A year was far too long a period of time. While Theresa might be milking it for all its worth, the sight from Julian’s background perspective wasn’t as flattering. Surely that’s how voters see it, too. No one likes waiting for deliverance.
“She’ll pull through, I’m sure,” Julian says, shrugging. It was a passionless statement, without so much as a shadow of trust in the President they talked about. “But only if we help.”
At that, Julian nods. Now you’re seeing it from the right angle. “If.” Two letters bound together which made a sound just right for Julian’s ears. It gave off enough uncertainty to keep all weight off his shoulders; at least for now. “The reception in the Senate hasn’t been great, even amongst the Democrats. And, you said it yourself, numbers don’t lie. If there’s a tie I’d vote for it, of course—” Of course. “But we might be looking at a loss here.”
“How does the President’s Strategist say we prepare?”
Jamie shifted his weight forward, an elbow on each knee, and glanced up at Julian from beneath his brow. "If we help,” he echoed, incredulity curving the corners of lips into a smirk. “There’s another option?” With the question, his eyes fell to the royal blue rug peeking out from beneath the soles of his shoes. Jamie shook his head, hands clasped in the empty space between his legs. Obama’s own warm beige rug was long gone, rolled up and out of the White House the very day Theresa had taken her oath of office. Other things were gone, too -- but here, he remained.
The silence following Julian’s question was so loud that he could almost hear his own thoughts churning. As if they hadn’t spent months preparing for every eventuality, including this one. “Well, yeah, loss is always possible with something of this magnitude. If the bill fails, it's because it’s too ambitious. We frame it that way, too,” he said, pulling his hands apart to gesture in Julian’s direction. “And the thing is, most Americans believe that protecting the environment is more important than energy production. So it’s absurd, really -- we both know that Mitch McConnell doesn’t actually care about miners in, say, West Virginia. Coal employs fewer people now than fuckin’ Arby’s.”
Jamie leaned back into the couch cushions again, jiggling his heel up and down until he found the words to continue. “So we can paint the Republicans with a broad brush, there -- obstructionist, unwilling to negotiate, even on something as important as this. Because when it comes down to it, Americans actually do care. So obviously, we change the narrative. The bill’s failure wouldn't be a loss for us, it’d be a loss for the nation -- for the world,” he said, eyes sliding over the decorative molding that curved around the ceiling like a necktie, only half-aware of Julian’s continued presence in the room. “We take stock, lick our wounds, double down somewhere else. Make some compromises, and try again in the summer,” he said, turning to look towards the Vice President, small smile on his face. “Might be easier to pass once everyone’s sweating again. Make them think about why it’s so goddamned hot.”
