Compromising Positions Page 7
I was matter of fact. “Well, she won a hard election against an incumbent Republican in a year that went GOP. The Democrats love her.”
“Fanny said she’s very smart.”
Mom stared at me waiting for me to let something slip with a twitch of my eye or a twist of my mouth. I never looked at her, though. Instead, I stared straight ahead and drove, calmly replied, “Yes, she is. She’s an interesting person.”
As soon as she said “Michael” and then sighed I knew I was in for a torrent of motherly concern. It began with, “I’m sure she is interesting, and she’s certainly pretty, but please consider—”
“Mom…,” I said, flashing her a look. “Don’t say a thing. There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t thought about.”
She was quiet for a moment, and so was I. There was so much silence I started to think I should say something, or she’d think I’d already fallen for Jessie. Hell. I didn’t even really know her. I just wanted to get to know her better. I muttered, “It’s not a big deal. Don’t worry about it.”
“But that’s it, Michael. Everything in your life is a big deal now. You’re a member of Congress.”
“I understand that.” My testiness showed through the three words.
More silence ensued as I drove faster than I should have through the D.C. streets. My parents kept a condo at the Watergate, so if I could just get my mom out of the car, the topic could die for the night. When we finally arrived at Virginia Avenue not far from her building, she broke the quiet solitude I’d retreated into. She was direct, but her voice was kind. “You’ve thought about everything, yet you still like her?”
What to say? She’d already figured it all out. I waited only a few seconds before I gave in, both to my mom and my situation. With a slow nod, I said, “Yet, I still like her.”
“And how do you think she feels?”
Staring blankly at the road, I told the truth. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
~~~
When Larry met me at the door, he grinned at the two six-packs of micro-brew I held in my hands. “Hey. Thanks for bringing the beer.”
“My pleasure.” I grinned. “Thanks for having me over.”
“Let me get that,” Larry said as he motioned toward the bottles.
“Nah. I got it.”
“Well, come on in. There are some great games on right now.”
As he led me upstairs, we hashed out the latest tournament results. The second floor of the house was different from the typical Washington turn of the century townhome. The traditional dining and living rooms were merged into one spacious living area. I was about to pay a compliment about the house’s design, but the spread of food on the coffee table distracted me. “This is great. Who made all this?”
“Trish.” Larry shrugged at the grilled lamb skewers, twice baked potatoes, roasted vegetable crudité, popcorn, spiced nuts, and a bowl of M&M’s. “She’s upstairs working. She’ll come down later.”
I couldn’t believe the dragon lady could be such a gracious hostess. “I’ll have to thank her.”
“Trish likes to cook for people. It’s her thing.”
“It looks like you’re a lucky man.” She had to be cooking for him and not me.
“Yes, I am.” He chuckled. “She takes care of me. Sorry if she’s ever been rude to you. It takes her a while to warm up to people.”
“I wouldn’t say she’s been rude.” I was surprised that he would talk so openly about her. “She’s just a good chief of staff, you know, protective of her boss.”
“Yeah, that’s a good way of putting it.” Larry snickered. He motioned toward the sofa. “Grab a beer for yourself, and take a load off. I’ll put the rest of the beer in the fridge.”
“Thanks. I will.”
For the next hour, we watched basketball, yelled at the television, talked sports, drank beer, and ate Trish’s food. We had a great time together, but I’d occasionally check the time on the cable box. I wondered if Jessie was still going to come over. I enjoyed hanging out with Larry, but I’d also hoped to see her.
When the University of Arizona v. Utah State game started and there was still no Jessie, I worried she might not come at all. I casually asked Larry, “Didn’t Jessie go to Arizona?”
“Yeah, she did.” He shifted his eyes, looking mischievous. “She should be here soon. Trish forced her to spend the afternoon doing fundraising calls at the Democratic Congressional Campaign Conference doing fundraising calls.”
