Free Waltzing at Midnight by Robbi McCoy Page A

Rosie once we were all settled. He was clearly on guard.
    “We want to join forces with you against Kiester,” Rosie said bluntly. “I want to help Mike win the election.”
    The two men did not hide their amazement. “Why?” Garcia asked.
    “Because I’ve lost my chance at it. You haven’t.”
    “But I’m way behind,” he said. “I’m behind you, Rosie.”
    “I know. But we can change that. At least Jean thinks we can, and I trust her instincts.” Rosie glanced at me and the look she 62
     
    gave me washed over me like a warm bath. She looked back at the two men and leaned toward them. “Tomorrow I’m going to tape an interview with David Foster. In it, I’m going to confirm the rumor, give them what they want to hear and the only thing they care about now. I expect that to prompt the gay community to come out on my side. Right now, they’re lukewarm about me because I haven’t come out in public.”
    Garcia and Appleton sat transfixed. Rosie had them in her spell. “They’ll swing instantly behind me,” Rosie continued.
    “Gays and lesbians are more politically active than many groups, unlike, for instance, Latinos. That’s another issue we need to address. You’ve got to get the Hispanic community to the voting booths. Only fifteen percent turned out in the last local election. When you consider that we have a forty-three percent minority population here, their potential strength, if they vote, is enormous. We’ve got to get them to the polls. If we can do that, you win. It’s as simple as that.”
    “Rosie,” Garcia said, looking suddenly boyish, “I don’t have any money.”
    “I know that, Mike. That’s why I’m going to be campaigning for you too. My staff is your staff. In the interview tomorrow, we’ll get David Foster to ask me something about you. I’ll say you’re a decent fellow. I can’t exactly appear to endorse you, but it will have the same effect. It will get people looking at you. And then we both attack Kiester. I’ll draw back some of my support in the time that’s left. You’ll draw the rest, and together we’ll bury him.”
    Garcia and Appleton looked at each other wordlessly.
    “You do want the job, don’t you?” Rosie asked.
    “Yes, yes, I do. I just never thought I had a chance.”
    “You do, Mike. You’re the long shot who’s going to come from behind and sweep the race.” Rosie shook his hand warmly.
    She was beautiful—buoyant and vibrant. She flashed me a brilliant smile.
    The following day we went to the television studio. I was nervous. So was she. The set was furnished with a chair for the 63
     
    guest, a chair for Foster, a coffee table containing a water pitcher and glasses, and an artificial plant. Rosie went in for makeup before the show and came out a few minutes before airtime, looking splendid in black slacks, a conservative tan jacket and a print blouse. Before taking her chair, she winked in my direction.
    There was no audience, just the crew. The interview would be taped and aired later, before the local news. I had already spoken to Foster and prepared him. It had been no problem getting Rosie’s cancelled time slot back once I explained what we wanted to do. Foster promised to take it easy on Rosie. He could afford to, as he was getting such a scoop—Rosie would be coming out on his show.
    As the cameras hummed, he introduced her and began to chat about the course of the election. She sat with her legs crossed, looking relaxed. How did she do it? I was so nervous that I’d pushed my thumb through my Styrofoam coffee cup without even being aware of it until the coffee started running across my hand.
    “Your popularity has declined dramatically,” Foster said,
    “since speculation about your sexual orientation surfaced. In the only public statement you’ve made on the subject, you refused to address it. That has led, predictably, to further speculation that by not denying the rumor, you’re confirming it. Would you like to