Electable

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean frowned at that and started the vacuum cleaner. The appliance roared to life, and he began with the carpet around the bar, since they spent enough time in that area that they had dropped crumbs here and there. Then he moved on to the sofa that his partner had occupied with Mopsy mere moments ago. She was a quiet, unassuming pet, but she remained covered in fur with a tendency to shed. Particularly in the middle of January when she still had her winter coat.

The telepath found it uncharacteristic that his partner would refuse to watch the caucus results. While he knew that Josh felt so passionately about politics that he could fall into a funk (although, so often, it ignited a fire in the attorney’s belly so that he argued and yelled instead), the attorney remained a political junkie. Anyone who had ever shared more than a five-minute conversation with him knew that.

If he wins, do you want to have slept through it?

Sean (mostly) followed the same media that his partner did. Josh read blogs more frequently than the telepath did, and he read (and replied to) the comments section, something that the psychiatrist would never do, but, overall, they had the same preferences for media: MSNBC, Mother Jones, The New York Times, and the typical spectrum of other outlets.

Sean knew that the media had opted for the unelectable narrative for Sanders, and they had done so since before the Senator had thrown his hat into the ring. At first, the DNC and liberal intellectual narrative had been that, rather than critique Clinton or threaten to run as a third-party candidate on a Socialist ticket, he should challenge her in the primaries. So Sanders had done so. At first, those same outlets had considered Sanders a sideshow, no more of a challenge than Jim Webb. But Sanders had prevailed, he gained momentum and popularity, and he had managed to out-fundraise Clinton one quarter despite not having a SuperPAC and thus having to rely on micro-donations. Still, Clinton received broad Establishment support that permeated everything.

Such as Paul Krugman’s blog post.

It was too bad, since Sean respected the man as an economist. But he had engaged in the same hand-wringing over Obama back in 2007 and 2008.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh moved a pile of National Geographic magazines from the coffee table, setting them on the sofa for the time being.

I suppose that I wouldn't, He conceded as he spritzed down the glass table top. He rarely missed watching caucus results. Even illness couldn't prevent him from keeping glued to his television, or, now, phone, as he waited for results. However, his interest in Sanders campaign went beyond his typical interest in politics and preferences for a more liberal candidate -- his support for Bill Clinton's first presidential run not withstanding.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean continued to vacuum around the carpet, drawing the hose attachment closer to the sofa. Eventually, he would have to push the furniture back, so that he could vacuum up whatever crumbs had fallen underneath. While they didn’t eat in the living room for the most part – reserving that for the kitchen, the dining room, or, less frequently, the den – crumbs still managed to happen. Also fur, since Josh cuddled with Mopsy in every room but their shared bedroom (as a courtesy to the telepath), and she tended to shed.

So we’ll watch together. If you get too frustrated, we can turn it off and do something else. Considering when the results came in, “do something else” might consist of “go to sleep.” Still, he thought that his partner would regret not watching at all if he didn’t give it a try.

Of course, the telepath understood the younger man’s frustration. He knew that, for Josh, Bernie Sanders inspired the same amount of hope and enthusiasm in Josh that Barak Obama had done for Ryan and his cohort. Seeing that minimized for an establishment narrative was frustrating.

It was, among other reasons, why Sean had been unwilling to vote for Bill Clinton in 1992. Although that had rarely come up as a topic of conversation.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh ran his cloth along the edge of the glass, kneeling down with more difficulty than he would have liked. Although he knew that he didn't have either the back or knee problems that Sean and Cobalt had he was no longer a young man.

At least he could still kneel and, more importantly, get back up again once he was on the ground. He hoped he had at least a few years more before that became too much of a problem for him to continue.

If it turns out better than expected we'll have to celebrate, he warned. Not that Sean was likely to reject any reason to celebrate. Rejections tended to come because of outside issues (primarily pertaining to the school) and Josh couldn't imagine any situation rearing up at night when they were safely home together.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

They were no longer young men, and they hadn’t been for a couple of decades now. However, they could be middle aged men together, and they could become old men together. They would, in fact, unless some tragedy befell them, a thought to which Sean had no desire to devote the rest of the day.

