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Page 17
hour, which meant no problem making the twelve-thirty luncheon. She was already dressed.
The third call was to her husband.
She felt a small ripple of excitement as she punched the numbers. She had never before dialed the White House.
After two transfers she heard her husband's voice.
"I'm on my way," she said.
"How did it go?"
"The good news," she said, "is that we're almost home."
There was a pause. "And the bad?"
"I'll tell you in person."
"Claire, I'm in the antechamber of the Oval Office."
"All the more reason."
"Well, how bad is it?"
"Nothing that can't be fixed."
"You're sure."
"I'm sure."
"Fine. It's what I want to hear," he said. "Don't be late. We're having lunch with the president and secretary of defense at twelve-thirty."
"When was the last time I let you down?"
"Good point."

 
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