 28 years ago, in that little restaurant just down the road over there.”, Paul’s wife said as she pointed down the street.

“I know Susan, it’s really good to be back.”, Paul answered as he finished removing their suitcases from the car. “I’m so glad your mother agreed to take the kids for the weekend so we could get away for a little bit.”

Paula and Susan both took in a few deep gulps of sea air before walking into the hotel lobby, wheeling their suitcases behind them. Suddenly, Susan stopped, put out her arm is if to block Paul, and then pointed to a man standing on the opposite end of the lobby.

“Paul,” she asked with an almost panicked tone, “please tell me that’s not…”

“Shit!”, Paul swore under his breath. “Don’t worry Susan, I’ll go deal with this; it shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes. You get us checked in and take the bags; I’ll meet you in the room.”

Susan wheeled their luggage over to the reception desk as Paul speedwalked over to a nervous-looking man in a business suit standing at the opposite end of the lobby. The man looked up from his tablet just in time to see Paul heading towards him.

“Congressman Burns, good to see you!”, he said excitedly as Paul put his shoulder around him and gently steered him into a corner.

“Ricky, what the hell are you doing here!”, Paul muttered as soon as he was sure they were both out of sight. “I don’t have any campaign events scheduled until the end of next week. I’m supposed to be on a trip with my wife!”

“Sorry to disturb you Congressman Burns,” Ricky whispered as he tapped away on his tablet, “but we have a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”, Paul sighed in resignation.

“All of the major election analysts switched your district from ‘safe’ to ‘competitive’ this morning! Do you know what this means!”

“That Schaeffer’s poll numbers went up because he finally figured out how to string a complete sentence together?”, Paul answered sarcastically.

“It means that we need to really step up our game if you want to get reelected!”

“And you flew, and then drove, 4 hours from DC to tell me that?”

“Congressman Burns, with respect, you hired me to help you win. I can do that but, for me to be able to you need to listen to me.”

Paul sighed again. “I know Ricky, I know. I’m sorry I got mad at you, but you’ve been on top of me every minute of every day since June with this campaign. I need a break or I’m going to burn out. And besides, I promised my wife we’d take this trip and it’s really important to both of us.”

“Which, Congressman Burns, is why I found a way for you to get your trip and boost your campaign at the same time!”, Ricky replied excitedly.

Paul just stared quizzically.

“The reason why Schaeffer is gaining ground despite being, well, kind of…”

“A moron.”, Paul added flatly.

“The reason Schaeffer is gaining ground is because he has excellent social media presence. His campaign’s Instagram has almost twice as many followers as yours does, and he’s already been Retweeted by the Speaker! You need to boost your presence or he’s going to swamp us!”

Paul had a slightly worried look on his face.

“So, what I was thinking we could do, is I could follow you and your wife around and take some shots of you two just waling around, you know, acting like a normal married couple. Post them on the socials and boom, you’re Mister Happily Married Congressman and Schaeffer is toast!”

Paul put his hand to his chin as he mulled the plan over.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”, Susan said out of the corner of her mouth as she elbowed Paul in the ribs. They were walking along Port Powell’s 19rh-century boardwalk, with Ricky, still tapping away on his tablet, trailing a few feet behind.

“Honey, I know you don’t like the man, but I’ve found it’s easier to just go along with whatever crazy scheme he has going than to try and fight it. Soon enough he’ll be on to something else, and then we can finally get some peace.”

“Paul, it’s not just that I think your campaign manager is weird, or the fact that he’s basically married to that damn tablet.”, Susan continued exasperatedly. “It’s that you promised that this weekend would be just us. This is important to you, I understand that. But I’ve been patient for a long time, and I really think you’re not being fair to me here.”

“I know honey, I know. I’m really sorry about this. I’ll just let him take a couple pictures of us, he’ll leave, and then it’ll be just us for the whole weekend. OK?”

Susan seemed skeptical, but silently nodded her head in agreement.

Paul held her hand as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

Their first stop along the boardwalk was Cole’s Ice Cream. There were a lot of ice cream places on the boardwalk, but Cole’s was the oldest and, according to most people, the best. Paul and Susan had spent a lot of time there when they first met, and it was very special to both of them.

They strolled over to the order window. Just as Paul was about to give his order, Ricky tapped him on the shoulder.

“Congressman Burns,” he whispered, “what flavor are you getting?”

Paul gave him a quizzical look as he turned his head to face him.

“Fudge ripple. It’s what I always get.”

“Uh Congressman, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Why is that, Ricky?”, Paul replied in an exasperated tone. “Let me guess: Schaeffer poisoned the ice cream.”, he continued mockingly.

“Congressman, you may like fudge ripple, but recent polling data shows that, in your district, mint chip is the most popular flavor. It would be better optics if you got mint chip.”

