XXIII

Washington, 2062

SAMUEL, KATE'S ADMIN ASSISTANT, ARRANGED for a car to meet me at Dulles airport, so I wouldn't have to drag my luggage on a shuttle bus to Washington. I knew I was staying several weeks, and I had packed accordingly. Kate was giving me preferential treatment. I would even have the use of an F.E.D. apartment in northwest Washington.

The car, however, did not bring my luggage and me to the apartment. We went directly to F.E.D. headquarters. Sam met me at the front door, gave me an identification badge, and ushered me to Kate's office.

Kate was on the phone, but I was waved in. I sat in front of Kate's desk while she concluded the call.

"James, thank you for coming on short notice. You look just the same. How long has it been—two years?"

"Yes, just about. You look great, Kate. The job must agree with you." I had lied. Her face was drawn. There was dark, puffy flesh under her eyes.

"I look like shit. You're a lousy liar."

"No, seriously."

"James, we've known each other too long for that. Let's get down to business."

I nodded in acknowledgment.

"I'm designating you a special assistant for the next five or six weeks. I want you to be my eyes and ears. I need someone I can trust."

"You have a staff of hundreds right here in this building."

"Obviously I do, but I don't know them as well as I know you. They have their own agendas. You're not involved with the office politics. Plus, we go back a long way. We've been . . ." Kate hesitated to get the right words. "We've been through a lot of things together and have maintained our mutual respect."

Kate looked at me, perhaps expecting my concurrence. I sat and listened.

"The reason I need you here is that I have to go into the hospital. I have a tumor in my breast. It's malignant. It has to be removed."

I was shocked. I had thought of Kate as indestructibly eternal. Suddenly I understood why her appearance had changed. "I'm so sorry to hear that. I find it difficult to believe."

"I wish I were joking." She paused and then continued. "The tumor alone will be removed. Then I'll have a few radiation treatments. It's a short sequence. They say it's supposed to be ninety-five percent as effective as the longer series, which really knocks the shit out of you. Anyway, five or six weeks is as much time as I can afford."

"You should really put your health first," I offered the obvious advice.

"I'm a big girl. I made my decision, and I'll live with it."

My brain added, Or die with it, but I couldn't articulate the phrase, and I was even ashamed to think of it.

"So here's the game plan. I'll be out for two or three days because of the surgery. Then I'll need to be off a day or two for each of the weekly radiation treatments. Of course, the doctors need to check the result of each treatment and confirm I can move on to the next. But I'm determined to keep to the schedule and get this over with."

I wished Kate had more concern for her course of treatment, rather than viewing it as something to dispense with as quickly as possible. But I knew that any suggestion of this sort would do no good and furthermore would not be appreciated.

Kate moved on to cover what was more important to her than her illness; namely, the things she wanted me to keep my eye on during her absences. It seemed that she didn't totally trust her two deputy secretaries, particularly Wayne Sickles, who was thought of, in some circles, as a rising star. She knew he had strong opinions, which were not necessarily aligned with hers. In her absence, she feared he would push his own ideas.

Sickles had been an executive in the solar energy industry. His interests, Kate felt, were still focused in this area. He tended to think of Kate's pursuit of additional sources of crude oil as quixotic. He realized that crude was needed for certain purposes, such as aviation and the military, but even here he thought more effort was needed in the area of alternative fuels.

Kate appreciated Sickles's intelligence, and even his willingness to state a novel opinion. However, she thought he pursued his contrary notions even after she rejected them and they were excluded from department priorities.

Kate and I met for an hour, taking us to noon. Kate informed me that we would have lunch with Wayne Sickles and her other deputy secretary, Hazel Dumas. Unlike Sickles, Hazel Dumas was a long-time employee of the Federal Energy Department. I had met her on a number of occasions, but had never worked closely with her. However, I was not in Washington to monitor Hazel. Wayne was my primary target.

Our lunch was cordial. Kate explained that I was going to act as a special assistant for the month and a half during which she was to undergo surgery and treatments. Obviously, Wayne and Hazel had received some earlier briefing on Kate's health. Wayne, responding in a politic fashion, assured Kate that he would be delighted to work with me. Hazel merely smiled. Her smile, however, disappeared when Kate stated that Wayne would be attending any cabinet meetings taking place when she was absent. Kate went on to state that Wayne and Hazel should keep me informed of any staff meetings they were holding, so that I would have the opportunity of sitting in.

