Vanessa played the role of dutiful wife at Arch’s campaign events but spent most of her time preparing for the arrival of the baby: remaking her old bedroom into a lavish nursery, attending birthing classes (Arch never missed one; Nick Averett always sent a photographer), learning to prepare homemade organic baby food, reading book after book about natural childbirth and baby’s first year. Arch thought it was silly, but he tolerated Vanessa’s obsessions. Averett tried to exploit “the whole organic thing” to soften Arch’s image for educated, health-minded women. Vanessa knew she could do whatever she liked so long as she showed up and smiled.

I never got the sense that Arch thought of the baby as a distraction. He read the birthing books and rearranged his schedule to join her at the doctor’s office for checkups. Every time I saw him greet Vanessa, he placed his ear against her belly so he could listen to the sound of life floating around in its little amniotic sea.

“Do you know the sex yet?” I asked.

“We could find out,” Arch said, “but Vanessa wants it to be a surprise. I told her we should just find out so people will know what sort of things to buy. She says it doesn’t matter. She’s painting everything gender-neutral. But I’d love to have a girl. Then again, if it’s a girl, she can’t go to Yeatman.”

You would be surprised how many Yeatman alums make this observation about their future children.

As predicted, the media identified Clem Cardwell as the front-runner. He had the deepest pockets, the widest connections. But everyone who voted along party lines or hated tax-rate hikes to pay for public services or considered the annual increase in population a sign of imminent apocalypse had no dog in the hunt but Arch. Three times during the first debate, he made sure to mention that we didn’t want to end up like Atlanta, which was dog-whistle code for “too much traffic and too many queers, Yankees, and brown people.”

“What happens when there’s a shift in the economy?” Arch would say. “The market always corrects. It’s a matter of when, not if. Banks don’t feel pity or make allowances. When the bill comes due, they expect you to pay it or else. I lost my father when I was young, but I remember a few things he taught me. One of them was this: Live within your means. That’s a value we should still hold dear in this town, however much we grow. It’s a big part of the spirit of Nashville.”