Democrat Daisy

They loaded the car and waited for her mom to arrive home.

"Sex?"

She giggled and said no and told him to make coffee while she put on some music.

Meredith arrived and smiled.

"Gosh when I saw the car outside the thought at first we were being robbed by louts from the poor quarter of Strandon but then Clarita I remembered you said Buddy drove a classic Chevrolet Caprice. I'm surprised a green person like you would ride in a gas-guzzler like that."

"That car was my father's Meredith. He gave it to me and it was the first car I ever owned. I have three other vehicles."

"B-but how could you own four cars. You have written only one decent book..."

"And he owns a house mom."

"Yeah well I become nostalgic when I drive off in my old Chevy that will be restored one day. I dress down and act down to find real Middle America that I find gives me inspiration. It might interest you guys to know that sales of my one good book took off after one of the first reviewers wrote, 'It provides a quintessential account of the lives and attitudes of a community of staunch Republicans of these times. Ultimately this powerfully-written novel will withstand critical assessment as being historically accurate as a snapshot of part of Middle America at the time of our most recent Presidential Elections'. Other reviewers took up on that theme to also show how scholarly they were."

"As a result that book is now required reading in some colleges, libraries and book clubs seized upon it and book stores put my book on prominent display. At the last report I received, sales of that book recently topped nine million and it is being printed in seven different languages. Further, sales show now sign of easing back."

"Omigod, Meredith breathed. "Then why didn't you immediately write the sister book with a Democrat bias?"

"My publisher asked me to do that Meredith and interviewers asked the same question but I said no, give me a break, I didn't wish to rush into it. Then I arrived here, in a small town where anyone but a Democrat would feel uncomfortable residing and within hours I began meeting notable characters such as a nude woman, a cop, his parents and your grandmother and I realized my next novel had found me and here we are."

"Omigod, Meredith breathed. "How romantic."

"Mom some of my things are packed into Buddy's car. He's asked me to move in with him."

"That's fine."

"But I thought..."

"I have no idea what you were thinking darling but today I decided Buddy would provide you with good experience and you moving in with him was inevitable and I accepted that.

"Oh mommy," cried Clarita and rushed over to hug her mom. She held her mom tightly until she hear Meredith sniff and she then backed away quickly and was relieved to find her mom was weeping rather than smelling for the scent of sex.

Whew.

"Will you guys stay for dinner; I think we should go out? This is the night our Chinese restaurant does Mexican."

"Yes Meredith. That would be great," Buddy said, waiting for Clarita to nod before he said that.

CHAPTER 3

On the editorial fiction floor of a New York publishing house, internal messenger Bobo held up a couriered package and asked, "Where in America is a place called Here-Comes?"

No one in reception had any idea but out of a side office shot a middle-aged woman.

"Omigod, it's arrived," screamed Alice Michaels, executive editor. "Omigod Bobo, hand it to me. That small town is in a corner of a Midwest state in territory formerly known as the Badlands. These are the first fifteen chapters of the sister novel to 'Republican Ruby'."

Alice had decided to edit this manuscript herself. They'd been caught out on the unexpected popularity of 'Ruby' and this time the budget had been approved to launch 'Daisy' as having best-settler potential. The editorial committee had already agreed to stick with the author's working title of 'Democrat Daisy'.

In the proposal the characterization of Daisy had suggested she was great on looks and a little light on intelligence but had a warm, warm heat. Or as one of the first draft editors had suggested, Daisy was a prime example of the quintessential butterfly babes that hung around the Democrat power-makers that allowed humanity to shine through the ugly business of backroom politics. That editor was also an author and it was suspected she occasionally popped illegal pills.

But the sentiment expressed had been applauded and the working title became the published title and work began on the cover design. Buddy Holly, er Buddy Baldwin, had supplied details of his characterization of Daisy to allow that work to proceed.

After completing the editing, Alice called a quick editorial executive meeting and invited the company CEO and director of marketing to attend.

Addressing the meeting, Alice said: "Folk I can confirm after editing the first fifteen chapters of Democrat Daisy we have an exceptionally appealing novel on our hands. It has all the components of a top seller."

"But not a best seller?" queried the CEO.

"Edmund an editor can pick a top seller but it's the public that convert a top seller into a best seller. My instinct says this is likely."