After lunch, which had been brought into Kate's conference room, she asked me to stay. "I'm going to give you some information on the major projects we're working on."

"Good. I'll review them this weekend."

"There's one other thing I'd like you to do over the weekend, if you're willing."

"Just tell me."

"I'm going to have the surgery Monday morning. I don't want to be alone Sunday evening. Could we go out to dinner or go to a movie or both?"

"Of course."

Kate smiled weakly. "You're sweet. Somehow I can always count on you."

Samuel, Kate's admin assistant, gave me the reading material that Kate had promised. Then the department's car drove me to the apartment, which was just off Dupont Circle.

The early October day was warm. The apartment, when I arrived, was stuffy. I checked the thermostat. The governor would not allow it to go below twenty-six degrees. The F.E.D. had to adhere to its own rules. Perhaps it was one I worked on—I really didn't remember. I stripped to my undershirt and slacks.

I sized up my new quarters. It was a one-bedroom apartment, which included a combined living room and dining area, a small kitchen, and a bathroom that featured both a tub and a stall shower. The refrigerator contained a six-pack of domestic beer, six colas— three diet and three regular—six bottles of spring water, a small tub of margarine, a quart of milk, some cheese spread, and a loaf of raisin bread. The freezer was empty except for a package of French toast. In the cupboard I found instant coffee, tea bags, and crackers. Obviously the apartment was equipped for snacking, but not much more.

I unpacked my two suitcases. October could bring both warm and cool weather to Washington, so I had packed accordingly. The armoire was more than ample to hold my socks, underwear, and a dozen shirts. The closet had more than enough hangers for my needs.

Once unpacked, I decided to scout out the neighborhood. A block away I found a Chinese restaurant, which featured a hefty takeout menu. A grocery store, small but adequate, was around the corner. Some fancy restaurants were located within a few blocks, but I doubted that these would be needed.

Kate asked me to come to her apartment around four on Sunday afternoon. In the interim, I had two days to kill. Of course, reading would fill a number of hours, but that still left plenty of time.

An idea came to me as I was walking back to the apartment. I reached for my phone and found the number I wanted. A woman's soft voice answered.

"Pat?"

"Yes."

"It's James, James Lendeman."

"James, delightful to hear from you. To what do I owe this good fortune?"

"I'm in Washington for a few weeks, so I wanted to give you a call."

"I'm glad you did. We'll have to get together."

"That's exactly what I was thinking. Are you doing anything tomorrow night?"

"I'm sorry. I have something planned. But I have plenty of other time available over the next few weeks."

We agreed to reserve the following Saturday night. Pat offered to cook dinner, if I'd take her to the movies. I readily agreed.

I walked to the grocery store again and bought an initial stock of food. After putting some frozen and refrigerated items away, I decided to get a start on my homework assignment. The warm apartment, along with the dull, analytical material and my earlier travel made me doze off. I slept until after seven. The Chinese restaurant that I had located earlier supplied my dinner that night, as it would on a number of subsequent occasions.

One seat at the dining area table faced the TV. I put my takeout, a plate, a glass of beer, and utensils in front of me. I sought some sporting event to watch. I was not optimistic. College football in my youth was primarily played on Saturdays, pro football on Sundays. Basketball had not yet started. Baseball, which was now reduced to an eighty game season, was over. Of course, all games were played at the national centers, leading to a waning of hometown interest. I found a rerun of a bicycle race—at least that was an energy-efficient sport, albeit boring.

As I began my second beer, the phone rang. Kate was at the other end. "How are you adapting to your return to Washington?"

"I'm doing fine. Eating some Chinese takeout."

"I'm envious. I'm having some canned soup."

"Can't a cabinet member do better than that?"

"It came right out of my own cabinet." I forced a chuckle in response to her lame joke. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."

"No. I'm here, all alone. I don't have many contacts left in the city. How are you doing?"

"I'm going crazy. I can't concentrate on work, and I don't want to dwell on my surgery."

"What can I do?" I suspected Kate already had something in mind.

"I don't want to drag you out of your comfortable apartment tonight. It is comfortable, isn't it?"

