“Oh, I can give it to you, honey, but it ain’t gonna do you much good,” said the southern woman on the phone. “The Speaker isn’t the Speaker anymore, sweety.”
“But I’m not looking to talk to President Nielson,” she said. “It’s Sandy Woodruff that I want to talk to.”
“Well, she’s with him, of course.”
“But somebody in their old office can get a message to her.”
“By smoke signal maybe, but here’s the number, I was looking it up the whole time I was talking to you, in case you thought I wasn’t.”
“Since when do you have to look up the number of the Speaker of the House?”
“My Congressman is in the other party, sweety. We don’t call the Speaker much.”
“You should have,” said Cecily, imitating her southern drawl. “He’s always been such a dear.”
The woman laughed heartily. “Well, you’re a caution. Good luck on getting your call returned.”
Cecily got through to the Speaker’s office. It was answered by a flustered aide—or perhaps an intern. Somebody who was not deemed important enough to take along to the White House.
“Sandy isn’t available,” said the kid. “But I’d be glad to take a message.”
“Cecily Malich,” said Cecily. “Only when Sandy knew me I was Cessy Grmek. I will definitely have to spell that for you.”
“Oh, no need,” said the kid. Definitely an intern.
“That means you aren’t writing it down, because I assure you,
you cannot spell it.”
A faint sigh. A scruffing among papers. Finally: “All right, I have a pencil.”
“Cessy. C-E-S-S-Y. Grmek. G-R-M-E-K. Can you say it back to me?”
“Did you leave something out? What I have here looks like a bad Scrabble turn.”
“Say ‘Grrrr’ like a bear. And then ‘mek’ rhymes with ‘check.’ ”
The girl said it twice.
It had the desired effect. She could hear Sandy’s voice in the background. “Cessy Grmek? I thought she was dead or got married.” In a moment, Sandy was on the line. “What are you bothering us for, you office-seeking hanger-on?”
“I saw LaMonte on TV,” said Cessy. “I think he’s handling himself splendidly.”
“Of course he is. I tell him every word to say.”
“Listen, Sandy, my call is selfish, but I don’t want a job.”
“Too bad. Just the other day he said, ‘Whatever happened to that girl with no vowels? How can this office run without her?’ ”
“He did not.”
“But he would have, if I’d remembered to tell him to say it. Get on with your request, my dear. Remember that the President of the United States is not the Wizard of Oz. Chances are very good that you will not get your wish.”
“I did get married, Sandy. And my husband is Major Reuben Malich.”
It took a beat for Sandy to realize why she knew that name. “You’re saying you’re married to the Hero of the Tidal Basin?”
“The hero who is getting set up to take the fall for the assassination plot.”