"Then what do you propose?"

"I suggest we get Buddy Baldwin here..."

"God who approved that name?"

"He was christened with that name Edmund."

"Oh. Carry on."

"We get him here, find some attractive movie star to pose as his escort and..."

"Mrs Michaels?"

"Miranda you are under instructions not to speak at our executive meetings."

"Excuse me Mrs Michaels but Buddy Holly, I mean Buddy Baldwin, already has a girlfriend he's found in Here-Comes."

Edmund asked where the hell was a place called Here-Comes?

"Edmund please, that's a very convoluted story. Damn Buddy teaming up with some local slut. This will create a real wrangle because Buddy is no pushover."

Miranda chipped in. "I have a photo of his slut. When I called him for weekly progress he said he'd found this cutie and I asked him to send his photo. I can open it for you on my laptop within 10 seconds."

She did that and showed the image to Alice who yelped, "Omigod. Everyone, take a look at what Buddy Holly has found, I mean Buddy Baldwin."

It was agreed to get Bubby and his cutie to New York and to call a press conference to announce the sequence to 'Republican Ruby'.

Back in her office Alice kissed Miranda and said she'd saved the day. Miranda stroked Alice's cheek softly and asked should she lock both doors.

"Later darling, let's get this major promo under way first. We'll need to liaise with marketing."

* * *

On a sunny very late spring day at Here-Comes, Buddy opened a letter from his executive editor.

"Jesus, they must be raving mad."

"What?" asked Clarita who was ironing sheets. Her mom had always ironed their sheets.

"You wouldn't believe this but my publishing house wants me to go to New York accompanied by Miss Clarita Young to attend a proposed media conference to announce I'm well started on the sequel to 'Republican Ruby'."

"How do they know about me?"

"They have spies I suppose. I don't want to go but will go if you yearn to be under a blaze of lights and popping flashlights at a media conference."

"God no, I could think of nothing worse."

Buddy grimaced and said then that was settled. He'd reply they could stick their media conference up their butts.

"Buddy give it to me. I'll reply in a more eloquent manner."

* * *

Executive editor Alice Michaels wailed when she read the rejection letter.

"God no way can they do this to me. I'll sue them."

Miranda, her PA, said there were two things that would prevent that occurring.

"I've checked Buddy's contract. Our contracts cover the obligatory commitment to attend at least ten media events or requested exclusive media interviews within two months of the initial publication of the contracted author's new book."

"I heard what you say Miranda but where's the problem?"

No contractual obligations relating to book promotion is stated in Buddy's contract, or any other of our contracts actually, require the author to participate in pre-publication promotions of any kind.

"Damn, who the fuck drafted that contract. I bet it was a wimpy male attorney."

"It was Patricia Wentworth who no longer works for us. I noted you had signed off the draft agreement?"

"Miranda!"

Miranda quavered "Yes?"

"Oh it doesn't matter Mindy. Come up with something to earn your keep."

Two early evenings later, Miranda wearing a very low-cut dress to exhibit her two global beauties, asked around the bar and finally faced the leading entertainment writer of the newspaper she'd selected.

"Miss James?"

"Yes? You have a sweet bosom."

"Thanks. I'm representing the executive editor of Jam Spoon Publishers International. You have been selected to unleash to America a startling publishing fact."

"Oh yes, and what is that darling, a tale about cruising down the Nile on a Sunday afternoon?"

Miranda said stoutly, "It's nothing like that" and told her about the upcoming publication.

"Shhh. Not another word in here Miranda. Spies are everywhere."

They went outside and sat in the chill, huddled close together and whispering.

Glenda James faced her crusty editor.

"Are you on something? You are seeking approval to go to some place out West called Here-Comes? I want you drug tested."

"No please Bruce just listen. Author of 'Republican Ruby' Buddy Baldwin is holed up there in pastoral splendor writing the sequel based on a small town called Here-Comes that actually exists and it is filled with Democrats. Sales of Ruby are approaching 11 million worldwide."

"Jesus. Um this Buddy Holly or whatshisname, how far on with the book is he?"

"Chapters 16 to 30 were received by his publisher a couple of days ago and the final eleven chapters are expected by the end of the month."