It was the weekend.

Even if they were spending this Saturday on chores and they had a storm about them.

He pushed the vacuum all around the sofa, until, finally, he turned it off. Not for long, only so he could push the furniture out of the way without having to worry about errant suction.

As soon as he had pushed the sofa and chairs far enough out of the way, he turned the vacuum cleaner back on.

We should, he agreed. He had no doubt that he and his partner could find a suitable way to pass the time. In fact, he was sure (beyond his telepathy) that Josh already had something in mind, now that he had cheered the attorney sufficiently to think about a possible win for their preferred candidate.

We can break out a bottle of wine and have a special dessert.

[Joshua Bernstein]

The idea of wine, dessert, Sean's company, and a decisive Sanders victory was enough to cheer Josh up further. That sounded like the perfect night to him.

I'll take you up on that offer.

He smiled at himself at that thought. All these decades later and he still wanted to celebrate with his partner, was still attracted to him so very much. He knew that his parents had been much the same way until his father's senility had set in.

He hoped that he could avoid the same fate; perhaps there would be better treatments in another decade.

Eventually the living room was clean, and he marveled at how quickly they had been able to work. Whenever he thought about housework he felt overwhelmed, and thus he expected it to take longer than it actually did.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Good.

Of course, Josh had the right to turn him down, since romantic relationship or not, his partner wasn’t obligated to spend time with him, but Sean did think that the other man would regret missing the caucus results. They hadn’t missed any caucus results since 1980, when they were first dating and living in their apartment in the Village. After breaking up, they still would spend the night at one or the other’s home to watch the results. Even after the telepath had moved to Vermont, they still called each other to talk and watch at the same time.

It was tradition.

It was tradition, Josh was more invested in Sanders’s candidacy than he had been invested in a candidate in years, and he was a political news enthusiast.

The thought of spending the time together made Sean happy. He knew that Josh’s parents had been much the same as they were. The psychiatrist’s parents had been much the same way, even if they had been a bit more reserved in front of their children. One thing that all of the Nevilles had in common, despite their differences of politics, religion, life priorities, cultural significance...all of them found love matches.

In that way, he was proud to emulate his parents.

In addition to the love match, he and Josh made a good team when working together, and so, soon enough, they managed to clean the entire living room. It didn’t sparkle the way a professional cleaning service might, but that didn’t matter. It was clean, and none of Mopsy’s fur remained behind on the floor or the furniture.

Shutting off the vacuum cleaner, he hit the button to retract the cord. “We should do the bathtub,” he remarked, bringing the conversation back to his partner’s offer from earlier. “When we’re finished with that, it should be lunch time.”

[Joshua Bernstein]

"All right. I'll fill a bucket with ammonia," Josh offered. After all, he already had to return to the dust spray to the cleaning supplies and thus he would already be over there. "Meet you upstairs?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“Thank you,” Sean told him sincerely. If his partner took care of those supplies, then it would give the telepath time to grab some gloves and masks from the kitchen and get upstairs.

At least they only had to clean one bathtub, since the ones in the other bathrooms didn’t see use and thus required cleaning only when they were expecting guests, and then immediately after their guests had departed. The hot tub had a self-cleaning cycle that they should engage while handwashing the bathtub in the master bathroom, but that was it.

This made their to-do list far less taxing than it otherwise would be. Laundry, changing the sheets on the bed, cleaning the rooms they used most, and cleaning the bathroom. Nothing too taxing, over all.

The telepath began to wrap the cord around the base of the vacuum cleaner. Over his shoulder, he told his partner, “Think about what you want for lunch.”

He had gone grocery shopping yesterday in his way home from Hammel, to prepare for the storm; this meant they had a full refrigerator and a full pantry. He could make Josh whatever the other man wanted for both lunch and supper, as long as he was given enough lead time.

Then, for good measure, he added, “But no more political blogs for the rest of the day.”

That was in his partner’s best interest.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh grumbled good-naturedly under his breath at Sean's admonition before heading back towards the supply closet. Exchanging dusting supplies for bucket and ammonia was the work of a moment, but filling the bucket up such that they could clean the tub took a bit longer. While warm water poured from the faucet he nosed about the linen closet, grabbed the first two washcloths he saw, and slung those over his shoulder. Then he checked on his bucket again.