Jessie’s voice rose from the kitchen doorway. “Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee—not ‘conference.’ This isn’t the NFL, and I’m not in the NFC East.”
“Sure, you are,” Larry said as he turned to Jessie and smiled. “It’s like you’re in the NFC, and Michael is in the AFC.”
“Very funny,” Jessie said as she walked into the room.
“Conference. Committee. Whatever,” Larry muttered and waved to show its triviality.
“Just call it the D Triple C. It’s easier.”
“Sounds like a better time, too,” said Larry. He raised his beer to her. “Good to see you.”
I started smiling the moment I had recognized Jessie’s voice, and I immediately stood up to welcome the lady in the room. “Hi, Jessie.”
“Hi.” She grinned. “How are you?”
“Great. We’re having a good time.”
“I see that.” She laughed as she pointed to the collection of empty bottles lined up on the table.
“We’re just getting started,” I said with an unimpressed look.
“Have a seat, and I’ll get you one,” Larry offered and jumped up from his recliner.
“Thanks.”
I watched Jessie as her eyes darted around the room evaluating the available furniture. Would she take one of the solo chairs, or would she join me on the sofa? I smiled when she picked the sofa, even though she claimed the far end away from me. She made herself comfortable, though, as she kicked off her running shoes and tucked her legs underneath her.
“There’s a commercial on right now,” I said, sitting down a little closer to her end than I was before. “Your Wildcats are doing well.”
“Really? That’s great.”
“Yeah, Arizona is up by fifteen. I think it’s going to be a blowout.”
“Here you go,” Larry said as he handed her a beer. “How’s your bracket doing?”
“Let me see,” Jessie said and took a swig of beer. She set the beer on the end table and reached into a pocket of her over-sized University of Arizona hoodie. “You have to tell me who’s won. I’ve had a crazy day and haven’t been able to keep up.”
As Larry began ticking off the day’s results, I got to stare at Jessie. She was dressed in an outfit that Stacy wouldn’t be caught dead in outside of the gym, and Jessie looked adorable and appropriate for the occasion. Her hair was up in a loose ponytail, and the dark tendrils were pretty against her light skin. She looked young and cozy in her bulky sweatshirt. It was just the look that made a guy want to snuggle with a girl. I had an urge to pull her to my side and tuck her under my arm. Knowing I couldn’t do that, I simply asked, “Can I see your bracket?”
“Sure,” she said, seeming a little uncertain as to why I would ask. She handed the folded paper to me.
After a quick scan of her picks, I shook my head. “Sad. You’ve fallen into the common trap of someone devoted to the overrated Pac-10.”
“Hey!” she said, reaching back for her bracket. “Who am I supposed to pick? Some tired Big 10 school that only makes the tournament because it was good in 1963?”
“Watch it. Some of my teams resemble that remark.” I chuckled. “I’m just saying you’ve got all these Pac-10 schools marching toward the final four, and statistically, that’s not going to happen.”
“What are you talking about?” She scooted closer on the sofa to look over my shoulder.
I was more than a little proud of myself for getting her over to my side so quickly. I smiled and turned,
so I was even closer to her. “Look here. You’ve got Arizona and UCLA in the final four, and three other Pac-10 teams with them in the elite eight. Do you honestly think that’s possible?”
“Oh, come on. I bet your bracket is irrational and loaded with Midwest teams.”
“No.” I twisted my mouth, knowing I was about to make a joke. “I swear mine is fair and balanced.”
“You did not seriously just say that?” She laughed but then her smile disappeared. “Wait. Do you actually watch Fox News?”
“Sure I do, and I bet you watch MSNBC.”
“Sometimes,” she said, with a shrug. “I usually watch CNN, but the hosts on MSNBC are at least rational beings compared to the ones on Fox.”
“Oh, come on. Some of them are just liberal loudmouths.”
“True, but at least they think about things compared to those crazies on Fox and Friends.”
“Now, watch what you say about my friends,” I said, waving my finger at her with a smile.
