Then there were Beth and Suzanne. Beth was one girl I loved without any hesitation. I’d known her the longest, even longer than Tami. She’d always accepted me for who I was. Our families would be ecstatic if we ended up together. Suzanne was my ‘Ice Princess.’ I’d long had a special place in my heart for both of them.
If I did end up with either of them, I’d want to go to college at the same place. While Purdue and Northwestern were solid schools, their football programs were questionable. I might get them to follow me wherever I ended up. That would be something we would need to work out.
Two girls who were right in front of me, but I’d never seriously considered, were Tracy and Cassidy. I always liked Tracy, but I didn’t believe we’d work anytime soon. I would want to make sure she matured and got control of her issues before I’d ever think of us as more than friends. It seriously surprised me I would consider Tracy, but our friendship had been growing over the last two years.
Cassidy. Now she was someone I could see myself with. While I couldn’t stand her brother, I respected her father enough to not take our friendship to where I believe both Cassidy and I would be happy. I knew she cared about me, and I cared about her. It was a case of becoming good friends before there was romance.
I shook my head. Was I really ready for the next step? No, not yet, but I could see there would be a time when I would be. I had a lot of soul-searching to do before that day came.
◊◊◊
I took the elevator down for breakfast, and the senator wasn’t there yet. He’d reserved a table for six. Ian, Ava, and Brook soon joined me at the table. The server brought me hot water and lemon slices for tea. She also brought coffee and juices in carafes so we could serve ourselves. The senator and his daughter arrived right on time.
“Ian, Ava, so good to see you again. I hear you know David. Have you met my daughter?” Senator Dixon said by way of introduction.
“Yes, we met yesterday at Northern. This is my daughter Brook,” Ian said.
“I may have to leave early. There are still concerns about what happened in California. There are worries it might be the precursor to additional attacks,” the senator shared.
“So, it was a terrorist attack?” Ian asked.
“I don’t believe that’s the language the president is using until we can verify what happened. The FBI has to treat it as such for now. Right now, we have fourteen dead and twenty-two seriously injured. More would have been hurt or killed if they’d been able to detonate their bomb. Unfortunately, they were shot and killed, so we may never know why they did it,” Senator Dixon said.
“Where were they from?” I asked.
“The husband was born right here in Chicago, but his parents had emigrated from Pakistan. He grew up in California. His wife was born in Pakistan but lived most of her life in Saudi Arabia. What simply baffles me is they left a six-month-old daughter behind. I could never do that,” Senator Dixon said.
That put a damper on the conversation. We ordered breakfast and ate. Towards the end, the senator got to the point of our meeting.
“Ian, Ava, I want to thank you for your support over the years. I expect I’ll be fine money-wise for the upcoming election, but if you wanted to send some money my way, that would be great. You know that if you or your family need to be heard, my door will always be open.
“What I’d like to suggest is that you give to targeted campaigns across the country. There are going to be some key battleground elections, and we’ll need your help.”
“Just let us know. I have a couple of checks from various family members for you,” Ava said as she got an envelope out of her purse.
My grandma had given me two envelopes, one for the senator and the other for the governor. The way election laws worked, you could give up to $2,700 per election to a candidate as an individual. The primary would count as one election, and the general would be separate. She’d withdrawn money from my account and gotten money orders for Greg and Angie, Mom and Dad, Uncle John and Aunt Bonnie, herself, and me. Before all was said and done, I’d shelled out $21,600 for each candidate, or $43,200 total for now. Another $43,200 would be donated once they won the primaries. My grandmother told me it was a down payment on my future.
I handed Senator Dixon my envelope.
“Thank you. This is something I hate to do, but it’s the way they’ve set up the system.”
After breakfast, Brook and I grabbed an elevator so we could change for the day’s activities.
“So, did that put a dent in your allowance this week?” I teased.
“Are you trying to figure out if you should date me for my money?”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to a sugar mama. Do you think you can keep me fed and clothed?” I asked.
“Probably not; I’ve seen you eat. I might have to ask for a loan to pay for that.”
We got off the elevator to find an anxious Max.
“Hurry up. We got a call from the University of Chicago saying that there’s already a line to get in.”
