I pulled Vickie from the umpteenth shuffling through the piles of copies of the President’s speech and dragged her out into the hallway.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, looking troubled. This time I was glad that my mouth worked independently of my brains. Otherwise I could never have uttered a sound.
“Will you marry me?” I blurted.
She looked sort of surprised for an instant, then smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”
I blinked. “You mean you will?”
She had to reach up on tiptoes to peck me swiftly on the lips. “No. Not yet. But I’ll move in with you.”
I must have looked pretty stupid. I know I felt it.
“That’s a beginning,” Vickie said. “Marriage is awfully permanent… or at least it should be. Let’s take it slow.”
With a nod, I agreed.
“Besides,” she added, with her elfin grin, “my lease is up at the end of the month.”
I didn’t let her get away with that. I grabbed her and really kissed her.
I was still grinning a half-hour later when I stood in front of the cameras and lights and all those newshawks who were quivering like a pack of hounds about to be turned loose after a fox. They never forgave me that grin, even though I’ve tried time and again to explain why they were wrong about it.
I said my piece: “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States.”
The news people gaped in unaccustomed silence as John, Jeffrey and Joshua strode into the room in perfect step.