Eggsecutive Orders

CHAPTER 26

“HOW DID IT GO?” MOM ASKED THE MOMENT I came through the door.

“Confusing.” And far too much to discuss just now.

“You still have a job?” Nana asked.

Mrs. Wentworth and Stanley were in my kitchen, looking up at me with anticipation. I said hello. “I still have a job,” I answered. “Although I don’t know how I managed it.”

Nana patted my hand as I pulled up a chair to join them. “You did good,” she said.

There were cookies in the middle of the table, and within seconds of my sitting down, my mom had poured me a cup of steaming coffee. I glanced at the clock. “It’s still morning,” I said. “I feel like I’ve been gone for days.”

“Why do you folks have all the fun?” Mrs. Wentworth asked. “Your grandma’s been here for a few days and she gets all the excitement. Just once I’d like to be involved in one of your adventures, Ollie.”

I shook my head. “Believe me, they’re not all they’re cracked up to be.”

“Did you see the morning paper?” Mom asked. She must have known I hadn’t, because she pulled it out and folded it to Liss’s column. “Read this.”

Today, Liss Is More gives credit where it is due.

I glanced up. “Oh no. Am I in it?”

“Keep reading.” Mom said with a smile.

Yesterday’s fun-filled extravaganza on the White House South Lawn-the annual Easter Egg Roll-was marred by two unhappy incidents.

“He shouldn’t be reporting this!”

“Keep reading,” Mom said again.

Not one, but two attendees were stricken by illness and had to be taken to nearby hospitals. Agent Phil Cooper suffered a massive heart attack. He is expected to make a full recovery thanks to the quick intervention of medics on the scene. Not so lucky was Ruth Minkus, widow of the recently deceased Carl Minkus. She was believed to have suffered from a ruptured aneurysm in her lung. Although she was rushed to emergency surgery, she did not survive. Our sympathies are with Joel, who has now lost both parents in little over a week.

In the middle of it all, once again, was White House Chef Olivia Paras, who appropriately gets in more hot water than a tea bag. (This reporter made several attempts to reach Ms. Paras for comments, only to be rebuffed.) This time, however, she is credited with alerting paramedics and is to be thanked for her presence of mind as well as her heretofore unknown ability to triage.

“I can’t believe this.”

Nana chuckled. “You shouldn’t. Most of it isn’t true. Except for the part where you should be thanked.”

My family and neighbors knew part of the truth, though not all of it. They didn’t know about Minkus’s treason. They knew Ruth killed her husband, but they didn’t know why. They didn’t know Kap was an undercover spy-although I believed my mother suspected as much. All they knew, and cared about, was that we were all safe, here, and in one piece. And I still had my job at the White House.

I turned my attention back to Liss’s article.

It is too bad that Mrs. Minkus died before the medical examiner released his findings. She would have discovered that husband died of natural causes after all. Unfortunately, she went to her grave believing someone had murdered him. I am sad for her, but even more so for Joel Minkus-this week has been the worst of nightmares.

And today I announce my vacation. An extended vacation. Effective immediately, I am suspending this column. Indefinitely. This week has been too much. Even for a crusty old newsman like me. As they say, Liss Is More, but sometimes less Liss is better. At least for the moment.

Carry on.

“Wow.” That was about the only thing I could say.

“Yeah,” Mom said, folding the paper neatly. “I’m keeping this.”

“What for?”

Nana slapped my hand playfully. “Souvenir, what else?”

The phone rang while Mrs. Wentworth and Stan were still at my kitchen table. It was Suzie and Steve calling, this time with happy news. Apparently the FBI had cleared them, just as the Bureau had cleared Bucky. They were grateful to me for the reprieve, despite the fact I insisted I had nothing to do with it.

Later that afternoon, I offered to take Mom and Nana anywhere they wanted to go, but they insisted I relax. “Too much excitement,” they said. “You need a break.”

I had just dozed off on the couch with my family reading and watching TV next to me, when the apartment phone rang. I rose to answer it and sucked in a breath when I saw the Caller ID-“ 202.”

This was exactly how this whole ordeal had started a week ago.

My heart pounded, but I answered.

It was Marguerite Schumacher.

Mom and Nana stopped what they were doing to watch me. I listened to Marguerite, answered in the affirmative several times, and with a great sigh, hung up.

“What was that about?” Nana asked.

Mom had gotten to her feet. “Is everything okay?”

For the first time in days, my heart was light. “Remember that White House tour I promised you?” I asked.

They nodded.

“We’re on tomorrow at noon.”

I watched relief flood their faces.

“Oh, and wear something nice,” I added.

They both looked at me in puzzlement. “Why?”

“The president and his wife,” I said, “have invited us to lunch.”