It's Been a Long, Long Time

It didn’t come as a surprise when the House of Representatives passed the Superhuman Registration Act. Everyone in the world of politics had been anxiously waiting for the news to break, expecting to hear of it at any moment. In fact, the only thing truly surprising about it was how long it had taken to be brought to a vote. With the immense national support the legislation had, everyone thought that it’d be brought to a vote earlier on, but there’d been issues that needed working out, and Congressman and women whom had formerly announced their support for the bill, had retracted it. There was still an overwhelming majority support in the house, but eleven votes that had once been pledged, had been lost due to the minority of the American population that viewed the bill with distrust. They didn’t believe it necessary to the preservation of America to force superhuman Americans to register with the government, it was an infringement of their God given rights as Americans, and those people made their voices heard to their representatives, which led to their representatives voting against the bill, but those eleven votes were of no true importance, there were 296 other votes that supported the bill, and with those votes, the legislation easily passed the House.

Verena was in the middle of a meeting with the Senate Foreign Relations Subcommittee on Western Hemisphere, Peace Corps, and Narcotic Affairs, when the news broke. She didn’t find out about it right away. None of her fellow committee members did. They were far too engrossed in debating whether or not to bring a bill to the floor that would’ve allowed the American government to send in troops to Mexico to help combat the Drug War. They knew it was a stretch, but with violence pouring into Southwest states, they had to do something. The Mexican government alone couldn’t combat the drug cartels, they didn’t have the means to do so, but politicians were weary of engaging in combat on another foreign soil, they’d had enough of wars in the last decade. It was because of that that they spent their entire morning debating which provisions could be changed to appeal to the right, which ones were nonnegotiable for the Democrats, and which ones the moderates would be pleased with.

It was a stressful morning for the Senators present, and when they adjourned for the day, all Verena wanted was to lock herself in her office and have a drink to get the edge off, but when she and her legal advisors stepped out of the restricted room, they were met by Wilson, whom looked more anxious than he had on election night.

“What’s the matter with you?” asked Verena as she handed off her files to Elizabeth, her legislative director. “Did you get into an argument with Dwyer’s assistant, again?”

“No, Ma’am. I didn’t get into an argument with him. I, well, this doesn’t really have to do with me. It’s the House.”

“What about the House?”

“They passed the SRA.”

It wasn’t a surprise. Verena had known all along that the bill would be passed, but she . . . well, she had hoped that it would take longer. That somehow the progressives in the House would be able to hold off a vote, but there was no filibuster in the House of Representatives, that was a device only the Senate had, so there was no true way for the progressives to have held off the vote any longer. Things had taken their course, and she knew that it now fell upon the opposition in the Senate to fight against the SRA, and keep it from going to the White House to be signed by the President into law.

“Get Senator Sander’s assistant on the line, tell him I want a meeting as fast as I can get it. Well, what are you waiting for? Get on that!” she shouted at Wilson, she got snippy when she was stressed, a common occurrence among politicians. “Elizabeth, I'm going to need you to go over to Senator Feingold’s office and get in touch with his legislative director. He’s been working on briefings for the progressives, and I hope he’s got them done already, because we fucking need them.”

“I’ll get right on that, Ma’am.” Elizabeth replied.

“And Rodrigo . . .” she closed her eyes, thinking of where she needed him to go. “ . . . I'm going to need you to pay Congressmen Kennedy and Previn a visit, tell them to give you everything they have on the SRA, and also, uh, ask if you can get a meeting with their legislative teams for you and Elizabeth. I need dialogue between our offices. It needs to go back to what it was when I was still in the House. At least until we sort out the SRA problem.”

“I’ll head over to their offices right after I drop the files off at yours.” Rodrigo told her.

She pursed her lips. “No, that won’t do. I need you to go right away. So just leave everything from the meeting with me, the same goes for you, Elizabeth. I don’t need you two wasting time, so come on, just hand them over.”

“Are you sure you don’t want us to carry them back?” asked Elizabeth. “I think there might be a few too many to manage.”