"It's fine."

"That's good. But I can't go through this weekend by myself. Could you come over tomorrow? You haven't planned anything else?"

"Just the reading you gave me. I'll gladly interrupt that."

"Not that fascinating?"

"Not as fascinating as you." As the words slipped out, I wondered if I had gone too far.

But Kate's reaction was bland. "I'm not sure how fascinating I can be, given the circumstances. I want you to get my mind off myself. Maybe we could do something in the afternoon, then have dinner together. Then we'll spend Sunday doing something. We'll figure it out. I just hope I won't bore or depress you."

I hated to hear this powerful and important woman plead for attention. "Kate, I'll be happy to do whatever you want. And I'm sure I'll enjoy being with you. I always do."

"Look, I don't have a car assigned to me on the weekend. Can you get over to Arlington? It's only a few blocks from my old apartment." Kate gave me the address, and I agreed to arrive around noon. She told me to bring a change of clothes in case I wanted to spend the night.

"Is your couch comfortable?"

"I have a better job now. I can afford a guest room."

The Metro took me to a stop only a block from Kate's apartment. I arrived in her neighborhood at a quarter to twelve, toting a suitcase that was embarrassingly large for an overnight stay. I wheeled it around the block to kill ten minutes before entering her lobby. A guard, who looked like he might be a government employee, questioned me and asked for identification before buzzing Kate's apartment.

The inner lobby and elevator were filled with security cameras. I suspected that the building was home to a number of high-ranking government officials. To get to Kate's apartment on the tenth floor, I was told to take the elevator to eleven and then go down one flight. On the eleventh floor I encountered another security guard, who checked my identification again, asked me to open the suitcase, and then directed me to a small elevator that served the ninth through twelfth floors.

Kate's apartment was at the end of the hall, and I correctly surmised that it occupied a corner of the building. Kate answered the door and planted a kiss on my cheek. "Looks like you're planning to stay a while." Kate was eyeing my big suitcase.

"Remember, you asked me to stay in Washington for a month. I had to bring two large suitcases, not an overnight bag. Are you afraid your neighbors will notice?"

Kate took my comment seriously. "No. Everyone minds his or her own business around here. Come in. I'll show you around."

I immediately noticed that much of the furniture had come from her old apartment. Obviously, it had followed her around over the past few years. The apartment had a balcony that faced Washington.

Indeed, Kate now had two bedrooms. Her own had a canopied bed hung with pink and gray fabric. Opposite the bed, a long, low Chinese-inspired dresser was topped by a mirror which extended about two-thirds of its length. The guest bedroom contained a queen-sized bed with no headboard. A plain chest of drawers was stuck in a corner; a small, undistinguished print hung on an otherwise bare wall. Obviously, Kate had invested little in the guest bedroom, perhaps reflecting its usefulness to her.

We walked back into the living room, past the small galley kitchen. "I had some sandwiches delivered. There's a very good deli a block away. Are you hungry now?"

"I'll eat when you feel like eating."

"Strangely enough, I'm starving." Kate went to the refrigerator, which, I noticed, was largely empty, except for the platter that contained six half-sandwiches. "There's tuna, corned beef, and turkey. Do you want a beer?"

"I'll have soda if you have any."

"Of course."

We sat at the dining room table, which had a view of Washington beyond the balcony. "Pretty, isn't it?" Kate commented, looking at the city. "It hides the ugliness within."

"That's a rather negative point of view."

"Probably more jaded than negative. Excuse me. I'm afraid my disposition has taken a turn for the worse. I'll probably be lousy company."

"Well, let's do the best we can."

The day was sunny and pleasantly warm, a few degrees cooler than on Friday. We went to the Mall and wandered through several exhibits. A few people obviously recognized Kate, but none became intrusive. After looking at Kate, some looked at me. They were probably thinking, "Who the hell is the guy with the Energy Secretary?"

In mid-afternoon we stopped at an outdoor café for drinks. Kate sat facing the sun. I could see the signs of aging: the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes, some slack skin under her chin. She was still a beautiful woman, but she was clearly a woman in her forties, possibly approaching fifty. It occurred to me that I didn't know her true age.

We watched the families enjoying their day off. Some youngsters were happy; some were arguing with their parents.