Paul could tell me the look on Ricky’s face that he was completely serious.

“But I don’t like mint chip.”

“Congressman, the polls…”

Paul silently turned back to the order window.

“One large mint chip, please.”, he sighed in resignation.

Eventually, Paul and Susan made it to the little Italian restaurant where they had had their first date all those years ago. They were given a candlelit table for two by a window overlooking the sea. It was the perfect romantic evening. Or, it would have been, except it was actually a table for three, and Paul and Susan’s romantic quiet was disrupted by the Ricky’s endless tapping and clicking on his tablet.

“Congressman Burns, great photos of you and your wife at Cole’s! Your follower count is already up by 35 since I posted them!”

“That’s nice, Ricky.”, Paul answered disinterestedly, clearly trying to ignore him and tend to his scowling wife instead.

“Alright, now remember, neither of you order anything with spaghetti for dinner. It’s messy to eat, and that’s not good optics. Besides, spaghetti is considered somewhat “boomer” right now. Don’t want to look old, now do we?”

“Ricky”, Paul hissed, rapidly losing patience, “I am a United States Congressman, your boss, and, more to the point, an adult man. If I want to order spaghetti, I’m going to order spaghetti.”

“Alright Congressman, your call.”, Ricky chattered on, oblivious to how obnoxious his third-wheeling was becoming. “But, in that case, we’ll need to amp things up a bit to compensate.”

Paul and Susan both looked at him with worried stares.

“I’ve got it!”, Ricky almost shouted. He slid his chair in closer to the table so he could speak to them quietly.

“Everyone loves a hero, right? And everyone loves a devoted husband, right? Well, we’ll make you into both!”

The silent, worried looks continued.

“Mrs. Burns, when the food comes, you pretend to choke, and the Congressman can save you! I’ll film the whole thing and upload it to Instagram! Your accounts will blow up, and Schaeffer won’t be able to do a thing about it!”

Susan looked as if she was about to throw a punch. Paul gently raised his hand to signal her to stop.

“Ricky, can I speak with you outside for a moment?”, Paul asked quietly.

“Of course, Congressman!”

Paul put his arm around Ricky’s shoulder and leaned in close as they began to walk down the pier in front of the restaurant.

“So, Congressman, are we go for the choking plan?”

“Ricky, you need to leave. Like, now.”, Paul said, quietly but tensely.

“So, you don’t like the choking plan?”

“Of course I don’t like the choking plan!”, Paul hissed angrily. “It’s psychotic! Who has his wife pretend to choke for an Instagram video! Who does that! Who tells someone else to do that!”

“OK Congressman Burns, I can see you don’t like that idea. How about we…”

“Ricky, how about YOU get out of here and leave me and my wife alone like we were supposed to be in the first place!”

“B-but Schaeffer. The election. Our metrics…”, Ricky stammered.

“Fuck Schaeffer, fuck the election, fuck our metrics!”, Paul shouted. “My wife is more important to me than this crap! Don’t you get that! God, I can’t believe that I have to lecture someone half my age on work-life balance! I feel like an op-ed piece right now!

Ricky stared, open-mouthed, as he tapped away on his tablet.

“And give me that damn tablet Ricky! I am so sick of that thing, and stupid polls and socials!”

Paul snatched Ricky’s tablet out of his hands and flung it like a Frisbee over the edge of the pier and into the ocean.

“No! My data!”, Ricky yelled. In one swift motion he bolted to the railing of the pier, climbed on top of it, and leapt into the ocean after his doomed tablet.

“Well, that was the hospital. They said Ricky has a few bruises but he should be all right. They're going to hold him overnight for observation just in case.”, Paul said tiredly as he hung up the phone. “Tomorrow morning I’ll go down there and try to smooth things over with him.”

“Well, that’s good.”, Susan replied. She was already in bed in her pajamas.

“I mean, who does that? What kind of a nutcase dives into the ocean to get a tablet back?”

“The same kind of nutcase that screams at his campaign manager and hurls his tablet into the ocean, perhaps?”, Susan joked as Paul began to change into his pajamas.

“Well, maybe I did overreact a little bit. But he’d been pushing me and pushing me all day. Besides, we both agreed that he needed to go.”

“Go home, not go for a swim”, Susan laughed. “We’re just lucky the water is only 3 feet deep off that pier.”

“I can see the headlines now.”, Paul groaned as he got into bed next to Susan. “’Rogue Congressman tries to drown campaign manager’, they’ll say.”

“Oh, no they won’t dear. Besides, Ricky confirmed to the police that he dove in voluntarily, so it’s not like there’s some big coverup or scandal here."

“In Washington everything on Earth is a scandal, honey. But”, Paul said as he turned to Susan and stroked her cheek,” I’d rather lose an election than lose my mind, or my wife.”

Susan smiled.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”