“You just like Kennedy ‘cause he’s handsome,” Alice said, the last syllable dissolving into a laugh. She’d curled up on her side of the couch in a wool blanket, legs tucked up against her chest, the minute Douglas Edwards came on. It was one of the things Sean liked about her, that she liked hearing about politics even when his folks weren’t around to watch her hang on his every word.
Sean shrugged. “Everyone likes him because he’s handsome. You saw him in the debate—even you have to admit that he looked great out there.”
She considered, her gaze moving up to some point beyond Sean’s head for a moment. “Sure, he’s handsome enough. And if he wins, then you can have him and I can have Jackie.”
“Pat Nixon’ll be disappointed to hear that.” He grinned, kicking his feet onto the coffee table in precisely the way Alice pretended to hate.
Tonight, she didn’t care in the slightest, just leaned against the back of the couch and said, “Well, she and Dick can go cry to Checkers over it.”