"I think I'm happy I never had a child. I would have been a lousy mother."

"People can learn to be good parents."

"But Jane wasn't."

"No," I agreed. "But she tried to be in her own misguided way."

The conversation stopped for a few minutes. We watched the human parade, each consumed by our own analysis of these passing figures. I liked to people watch. I suspected that Kate rarely engaged in such an activity. She was a doer, not an observer.

Our drinks were long finished. "Can I get you another?" I asked.

"No. If you don't mind, I'd like to go home now."

We arrived at Kate's Metro stop. There was a street leading away from her building. It appeared to contain a number of shops and restaurants. "That looks like an interesting street," I observed.

"I never go that way. My driver pulls into the garage. Occasionally I have to take the Metro, but I don't explore."

"Do you want to?"

"I'm a bit tired. But you go ahead if you want to."

"No, we'll do it some other time. I'll go upstairs with you."

Kate told me she was going to lie down for a half hour and suggested that I think about what I'd like for dinner. I turned the TV on, but couldn't find anything interesting. I logged onto my computer and looked for restaurants in Kate's neighborhood. As I suspected there were several in the street that I had pointed out. One was Chinese—but I had had Chinese food the night before. Two were Italian. One was essentially a pizzeria. The other looked higher class with northern Italian specialties. Another was a sushi bar, but with the diminished transportation schedules I was wary of eating raw fish.

An hour went by and I could hear no stirring in Kate's bedroom. The door was closed. I turned the handle slightly. It was not locked. I could hear Kate's regular breathing. I decided to wake her. I gently touched her arm.

Kate awoke with a start. "Oh, James, it's you." She did not seem angry. "I'm not used to having anyone else in the apartment."

"You said you were only going to rest for a half hour. You slept for over an hour."

"I was tired. What time is it?"

"Around seven."

"In the evening?"

"Yes."

"Then it's getting close to dinner time. Are you getting hungry?" For some reason Kate now put her hand on my arm.

"I'm sure I'll be hungry by the time we're ready to eat. I noticed that there are two Italian restaurants nearby. One has pizza; the other seems to be fancier."

"I've ordered pizza from a restaurant called Pazzi."

"That's the one."

"The pizza was pretty good. Do you mind if we don't go out?"

"Fine with me," I replied, although I would have preferred to dine at a restaurant.

The pizza, which had to go through an interesting clearance process, turned out to be quite good, if a little cool. The wine that Kate supplied was much better. Kate's larder was rather bare, but she possessed a temperature-controlled wine cabinet in the corner of the kitchen. It was stocked with Bordeaux and pinot noir, plus a sprinkling of champagne and chardonnay. In total, there were about fifty bottles.

Kate picked an Oregon pinot noir. "I'm not sure if this will go well with pizza, but I'm sure we'll enjoy it anyway." And so we did.

Kate ate only one slice of pizza. I ate three. We both lingered over the wine. Kate's conversation jumped from work to politics to health concerns and, ultimately—and surprisingly—to family. "Did I ever mention I have a sister?"

"I don't believe so."

"She's an older sister, eight years older than me. She lives in Connecticut. I haven't seen her in five, maybe six years. She doesn't know of my health problem."

"Maybe you should tell her."

"I think not. She has two daughters. They're at least in their twenties, maybe even thirties. Time goes by so quickly. I send them Christmas presents each year. One writes me a long thank you note; the other just a few words. That's my family. Your mother's still alive?" Kate asked.

"Yes, she is. But I don't get to see her often."

"Does she still live in New Jersey?"

"Yes."

"Maybe while you're here in D.C., you should go up there. Spend a day or two."

"I'll give it serious consideration. But you're my priority right now."

"You're sweet. Or is it because being my companion is a paying job?"

"Kate! You don't do me justice."

A little later we watched a movie, which we both pretended to enjoy. After the movie was over, Kate said she was going to get in bed and read. I asked if I could continue to watch TV if I lowered the sound. To which Kate replied that I should treat the apartment as my own.

I searched the TV offerings first for movies and then, not finding any to my liking, I entered "history" in the search field. The first ten offerings included a special, which had been prepared for the two hundredth anniversary of the battle of Antietam. The anniversary, I was reminded in the early minutes, had just passed, since the battle was fought on September 17, 1862.

