MIRROR IMAGE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The first glitch in Eddy's carefully orchestrated campaign trip occurred on the third day. They were in Houston. Early that morning Tate had made an impassioned breakfast speech to a rowdy audience of longshoremen. He was well received. Upon their return to the downtown hotel, Eddy went to his room to answer telephone calls that had come in during their absence. Everyone else gathered in Tate's suite. Jack buried himself in the morning newspapers, scouring them for stories relating to Tate, his opponent, or the election in general.  Avery sat on the floor with Mandy, who was scribbling in a Mickey Mouse coloring book.

Tate stretched out on the bed, propping the pillows behind his head. He turned on the television set to watch a game show. The questions were asinine, the contestants frenzied, the host obnoxious, but often something that inane relaxed his mind and opened up new avenues of thought. The best ideas came to him when he wasn't concentrating.

Nelson and Zee were working a crossword puzzle together. Eddy interrupted the restful scene. He barged into the room, as excited as Tate had ever seen him. "Switch that thing off and listen."

Tate used the remote control to silence the TV.

"Well," he said with an expectant laugh, "you've got everybody's attention, Mr. Paschal."

''One of the largest Rotary Clubs in the state is meeting at noon today. It's their most important meeting of the year. New officers are being sworn in, and wives are invited. Their scheduled speaker called in sick this morning. They want you."

Tate sat up and swung his long legs over the side of the bed. "How many people?"

"Two-fifty, three hundred." Eddy was riffling through the papers in his briefcase. ''These are top businessmen and professionals—pillars of the community. Oldest Rotary Club in Houston. Its members have lots of money, even in these depressed times. Here," he said, thrusting several sheets of paper at Tate, "this was a hell of a speech you gave in Amarillo last month. Glance over it. And for God's sake, get out of that chambray and denim and put on a conservative suit."

"This crowd sounds more like Dekker people."

"They are. That's why it's important that you go. Dekker's made you out to be a kid with his head in the clouds, at best, or a wacko liberal, at worst. Show them you've got both feet on the ground and that you don't have horns and a pointed tail." He glanced over his shoulder. "You're invited, too, Carole. Look your charming best. The women—"

"I can't be there."

Everyone's attention abruptly shifted from Eddy to her, where she still sat on the floor with Mandy, holding a selection of crayons in her hand and a picture of Donald Duck in her lap. "Mandy's appointment with Dr. Webster is at one o'clock today."

"Crap." Tate plowed his hand through his hair. "That's right. I'd forgotten."

Eddy divided his disbelieving gaze between them. ''You can't even consider throwing away this opportunity. We're up one point in the polls this week, Tate, but we're still trailing by a dismal margin. This speech could mean a lot of campaign dollars—dollars we need to buy TV commercial time."

Jack tossed his folded newspaper aside. "Make another appointment with this doctor.''

"What about it, Carole?" Tate asked.

"You know how hard this one was to come by. I probably wouldn't be able to get another one for weeks. Even if I could, I don't believe it would be in Mandy's best interest to postpone."

Tate watched his brother, father, and campaign manager exchange telling glances.  They wanted him to make a speech to this influential crowd of Rotarians, and they were right. These conservatives, staunch Dekker supporters, needed to be convinced that he was a viable candidate and not a hotheaded upstart.  When he looked down at his wife, however, he could feel the strength behind her calm gaze. He would be damned either way he went. "Christ."