“Hey, I’m just saying. Vince has gotten his head bitten off about five times today, and whenever we ask Curly why he’s so ornery, he just gives us more work to do. He keeps checking on us, too. Like every fifteen minutes, he’s there again. You shouldn’t have started all this. You have no idea what you’re doing. And now he’s worse than usual. But at least now I know what’s behind it.”

“What’s so bad about me asking?”

In even more of a hurry to get away now, Manny shrugged one shoulder and shifted toward the door. “I dunno. Maybe Curly thinks you’re trying to show him up. Maybe he’s worried you’ll cost him the chief electrician position.”

“Don’t be silly.” I could tell Manny was ready to bolt, so I pressed my point, explaining again what Stanley had explained to me. “Is there any way you can check to see if Gene’s accident was due to a floating neutral?”

He shook his head even before I finished making my request. “Let it go.”

“But I don’t believe Gene would’ve made an electrical mistake.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he said.

“Just check, please?”

“No way. It’s not a neutral. I guarantee it. And even if I could check on it, I wouldn’t want to mess with this one. Not with Curly around. If it were up to me,” Manny said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “I’d kick his sorry butt out of here. The guy’s got too much on his mind with the sick wife and all. And now he’s so worried I’m going to make a mistake, or that Vince is, that he’s not letting us do our jobs. That guy should get canned before he does more damage. Seriously.”

WHEN THE KITCHEN PHONE RANG AT SEVEN-FIFTEEN that evening, I was surprised to see the in-house ID indicate it was the First Lady calling.

“Hello, Ollie,” she said. “I’m glad it’s you who answered. Are you very busy?”

A visit from Gavin-who pilfered Bucky and Cyan for half the afternoon-had set us even further behind than we’d been. We had all hoped to leave by eight tonight, but from the looks of things now, we wouldn’t get out until after ten.

“Not at all,” I said. “What can I do for you?”

“My husband and I are expecting a guest this evening. I inquired and found that he hasn’t eaten yet. In fact, neither have we.”

That surprised me. I said so.

“Yes, I know,” the First Lady continued, her voice just above a sigh. “We had planned to, but I don’t find myself with much appetite today.”

With everything that was swirling around in their lives-the president’s high-level meetings, Sean’s death, Gene’s death-I couldn’t imagine eating either. “I understand.”

“I knew you would, Ollie. That’s why I have a particular favor to ask. Would you be willing to prepare something for us and for our guest this evening?”

“Of course,” I said. I was about to ask a question when she interrupted.

“There’s one other thing. Could you take care of all this up here? In the family kitchen? I’d prefer to keep it informal. I don’t want any other… anyone else… present. Would you be willing to do that?”

“I’d be glad to,” I said. “Can you tell me who the guest is, so I can look up his dietary requirements?”

“Yes, of course. Senator Blanchard will be joining us this evening. He and I have much to discuss.” She paused for a moment and I sensed it best to give her time to collect her thoughts rather than rush off the phone. “We have a lot to talk about that”-she hesitated before saying his name-“that matter Sean advised me on. You have been privy to information of which the rest of the staff is unaware. I would prefer to keep it that way. Just a limited contingent tonight. Dinner doesn’t need to be elaborate. Do we have any leftovers you can use?”

In my mind, I’d already begun pulling together a menu. “How soon would you like to sit down?”

“Whatever works best for you. Just come up as soon as you can; the kitchen will be yours alone. After a day like today, I’d like to relax and not stand on ceremony for once.”

WE KEPT SO MUCH ON HAND IN THE WHITE House kitchen that the First Lady’s request made for no difficulty whatsoever. After assigning Bucky to take over holiday preparations-and it seemed there was no end to them in sight-I gathered ingredients, utensils, and assorted necessities onto one of our butler’s carts and made my way up to the second floor.

The kitchen here was cozy-flowered wallpaper and warm-wood cabinets similar to those found in middle-class homes across the country. Although there would have been enough room for two of us to work comfortably together, I was content to handle this dinner for three myself. More important, that’s what the First Lady had requested.

Dinner was to be served in the adjacent dining room. Occasionally referred to as the family’s private dining room, it was often confused by non-White House personnel with the Family Dining Room on the first floor, or with the President’s Dining Room in the West Wing. But we staffers knew the difference. This room, formerly known as the Prince of Wales Room, due to the fact that the Prince of Wales slept there during James Buchanan’s presidency-before it was outfitted as a kitchen-became the First Family’s private dining room under Jacqueline Kennedy’s direction.

I’d just started breading the chicken breasts I’d pounded the heck out of earlier when Mrs. Campbell knocked at the doorjamb.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she said.

“Not at all. I’m hoping to be ready to serve at eight-thirty. Will that be all right?”

She nodded, and wandered into the kitchen. “I asked the butlers to set places for three, but now I understand that Treyton may bring Bindy along. Would it be too much inconvenience to prepare dinner for four, in the event she does show up?”

I’d brought extras up with me. One doesn’t get to be a top chef without preparing for such exigencies. “Not a problem,” I said.

Mrs. Campbell began opening cabinets. “Can you believe I haven’t yet figured out where everything is in here?” She gave a sad laugh. “I’m getting too used to having people wait on me all the time. I don’t think I like that.”

“Enjoy it,” I said. “We’re happy to be here.”

She had her back to me, two side-by-side cabinets open. “I’m glad you’re here, Ollie. I trust you.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, but Mrs. Campbell wasn’t finished.

“My husband and I don’t believe Sean took his own life. His mother doesn’t believe it either.”

I hadn’t expected her to talk about Sean, but I covered my surprise as best I could. She turned to me, tears swimming in her eyes. “You knew him, too. Maybe you saw something we didn’t see? Do you think it’s possible that… that he-”

“No,” I said quickly. “I don’t.”

She graced me with a sad smile. “Thank you.”

Although I was often sorry for speaking out of turn, this time I really couldn’t help myself. “If I may say so…”

Mrs. Campbell inclined her head. “What’s on your mind?”

“I just want to tell you how much I admire your composure.” I groaned inwardly. Composure? There had to be a better word. That wasn’t what I meant and it was coming out all wrong. “Dignity, I mean. I admire the way you handle everything. What I mean to say is, Sean’s death has been so hard on you. On everyone…”

She flinched at Sean’s name, but her eyes urged me to continue.

“I can’t imagine how hard it must have been to entertain all those women yesterday. And yet you’re still always…” I was trying hard to get my point across without babbling. Failing miserably. Summing up, I said, “You truly are the epitome of grace under pressure.”

Another sad smile. “When my husband agreed to serve our country by taking on the presidency, we knew we would be held to a higher standard than we had been as civilians. As First Lady, my actions have a ripple effect across the country.” She seemed to be speaking to herself. “It’s frightening in some ways, empowering in others. I realize the effect my actions have, and try to comport myself in a way that deserves emulation, no matter how hard the circumstances.” She squinted at me. “I see a lot of that trait in you, too, Ollie. We have a core”-she pulled both fists in, toward the center of her body-“that holds us steady even when the rest of the world is falling apart. You have the same strength you claim to admire in me. I just pray you never have reason to call upon it the same way I’ve found myself doing these past few days.”