Home Free - Fern Michaels [42]
“Therapy. It’s ongoing and never-ending. I was hoping for some kind of tour. One of the marines told me this afternoon was picture-taking time with the president. So there’s that. Tonight is dinner with the president. Other than that, I plan on reading some of the books on Camp David that are in my cabin. What are your plans?”
“About the same as yours. I’m going to walk a bit, see what I can see myself. I like being alone with my thoughts in strange places. I also want to hook up with some of the press and see what their take is on this weekend. Then like you said, we get our pictures taken with the president. A personal one-on-one, then a group shot of all us outsiders. I think I’ll run them in the paper when I get back. Human interest, that kind of thing.”
They talked about the paper, what it was like to be the editor in chief of such a famous newspaper, the paper that had almost single-handedly exposed the Watergate shenanigans. Her heart kicked up a beat when Gus said, “What was it like when you were covering the vigilantes? My whole unit couldn’t wait to read about them. It was like one of those serial movies you watched when you were a kid. That’s another way of saying, we all rooted for them, especially the women. When we heard that the president pardoned them, we had a party. Actually, the officers threw it, but no one is supposed to know that.”
Maggie chose her words carefully. “It was interesting. I can’t tell you how many times my e-mail server crashed, along with our switchboard, with supporters calling in to voice their opinions.”
“You’re friends with them, then?”
Another quick heartbeat. Maggie found herself studying the man she had just fallen in love with. She didn’t see anything to alarm her. “In a manner of speaking. My people have gotten some exclusives with them. The Post’s readership doubled when they were active.”
Gus seemed to accept Maggie’s explanation. “Since I got back, my only pastime other than therapy has been to read. I read your newspaper line by line, word for word, page by page. Then I quiz myself on what I read. I don’t mean online, either. I like holding the paper in my hand, and I regret the absence of ink on my hands when I’m done, the way it used to be. The funny thing is, I was never much of a reader. I was always doing something I thought was more important. Since I’ve been back, I think I know how Washington works.” He rolled his eyes, and Maggie laughed.
“Oh, look, here’s your friend, and my nurse is signaling me that it’s time to go. If you want to stop by, feel free. I’m done with morning therapy around eleven. Today is range of motion.”
Before Maggie could agree or disagree, Gus was steering his chair across the dining-room floor, and Jason Parker plopped down next to her.
Maggie had to fight with herself to be civil. She did her best to smile. “Good morning, Jason.”
“I don’t see what’s good about it. Didn’t you see that snow out there? It rather hampers one’s day, don’t you think?”
Maggie stretched her neck to peer down at Jason’s feet and the expensive Bally shoes he was wearing. She pointed to her own stout boots. “I think I told you this wasn’t a fashion party. Your attire is about as out of place here as tits on a bull.”
Jason winced. “I lost my notebook. By any chance did you see it?”
“No. What does it look like?”
“One of those little ones that were in the cabin. The complimentary ones. I made some notes in it.”
“Nope, didn’t see it.”
Maggie thought Jason looked upset. She wondered what kind of notes a moneyman such as he would have made. She almost asked but changed her mind.
“Since you seem to have appointed yourself the head of the fashion police, what do you think I should wear for the formal picture? I guess what I’m asking is, what are you going to wear?” Jason asked.
“What difference does it make what I wear?” Maggie said, deliberately not answering Jason’s question.
“Well, since you brought me as your guest, I thought we should have a