“We’ll manage.” Verena’s tone made it clear that there would be no further discussion.

Knowing very well that it was best to do as they were instructed, they handed off their materials to Verena, and walked off in direction of their respective destinations. Verena held onto the stack of binders and folders as best she could. She held onto them until Wilson hung up the phone, and grabbed more than his fair share of the stack.

“I was able to schedule the meeting for later today. It’ll be at half past two, since Senator Sanders is in a committee hearing until two this afternoon,” said Wilson as he fixed the binders in his possession. “Is there anyone else you’d like to schedule a meeting with? Perhaps Senator Feingold or –”

“No. That won’t be necessary. I just needed the meeting with Sanders. Once I’ve met with him, I’ll see where I go from there.” She let out a weary sigh. “For now, we just have to get these files to the office. Sort them, and put them away.”

“Aren’t you supposed to have people to do that for you?” Senator Arthur Lowe from Massachusetts made his presence known, walking away from Senator Williams so he could move towards them. “Or can you not afford it?”

“The government gives me sufficient funds to staff my offices.”

“Does it really?” Senator Lowe stopped a mere foot away from her.

“We don’t all need corporate blood money like you do,” she sneered, eyes narrowed in distaste. “Now get the hell out of my way, I don’t have time for you.”

“Awe, have I said something to offend?”

“Your continued employment is offensive enough.” Her brown, almost black eyes made her contempt clear to him. She’d never been able to stand him, even before he betrayed her best friends; she’d thought him a calculating prick. “But not to worry, you’re up for reelection in two years, and I'm sure the good people of Massachusetts are going to throw your ass out.”

The smirk vanished from his face, and was replaced with a sneer. “You think you’re so clever. Don’t you?”

“No. I don’t think I'm clever. I know I am.” She stepped towards him, eyes locked on his the entire time. “And I know that you’ll never get reelected in Massachusetts, even the purple districts want nothing to do with you. You went too far to the right. You should’ve known better. Then again, I think you just played the part of the left leaning independent to get sent to Washington so you could get your dick wet with corporate America. As soon as you got here you started whoring yourself out.” She paused, enjoying the anger that burned in his eyes. “Awe, have I said something to offend?”

“You bitch.” He growled.

“Bitch . . . really? Is that what you’re trying to offend me with? Honestly, Lowe, I expected better from you. You fooled an entire state into thinking you were a liberal, your insults need to be on that level. But I suppose all the time with the GOP and Fox News has turned your mind to mush. But let me telling you something, there’s nothing offensive about being called a bitch. I am one. Every woman in politics or in any position of power is a bitch. We have to be if we’re going to deal with idiots like you all day. So run along now, go sulk and spread another rumor about me. I loved the last one you announced on Fox. What was it again? Oh, I remember, it was you saying that I was handing out green cards to the undocumented of California.” She chuckled. “You should really try to come up with lies that are somewhat believable. Maybe then you’ll hurt my approval rating. But I don’t think that’ll happen. I'm polling at 76% in my state. Last time I checked, you were at 27%. That must really sting. I can’t begin to imagine how much it must hurt to know that nearly three-quarters of your state disapproves of you. Can you imagine how much that must hurt?” Verena asked Wilson.

“It undoubtedly hurts as much as losing reelection will.” Wilson replied.

He despised Senator Lowe as much as his employer did. And his content didn’t stem from his desire to have similarities with Verena, it stemmed from the fact that Senator Lowe had once spilled coffee on him, and had the nerve to shout at him in front of the entire cafeteria for having gotten in his way. It was humiliation beyond imagining. There were dozens of people watching, most tried not to seem so obvious about it, but he knew they were all staring at him, all judging what was unfolding. Wilson had to actively stop himself from punching that bastard in the face, and ever since then, he held Senator Lowe in contempt.

“Don’t worry, Lowe. I’ll make sure to have Wilson send over a floral arrangement to brighten up your mood.”

“Keep smirking, Faustino, but we both know that in a week or two you’re going to moping around these corridors.”

She cocked her brow, questioningly.

