“This way, sir, ma’am,” Johnson said. “The First Lady is in the ///drawing room.///”
“Amanda,” Mike said when they walked in the room.
The ///drawing room was ///.
“Michael,” the First Lady said, smiling and shaking his hand then giving him a hug. “It’s so good to have you in the House at last. You really shouldn’t stay away so much.”
“It’s Washington, ma’am,” Mike said, shaking his head. “I really shouldn’t come here at all.”
“Nonsense,” Amanda said. “And this must be Miss Rakovich.”
“Ma’am,” Anastasia said, shaking the First Lady’s hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you,” the First Lady said. “I know that Michael has to go to an appointment and I won’t keep him longer. But you are my guest and I’d like to talk for a bit if you don’t mind. I know you’ve been flying for a while so if you’d prefer to rest… ”
“I’d love to sit and chat, ma’am,” Anastasia said, smiling. “I got some sleep on the plane. Quite a lot, actually.”
“Then, Michael, I look forward to seeing you when you get back,” the First Lady said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Mike said, wondering just how bad this was going to be. “I look forward to it as well.”
“You are Russian, Miss Rakovich?” the First Lady said, sitting on the divan. “Please,” she added, gesturing to one of the antique chairs.
“Yes, ma’am,” Anastasia said, easily. The door opened and a small, thin black lady came in with a tea service.
“I made the assumption that tea would be acceptable,” the First Lady said, nodding at the maid in thanks and pouring for both of them.
“Yes, ma’am,” Anastasia said.
“Please call me Amanda,” the First Lady said, smiling. “Ma’am and First Lady grow tiresome quickly and I consider Michael a friend. Sugar?”
“Then could you call me Anastasia?” Anastasia said. “Or even Stasia if you wish. Two lumps.”
“Stasia it shall be,” the First Lady said, proferring the cup. “Russian? Or perhaps Ukraine?”
“Russian, Amanda,” Anastasia said. “But I hardly remember it. I left when I was twelve.”
“And then?” the First Lady said, sipping her tea.
“Uzbekistan,” Anastasia said, picking up her own.
“You waited until I took the first sip,” the First Lady said, smiling. “Where did you train?”
Anastasia paused and then set down her cup.
“In a harem,” she replied. “I was married, an arranged marriage, to a sheik in Uzbekistan at the age of twelve.”
She had expected at least mild shock. The First Lady just nodded and took another sip.
“Not exactly what I’d expected, but close,” she said. “I would say something like ‘I’m sorry’ but that doesn’t quite cover it, does it?”
“It’s not really that bad,” Anastasia admitted, picking up her tea again. “I was raised on a small and very poor farm. Given the conditions, then, and my looks, I would probably have ended up as a prostitute if I hadn’t been noticed by one of the sheik’s scouts.”
“But far outside my own experience, and therefore fascinating,” the First Lady said. “For one thing I had not expected that harems trained quite so precisely in manners.”
“I was, among other things, Sheik Otryad’s harem manager,” Anastasia said. “I was given advanced training. But there is a good bit of what can be called ‘manners’ to being in a well run hareem. It is not all about… that. It is about creating a quiet and comfortable place for the sheik to retreat to.”
“Now that I can understand,” the First Lady said. “One reason that it’s wise for presidents to have a really good spouse is to create that refuge.”
“Yes, for Presidents that would be vital,” Anastasia said, nodding vigorously. “The pressures of such a position are very nearly killing. They need that one place where there is no pressure, where they know that they are accepted just as they are. That is the true purpose of the hareem and I have the hardest time explaining that to anyone. It sometimes drives me nearly to distraction, yes?”
“I believe I touched a nerve there, Stasia, sorry,” the First Lady said, grinning. “But I think you are good for Michael as well. He has some of the same problems, I think.”
“Yes, he does,” Anastasia said, calming. “In a way he has no one that tells him what to do but there are so many politics, yes? He has to keep his Keldara on his side. He must deal with the Georgians and the Americans and the Russians, friend to all but never so close that any own him. I try to give him that quiet place. But even there he puts so many pressures on himself sometimes I want to tear my hair out. He is so… American.”
“That he is,” the First Lady said.
“I am sorry to be so strong,” Anastasia said, shaking her head. “I am not normally like this.”
“I tend to cause people to talk,” the First Lady said. “It is one of my talents. Very useful in politics, I might add.”
“Where is your place?” Anastasia asked. “Where do you go for comfort?”
“Oh, books,” the First Lady replied. “And David. We are very good for each other. And I think you are good for Michael. Michael Ford this time. It’s always so cloak and dagger.”
“I think that the idea is that if his normal name ever comes up in connection with something, no one will connect it to the White House.”
“That is to be hoped,” the First Lady said. “But I’ve wanted him to come to the House for some time. We had him at Camp David, of course, but he’s never made it to the House. Of course, officially, I don’t know why he was at Camp David. Or why my husband thinks that he walks on water. But it was rather easy to determine, given the timing.”
“I would not know,” Anastasia said. “I have only known him as the Kildar. The years before… ? I know he is American. I surmise, from his friendship with Master Chief Adams, that he was in the Navy commandoes, the SEALs. Other than that I know very little. I know not to ask.”
“Smart girl,” the First Lady said, leaning forward and patting her on the leg.
“And that explains,” Anastasia said, smiling.
“Yes, it does,” the First Lady said. “That was why I made sure someone passed the word that I wanted to meet Michael’s ‘assistant.’ But I’ll say that that is no longer the reason. I like you, Stasia. I like you very much. Mi casa is su casa as we say in Texas.”
“Gracias, Senora,” Anastasia replied, smiling. “Usted es bien amable.”
“¿Usted habla español?” the First Lady said, smiling back.
“Si,” Anastasia said. “Dominó en Español. Tambien Deutsche, Russkiya, Arabi, Francais y Uzbek.”
“And English,” the First Lady said.
Anastasia just shrugged and held up one hand, palm up.
“I’m glad we’ve met,” the First Lady said. “David holds him in such high esteem, I felt it was vital that he, and you, come to visit.”
“I’m just his assistant,” Anastasia pointed out.
“If you were just his assistant, Stasia, the protocol recommendation would have suggested two rooms,” the First Lady said. “But I am glad to meet you. I wanted to know who the woman was in his life.” The First Lady paused then smiled. “Or should that be ‘women’.”
“Oh, most definitely ‘women’,” Anastasia replied. “But for the purposes that you mean, the woman that he looks to for most such things, that would be me.”
“There are arrangements into which, I have learned, it is unwise to pry,” the First Lady said, smiling disarmingly. “Has coming out of the hareem been difficult? Do you find it hard to deal with cities and people?”