"Okay, this expedition is approved. Make sure you go with a good photographer. I want a big announcement to give to general news and we'll run as a feature whatever you can get that's any good, up to three pages. Now listen Glenda, you make damn sure you have clear instructions how to get to this place called Here-Comes.'

He grinned, "Christ it makes you think of settlers yelling, "Here come the Injuns."

"The place wasn't settled until after 1900 Bruce. Are you on something?"

He smacked her butt. Get out of here you cheeky bitch."

* * *

Buddy was pleased how well he was churning through the chapters.

Clarita was a great boon to him. She was now doing a lot of the research he required and cross-checking detail. She was blooming now that she was being fucked regularly.

He stretched and looked around and cocked an ear but heard nothing.

Ah she'd gone off for a nap.

The bedroom was empty.

He went out on to the terrace and looked down to the flatter section of the pasture toward the lake and grinned. There she was, nude apart from a sunhat and reading.

Buddy stripped and grabbed and book and went down to join her.

"Hi."

"Hi oh this is so idyllic, almost magical."

"Yeah and I had been planning to do this with you a lot on summer afternoons when the real heat has gone. What to fuck?"

"Oh yes please," Clarita said, putting down Richard B. Levy's 'Being Naughty with Mom'.

Clarita had her tongue down Buddy's throat and was jerking his dick while he was busily squelching her pussy with three very active fingers when a woman called, "Yoo-hoo Mr Holly?"

"Damn there's someone up at the house."

Clarita looked up at the house and said, "They must be at the wrong house. It's a woman and a photographer looking for a Mr Holly. Oh god it's the media and they are looking for Buddy Baldwin. Oh god they have seen us doing it."

"Calm down, that's no big deal. They'll do it too. Your clothes are here, mine are up at the cottage."

"Well I'll wear my underwear, you wear my skirt."

"Oh thanks," Buddy snorted.

He stood and waved and yelled they were coming.

"Oh we missed seeing that," the female yelled.

Huh?

* * *

The husband of executive editor Alice Michaels tossed the morning's newspaper at her.

"Come on, most of New York is awake and so should you be."

"I had too much to drink at the party and you were at me when we got home."

"Yeah well you don't only have it to use to pee. Oh your outfit is on the front page."

"What."

A story claiming a new book 'Democrat Daisy' by Buddy Holly will be published by the end of next month.

"Omigod, where is the paper? Give it to me."

"You are suddenly perky. It's beside you."

"Oh... oh... this is everything we wanted. It's not in all newspapers and on TV but several million people read this newspaper."

"Omigod, don't they look a sweet couple. Everyone will think Daisy is Clarita."

Her husband said she'd lost him.

"Omigod there's a two-page spread inside."

"Well don't get over-excited. I'm off to work."

* * *

Helicopters and light aircraft carrying media reporters, photographers and film crews began arrived at Strandon Airport, which was without runway lighting, from 7 am. The first two arrivals grabbed the only two rental vehicles that were available in Strandon and that crew headed off to Here-Comes 49 miles south.

For once Clarita checked the emails when hearing the alarm of an incoming email. It was from Alice Michaels.

"Oh shit."

"That's bad language," Buddy said, shaving in the bathroom.

"Here's an email from your executive editor thanking us for granting that interview and it's a wonderful interview and must surely raise big interest in the book. But she says we can expect a media invasion with people flying in as early as this morning. Oh god, there's a chopper approaching now. I'm calling mom to alert the town, using the Community Alert Warning. Restaurants will need to send food and catering staff out here and to set up marquees on the flat for media catering and..."

"Baby no. Just tell your mom to alert the town to expect the media. Fuck the media. Let them find their own food and drink; that's one thing they can do expertly."

"So we just ignore them?"

"No it's a fine day. Make your call and we'll set up our work table on the side terrace off the living room and they can gather on the lawn against that pastoral backdrop and watch us work or talk to us, whatever they want. Whatever they want they'll grasp; you know the media."

"Actually I don't."

"God that chopper has landed on the flat by the boatshed. How will those guys get over here? Oh and here's another chopper heading for the same spot."

"Being the media they'll commandeer canoes and paddle over like I had to do to seduce ... um, hurry and call your mom."

"Okay. What were you about to say?"

Buddy scowled and made a phone sign with his fingers between his right ear and his mouth.

