Chapter 6

Just as I started to dial I heard a voice out in my hospital room. It was Constance Ames.

"Kevin? It's Constance from the President's office. No hurry. When you come out I will still be here with good news."

Carefully I washed my hair and face, then dried and went out to see Constance.

"Hey," I said seeing her patiently waiting in the recliner chair.

"Hey, yourself," she said, laughing.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. I felt hot and sweaty and needed to freshen up."

Her expression was one of indulgence. She was determined to indulge me for some reason. "I have a message for you. The President has authorized you to receive a one-time cash settlement of the equivalent of your earnings for the next thirty-nine years, when you would turn fifty-five, in addition to the salary and benefits we discussed yesterday. That means I have the deposit slip from an automatic deposit into your checking account of twelve million, eight hundred and forty-eight thousand and four dollars. It cleared into your account this morning." She was all smiles, and I let my face show utter astonishment. "This money, as well as your salary is free of income tax, and any other withholding, due to it being payment as a result of injuries received.

"Since your recovery is going to take a while, and because the President feels a great debt of gratitude is owed you, we talked to your Doctor and he says its fine for you to meet the President in the Oval Office and receive your medal right away.

"Our staff will arrange a special car to pick you up at eleven o'clock tomorrow morning to bring you to the White House for an eleven thirty meeting. It will take about fifteen minutes, and we will have you back here well before your consultation with the head injury specialist at three.

"How do you feel about that, Kevin? Is it good timing, or too much for you to handle?" Her smile was distracting me, and I think I would have agreed to a donating my heart and both lungs without knowing what I had done.

"That is wonderful, Miss Ames. I appreciate it very much even though I am still in shock."

Her expression slipped when I said, 'Miss Ames.' I do not believe she was prepared to be addressed so formally, and it gave me back a little of the momentum.

"Why don't we dispense with the Miss Ames thing, and have you call me Constance, Ok?" Her smile was back in place, but I had better control of myself, so it was a draw. She gave me instructions and kissed my cheek once again before leaving.

The rest of the day slipped by without much worth commenting upon, other than the fact that Carole came back on duty and slid into bed beside me, so we could 'chat like old friends.' Her body was soft in all the right ways, round in just the right places, and her scent was sweet and alluring.

Somehow we were going to do it, and we both knew it. It was just a matter of timing, and that was about to resolve itself, too.

"The doctor wants to release you soon, but not unless you have home nursing care. I understand you are doing fine, except for the pain management thing. My bosses want me to come look after you when you go home, for as long as it takes. How do you feel about that?"

I contemplated her and I alone in a bedroom, with no risk of anyone walking in and interrupting us, and said, "That would be perfect." her smile was all the reassurance I needed.

We chatted lying close together until I fell asleep, and she snuck out to go home. When I woke up I was terribly lonely.

In the morning Doctor Phaisal came in full of energy, determined to get me up and going. His examination was quick and painless, and he reminded me that the specialist would be in to see me sometime after three P.M.

When he was done, I showered, shaved, and dressed in a suit that was bought for me by Constance. She sent it over so I would have it when the guys from the White House came to pick me up.

The suit was fabulous. Other than the bandages that were much less bulky than before, I looked like a million bucks. Walking to the side entrance was way too far for my current state of recovery, so I gratefully accepted a ride in the wheelchair they brought in with them.

The White House sent a large, comfortable bus for me. It was nearer an RV than a bus, but worked perfectly for my need. I could stretch out if I needed to lie flat, or I could sit in the plush recliner that was provided, and which gave me a great view of the scenery.

It took less than ten minutes to traverse the distance from the hospital to the back door at the White House, and the ramps were such that I walked straight out the front door, without the four steps up from the sidewalk. They did a very good job making it easy for me to see the President.

The Secret Service stopped us and ran a wand over me to make sure I wasn't hiding any weapons, and then I was wheeled in to the Oval Office.

My helpers locked the wheels so I could move from the wheel chair to the sofa, and I was left alone to await President Dryden. Rather than nose around like a tourist, and because this used to be my office, I sat patiently, without curiosity, and waited.

When the door opened, it wasn't the President.

"Hey, Kevin!" Constance gave me her mega-watt smile.

"Hi," I said softly. No sense acting like a gawky teenager.

"How do you like visiting the White House?" She was thrilled to have me visit her boss at work, so I needed to play along.

Whipping out my camera phone, I said, "They let me bring my camera in with me, so I'm hoping for a photo with the President."

She gave me the look.

'Uh-oh, ' I thought. 'I've stepped in it this time.'

She smiled and sat beside me. "Kevin. When President Dryden heard you say that you hoped to have a photo of the two of you together, it was a done deal. We have two photographers waiting outside to photograph the President and you when he hangs the medal around your neck, and there will be more outside when he introduces you to the press, and announces your award.

"We'll have hundreds of photographs for your scrapbook before you leave here." She smiled again. It must have been contagious, because I felt myself smiling right along with her.

The door swung open and this time Samantha walked in, looking like every man's wet dream. Mr. Johnson certainly recognized her, and expected her to properly greet him. I knew my clothes were certainly too tight when I looked at her all put together, and serving the President.

"Kevin. It is a pleasure to meet the young man who nearly saved the President. Thank you for your bravery. His death hit us all very hard." I suspected that was particularly true for her, after our brief, but intense affair. "The President will be along shortly to speak with you prior to the ceremony and I will be back to brief you on how it will go." She hopped up, dismissed me with the briefest of waves, and was gone.

Constance gave me the look, and said, "I know. Something tells me that working in the White House has gone to little miss press secretary's head." I didn't say a word, but thanked God that she broke it off with me when I became Vice President.