Eggsecutive Orders

“I’ll get it,” I said, and wasn’t surprised to see Mrs. Wentworth.

She held today’s newspaper aloft, her arthritic right hand clamped around its edge, her other hand gripping her cane. “How come you’re still here?”

I was about to ask what she meant when she pulled her cane up and used it to move me out of the way. “Looks like your friend Liss scooped everybody this time.”

Before I could stop her, she’d tottered into the kitchen. “Good morning, ladies,” she said. Then, catching sight of the newspaper on the table, she turned to me with a glare of impatience. “How come you didn’t tell me you already saw it?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “Liss? No way we’re reading him anymore. The lies he prints-”

She made an impatient face. “The guy is good.” Waving away my protestations to the contrary, she said, “Yes, yes, I know what he’s been saying lately. And I know he’s been taking pokes at you. But if you don’t look at his conjecture-if you just look at his facts-he’s been pretty damned accurate so far.”

“Accurate?” I started to protest. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, you better hope he is this time.”

She splayed the newspaper out before us. Standing back, she smiled at us expectantly. “Nice to be the bearer of good news for once,” she said.

Curiosity got the better of me, as it usually does, and I leaned forward. I sca

And You Read It Here First

We join the White House in saying, “Welcome back!”

Liss Is More has learned that the White House kitchen staff has been officially cleared of suspicion in Carl Minkus’s unexpected death. Word is that the staff will be notified shortly and will be expected to return to work immediately. Liss Is More also has it on good authority that the president and First Lady have had their fill of food prepared by well-intentioned but ill-trained Secret Service perso

Side note to Ollie: See? You can stop blaming me for the cloud of suspicion that hung over your head. I just report the facts. I don’t invent them.

“ ‘My good friend’?” I asked, fuming. “How does he come up with this stuff?”

Mrs. Wentworth tapped the words. “It sells papers, kiddo.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll cancel my delivery.” As angry as I was at Liss in general, I was mostly furious at his assertion that my staff and I had been welcomed back to the White House. “Accurate? I don’t think so. If he were accurate, wouldn’t I have heard from our chief usher by now?”

At that moment, a phone rang. The sound was faint and the tune wasn’t the one I used for my cell phone, but I instinctively turned toward the little device and picked it up. “Not me,” I said.

My mom got a split-second quizzical look on her face, then jumped up. “That’s mine,” she said, clearly surprised. “I don’t get many phone calls, so I didn’t…”

We missed the rest of her words as she turned into the bedroom. We heard soft scuffling sounds, then the tune ended and my mom said, “Hello.”

Two seconds later, she shut the bedroom door.

“A gentleman caller?” Mrs. Wentworth asked.

Nana snorted. “And I think I know exactly who that gentleman caller is.”

“Kap,” I said. I had forgotten about their “date” today.

“Now don’t get all worked up, honey,” Nana said, patting my arm like I was a four-year-old. “Your mom is allowed a little bit of fun while she’s out here.”

Her words hit their mark. I had wanted to make this trip the best Mom and Nana had experienced. I’d wanted to make them love Washington, D.C., as much as I did-by showing them the White House from the inside. By letting them walk the halls-not like tourists, but like insiders. Instead, the vacation had been sliced to ribbons by Minkus’s untimely death, and my obsession with getting back into the kitchen.

I had to face facts: The only real highlight this entire trip for my mom was her flirtation with Kap. In less than a week, Mom and Nana would be back in Chicago and Kap would still be here. Why was I behaving like an overprotective mother, trying to thwart my mom’s happiness? If she wanted to spend time with a man her age, a man who was clearly interested in her, then why shouldn’t she?

I argued both sides in my mind even as Nana and Mrs. Wentworth carried on a separate conversation. I had just about convinced myself that Kap’s phone call was a good thing for my mom’s ego when she emerged from the bedroom, her face flushed.

“Mom,” she said to Nana in a voice that held slight urgency, “you won’t mind if I take some time this afternoon, will you?” Almost as an afterthought, she turned to me. “You don’t mind either, right?”

Nana spoke before I could. “ ‘Course not, Cori

Mrs. Wentworth asked the question. “Kap taking you out?”

In that instance, I felt a resurgence of fear. All the arguing I’d done with myself went out the window. There was something not right about Kap. I sensed he was not all he appeared to be, and if there was one thing I knew, it was to trust my gut. I couldn’t let my mother go out with him. Not alone. It was all too convenient that he’d popped into our lives just at this time. What was he really after?

“Yes,” Mom said. “He and I are going to di

“I thought we were all going to do that today,” I said, petulance creeping into my voice. “I thought we were all going to go together.”

Mom smiled. “I know how busy you are, Ollie…”

“Why isn’t he at the funeral?” I asked. “Shouldn’t he be with the family today?”

“I asked him that, actually.”

“And?”

“He said that Ruth and Joel preferred to keep the interment private. Family only.”

A teensy bit of spite from me. “I thought he was as close as family.”

Mom gave me a chastising glare.

“Hey,” I said. “Why don’t we go with you? Nana and I.” I turned. “And you, too, Mrs. Wentworth, if you want.”

Mom’s eyes widened.

“I’m not up for that today,” Nana said. “In fact, I think it might be just a little too cool outside for these old bones. Thanks anyway, honey.”

Mrs. Wentworth pierced me with a shrewd look that, in one second both berated me and mocked my attempt. “Sorry, dear. Stanley ’s coming by later. We have plans.”

The idea of my tagging along with Mom and Kap by myself was unappealing, to say the least.

The phone rang-my house phone this time-preventing me from making that suggestion. “Hang on,” I said, reaching for the receiver. “Before you give him an answer-”

“I’m going with him, Ollie.” Mom said. “I already told him he can pick me up at two.”

A thousand thoughts flew through my brain as I picked up the phone without checking Caller ID. “Hello?”

“Ollie, it’s Paul.”

Like a rerun of Monday morning, our chief usher was calling me at home-what could have happened now?

“Yes?” I said dumbly.

“I take it you’ve seen the Liss article?”

“Just a minute ago.”

Paul sounded angry and resigned at the same time. “I don’t know who leaked the story to him. It’s a pretty sad day when our staff learns that they’re back to work through the newspaper rather than through official cha

My mom’s plight momentarily forgotten, I caught hold of what he was saying. “We’re back? We can come back?”

“Right away. The sooner the better.”

Relief washed over me, rinsing away the crustiness of fear. “Thank you so much, Paul.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said. “The president and First Lady moved mountains to get the medical examiner to rush his decision. It’s because they want to get to the bottom of this mess, of course.”