“Are you really friends with them?” she asked, her eyes aghast.
“Not really. I do watch Fox, but I mostly watch CNN. I only said I was ‘fair and balanced’ to get a rise out of you, and it worked.”
“Maybe.” Her giggle was adorable and she nodded toward her bracket. “Now you show me yours.”
“Whoa,” Larry said, stopping in his tracks as he entered the room. That same mischievous smile crossed his face. “Jessie, I can’t believe you’d ask that. You hardly know him.”
Jessie’s face turned pink, and her eyes widened in shock. From what I could tell, she was used to Larry making jokes at her expense. She just wasn’t used to him using sexual innuendos at her expense around a guy. Her recovery was quick though and shot him a dirty look. “You’re hilarious today, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am,” he answered, puffing up his chest.
I couldn’t let a golden opportunity like that pass. Maybe I could make her blush a little more. “It’s okay. She’s already shown me hers.”
She first looked astonished at what I’d said. Then it sunk in because I got the reaction I wanted. Her face flamed, and her mouth dropped open. Recovering again, she soon set her lips in a hard line and punched me in the arm. Her response was playful, rueful, and in the formal speak of the Congress. “I can’t believe the gentleman from Illinois would say such a thing.”
“I only said it because I think the gentle lady from Arizona has a sense of humor,” I countered. I nudged her with my arm. “Despite being a liberal feminist.”
“Oh, my God, I really hate that stereotype.” She shook her head and smiled. “Have you ever been around a group of liberal feminists?”
“Uh, not really.”
“Well, we’re usually cursing and cracking jokes.”
“I’ll attest to that,” Larry said. “You should hear Jessie and Trish when they’re working together. It’s like being in an NFL locker room.”
“That I’d like to see.” I smiled at her, hoping I broke some of the ice that had formed between us. “Anyway, I can’t show you my bracket because it’s online. I’m in a pool with a bunch of my friends.”
“Let me get my iPad for you. It’s somewhere in the kitchen,” Larry said, standing again. “I’ll let you two watch the game.” In an undertone, he added, “If that’s what you were doing.”
“My Wildcats are still winning,” Jessie remarked. Her tone wasn’t teasing as much as matter-of-fact, and she sat a little straighter. It sounded like she was offering proof that she was still paying attention.
As Larry walked away, I studied Jessie, whose cheeks were still a bit pink as she stared at the screen. I wondered if she was uncomfortable being alone with me. There was something about her rosy complexion and sudden bout of shyness that gave me hope. In a low voice, I said, “It’s no wonder Larry teases you.”
She turned to face me and arched her brow. “What do you mean?”
“Because usually, you’re this strong, self-assured woman.” Feeling more in control of the situation, I sank further into the sofa’s soft leather and stretched out my legs. I gave her a big smile. “You’re very cute when you get embarrassed.”
It was the second compliment I’d paid to her in less than a week’s time. I’d called her pretty the other night at the Boys and Girls Club, and now I’d said she was cute. I wondered what she’d make of it.
Her lips turned up into a nice smile, as she placed her hands on her cheeks as they got redder. “I’ve always blushed easily, and it makes me look like a four-year-old when I do.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” I gazed at her and was about to tell her she was beautiful. “I’d say—”
“I found it,” Larry called from the doorway. He hesitated for a moment because he must’ve sensed the vibe in the room.
I looked over to him and smiled. “Great. Thanks.”
Jessie used the interruption to move a few inches away from me. I hoped I wasn’t scaring her off. After I had taken the tablet from Larry, I nodded to her. “Here. Take a look. My buddies and I have a pool going on ESPN.”
“Okay.” She moved back closer as I began tapping away at the screen. After a second, I jerked the screen away and teased, “Did you just see my password?”
“Well, I saw your username.” She smiled. “It was MFLG and some numbers.”
“My initials, and I’m not telling you the rest, but you can probably figure it out. What’s my password?”
“Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell. It was DV something.”
