Late the next day, on Wednesday afternoon, the headline story from Juan’s television blared. “In an announcement sending shockwaves around the world,” the Univision commentator spoke breathlessly. “After Congress finishes the official counting of the electoral votes, Vice President Kamala Harris is expected to declare Donald Trump the victor of the 2024 Presidential race. Donald Trump is once again the President of the United States!”
“MAGA!” came a hoot from Juan's son Carlos. He was home on leave from the Marine Corps and planned to stay through Christmas.
“What the?!” Juan’s daughter Sofia choked on her words and left the question unfinished. She’d come home early that day from school. They were all sitting together on the couch.
“She has a statement,” the news anchor announced. The scene cut to the floor of Congress, where a packed crowd of Representatives rose to their feet.
Vice President Harris assumed a somber posture as she read, “The whole number of Electors for President of the United States is 538. Within that whole number, a majority is 270.”
“How could this have happened?” Juan asked. A pall that hung over the Congressional assembly, it hung over his living room, too. His son, however, seemed overjoyed.
“The Democrats overplayed their hand, Dad,” Carlos said. “They arrested him and put him in jail! The American people are disgusted by all these legal tricks. They weaponized the legal system against him, and now the Democrats are paying the price.”
Juan pretended to ignore Carlos’ comments. His chest tightened as he silently watched the television, noting the vice president’s facial expressions. “This isn’t right,” his emotions battled between shock and outrage. “There’s no way this could be happening!”
“The announcement of the state of the vote,” Harris continued. “By the President of the Senate, shall be deemed a sufficient declaration of the persons elected President and Vice President of the United States. Each for the term beginning on the 20th day of January, 2025…”
They watched for a while longer until he was sure there was no mistake. With a curse, he turned off the TV as Maria brought out bowls of pozole.
“I’m not hungry,” Juan snapped.
Maria was stricken. “But it’s your favorite.”
“This is my favorite now,” Juan snarled, grabbing a bottle of tequila and slamming the door behind him on his way to the back porch.
Late in the evening, Sofia went outside to check on her dad. “Are you OK?”
“No, I’m not OK,” Juan said blurrily. He was feeling no pain. He directed Sofia’s attention back to his cell phone, “Hey! It’s Biden. He’s gonna make a speech.”
President Biden stood at a podium with a row of American flags behind him. His wife, Dr. Jill Biden, was by his side. “Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Americans,” he began after some minor delays. Tonight, as the final votes are tallied and the course of our nation’s destiny is revealed, I stand before you with a mix of emotions—gratitude, resilience, and an unwavering belief in the strength of our democracy.”
Juan made a rude noise, but Sofia hushed him.
“I want to begin by expressing my deepest appreciation to every American who participated in this democratic process,” Biden continued. “Our nation’s greatness lies in the active engagement of its citizens, and I am profoundly grateful for your commitment to shaping our collective future.”
He spoke at length about resilience and the spirit of the United States, “This is not the outcome we wanted, but I urge you never to lose faith in the strength of our democracy. Almost 250 years ago, our Founding Fathers crafted a vision of a nation governed by the people, for the people. Tonight, we honor that legacy and the millions who exercised their right to vote.”
A few times during the speech, Biden stuttered and seemed to have difficulty reading the words on the teleprompter in front of him. “That’s why he lost, right there!” Sofia said sadly. “He’s just too old.”
“That’s not why he lost,” Juan chastised his daughter. “There’s no way he lost. It’s impossible! Votes don’t make Presidents, I do!”
Sofia didn’t know what her father was talking about.
As if on cue, Biden began talking about unity. “As we move forward, let us transcend the divisions that sometimes define our politics. We are all Americans, bound by a common destiny and a shared dream for a better tomorrow.”
“I’m so sorry, Dad,” she gently took his glass. Juan had enough for one night.
“As we face the future, let us be guided by the enduring principles that define our nation,” Biden was wrapping up his speech. “May we find common ground, build bridges instead of walls, and continue the great American experiment with hope, determination, and the belief that our best days are yet to come.”
Juan looked up at Sofia, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, mija. Nothing I did made any difference. No difference at all.”
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