Chapters (22)
The thrice-moved meeting was held on the morning of the twelfth—eight days from the end of his term. This was one day before the vote on his second impeachment in the House. That afternoon would be Trump’s penultimate trip as president before flying into the sunset—a trip to the Texas border, a photo op memorializing one of the most contentious and yet defining issues of his presidency.
But first, and finally, the meeting about Donald Trump’s future.
It was held in the small dining room down from the Oval, something of an overflow room for unframed photos of the president and White House gatherings ready to be reviewed or signed and sent out; and a library of hagiographic books written about the president—his former press secretary Sean Spicer’s admiring memoir; Dave Bossie and Corey Lewandowski’s two books about the various conspiracies to destroy the president; Fox and right-wing radio personality Mark Levin’s Trump manifesto book; and a book by John Yoo, Republican lawyer and author of the Bush administration’s pro-torture memo. They had all called on the president and left a book (sometimes many) behind.
The president sat at the end of the table, facing the television screen, watching OAN.
It was Bill Stepien, Jason Miller, and Brian Jack (up for a job with the House Republican leader Kevin McCarthy—but worried that it might be dashed because of January 6) at the table, the remaining brain trust, such as it was—with Jared popping into the room but otherwise careful not to be running the meeting or owning the problem. In fact, Stepien and Jack had not been around in weeks, and Jack was a late addition, recruited mainly to fill out the table.
Miller was there, held in place by both stalwart loyalty and his domestic situation—unlikely to be hired elsewhere with the continuing barrage of his former lover’s militant and indefatigable tweets.
It was a sheepish meeting, with Stepien and Jack not quite sure the president had noticed their absence and not quite sure they should acknowledge the basic changes, to say the least, in the political dynamic since they last spoke.
“It might be an awkward time to chat about this now,” Stepien began, with the president clearly not acknowledging the awkwardness.
Indeed, the president kept looking away to watch specific clips on OAN.
“You’re sticking around, right?” He turned toward the three men.
This, too, gave a kind of odd sense that all things were continuing as before. But, yes, everyone agreed, they were sticking around, while at the same time having no clear purpose to stick around for, even if they had actually wanted to stick around.