My interest grew as the docudrama made me recollect the key events of the period: Union soldiers finding a copy of Lee's orders wrapped around several cigars; McClellan's initially energetic response; and later his hesitation as the battle progressed from the Union right to left. With my renewed connection to Georgia, I paid particular attention to Robert Toombs's brigade's stand against Burnside in the final stage of the battle. During the time I spent in Athens, I had noted a sign recognizing Toombs as a prominent graduate of UGA. And I had finally learned of one of his accomplishments.

Kate entered the living room as the program was coming to an end. "What are you watching?"

"A history of the battle of Antietam."

"That was a Civil War battle." Her statement was half a question.

"That's right. It took place two hundred years ago, just up the Potomac in Maryland."

"How far is it from here?"

"I'm not quite sure. Maybe a hundred kilometers." The credits were rolling across the screen.

Kate's interest in the subject had been sated. "I'm having trouble sleeping. Would you come into my room and lie next to me? It would comfort me."

My thoughts returned to her former apartment and to our junket in Vienna. I wondered whether I was about to experience exhilaration or frustration. "Sure, if you really want me to."

"I asked, didn't I?"

Kate was wearing a robe. She took it off. With only a night-light coming through the open bathroom door, I could not see what she was wearing underneath. She quickly slid beneath the covers and urged me to do the same. I stripped to my undershorts and took the opposite side of the bed.

I dared not touch Kate until she took the initiative. She made no immediate move to do so. As my eyesight became adjusted to the darkened room, I could see that she was on her back, looking up at the ceiling.

"I'm scared, James. I'm scared of being sick. I'm scared of getting old. I'm scared of being alone."

"You have me here. And I'll be here while you get your treatments and when you're cured."

"But then you'll be gone. You have your own life."

"It's really not that much of a life, especially compared with yours."

"Do you have a girlfriend in Savannah?"

"Not really."

"What does that mean?"

"That means 'no.'"

"You're a young man and good looking, James. You shouldn't act like a hermit. I suppose I shouldn't, either. You know, I haven't had a man in this bed since I became secretary. I must be intimidating. Or just old. Or ugly."

A compliment was called for. "Kate, you're still a beautiful woman. You're the most interesting and exciting woman I ever knew or could imagine knowing." Had I delivered the compliment before? It didn't matter. Kate appreciated it.

She rolled over and was now on her side, leaning against me. "I've missed you, James. You make me feel so good, and I trust you." She kissed me lightly on the lips. I returned her kiss. She opened her mouth a bit. In rapid steps the kissing became passionate.

I put my hand on her thin thigh. She was wearing an extremely lightweight nightgown. It reached only to her hips, and was now riding up higher.

A few moments later she moved my hand between her legs. It was quite clear what she wanted, and I was only too pleased to accommodate. No strenuous or lengthy effort was required on my part to satisfy her.

I started to withdraw my arm. "No, James, hold me. Hold me close to you."

Her back was now against my stomach. My nose was in her hair. A sweet, fruity smell made me bury my face beneath her long tresses. I nibbled on her neck. She purred and gyrated her hips against my groin. Her action bore some resemblance to Jacqueline's specialty, but it soon faded away.

"I'm afraid I can't do for you what you did for me." Kate was going to disappoint me, but given the status of her health, I could understand.

"I'll go back to my bedroom."

"No, you won't. We can work something out. Come with me into the bathroom."

She led me by the hand.

It was not clear what Kate had in mind. She made me face the sink. Then she put some oily substance in my right palm. Now it was clear what she expected me to do.

"I don't think I want . . ."

"Yes, you do," she interrupted. She removed her nightgown and came up behind me. She pressed her body against mine and wrapped her arms around me with one hand on my chest and the other on my abdomen. I did what was expected of me.

I spent the night in Kate's bed; the next night, too. In between, we killed Sunday over brunch and a long walk around Georgetown. Later we had a light dinner at the Chinese restaurant near Kate's apartment, but she was supposed to eat very little.

She was concerned about the operation. We tried to watch TV but couldn't. Through the evening she stretched out on the couch with my arms around her. We put on some soft music and talked. She did not want any form of sex that night, but she wanted to be held. I enveloped her thin form in my arms, and she fell asleep that way.