"Little" Sister Pt. 06

Morning ablutions were from cold spring water. There was a shower tank, but no one used it in the morning, because the afternoon sun heated the water. Warm water showers were scheduled. Those with the winning tickets also had to fill the shower tank for for the next day. Anyone could take a cold shower, but he would still have to help fill the tank.

After a massive breakfast, I climbed back in my boat and headed for civilization. Two guys came with me, to do grocery shopping. I let them keep the boat for the duration, with the understanding that they also maintained it. During the hour at the A&P, I wondered why two men were shopping. It finally occurred to me that they did not want me alone with just one of them. Me, needing a chaperon. Who'd a thunk it?

All in all, it was an educational stop over.

Chapter 30 -- Winter Wonderland

The timing for my trip to Cloudrest proved inspired. The rest of October turned nasty. Sleet and freezing rain do not make for good driving, but boating is even worse. November brought stormy weather, followed by a brief warm spell. At my suggestion, a set of cameras were stationed on Cloudrest's hilltop, giving 24 hour video coverage of things like the main house, the Woodshop and a set of weather instruments.

Vivian wrote program to time track the temperature, humidity, barometer, rain/snowfall and wind speed. She considered it trivial. It was one more detail that was going into the growing list of video and other projects. Another camera recorded the sunsets. I gave them to Sheila. She created a screen saver with the sunsets from November. Sean was giving them to clients as a Christmas Card. I looked forward to one that did the whole year.

My Alderman position had settled into a siege. Every time I tried to use "my" City of Nashua resources to do something, it would be blocked. That meant I needed to be creative. Most of the needed information I could get from the internet or my little old lady circles. I was even learning bridge. Elspeth was already an accomplished cardsharp, but we were both learning mahjong.

I should mention Elspeth's role in Nashua. It goes without saying that she handled all the paperwork and most of the negotiations. She was also a Lady among my ladies. Her Boston breeding was the cause of great envy and, probably, much discussion. It did not hurt that Elspeth loved to gossip.

Naturally, I was a favorite subject. There was a lot of concern when I showed no interest in the various men that the ladies paraded in front of me. I can be dense, because I never noticed until Elspeth pointed them out to me. When Elspeth explained about Siemens, and where Lars had been posted, sympathy gushed out. Several of the ladies were military wives during Vietnam or the Gulf War.

Elspeth was also the conduit for another one of our core team. While I was in Concord all summer, trying to prime the pump, Elspeth was shuttling between Boston and Nashua, acting as my eyes, ears and voice. As the ongoing projects at Cloudrest grew, she started having communications problems with tech speak.

I would have called one of Sean's people or Richard Willingham. Elspeth chose to ask around Nashua. One of my ladies had a nephew attending Rochester Institute of Technology (RIT). He dumped a summer job at Target to serve as Elspeth's tech liaison. His name was Leon L. Lusk, a.k.a. Trip.

Trip did not have many obvious assets, other than being a nerd. His high school grades were top notch, but grades at RIT were only so-so. Though still an undergrad, he was already twenty four years old. Worse, his study path was laser physics. However, he understood both computer and communications tech-speak. I figured, why not? He would work cheap, it would look good on his resume and he would enjoy it. So it proved.

The problem was that he wanted to keep working, rather than finish his degree. I had been there, done that and wanted none of it. While I was still in Concord, we spoke on the phone. At my insistence, he went back to finish at RIT. We first met on a cold, rainy day just before Thanksgiving. I almost slapped my forehead for missing the obvious. The short version is Richard Willingham, without the breeding.

I once told Elspeth that I thought she would make an exceptional wife and mother. One look at Trip Lusk told me she could be his wife and the mother of his children. The urgent question was what to do about it, what Sheila calls her inner yenta. I tried to avoid conflict by asking personal questions. Unlike most people, Trip did not react badly. I suspect he had never managed a big date, so he had not been interrogated by a girl's father.

The situation was like something from a romance novel. Trip had a successful father, which I already deduced from what I knew of his mother. While this was good in some ways, it was difficult in others. Trip's father was an account representative for Allied Chemical. As a salesman, he was often away from home. When they were together, Trip was not the sort of boy his father admired—asocial, non-athletic, indifferent to status and not at all entrepreneurial.

It was so much like my own story, my heart ached. I could also see immediately why Elspeth was both drawn to him and repulsed. Elspeth wanted a firm hand. Trip gave directions as naturally as breathing, but no one ever listened. There were many reasons for this, starting with his clothing. They were a male geek version of my own baggy clothes and army boots.

I had another of those moments when many things suddenly made more sense. Sean had a genius for seeing potential under the surface. Once I recognized camouflage for what it was, the person underneath became easy to see. Trip was uncomplicated and direct, because his mind did not process many of the status symbols that others used. A lifetime of peer abuse made him shy, which conflicted with his natural tendency to take charge. Loyalty was both his most valuable asset and the trait he valued most.

I said, "Trip, I am glad we finally meet. If you were in charge of the renovations, what would you do?"

