Whiplash

56

Christine Mary Todd had been a night owl for much of her adult life. In college, she used the early morning hours to hit the books; when her children were born, she found rising for their nightly feedings somewhat less onerous. As a governor, she’d loved to use the early morning hours to catch up on her reading — not of the newspapers and political blogs, but old-fashioned cozy mysteries, which she was famously addicted to.

But in those days, she’d always been able to grab a nap during the day. Now naps were out of the question.

Still, she stayed up late. Sometimes she had work to do, and other times she simply couldn’t sleep. Her mind refused to shut off. She would lie in bed next to her husband for an hour and sometimes more, occasionally falling asleep, but more often getting up and going down the hall to the room she’d converted into her private study. Her staff knew her habits, and when there was an important call, would try her there before deciding whether to try the bedroom.

Tonight she answered the phone on the first ring.

“This is the President.”

“Mrs. President, I’m sorry to wake you,” said Jonathon Reid. “I expected I would be connected to one of your staff people.”

“You didn’t wake me, Mr. Reid. Please explain why you called.”

“There is a situation in Ethiopia…”

The President listened as he laid it out.

“I will call the Ethiopian prime minister myself,” said Todd before he finished. “That should solve the problem, don’t you agree?”

“Absolutely.”

“Very well. Let’s see what we can do. Please stay on the line in case they need some background. I trust you can speak to them without giving away any critical secrets.”