Part 14 (2/2)
Their response was to give me a ride home. They suggested I sleep it off.
And they told me not to come anywhere near the president or the White House again.
Ever.
CHAPTER 12.
A note was pinned to my front door.
Stop trying to contact me!-C I tore it down and unlocked the door, wondering how long the note had been up there, how many times the mailman had seen it.
With a mail slot on the front door, whenever I'm gone even for a few days the acc.u.mulation of mail on the other side makes opening the door an experience. Glossy magazines are slipperier than ice.
Steering around the pile of mail on the floor, I tossed my bag onto the sofa and opened windows to air out the place. Then I returned for the mail. I bent over and felt like I'd been bit all over again.
The bite that keeps on biting, I lamented.
Through trial and error I found that bending over didn't hurt as much if I was on my knees. Just as I was reaching for the electric bill, my phone rang. The display said it was Jana.
”Hi, it's me,” she said softly.
”Hi. I'm glad you called.”
”I apologize for not returning your calls last night,” she ventured.
”No . . . not at all.”
”It's just that-”
”We both had a rough day,” I said. ”I just wanted to take you to dinner and apologize.”
”Well . . . how about today? Are you free for lunch?”
I groaned.
”I understand . . .” she said.
”No! No, it's not that . . . it's . . . well, I'm on my knees here.”
”Grant, you don't have to beg . . . after all we've been through together?”
I laughed. ”It's not that, I'm on my knees in my apartment, picking up the mail.”
”Your apartment?”
”In D.C.”
”Oh! Now I feel foolish. With cell phones you never . . .”
”Yeah . . . you never know where you're calling.”
”I don't know why I a.s.sumed you would be staying in San Diego longer,” she said.
”It was important I get back here.”
”I guess I keep forgetting what an important man you are now,” she said.
”Not so important.”
”Is San Diego on your itinerary anytime soon?”
I sighed. ”At the moment I don't have an itinerary, everything's sort of up in the air. I don't know when I'll be out West again.”
”OK . . . I understand . . . I was just hoping to clear the air a little, to talk with you when I wasn't so emotional . . .” She paused. ”And to tell you that I overreacted about Christy-”
”Christina.”
”I really don't know why I acted like I did, it's not like we've been seeing each other or anything, I mean, it's been years! But the way you held me on the freeway . . . it brought back a lot of old feelings and they surprised me.”
”About Christina . . . we're not-”
”Really, Grant, it's none of my business. Oh! And I hear you met Sue Ling! Small world, huh? Isn't she special?”
”Yeah . . . special. She thinks the world of you.”
”It's mutual. She's the smartest person I've ever met! Well, I'm sure you have a thousand things to do . . . Oh, are you going to come to Myles's funeral? It's next Tuesday.”
A dozen quips leaped to mind regarding Myles, none of them kind, or appropriate. I went for the simple answer, ”I don't think that will be possible.”
”Well, if things change, you know? I know he would have wanted you there. It looks like the whole city is going to be there. The mayor. Chief of police. You know, honoring the former teacher of the year . . . The station tried to get me to cover it, but I don't think I'll be in any shape to do a broadcast.”
”My thoughts will be with you.”
”Keep in touch, Grant, OK? And the next time you're going to be in San Diego, try giving a girl a little advance notice.”
Closing the phone, I slipped it into my pocket. There are no feelings like old romantic feelings. I gathered my mail in an emotional fog.
I stood in the shadows of Christina's three-story, brick apartment building in Adams Morgan. My usual place to wait for her is parked on the street within sight of her parking s.p.a.ce in the rear of the building. Circ.u.mstances suggested a change of tactics. I was afraid if she saw me while she was still behind the wheel, she'd rabbit. So I parked two blocks away on Mintwood and waited in the shadows beside the steps.
Actually, the shadows weren't necessary. I stood there because I couldn't sit. The side of the steps gave me something to lean against. I had no idea how long I'd be waiting.
People who work in the West Wing live in the West Wing. Their apartments are little more than walk-in closets and staging areas for the next meeting, party, or event.
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