For the next hour he talked nonstop. There were at least twenty ideas no one else had floated. On the other hand, his viewpoint was very narrow. He only knew the things that were going on locally in Nashua. If nothing else, I needed to widen that horizon. The first thing that caused him to falter was Elspeth.

She was as perfect as a male geek was likely to meet. Elspeth was attractive, dressed well, spoke well and never fumbled a social grace. In a sense, though Trip never made the connection, Elspeth was his father's ideal daughter-in-law. More realistically, Elspeth excelled where Trip was lacking.

The symmetry, of course, was that Trip excelled where Elspeth was lacking. The difficulty would normally be in getting them to trust each other. That hurdle was already passed. They already found each other attractive, though Trip did not truly believe it of Elspeth. What they needed was time together. That I could arrange, but first things first. I asked Trip how fast he could get a degree, any degree.

The answer was one I might have given. He could take twenty hours in the spring and graduate after summer session, provided he could get his project done. The trick would be getting the project done, on top of the class overload. Easy peasy. I picked up the phone and called George. Trip would go to California, to develop his project, between finals and New Year. He could tweak the paperwork during the semester. That handled academics.

Next, he would be getting a makeover. Been there, done that, recommend it. In this I conspired with Elspeth and his mother. My rules were very specific. They could do his hair. Everything else he had to pay for. There was an argument, but they both understood the logic. I unbent a bit, by allowing Trip's mother to give him a $100 prepaid card. That would not go far in a mall, but Elspeth knew how to get creative.

Before they left, I gave Trip a box of condoms and the motel address where I had made them a reservation. I was very specific that I wanted Trip to give Elspeth the condoms. She would carry them and she would apply them. They both knew the theory of coitus, but neither knew the practice. To help out, I gave him a checklist of erogenous zones to inspect. If that was not enough of a map, we were in trouble.

Sunday proved my worries unfounded. Trip's disheveled hair looked intentionally disheveled. The jeans were well faded and clung to his ass. The T-shirt was from a concert, not a physics project. All this was beside the point. Trip could not stop smiling, Elspeth could not stop blushing and neither could stop looking at the other. I left Elspeth with Trip's mother and took Trip to a coffee shop.

Coffee is a great way to waste time while someone else fills the silence. Trip gave me a lesson in my own tactics. I was ready for a warm up before he finished adding creamer and sugar. Oh well. When he finally took a sip, I asked if all the effort was worth cold coffee. To give him credit, he caught an extra level to my comment. Baby steps.

I told him that fussing with coffee, or cigarettes, or personal grooming, or whatever, could be used to allow another person the first word. On the other hand, it could be rude. If he was with another person, he needed to be with them. That's a line form Hitch, which is about paying attention to the other person. Trip did not identify with Albert, but he could see Elspeth as Allegra Cole.

What made things click was when I said Hitch did not mold the parts of Albert that Allegra liked. To the contrary, Allegra liked what other people joked about, spilling mustard, dancing badly, using an inhaler. It was a big leap, but Trip was a smart guy. He worked his way from being picky and exacting about coffee, to being picky and exacting about Elspeth. When the realization dawned I said, "Elspeth likes a firm hand."

I could say that they became engaged at that point and not be far off. Once Trip had a clear objective and reason to believe it was possible, I needed to apply brakes. I told him that he should continue to use Elspeth for fashion advice. He needed to include her in his decision process. Elspeth did not want to make decisions, but she did want to have input.

I told him of Sean's relationship with Sheila. Sheila was one of the most competent people I knew, but she did not have permission to speak to Sean. Instead, she might ask permission to ask a question. If you knew Sheila, that was plenty of slack. For his part, Sean asked for her opinion—a lot.

Since she came up, I called the Residence. Sean was working late, so I called his office. I told him I would be asking Sheila to bring Cindy to Nashua and then to Boston. Sean said, "Sure." This was not purely form. When I called Sheila, I informed her that I had already talked to Sean. Then we discussed a possible trip. Trip drank it all in.

That was the last I saw of him before his graduation the following August, but Elspeth provided me with all the details. When Trip first laid out what he intended to do to accelerate his graduation, Elspeth made it sound like a labor of Heracles. The payoff, for both of them, was that Trip would propose with his diploma in hand. Submissives appreciate a Dominant that can and will self discipline. Judging from the smell, the thought made Elspeth wet. I wasn't ready for what happened next.

Elspeth threw her arms around me and crushed herself to my breast. She kept muttering, "You told me. You told me." I once told her that she should pay attention to men who had deficient social skills. It was ironic, because I needed to know how Trip would feel about me. Sean lets Sheila play with other girls. Until I knew how Trip felt, Elspeth and I would do no more than hug. Sometimes being a grownup sucks.

On the political front, my dance with the Republican party was nearing its end. After months of waffling and false starts, a group of donors agreed to my terms. I signed an agreement with them and began filing paperwork and posting announcements. Violá, I was an official candidate for election in New Hampshire's 2^nd Congressional District. Be still my beating heart.

I made it as hard as reasonably possible, because I was not sure I wanted the headache of a campaign. That said, I knew I was gold for the Republicans—female, bisexual, double PhD with honors. The Democrats were once the party of the working man. That ended during Ronald Reagan, but the mythos persisted. I was proof that Republicans could be tolerant and educated. Big Whoop.

