Home Free - Fern Michaels [13]
Lizzie Fox left the White House as quickly as her feet would carry her. As she literally raced down the halls, she wasn’t the least bit surprised to see staff members already at their desks, people she’d nodded to in the past, possibly had waved at or even spoken a few words to during her short tenure as the president’s counsel at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
Once she was a safe distance from that famous address, she pulled into a fast-food joint and ordered an English muffin and some hot coffee. She wolfed it down in the parking lot and wished she had another.
When she pulled into traffic again, she drove by her old offices, offered up a jaunty salute, but kept on going. Her destination was her old house, which she had decided not to rent out, after all. She liked the idea that she could come back to it anytime she felt like it and sleep in her old bed. She had even left some of her clothes and toiletries behind. The only thing she really needed was some coffee, but then she remembered that the last time she’d visited the house, she’d put the coffee in the freezer. Well, that meant she was good to go.
With hours looming ahead of her until it was time to go out to the farm, and with nothing better to do than think about her visit with the president, she could do a little dusting, a little mopping, and open the windows to air the place out. Then, maybe after she did that, she would build a fire and sit down and think about the meeting. It was a game plan. Of sorts.
In the end, she did nothing like that at all. She drove to Harry Wong’s dojo, greeted Bert and Jack, who were between classes, allowed herself to be bear-hugged, peeped in at Harry, who waved offhandedly and continued with his training. Seeing that she was in the way, Lizzie blew kisses and headed out the door. Her next stop was the Post and a visit with Maggie, who was so happy and giddy, all Lizzie could do was stare at her friend.
Maggie started to babble at once, bringing Lizzie up to date on her new relationship. “Don’t go getting the wrong idea, Lizzie, because we have not had sex yet. And you know what? That’s okay, too. We’re taking it slow and easy. He digs me, Lizzie. Do you believe that?” Not waiting for or expecting a reply, Maggie rushed on. “I’m thinking of taking him to Annie’s for Thanksgiving dinner. I plan on asking him tonight. We text and e-mail all day. Well, I do it more than he does. After all, he is a big money manager and has a duty to his clients, and he has to be careful.” At Lizzie’s look of alarm, Maggie almost screamed, “What? What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Maggie, does your new beau know about the vigilantes and your friendship with them?”
“I . . . well, I didn’t see the point . . . so to answer . . . no, I did not mention it. Maybe that’s why I have been holding . . . off.”
“What do you think he would do or say if you confided in him?” Lizzie asked quietly.
Maggie looked so stricken that Lizzie almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
Maggie sat down in her swivel chair and stared at Lizzie. “I don’t know, Lizzie. Well, that’s not quite true. I think he’d give me my walking papers. He said he was staying in town over Thanksgiving. I didn’t . . . What I mean is, I didn’t say what I was doing. I can still go to the farm on my own. That means he will have to eat somewhere alone, and that’s going to bother me. It will bother me, Lizzie. I can’t just not show up. I owe all of this,” she said, waving her arms about, “to Annie. And I want to see her new house and be with the girls. It’s been a while. Damn, why can’t things just work out?”
Lizzie tilted her head to the side, her expression one of I don’t have a clue. “That’s a hard one.”
Maggie suddenly bolted upright. “Lizzie, why are you here? You said last week you couldn’t make Thanksgiving dinner, because Cosmo was getting all those awards, and yet here you are. What’s up? And it’s so early in the morning.”
“I just came from the