eleven

When Beth went down to breakfast early Monday morning, Jacobs was sitting at the booth in the breakfast nook. Ross stood at the island bar, choosing from an array of breakfast dishes, including cereal and fresh fruit. After she and Ross sat, Jacobs said, “Let’s ask God to bless the food.” He said the prayer while they bowed their heads and closed their eyes.

Whatever apprehension she might have felt just vanished. It was as she had supposed. Christians had a common bond, no matter whatever differences there might be in their lives. In no time at all, the three of them were chatting about everything from what her favorite foods were to what the paper said about the senator and the president.

The nicest thing happened after breakfast when Jacobs asked if she’d like to join him in his morning devotions. Ross said he needed to make a few calls and then get down to campaign headquarters. Beth had already had her devotions, but she was delighted that she and Jacobs could spend a few moments worshiping God and reading His Word. No wonder this man had become such a success. He had things in the right perspective.

After devotions, Beth and Jacobs went into the library where Jacobs instructed her on her computer, a kind she was familiar with, gave her the newspaper E-mail address and fax number, as well as a personal E-mail address.

“Your time is your own,” he said, “as long as you get the columns in on time. And if you need us, my secretary and I will be in the next room.”

A woman’s voice sounded from the doorway. “Did I hear my name?”

Jacobs turned, and a thin, short woman who looked to be around his age walked in. Her silvery white, boyish, bobbed hair moved softly at the sides of her face as she neared the desk so that Jacobs could introduce them.

“Mrs. Millicent Cooms,” he said, “without whom we’d all be lost.”

“Flattery will not replace my annual raise, Jacobs,” the woman said firmly.

“I’ve found that out over the years,” he returned, then smiled. Beth could see they liked each other.

“Oh, I have Beth’s press card and expect to get confirmation today that she’s included in the reception.”

“Fine,” Jacobs said. As Millicent returned to the office, Jacobs explained. “Since you’re now under contract with the newspaper, you will be included in the annual local journalists’ reception on Friday.”

“Hmmm,” she said with a lift of her eyebrows, “that sounds impressive.”

“It usually is,” he agreed. “It’s held at the White House.”

❧

How am I supposed to work on Monday—with next Friday and the White House on my mind? Beth wondered a short while later, looking at the stack of letters dropped off by Pamela the previous Friday. After separating them into light and serious subjects, she decided to start with the light ones.

She laughed when she came upon one from “Desperate Phil.”

Dear Auntie,

For eleven years my house dog, Chumley, has laid at my feet while I read the evening paper after coming home from work. Recently, I’ve been working late, and when I come home, he’s in my chair. When I make him get out, he tucks his tail between his legs, drops his head, and honestly looks like he’s crying. He gets at my feet but looks up at me with such an accusing expression, I feel guilty. Should I let him have my recliner?

Desperate,

Phil

Beth thought of replying, “What would you do if Chum-ley decided he wanted to drive your car?” But on second thought, although some subjects were lighter than others, if someone cared enough to write a letter about something, then she should treat each question as serious. She closed her eyes and asked God to help her answer in a way that would benefit the questioner, no matter how trivial the subject might seem to her.

Dear Desperate Phil,

I think your “dog daze” situation calls for “tough love.” Apparently Chumley has become like a family member. But dogs, like children, are unable to make adult decisions, and we must use loving discipline in order to make their, and our, lives acceptable. A guest in your home might consider it rude for a dog to be treated with more dignity than you treat yourself. If you had a child and the child wanted to take over your favorite chair, would you allow that? Since you asked, you’re apparently in doubt. A good rule of thumb is, “If in doubt, don’t do it.” When he jumps into your chair, just demand, “Down, boy!”

Your dog has been your best friend for eleven years. The change in him might be because your work schedule has changed. Talk with Chumley’s vet about this situation during your next visit.

And, Phil, what a beautiful word picture you have painted of his lying at your feet.

Lovingly tough,

Auntie

Beth printed it out and took it in for Jacobs to read.

“Perfect,” he said and applauded.

“You think Catherine would be pleased?”