He filled it up a little too much, however, as he realized when he tried to lift it out of the sink and sloshed water across his hands. He grimaced at himself, then dumped about a quarter of the water down the drain until he was confident he could carry it upstairs without accidentally spilling a watery trail behind him.

He made his way up the stairs and into the master bedroom.

"Bucket ahoy!" He called out, setting his offering on the tile floor outside the tub.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

While Josh took care of the supplies and the bucket, Sean dragged the vacuum cleaner back to its place in the front hall closet. He felt productive, as he always did when he managed to get the cleaning done on weekends; he felt all the more productive when he and Josh worked in tandem, since they made a good team.

Working together cut down on the cleaning time by a couple of hours, which, in turn, meant that they could spend that saved time doing something far more interesting together.

Then he washed his hands and grabbed two pairs of gloves to protect them. He donned his pair as he walked up the stairs, holding onto the other pair for when his partner joined him in the bathroom.

When Josh came up, he slid out of the way, making room both for Josh and for the bucket between them. He handed over the gloves so Josh could protect his hands – they didn’t need any chemical burns or infections from cleaning the bathtub – and, in turn, he plucked the washcloths from the other man’s shoulder.

“Did you decide what you wanted for lunch?” He asked, while dipping one cloth into the ammonia bucket.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh tossed a washcloth to Sean before tugging the gloves on over his hands.

"Maybe something simple today. Turkey and avocado sandwiches and mushroom soup. Or tomato soup. Which do you think would taste better?"

Josh dipped his washcloth into the bucket. "I'm going to start with the sink," He offered, because that would be relatively quick and easy.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean caught the washcloth with one gloved hand and then dipped it into the bucket of ammonia.

“I think the mushroom would go better. Tomato soup is a bit heavier and doesn’t blend as well with avocado.” That was his opinion While tomato slices went well with turkey and avocado sandwiches, tomato soup was thicker with a more concentrated flavor. It leant itself well to cheese and heartier sandwiches, rather than the crisp, light taste of sliced turkey.

These were the times which had prompted Josh to suggest he write a cookbook, surely, since he reflected this much on basic meal choices. Not that he had anything to offer, aside from the handful of recipes he’d learned from his family, or from Josh’s mother, or from an ex-lover or friend, everything else came from commercial cookbooks, already available to the public.

“The soup should warm us up,” he added, as though the cleaning had failed to do that.

He then nodded to acknowledge his partner’s remark. “I’ll get started on the tub, then.” That was a two-man job, but he could get started in Josh’s absence and continue once the other man joined him.”

They would also have to do the toilet, but that was easier and required less scrubbing.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh considered that with a grunt as he began to wipe down the faucet. "Mushroom soup, then. And maybe some crackers."

One saltines, which was one of his biggest regrets when it came to his diet. He loved saltines, but part of watching his blood pressure was cutting back on the salt. But even without his beloved saltines he felt that soup required crackers to dip in it.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean, too, began with the faucet, running his washcloth over the tap and the dials so that they were disinfected. He would see how shiny he could make them, although they were older now, three decades at least, so the ability to fully see himself in their reflection had passed a while ago.

His goal was to do some repairs and upgrading to the house within the next couple of years, but he hadn’t spoken to his partner about it yet. Nothing earth-shattering, of course, but since it was at least a year off, he hadn’t wanted to broach the topic until he had some more concrete ideas.

“Turkey and avocado sandwiches, mushroom soup, and crackers,” Sean summarized. “I think we can manage that.”

They had all of the ingredients, and the most time consuming parts would be heating the soup and slicing and pitting the avocado. All easily done.

He heard his partner’s thought regarding his low-sodium, and he empathized. He knew that Josh missed his old diet, and, Saltines, in the scheme of things, were less of a problem than frequent cheese sandwiches and cigarettes. “We have those oyster crackers we could use,” he suggested. They had less salt than Saltines, but they had more than water crackers, which also lent themselves to more flavor.