Chapter 27: Dinner with Friends Old and New

Molly came scurrying back to my desk the following Monday. She said I had an important phone call waiting for me. I picked up the handset and answered “Hello.”

“Please hold for the President,” an official-sounding voice came through the phone.

A few seconds passed, and I heard the President’s greeting. We made the usual small talk, and he complimented me, saying that I had impressed more than a few of the Cabinet members. I thanked him for his generous praise and said that I felt out of my environment that day. He responded that I did very well for being out of my environment, as I had called it.

The President revealed why he had called after his initial greeting. He said, “I would like you and your staff to go to London, Dr. Mercer. We need help with the treaty negotiations. I’m not sure how long you will need to be there. I suspect that it will be for at least a year, if not longer.”

I didn’t know how to respond to his request. I immediately thought of Karen and the upcoming birth of our twins, and I wasn’t even sure if any of my people would want to go. I started worrying about who I would have to replace.

“Just so you understand the sincerity of my request, Dr. Mercer, the government will pay for your moving. In addition, we will cover housing costs,” the President added. “Call my chief of staff with your decision as soon as possible. I am looking forward to seeing you as part of the ‘team’.”

The President ended the call, and I held a dead phone to my ear. This was something I wasn’t expecting. I believed that I would lose at least half of the team. I figured Randy, Scotty, and Jean would stay behind as well as Molly. I thought that maybe even Andi would resign. I assumed it would be just Johann Frisch and me In the end.

I was fortunate that everyone was in the office. I asked that everyone join me in the conference room. There was an announcement that would affect everyone. I announced the President’s request after waiting for everyone to get their morning coffee. Everyone was as surprised as I had been at the President’s request. I informed the assembled staff that anyone who wanted to remain behind would get a job recommendation from me. I asked for a show of hands for those who planned to move to the UK with the office. I was surprised and humbled at the same time. Every one held their hands up. My eyes may have misted over with the show of support. I had to use a tissue.

I looked over at Molly and asked her about her budding romance with the FBI agent. She smiled and said it was in the bag; he had popped the question the night before, and she had said yes. None of the people I knew in Washington, DC, believed in long engagements, I thought. She was sure he could get a position with the FBI UK satellite office with my help, of course.

Randy said he and Olive were family; where I went, they went with me. Jean commented that Karen has asked her to be our twins’ godmother. She was damn sure that she would be there for the twins. Johann gave me the thumbs up and stage whispered ‘007’, causing me to laugh. That was everyone except for Andi. I and the others looked over at her in anticipation.

“Why are you all looking at me?” she asked. “Someone has to keep you uncultured colonials in line.”

We all laughed at her retort, and I opened the conference room door so we all could get back to our jobs.

I immediately called home to talk to Karen. Grandma answered the phone, and I asked her to put Karen on the phone; it was important. A few minutes passed, and I was about to hang up and call later when she finally answered. She greeted me, telling me that she was with a decorator who was going to give us an estimate on a nursery. I asked Karen to cancel those plans, and she became a rather angry Viking Princess before I could give her the reason why.

She started in, and I let her rant on until she was out of breath. I then told her we would be moving to England. She squealed in surprise, and then the questions started. What about her house? Who would take care of it while we were gone? She wanted to know. What were we to do about Grandma? It would kill her if we left her behind, and on and on and on. I just sat there amused at her ranting. I informed her that we would discuss it when I came home when she finally ran out of steam,. I ended the call and went to get a soft drink. I had to have something to renew my energy levels after that call. A phone call to Karen like that was an energy drainer.

I walked back to the office fridge where we kept a supply of soft drinks and snacks. Randy was standing there drinking a cola. He looked at me and said,”What’s with the Jorgenson women? Do they all fly off the handle when you give them exciting news?”

Olive’s reaction about the move to the UK was nearly the same as Karen’s. We laughed at their mutual response.

He said,”I don’t think England is ready for the Jorgenson women. The natives didn’t do well when they invaded during the dark ages. The Vikings were rough on the Brits.”We both chuckled at his comment before he went back to his cubicle.