“The SRA is going to pass.” Senator Lowe declared. “It breezed by the House. It’ll do the same in the Senate. Might take a bit longer since there are so many loudmouth progressives, but it’ll pass just the same. And do you want to know something amazing? I'm on the Armed Services Committee. So I’ll be making sure it goes to the floor for a vote.”

“And I’ll talk it to death with a filibuster.” Verena retorted.

“Not if we invoke cloture.”

“Good luck getting the sixty votes you’ll need for that.” She nearly laughed. “Let’s go, Wilson. We’ve wasted enough time.”

She knew she was being rude, so terribly rude, but she couldn’t help it, not when it came to Lowe. He was a venomous snake that knew nothing of loyalty or gratitude. He had turned his back on the Kennedy family, whom had been the main reason why he’d been elected to the Senate in Massachusetts. They had campaigned for him, held dinners and fundraisers in his honor, and he had promised that he would caucus with the Democrats, that he would fight the progressive fight, but only a few days after being elected, he announced that he would caucus with the Republicans, that he had undergone a political awakening, which had changed his political leanings.

Even for the world of politics that had been a shameless act, one of the greatest political betrays of the twenty-first century. Verena had expected Lowe to somehow screw over the Kennedy’s, there was something about him that she just didn’t like, that made her feel uneasy in his presence, but even she hadn’t expected him to be such an ingrate. He had betrayed those whom had brought him to power, and had secured the contempt of the entire Democratic Party in the process. No one on the far left could feel bad for being rude to him. He’d earned their disdain.

By the time Verena arrived at her office, there were staff members from other Senators waiting to speak with her. They’d been sent over by their respective Senators to inquire as to the possibility of her sharing the files she’d saved from when she sponsored the legislation that eventually did away with the MRA.

Verena was taken aback by how many people were there. She was a junior Senator that was in her first term, she’d thought that the more experienced Senators would talk amongst themselves and then let her in on whatever they planned to do, but since she was the one that had presented the bill that overturned the MRA, they thought her their most valuable asset. They thought that they could perhaps learn something from her campaign against the MRA. And Verena, wanting to be rid of them as quickly as she could, promised that she would have the interns make copies of her MRA files and personally deliver them over to their offices first thing in the morning.

“Wilson, I'm going to need you to drive over to my house and pick up the box that has all the MRA stuff in it.” She grabbed her house keys out of her briefcase. “Do you remember where the file room is?”

“Of course, I'm the one that organized it.” Wilson smiled nervously.

“That’s right. Don’t know why I didn’t remember that, but anyways, pick the files up and then drop them off with the interns. They’ll know what to do.”

“I’ll just go wait for the bus, and then I’ll –”

“The bus?” she repeated. “Didn’t you bring your car? You always bring your car.”

“Not really, I just bring it whenever it’s my turn with the carpool.” He watched as she questioningly arched her brow at him. “I carpool with Katie and Rodrigo. We live on the same block and stay late so we figured it’d be a good idea. Save gas and all that stuff.”

“Well that is a good idea, but I wish you would’ve brought your car today.” She pursed her lips, thinking of what to do. “Alright, since you didn’t bring you car, I’ll just let you take mine. You’ve driven it before. I trust you. So just take it and grab the files we need.”

“I’ll put gas in it on the way back.”

“Don’t be absurd. I have a Prius. Gas isn’t an issue for me.” She unbuttoned her jacket. “And if you put any, I swear I’ll have you working with the interns for the rest of the week. Is that clear?”

He nodded.

“Good. Now the key for the car is on the keychain I just gave you, so you’re set to go. But before you do, I need you to tell Katie to hold all calls. The only people I want to talk to right now are Senators. Also, tell her that in fifteen minutes I want Thomas in my office.” Thomas was her chief of staff. He’d been with her since she first got elected to the House. “On second thought, better make it twenty.”

