Third Time's the Charm - Cover

Third Time's the Charm

Copyright© 2014 by Old Man with a Pen

Chapter 12

What is it about presidents? A suggestion is as good as a command? When the triple black Suburbans ... that's black car, black windows, and black suits ... squealed their tires on the gravel drive as they were leaving, I knew Grace was going to be hearing from evil men.

I hate it when I'm right ... Lyndon called.

"Sir?"

"Sir." Grace was getting frustrated.

How can I tell? Regardless of last names, she's my twin sister ... besides being married to her ... she ranks me.

"Not only No but Fuck NO!"

"Lyndon..."

"Lyndon..."

"I will not, at this juncture in my life, seek political office."

"Lyndon? You're about to become, Mister President, Lyndon..."

"I will not accept an appointment, unless..."

"You won't like it..."

"Alright, alright, alright already. I'll accept an appointment as ambassador..."

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Lyndon ... three choices ... Nevis and Saint Christopher..."

"No Lyndon ... Nevis and Saint Christopher is one choice, not two ... it's an island nation south of Puerto Rico."

"Samoa, or New Zealand."

"No Lyndon, not American Samoa ... Samoa. It's close to our Samoa but they're different."

"I don't know why it's not ours ... no ... wait ... I do know. Samoa was part of New Zealand..."

"No Lyndon, New Zealand is not part of Australia."

"Lyndon? I know most ambassadors operate on their own money ... you have to pay us..."

"Hell, say ... half what you make ... and the US pays for entertainment."

"Hell yes, Lyndon ... Ambassadors throw parties all the time ... big expensive gala affairs ... lots of money, imported booze, Russian caviar ... it will cost about two maybe three million a year just for my clothes."

"Lyndon, I cannot be seen in the same dress twice. It's just not done."

"Ask Lady Bird."

Since Grace was holding the phone to her ear and tapping her foot, it was reasonable for me to assume that Lyndon was, indeed, asking Lady Bird. Confirmation came when she started to speak to me.

"I swear, David. That man will not take no for an answer."

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"He put me on hold while he asks Lady Bird about fashions."

"What?"

"The idiot has no idea what it costs to entertain." Grace was looking ... uhm ... yeah. Then she was faintly blushing.

"I was talking to my husband."

She gave a little duck and shrug ... a I can't believe how stupid you are move. "Of course I'm married."

"No ... he goes too."

"Good bye, Lyndon."

She turned to me, "David, he had no idea we were married. I'll bet he doesn't know his ambassadors are married." She sighed, "If ambassadors weren't married, the world would be worse than it is. Men have PRIDE and argue ... women step in and Do."

So ... I did. I watched the next time Grace organized a party ... Friday.

Friday, Hineahuone had invited her class of fledgling pilots to celebrate solo day. There were six women and three males. Those who had one brought their significant other. After a very few minutes it was evident that Hineahuone considered me as her 'other'.

Six women brought five males and one female, three males brought three females. Hineahuone brought me and I brought Grace. The two instructors were husband and wife. In the way that mixed parties do ... the men headed for the beer and the women headed for the kitchen. Being male ... in my third incarnation and fourth life, I already knew what the men were going to do. Swill, watch whatever a quorum decided to watch and argue about it. I thought it might be educational to see what the women did. So...

When I approached the kitchen door, I could hear the rattle and buzz of gossip and cooking, refrigerator door opened and closed, drawers were pulled and silver tinkled ... I know the silver was clean ... but water was being run and I heard the clatter of knives, forks and spoons being immersed.

From my side, the outside, the door was a barrier to the action, I opened it ... instant silence ... thirteen women turned to look at me.

"Do you need something?" Grace asked.

"No," I replied.

The look was long and uncomfortable. I panicked before she did, "A glass of water," I mumbled. Before I could fetch, one was drawn, delivered to me and handed with a look of impatience. A lesser man would have fled ... I maneuvered my way to the kitchen table and sat in the farthest chair. Surely I would be out of the way.

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