The ballroom shook with laughter as Charlotte took on every last stereotype and caricature of herself. Some of her harshest critics were wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. Dale laughed and clapped enthusiastically, even though all she could think about was the fact that Peter was sitting twenty feet away from her pretending to be in love with his wife. She hated that this was the last time she’d see him before leaving for Afghanistan.
She excused herself as soon as Charlotte’s remarks ended and made her way to the motorcade while the comedian was making a crack about Charlotte and Roger ruling the world together. Dale slid into the van that would take them the twenty blocks to the White House as soon as the comedian was finished. She read and responded to the e-mails that had come in since she’d been at the dinner. She smiled as an e-mail from Peter appeared at the top of her messages: “Be safe, and enjoy the experience. I’ll be waiting for you.”
She exhaled deeply for the first time all night and wrote back immediately: “I promise to be safe and come home to you in one piece. I love and miss you, xxoo. Hey, BTW, Charlotte was hilarious tonight.”
Dale looked up, and they were moving.
The motorcade sped back to the White House. Charlotte and Peter got out of the limo at the front of the motorcade and walked into the residence. Press aides came back and told the reporters in the van that they had a “full lid,” meaning that the president was in for the night, and they were free to go. Dale was supposed to walk back into the briefing room and wait for the press secretary to retrieve her and put her and the wire reporters into an unmarked van for the secret ride to Andrews Air Force Base.
She sat in one of the theater chairs and took her shoes off. “G’night,” she said to one of the other reporters who had taken the ride back with them.
“Wanna get a drink?” he asked Dale.
“No, I’ve got to file a script for my package for the morning show,” she lied.
“Oh, shit, that sucks. I’ll have a drink for you,” he said.
“Thanks,” Dale said.
She was alone in the briefing room. The other reporters traveling to Afghanistan had gone outside for a cigarette.
One of the agents stuck his head in and called her name. She jumped up from the seat and hurried toward him. “Wait here,” he said. Dale stood in the cool night air alone and wondered if she should grab the others.
“The president asked us to put you in the car with her, Miss Smith,” the agent said.
“Are all the reporters traveling with her?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. They’ll be in the van back there.” He pointed at a white van a few feet behind the SUV. The agent walked over to the black SUV and opened the passenger door. “You can sit on this side. The president will be down in a couple of minutes.”
Dale struggled into the SUV in her evening gown. She was carrying a change of clothes, but the press staff had forbidden them from changing out of their formal attire. Dale sat in the car and waited. Her mind was racing. She wanted desperately to e-mail Peter, but she was suddenly paranoid that someone was watching her every move. She had a feeling that this was it, the moment that Charlotte would confront her for having an affair with her husband. She felt slightly nauseated but not as terrified as she thought she’d feel.
What can she do to me? Dale wondered.
She wished she’d talked to her parents earlier in the day. She didn’t want to lie to them about the trip, so she had avoided her mother’s call. Better that they find out I went to Afghanistan after I’m back home safely, she’d decided. Dale’s mind was spinning from one anxious thought to the next. She tried to take deep breaths.
Suddenly, an announcement from the car’s radio system jolted her back to the moment. “Wayfarer departing residence. Wayfarer arriving Diplomatic Room.”
The agent started the car’s engine.