Primary Colors by Joe Klein Page A

illuminate the ordering window. The night was a touch chilly; Willie hadn't put up his winter plastic yet. But he pulled out a space heater and hooked it up next to Susan, creating a viral undulation, electric heat and November breezes. When the food canoe, the governor inhaled his, then looked up shocked--and not undelighted--that the rest of us were still working, which left the possibility that more was to be had. He kept his eye on Susan's plate, then--at the instan t s he crumpled her last paper napkin--swiped the leftovers. He snagged my Texas toast when he thought no one was looking (he was wrong; Jimmy was). I was, for once, disappointed in him. This wasn't good. Afterward, Jimmy lit a cigarette, a Parliament actually--a brand I thought no longer existed; Susan grimaced (Jimmy caught that, too). The governor had kept up a steady patter throughout, pork and football and Mammoth Falls--nothing remotely close to the business at hand. It was Ozio's hand to play.
    "So," Jimmy said finally, "Orlando's been watching you move around the country. He's noticed that every time you go to New Hampshire, you make connections through Chicago. You stop there, see the mayor, get to know the city. That's very good, but not so good for us. It's too bad our primary is a month after Illinois. You'll never get to know us that way . . . until it's too late, maybe. You should get to know us a little better. The governor certainly thinks so. He was hoping the next time you pass our way, you'd stop in, spend a little time, get to know us better."
    We'd been stopping in New York as often as Chicago, batting our heads against Wall Street, but Stanton didn't say so. He was obeisant; it was nauseating. "Absolutely," he said. "We will absolutely do that. I mean, I've been really wanting to . . . consult with your--with Governor Ozio."
    "He knows a lot," Jimmy said.
    Richard rolled his eyes. (Jimmy missed that.)
    "Henry, you got the book?" the governor asked. The book. The book was in the car. I got the book.
    "Next Tuesday we'll be up there," I said.
    "Orlando is usually in the city only on Mondays and Thursdays," Jimmy said.
    "Albany's on the way to New Hampshire," the governor said. Nice. "Let me check with him," Jimmy said. "Anyone got a phone?" Richard and I both did; so did Susan. We produced them simultaneously, a bit too enthusiastically. Ozio took Susan's and dialed a number; he reached his father immediately. "Yeah ... Right now . . . No, they took me to a restaurant," Jimmy said. "Listen, Governor Stanton's going to be in the city on Tuesday, but he says he's willing to stop in Albany on the way to New Hampshire. . . . Uh-
    huh, uh-huh." Jimmy looked over to me: "He wants to know what you're doing in the city on Tuesday."
    I glanced at Stanton: Tell them how much? He glanced at me: Some, but not all that much. I gave Jimmy the public stuff. Lunch with the Council ofJewish Organizations. An afternoon speech at the executive council of the Bar Association. A drop-by later at a teachers' union cocktail party. Jimmy relayed these to his father. "He wants to know where the cocktail party is," Jimmy said.
    "Sheraton City Center."
    "Uh-huh, uh-huh. . . All right, I'll ask him," Jimmy said. "He says he'll be speaking at the teachers' dinner so he'll be at the Sheraton too. We can meet there. Now he wants to speak to you," he said passing the phone to Stanton.
    "Yeah. . . . I do. . . . Naw, I guess I'm with the Bulls these days--they got one or two of our boys up playing there. . . . Well, that's hard to say. . . I like 'em both. . . . You've got a fine son here. . . . I will. . . . Look forward to visitin' with you next week. . . . Right. Thanks. 'Bye."
    Stanton handed me the phone. "The governor wanted to know," he said, "which I like better: the three-point shot line in college basketball, or the pros."
    He was, clearly, thermonuclear pissed. My only hope was that it would wear off on the drive home. I had flicked up. I knew it. I knew, too, a