His eyes were unreadable. “I…” His voice made a tiny little catch. “Ollie. I think maybe we need this break.”
I felt my heart wrench.
He looked into my eyes. “Can I ask you something?’
I swallowed hard and nodded.
Tom inhaled audibly. “Last night you said that you can’t be yourself with me. Do you really believe that?”
My mouth went dry. I wanted to avoid answering, but he stared at me with an intensity that would brook no lie. “I do, actually.”
The expression on his face looked like somebody had punched him in the gut, but he nodded and glanced at his watch. “The Metro probably isn’t running anymore. I’ll drive you home.”
“Thanks.”
We made small talk as we drove, and I waited until he pulled up to my building to say, “I’m sorry.”
He sat in the darkness for about ten seconds, staring straight ahead until he finally shook his head, and said, “No, I’m the one who’s sorry.”
CHAPTER 23
THE FIRST FAMILY HAD ATTENDED SERVICES the night before, and had no other official plans beyond entertaining their family for dinner at noon. An easy day, as far as we were concerned, and we planned to start preparations for the Easter meal just as soon as the morning rush was over. Cyan and I finished garnishing the breakfast plates just as Henry strode in. “Happy Easter,” I said.
Uncharacteristically grumpy, he pointed at me. “Do you know Howard Liss?”
“I wish I didn’t.”
“He accosted me on my way in to work.” Henry tied on an apron and consulted our schedule as he continued, working and talking at the same time. “The man is stalking the White House. When he saw me, he wanted to know why I had been brought back here to work.”
“That’s none of his business.”
Henry’s face flushed. “I wanted to tell him that, but you know reporters-they’ll make it sound like you’re hiding something. I just told him that I was happy to be able to help out as we prepared for Monday’s big event.”
I sensed there was more.
Henry’s eyebrows bunched together. “He asked about you. Specifically, he asked if you had any connection to Phil Cooper.”
“He did?”
Henry nodded. “Liss seems to believe that Cooper has a hidden agenda. He didn’t accuse the man of killing Minkus, but he came close enough for me to smell the suspicion on him. This Liss is a wild card.”
“You’re telling me. I don’t know where he gets his information.” I voiced a tidbit that had been bothering me. “Don’t you find it odd that he never publicized the fact that Bucky is suspended?”
Cyan shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t know. The newspapers didn’t even mention it. I think Paul kept that information in-house.”
“I wish all information was kept in-house,” I said.
Henry continued, undaunted. “Liss is determined to get Cooper fired.”
“He told you that?”
“Close enough. I quote: ‘Our country can’t afford to clean up any more of Cooper’s messes.’ ”
I shook my head. “We can’t worry about Liss. Or anyone else, for that matter. Our job today is simple: Easter dinner for the First Family, then the last-minute preparation for tomorrow. The sooner we get it all done, the sooner we can all get home to our own families. Now, let’s do our best to provide our president with the best dinner ever, shall we?”
Henry’s smile was wide. “You have become the leader I expected you to, Ollie.”
Monday morning I woke up earlier than I normally would. I couldn’t sleep, knowing how much we had to do. I had been through Easter Egg Rolls before-but this one loomed large. Short-staffed, behind schedule, and still suspected by the public, we were nonetheless expected to put on the biggest, best Egg Roll event ever. My family must have felt the same charge in the air because Mom and Nana got up with me, and bustled me out the door with good wishes for a successful day.
“You remember how to get there?” I asked them for the tenth time.
Mom sighed. “Yes, and before you double-check again, we do have our tickets. We will be there, Ollie. We wouldn’t miss it.”
I couldn’t take the Metro this early, so I drove in, trying my best to enjoy the dark morning sky and the promise of possibility. I usually loved early mornings-the air smelled fresher and the world sparkled with newness-but today my worries kept me from being able to enjoy any of it.
Once in the kitchen, there was very little chatter. After preparing the First Family’s breakfast, we set to work on everything else planned for the day. My mind was on Tom. And Bucky. And getting everything done just right and on time. The annual Egg Roll was a major Washington affair. I remembered the huge crowd waiting patiently for ticket distribution on Saturday. No one wanted to miss it.
Activities were scheduled-and food provided-all day. In addition to the actual rolling of the eggs, there would be a kid-friendly band playing pop hits; famous politicians reading books to youngsters; tours of the gardens; and, of course, visits from the Easter Bunny and other familiar characters.
By eight in the morning, we were ready.
“Let’s roll ’em out,” I said.
Henry began the arduous task of getting the hard-boiled eggs out to the South Lawn. Although he had lots of help from the wait staff, it was still a major production to get the eggs out with minimal breakage, and into place in time for the festivities to begin. We’d boiled about 15,000 eggs in total, dyeing a large portion of them. The remaining undyed eggs were set up at tables where children were offered supplies and the opportunity to decorate their own eggs, if they wished.
The pre-dyed eggs were used in the races. Marguerite Schumacher’s team not only provided giant spoons to push the eggs down their grassy lanes, her volunteers kept order-inasmuch as that was possible-running and timing the races, and naming winners. On a day like today, however, everybody won.
It was nice not to have to worry about that part. Once the boiled eggs were out of my kitchen, I breathed a sigh of relief. They were a huge responsibility and I was happy to deliver the precious eggs into Marguerite’s capable hands. Major hurdle number one: complete.
But then I remembered Bucky. He had worked so hard to get these eggs done-to get them delivered-to make sure everything went smoothly. For all his complaining, the curmudgeon should be here to appreciate the fruits of his efforts. I missed him.
With a grunt, I hoisted a lemonade dispenser onto a wheeled cart. We provided soft drinks and snacks all day. Keeping items cold, and others warm, was one of our biggest challenges. Another important concern was inventory. We wanted to have enough so as not to run out of anything. As Henry and the wait staff wheeled the third and fourth carts of eggs out the back of the White House and toward the South Lawn, I went over the menu again with Cyan. She and I had been alternating outdoor and indoor duty as we confirmed our strategy to replenish the buffet tables at regular intervals. We’d be keeping our runners busy.
On my final trip back to the kitchen, I ran into Cyan on her way out. “We’re good to go,” I said. “Perfect timing. I was just coming to get you.”
Together we headed to our station, just south of the East Wing. The morning was bright, the dew just beginning to evaporate. I wished for a touch more warmth today, and I was hopeful for it. The forecast called for a surge from the south. I rubbed my arms. Five more degrees would do it.
In addition to the official Easter Bunny, who was easily recognized by the massive, beribboned basket he carried, there were at least a dozen other costumed characters strolling the grounds. But most were not ordinary rabbits. Pink-, blue-, and purple-furred, I knew these were actually Secret Service agents in disguise. Cyan and I had seen several of them donning their outfits in the Map Room-the Guzy boys among them. One of the monstrous brothers lumbered by me. With a bulletproof vest and the bright, thick hide, it had to be extra hot in that costume. And no way to even wipe his brow without removing the headpiece. Poor guy.