103
JOINT BASE ANACOSTIA-BOLLING
Marjorie Ryker was cleaning up after dinner when her cell phone rang.
Drying her hands, she put on her glasses and checked the caller ID. When she saw the call was coming from Louisa Garcia, she answered it immediately.
“I had to call, Marj,” Mrs. Garcia said. “Javier and I have been seeing so much about Marcus in the news, and we can’t imagine all you’ve been going through. It’s so terrible what they’ve been saying about him.”
“It has been pretty rough, but don’t believe everything you hear.”
“No, no, of course not. And obviously Marcus has been exonerated and all. But still, the media is atrocious. I’ve rarely seen Javier so mad. He keeps throwing things at the television. As though that’ll fix anything. So how are you holding up? I heard you’d left town for a bit?”
Marjorie tensed a bit at this. Marcus had told her not to tell anyone why she was living in Washington for a while. But she wasn’t used to concealing the truth from friends, especially old friends like the Garcias, especially since she was so grateful for the reconciliation slowly unfolding between them. So she ignored the question and turned the conversation to how the Garcia girls were doing.
About ten minutes into the conversation, Mrs. Garcia caught her completely off guard.
“Javier’s law firm got him tickets to the papal Mass two weeks from now in Chicago as a birthday present since he’s the oldest partner on the payroll. And they’re great seats. The firm represents United Airlines, so the seats are in the United skybox. It’ll be air-conditioned, and we’ll have an amazing view. The girls have a birthday sleepover party that weekend they don’t want to miss. So we have two extra tickets. I know you’re not Catholic. But Javier and I thought you still might find it interesting, and we’d love for you to come as our guest. You could bring a friend. Maybe Maya Emerson. We’d even like to cover your flights and hotel. We could make a long weekend of it. What do you say?”
“Oh, Louisa, I don’t know what to say. That’s too much. Too kind. I couldn’t possibly say yes.”
“No, no, you must. We loved having you over for dinner and catching up after far too long. This is going to be a once-in-a-lifetime event. And it would really be our honor to have you come.”
“Really? You’re serious.”
“Absolutely. Please. We insist. Unless, of course, you have something else going on.”
“Not at all. Just babysitting the grands. But as much as I love that, I could always use a little weekend away, right?”
Mrs. Garcia laughed. So did Marjorie.
“Well, I’m touched. Please tell Javier I accept. Thank you.”
“That’s wonderful, Marj. He’ll be thrilled, as am I. Would you like to bring someone—Maya or someone else?”
“Yes, I think Maya would love to come. I can call her right now.”
“Perfect. Let me know, and then I’ll book your flights. Javier and I will be arriving on Thursday. We thought it would be fun to, you know, explore Chicago a bit before the big day. We’ve already booked a suite at the Four Seasons, and we’ve held an adjoining room, just in case, since rooms are going very fast in Chicago.”
“I bet they are. I saw on the news they’re expecting one hundred thousand people or more.”
“It’s going to be quite something.”
“Well, thanks again for inviting me.”
The moment they hung up, Marjorie called Maya, who was as stunned and delighted as Marjorie. And Maya was no Catholic either. She was true-blue Southern Baptist. Her husband had even been a Baptist pastor. But the truth was their theological differences with the pope didn’t even occur to them. Both women saw the invitation as an answer to many years of prayer for healing between the Ryker and Garcia families, and they were grateful not only to be able to accept but to be able to go together.
By the time Marjorie put her head on the pillow that night, read the Scriptures, prayed, and turned out the lights, all the details were set. The trip was booked. She was going to Chicago.