“Catherine is so pleased with you already, I doubt anything would shake that confidence.” He smiled. “Believe me, you have not let her down.”

Beth breathed deeply, then stood. “Could I get you a cup of coffee or something?”

“Trudy could do that,” he said.

“I know,” she said, “but I would like to do something for you. I know you’re the editor in chief, with all the power that goes with that. But you have made me feel so comfortable with you, like I’m just a coworker. I know we joke around like I’m an equal with you and Ross. But. . .I know who I am, and where I come from.”

Seeing that pensive look come onto his face and noticing how he broke their gaze, Beth wondered if she’d gushed too much and embarrassed him. But he smiled gently. “I take my coffee black, thank you.”

❧

Jacobs sat with his fingers against his lips. Did Beth really know as much about herself as she thought? He almost wished he hadn’t put the investigators on a more extensive background check. Some things were best left alone.

But it was done. And the report could come through any- time now. Had he gone beyond investigating and begun snooping? And what if, by chance, the report did reveal more puzzling developments? How far should he go with his inquiries?

How far would Catherine want him to go?

Did Catherine really only want him to give this adorable girl a chance to have a little fun and gain experience in Washington? Could it possibly be so simple?

Was anything ever simple—with Catherine?

But he needed to stop thinking of Catherine, however difficult that was, with this young reminder before him daily. Seeing the happy girl at the doorway with their coffee and a cup for Millicent, he tried to focus on the matters at hand. This girl was bringing a lot of joy into this otherwise rather staid household.

❧

By Thursday, Ross’s suspicions he’d had that first night he saw Beth were verified. As he stood before his bathroom mirror and shaved he concurred—she has everything! She had beauty, brains, and moral character. Her appearance at home and in public was conservative and impeccable. Her freshness and enthusiasm drew people to her. And too, she gave every indication, without being flirtatious, that she liked him.

He liked that!

He watched his own smile widen, admitting that the thought of her was more invigorating inside and out than the bracing tingle of the aftershave he splashed on his face and neck.

Catherine had probably instructed Beth well. Many times he’d heard Catherine say after a successful matchmaking scheme, “I like the old-fashioned way. A girl should chase a guy until he catches her.” He liked the challenge presented by Beth’s reserved way of pretending she wasn’t pursuing him.

Well, if Catherine had in mind a matchmaking scheme, he would like to thank her. He seriously doubted that Beth dressed like a Washingtonian in Small Town, South Caro-lina. She’d been a knockout in her red suit on Sunday. He could hardly wait to see what she’d wear to the White House.

Soon he slipped on his suit coat, straightened his tie, ran his fingers along the side of his thick curly hair, and smiled at his reflection. Just that morning at breakfast he’d made the comment, “She’d be terrific working at Dad’s campaign headquarters.”

“She needs to get settled into her job, Ross. Let’s not rush her,” Jacobs had said with that steady gaze of his that spoke volumes that his lips didn’t. With a glance, Jacobs revealed he knew what was in the back of Ross’s mind, and he wasn’t going to let him get away with it.

Well, we’ll see.

She likes me. She liked my introduction of Dad that first night. She has obviously enjoyed my company. Rush? She’s only going to be here for two months. Every good journalist knows an introduction is only the teaser. Let’s get to the heart of the matter. Heart? No, on second thought, let’s keep the heart out of it.

She was a smart girl. Instead of trying to please him, she went about her business, being her own person. That was admirable. Having morning devotions with Jacobs was a good move too. She certainly had reeled him in. And, pretending to have a boyfriend too!

Shaking his head, he chuckled. A young woman, serious about a man, wasn’t going to leave him for two months in order to write an advice column. Oh, this was great! This was Catherine at her best!

Still smiling, he closed the door of his suite, bounded down the stairs, and with a spring in his step and a purpose in his stride, walked across the foyer. Sneaking glances to ensure neither Jacobs nor Beth were near, he went into the library. At Beth’s desk, he took from his pocket the question he’d typed the day before and stuck it underneath the top question in the stack labeled “serious.”