Representative Caroline Simone
Washington, District of Columbia
Saturday 23rd January, 2021Mamma mia, here we go again.3200 New Mexico Avenue felt a little different. Maybe it was the fact it wasn't cordoned by the Capitol Police in the same way that it had been since she was Speaker. Maybe it was the fact that with her importance somewhat diminished, her social circle had shrunk and so the spacious residence was often empty. It was a constant reminder that even with her relationship with her son much improved, she was - well - still a divorced woman with no young children to give her company and comfort. That sensation could gnaw at times, and as much as she'd swallowed it down during her Speakership, with more free time came more time alone with her thoughts.
Tonight, at least, was not such a lonely occasion. Wisconsin was on the horizon and as much as Carrie was no longer Speaker of the House, or even in Democratic leadership, she still maintained a sizeable leadership PAC and had good connections with donors. And so, if the Democrats were going to have an ample warchest for approaching the Senate special election, especially with a Richardson loyalist announcing his exploratory committee for the race, she needed to get working sooner rather than later. Resorting for a silver dress that she'd worn for fundraisers before but had generally flattered her, she looked back over the guest list on a tablet computer before it was time to get going. It wasn't a long journey from where she lived, down past the Naval Observatory, and then along the Potomac to the Watergate Complex, where she had booked out the Top of the Gate rooftop bar to hobnob with some of the Democratic Party's wealthiest and most generous donors, in the hope of both plumping up her own warchest for Wisconsin and the 2021 off-years, as well as that of the DNC and other leading Democratic PACs.
As she headed down the Rock Creek and Potomac Parkway, she pondered to herself about the fact that despite all the loss of morale she had suffered in the wake of November's defeat, she was still pushing onwards. Still taking action. Still
fighting. Why? Was it an attempt to mollify that sense of guilt that lingered around her? Was it an unwillingness to give up on the cause? Or was it something else? An ambition that maybe, perhaps, her role in this greater picture was not yet over. She had humored the idea a long time ago - sometime before she'd gone for House leadership at all. A weak field, disunited and in conflict. A party at each other's throats. She'd decided, eventually, at the time that the best way she could serve America's need for reliable Democratic governance was to do so as a vital part of the congressional system. And it had worked, for a while, keeping many in the party in line. But it had not been enough. If she perhaps had gone the other way, taken the other path...
Of course, back then, she didn't have anywhere near the national profile she had now. To presume that it would have ended in anything but defeat would have been arrogant. But now things were different. Yes, Speakers were always unpopular, ever since congressional approval tanked in the Noughties, but she was still a household name now. It wouldn't take months for her to build a national presence, not least because of her existing PAC infrastructure, and the many connections she had built. A great many in her party still respected her. There was a
window.
Entirely theoretical. Probably fantastical. And it would be a good two years before it was actionable. Wisconsin, the off-years, the mid-terms. These things all needed to come first. But by God, she would be
involved. She'd fight like a cornered tiger to deny Richardson his trifecta, and force him to come to the table on the big issues. It was the least that a so-called government of the people, by the people, for the people could do - reflect the stifled Democratic majority. As she approached the Watergate Hotel, she checked her face in a compact mirror - just a little more rouge in the cheeks. There, that's right.
It was a dirty business, soliciting donations. There had always been a lick of prostitution about it and that only seemed to exude more filthily from it when you had a woman of slightly diminished influence, authority and power subjected to the whims of the rich and powerful untouchables who made up the donor class of people. That's not to say they were all awful, she had existing working relationships with men like (not-Michael Bloomberg) and (not-Tom Steyer) who had given greatly to the Democratic cause despite the limitations of their own attempts to rise in the party, but it still felt gross. Money in politics was a necessary evil that she truly hated, not that her smiling exterior would allow that to show. That's not to say she was viciously anti-lobbyist - she did understand the legitimate purpose of lobbying, even if it had gone demonstrably too far in parts of the United States. Nonetheless, she would have to make promises that night. Promises to overlook tax loopholes, promises to direct pork and investment hither and thither... To use what influence she had to shuffle priorities around. Her ability to do that was limited, of course, she didn't have the same clout as she did when Speaker, and she didn't want to undermine the new Minority Leader... but she knew Emily. She knew she understood how the game was played. And if they wanted to stop Richardson packing the court with more women-hating bigots, or filling executive departments with underqualified nuts to satisfy the right of his party, then all would have to yield to Wisconsin.