During negotiations I steadfastly refused offers of "help", from various lobbying firms, media consultants and fund raiser/money managers. Usually these were what I call in-family. While the business or agent was not related by blood, there was a kickback built in somewhere. A couple of the references were to literal family members. One time this fact was disclosed along with the recommendation. I gave the guy a gold star when the cousin turned out to have a good reputation.

Mostly, such recommendations were a form of payback for services rendered. I did not need to pay off someone else's debts. Instead, I consulted the Governor, Sean and Francine. The Governor was gracious. We had a very open and well publicized tea, along with twenty other consultants (read lobbyists). I passed her aide a note. When I left, a different aide passed me a note with several names and numbers. Face to face, the Governor asked me how I had managed to impress Adele so quickly. I replied that I owed her a big favor.

Sean's reply was a list of law firms and consulting firms in Washington DC, with notes on what they did and for whom. He also suggested I call his local Congressman, which was a Good Idea. I arranged a thirty minute meeting, when he was in District, rather than in Washington. That trip to New Jersey was well worth my time.

Representative Leonard was happy to tell me of some of the pitfalls. When we talked about funding, he was impressed with my personal knowledge of the Who's Who of Manhattan banking. By the end of the hour and a half we spent together, I had a solid contact and potential ally in Washington. He personally called his campaign manager to make an introduction. I did not hire him, but he referred me to a young gun, Thomas A. "Tommy" Reilly.

My meeting with Mr. Reilly did not start well. Rather than go to him, I asked that he come to me. He was young and ambitious. I should have known he expected at least a touch of deferral. When he arrived, I offered coffee. He wanted tea. Fortunately, I had recently visited my thesis advisor at Yale, Dr. Gupta. As was his custom, he begged me to take some of the tea his family constantly sent. I think I surprised Mr. Reilly by reacting to his request with enthusiasm. Looking back, he was playing tit for tat. Live and learn.

It suffices to say that Mr. Reilly agreed to take me on as a client. He would review my campaign mail, recommend survey firms, interpret polling data, sign off on advertising and anything else that could be done from Washington. My responsibility was to get him data to analyze. In this I was lucky. New Hampshire (and Iowa) are the mother lode of polling firms. Top drawer statistics work was available very affordably.

Francine did not reply. In her patented fashion, she made an entrance, while towing three recent film school graduates. I was in Nashua, preparing for an Alderman's Board meeting. Francine simply showed up at one of my informal lady's teas. At the door she said, "Where's that too tall bitch that wants to run for Congress?" and swept in without asking permission.

I said, "Ladies, I would like you to meet Francine Martel. Please excuse her language. She's smarter than she sounds." Francine started to reply before she laughed. One for me.

Things unbent enough to give the three film makers their audition. I told them to talk with the ladies for a few minutes, then I would quiz them on what they learned about me. To get Francine in the kitchen, I only needed to mention coffee. After a very sincere hug, she gave me a brutal precis on each of the young men. Francine does not pull punches for anyone, about anything. Unfortunately, that was quick.

Rather than listen to her ramble about other things, I asked Francine for pictures of Michael, her son. That allowed the other ladies to ooh and ah for a while. Before I left for my meeting, I introduced Francine to Trip's mother. Trip would soon be going to California, to work on his graduation project with my brother George. I suspected Francine's people would provide an education of another sort. Don't ask, don't tell.

The Alderman's meeting promised to be difficult. The largest contract for the water quality project had recently gone to a Manchester firm. Dean and Dowd had worked hard to secure it for their own people. They suspected I queered their sweetheart deal. In a sense, the D's may have been right. I made sure that public information was available to the public, in spite of attempts to hide or steal it.

In any event, my three candidates worked out well for me. Having three new people making recordings proved a distraction. They also reminded everyone that I was seeking higher office. The recordings themselves were a goldmine of goodwill. My three candidates had a lot of fun and may have learned something.

Their cheap-enough-to-travel equipment was vastly better than the old video-tape machine the city used. What they could do in a few minutes would impress someone that had never seen Sheila do magic with images. I suspect the losers for my audition would be able to drum up similar business, now that they knew what to look for.

That was the next order of business. The four of us went to an IHOP. I gave them fifteen minutes to crop out thirty seconds of video and a few still shots. Two of them did thirty seconds of me doing very little. The one I chose was by Frank Monomanaluga. Rather than focus on me, he focused on everyone else. His technique was to record a speech and take stills of reactions, time synched to the speech. He absolutely nailed Paul Dean bad mouthing the Mayor.

I thanked the other two for coming, then looked for the table with the most food. Sure enough, Francine was still trying to gain a few ounces. I struggle to lose an ounce, but would not trade with her for the world. Her comment, "It figures. He's a Sheila fan." She may be blond, but she's not stupid. I spent the drive to the motel explaining to Frank that his cinematic idol was my sister-in-law.

Back to work. It's what you do when you want to get laid and your fiancé was on another continent.