Wilson told her that he’d inform Katie of the instructions, and then left the office, mindful to close the door the entire way. He knew how much his employer valued being by herself. Being alone wasn’t a luxury she was often afforded, at least not while she was in Washington, because as soon as she stepped foot onto Capitol Hill, the world hurled itself upon her. There were meetings to be attended, constituents that wanted to have a quick word; lobbyists that were trying to shove an opinion down her throat, and votes that had to be cast. There was no peace in Capital Hill. Not even in the bathrooms, which was why every once in awhile, when she felt particularly stressed, Verena would ask for visitors to be turned away, for calls to not be put through, so she could have a moment to herself.

She never really did much during her mini breaks from the world. She’d just sort of lay down on the couch with her glass of whiskey resting on her stomach. Sometimes she listened to music. In fact, most of the time she listened to music, but there were occasions, like that day, when even music had no appeal. So Verena just lay there in silence, eyes closed, as she attempted to force the SRA out of her thoughts. She’d always known that it was going to pass the House and move onto the Senate, but now that it was in committee and that it would undoubtedly be put to the floor for a vote, she couldn’t help but be afraid that maybe a filibuster wouldn’t be enough, that somehow the Republicans would get enough votes to invoke cloture.

And even if they didn’t have the votes to invoke cloture, there was still the fact that she had never filibustered any legislation. Sure, she’d thought about it. There had been several dreams in which she’d fancied herself taking the Senate Floor and talking until her fellow Senators grew so frustrated by her that they threw out the bill, but the problem was that actually taking the Senate floor wasn’t going to be a daydream that would end exactly as she wanted it to. There were actually going to be ninety-nine other Senators watching her, there would be news cameras, reporters, and countless other spectators. What if she froze? What if her nerves got the best of her? She was terrified of what could happen. Not that she’d ever admit that to the public.

Whenever she was in the public eye, all they ever saw was the confident young Senator that the Kennedy family had taken under their wing. She was their protégé. They were the main reason why she was in the position she was. If it hadn’t been for them, she would’ve been working as a staff member for a Representative or Senator, waiting to one day start her own career, but she’d made friends with Patrick during law school, a close friendship that led to his introducing her to his family, and which eventually led to them taking her onto the political world as their companion. They had helped her secure all the best connections, they took her on the path that each one of them had already traveled, and when the public saw her, they saw the legacy of public service that the Kennedys and their allies had forged.

They didn’t see the thirty five year old that battled a persistent feeling of dissatisfaction. Her political career may have been better than what her wildest dreams imagined they would be at the age of thirty-five, but her personal life was a mess, she didn’t have a boyfriend, she didn’t have children like she’d always wanted, she didn’t – well, on second thought, she did technically have a boyfriend. The public believed her to be in a serious three year relationship with Congressman Patrick Kennedy. They thought they were in love, that the future held a marriage between them, but they weren’t actually together. Patrick was gay and in love with Congressman Matthew Previn. He had been ever since their days in middle school, but fearing what being openly gay would do to his future presidential aspirations, Patrick decided to stay in the closet. Matthew wasn’t pleased by that decision, but he knew it had to be done. Massachusetts may have been liberal enough to elect Representatives from the LGBT community, and they could in the future elect an LGBT Senator, but the country wouldn’t elect a gay president. There were too many red states that viewed homosexuality with contempt, and since Patrick planned on one day being president, he had to play by the rules.

So he had his girlfriend and on the side, he conducted his romance with Matthew in secret. It was a shitty arrangement. Patrick wanted to have a family with Matthew, to have kids via surrogate and grow old with him, but his duties to his family and to his political aspirations kept him from doing so. Sacrifices had to be made. That was what he always told himself, that was what Matthew repeated whenever he found himself losing it, and that was what Verena whispered to herself each night before she fell asleep.

One day, she knew that she’d be able to start living a life outside of politics, to form a family, and it didn’t even have to be a traditional family. If Mr. Right never came along, then so be it, she’d forego a husband, but she’d still adopt, because motherhood was something she’d always wanted to experience. One day, she’d be fulfilled, and the feeling of dissatisfaction would go away, but at the present, she would just cope with it as best she could, because being a United States Senator was worth the sacrifices, even if she occasionally believed otherwise.