“You’re probably one of those liberals who hates the NSA and yet you’re stealing my password.”
“Actually, I don’t really care about the NSA. You forget I’m an Army brat.”
“Well, I’m glad you missed it.”
“Let’s see,” she said as her eyes playfully wandered around the room in thought. “DV, DV. What begins with DV? Oh… I get it. You’re into music. Is it Dvorjak?”
How the hell did she guess? I scowled at her. “I’m not saying.”
“So that’s it.” She laughed. “Now I have your password. If I figure out your username, imagine what I could do.”
“Like ruin me?”
“I’d never do that, but it might be fun to make some mischief,” she said proudly.
“You’re a dangerous woman.” She really was.
“Hey,” Larry said as he held up his phone. “Sorry. I gotta make a call to taunt a friend of mine. Syracuse just went down. Oh, and Jessie, Arizona is still winning—by the way.”
“I know,” she said, with some annoyance. “I’m watching the game.”
As Larry grinned and made his call, I handed the iPad over to Jessie. “See. I’m in second place right now in my pool.”
“So? Maybe your friends don’t know basketball.” She looked at the names and smiled. “Boy, these are WASPy names. Who are these guys?”
“Friends from college mostly, and they’re not all WASPs. Nick is Greek-American; Joey’s my best friend. He’s Italian-American.” I leaned a little closer to her. “And I’m not a WASP. Remember? My family’s Catholic.”
“Practicing Catholics?”
“My mother, definitely. The rest of my family less so.” I smiled. “Me, least of all. You could say I’m lapsed.”
“Except when you’re campaigning or asked about it publicly?”
“Exactly. Probably the same way you’re Protestant.”
“You got it.” She handed the iPad back to me. “Now show me your bracket.”
Jessie leaned in closer to me and then all of a sudden backed away. “Hey,” she called out. “I’ve been wondering where you were.”
I looked over just as Trish entered the room. “Just finishing some stuff up,” she said, while staring directly at me.
By the time she reached the couch, I stood up and extended my hand to her. “Nice to see you again. Thank you so much for the great food. You’re an amazing cook.”
“Hi. No problem. I like cooking,” she said, shaking m
y hand. She then turned to Larry and leaned over to give him a quick kiss. “What games are you watching now?”
“Arizona won, so now we’re on to Texas and Duke,” he answered and stroked her hair. “Michael hates Duke. He has great taste.”
“Yes, he does,” she said, glancing at Jessie. “But what about his other teams?”
While Trish sat down in her matching chair next to Larry, I started talking about basketball, though I wondered if her question was actually about women. She continued with the basketball talk, though. It shouldn’t have surprised me, but she really did know a lot about sports. I guessed being married to a professional athlete kind of required it.
For the next hour, the conversation flowed smoothly among the four of us, and Trish was actually nice to me. Jessie wasn’t as flirty and sat closer to the other end of the sofa, but occasionally she still would catch my eye and we’d laugh together. Larry kept mentioning how nice it was having another guy in the house. All in all, it was an enjoyable evening, so enjoyable I was hoping we could do it again. Stupid me.
Trish’s announcement came as if she’d been waiting for just the right moment to crap all over everything. When Jessie yawned around nine o’clock, Trish said, “Jessie, you know before you leave tonight you should come upstairs and try on that dress for your date tomorrow.”
I was a lawyer and a politician. I was trained and paid to remain unaffected when I heard something bad or something I disagreed with. So, on the outside, I continued watching the game, but on the inside, I felt a punch to my gut. I heard Jessie say, “Thanks. But it’s not a date.”
“It’s a date. Come on,” Trish answered.
I slunk down into the sofa and turned to Jessie, who no longer looked sleepy. She sat straight up with her eyes alert. I turned back to the TV and collected my wits so my next question would sound as if I were asking what kind of paper towels she bought. With my focus on the game, I took a sip of beer and asked, “Who are you going out with?”
“Um. Alan Young.”