There was chaos at the airport as more aircraft landed and the media searched fruitlessly for non-existent rental vehicles.

An enterprising trucking firm sent two trucks and demanded exorbitant truck rental fees. The media guys conferred and everyone dipped in to share costs.

A charter plane from one of the big TV networks arrived over the airport but was diverted to a larger airport 80 miles away.

Meredith had her civil emergency people sound the emergency siren and sent a crew on a vehicle with loudspeakers to alert the town to prepare for a media invasion that they should work to exploit.

Two catering firms stocked up their vans with tables and chairs and sent teams out to the cottage, rented by Buddy, to erect catering marquees.

"Here come the media," people began yelling and Meredith advised the mayor to return to his motel and get his people to bring in extra beds.

"But the media will be in and out of here?"

"Jay I believe they'll be arriving all day and will have to line up if they want exclusive interviews. The fact one of America's current most popular romance writers is holed up here at a place that no one in the media has ever heard of and where, for more than a century, damsels have sprawled nude in the grass reading and looking across a lake to a boatshed surrounded by woods. That romantic scene projected by the New York Times article has captivated the media and more positive publicity will steal the hearts of Americans when they read or hear about this tiny town."

"I reckon that heading on that woman's feature story in that New York newspapers I saw pictured on TV this morning claiming that she believes she's found the true Middle America will have fired up cynical journalists who believe there's no such thing as Middle America. Rather than believe that hogwash, they're coming to report on the existence of Old America that's still alive and pumping in our tranquil backwater."

"Meredith how do you know all this?"

"Because......I'm a romantic. Off you go Jay. I suggest you erect a sign across your entrance, Site of Here-Comes' Original Motel. That could draw the media to your establishment."

"How do you know that it is the site of our town's original motel?"

"Oh don't be so negative. Produce me someone who can prove that it wasn't. Most people around here are so laid-back they can't remember what happened last week let alone was there ever a hotel in town before you built yours twenty-five years ago when both hotels were burnt to the ground by temperance women."

Meredith's next initiative was to pick out three of the best looking female council employers and instruct them to grab a book and go down and lie on the grass beside the lake opposite the boatshed. They were free to pose for the media by should ask for a fee before granting permission to be photographed.

"But Mrs Young, what will my mother say? She already thinks I exhibit too much bare skin?"

"Gloria just tell Doris you were only doing what she and I did when we were young women."

"Mrs Young, I have a suggestive tattoo just above my pelvic bone."

"Naughty girl Robyn. Just pose with you hand over the tattoo. That would look like a natural pose."

The young women ran off giggling, highly excited.

Meredith wrote out a one-day special license and called Carl Monk, operator of the town's only bar.

"Good morning Carl, have you heard people calling here come the media?"

"Yeah a big invasion I hear."

"Indeed. I suggest you set up a temporary bar at Chadwick Cottage where most of the media will be gathering initially but they will all troop to town later when Mr Baldwin and my daughter become exhausted at being interview and call for a break. Send someone to our front office here to pick up the temporary license that will allow you to operate that bar."

"Thanks Meredith; good thinking. We must get together for another romp."

"More good thinking Jay. I wait to be pleasured."

Over at the cottage, Buddy dressed in his oldest pair of jeans and wore a faded and tattered checked shirt and an ancient straw hat he'd found out in the woodshed.

He greeted the arriving media and they gawked and TV and print media cameramen went to work.

Then Clarita joined him wearing high-heeled sandals, brief shorts simulating the American flag and a cycling top with no bra.

The camera guys and women pressed forward, practically behaving grossly as they usually do when in a pack, shouting such things as "Clarita push your tits forward" and "Darling touch your top lip with the tip of your tongue."

After three minutes, Buddy took charge.

"Okay journalists, fire away with your questions. I can see a couple of food stalls are being set up. That has nothing to do with us and so you'll have to pay for your own food and coffee. Oh here comes a vehicle from the local bar and it will probably be well stocked."

"Mr Holly..."

"Ma'am and every one listen up. My surname is Baldwin and NOT Holly. There can only be one Buddy Holly, RIP. Guys just call me Buddy and my girlfriend here is Clarita and no, my heroine Daisy in my new novel is not based on Clarita."