I went back to my cubicle after finishing my drink to call James Baker, the President’s Chief of Staff. I looked up his number in the official interoffice phonebook provided to me when I started several months ago. I called and expected it would go to voicemail or be answered by a flunky; it was Chief of Staff Baker himself instead. I quickly let him know who was calling. He had to be a busy man and I didn’t want to waste his time. He seemed surprised when I informed him that all my office staff was going, without exception. He asked how I was so lucky to get everyone to want to accompany me to the United Kingdom. I had to think for a second and then responded, “I think it is because we consider ourselves a family, Sir.” He congratulated me on my office’s loyalty, told me that we would be contacted by those responsible for our moves, and ended the call.

We all congregated around the dinner table that night; the kitchen was abuzz with excitement. There were multiple conversations going on at the same time. All the women thought that I would have the answers to all their questions. I imagine I frustrated them by my constant answer of “I don’t know.”

I just told them that we would be getting numbers to call that would answer their questions; until then I was in the dark as much as they were. That seemed to satisfy everyone.

The phone rang, and I went to answer it. It was a rather exhausted-sounding Lawrence Foster on the phone to tell us that Karen Jamie Foster entered the world at 6:30 PM. She weighed in at 7 pounds and 4.5 ounces. She was 20 and a half inches long. Mother and daughter were doing well. I didn’t want to ruin his happiness by telling him we would be moving to England for the next year or so. I could do that later. Now was a time to celebrate good news. He ended the call, and I hung up the kitchen extension. I relayed the good news to Karen and Grandma. Karen shed tears realizing that they named their daughter after the two of us. I suggested that she not to say anything about the England move when she called Camilla later. We didn’t want to cause them any sorrow at this joyous time. Karen agreed and came to give me a hug. She was starting to show her own baby bump and did everything she could to show it off.

None of the extended family wanted to leave the kitchen, so we all sat around talking about the upcoming move. Grandma, with Olive’s and Karen’s help, baked some delicious oatmeal-raisin cookies. We had those along with the coffee someone made.

We all had fun laughing at some of the absurd comments made. Someone wanted to know if our daughters would come back to the United States sounding like Haley Mills. Someone else asked if we would learn to eat lamb and kidney pie, not to mention tripe and other British delicacies. I ticked Karen off when I made comments that she had finally learned to drive in traffic, and how would she now respond to driving on the wrong side of the road. That got everyone laughing, and Karen stared daggers at me. We all made it to bed laughing and in an upbeat mood. It had been a long time for any of us to feel that way. Beast and his partners in crime followed along behind us, checking everywhere to make sure that there were no bad people lurking around.

The phone calls from both governmental agencies and private business concerns began the next morning. I even had a Realtor call asking if I wanted to list our house with them. How do these people find this stuff out? There were too many calls to handle, and I asked Molly to screen my calls tighter. The only ones I would take would be from my wife, the White House, or any of the Cabinet Secretaries; take a message and number otherwise, and to dump any calls from Realtors. Things quieted down with Molly doing that. I went to her desk at noon time to get any messages that I would need to deal with. There was still a stack of pink message slips two inches thick waiting for me.

I went down to the concessionaire and purchased the lunch combo, namely a sub sandwich, a bag of chips, a brownie, and a bottle of juice. I took it back to eat at my desk while I sorted the calls. I quickly round-filed anything with the name Realty on it, and then started my second time through. The next ones to be filed in a similar fashion were any that said moving consultants or moving specialists. The calls from law firms were interesting. I called one to see what this was concerning. One attorney claimed he represented a relative of the old woman from whom I bought the house. I laughed at him over the phone, and I asked if he ever heard of a deed search and title insurance. He quickly hung up when I told him I would have the FBI investigate his claims. I saved that one to give to Molly’s fiancé for his enjoyment. The other three attorneys claimed to represent another party who was interested in purchasing my home, like a Realtor. I told them the house wasn’t for sale and ended the call.

Only three of the fifty calls were of any importance. One was from a military logistics unit who would be responsible for flying our household goods to and from Europe. They wanted to know what we would be bringing with us. I had no answer for that one, so I asked them to call the house and talk to Karen. Another call was from the State Department’s Office of Logistics and Property Management. It was their job to find housing for my household. I also asked them to call my house and talk to Karen. The last number was a mystery until I called and got an answer. It was the Soviet Embassy, and my wife and I received an invitation to a dinner that coming weekend. I initially said that we would be there and ended the call. My next call was to the number I was to call in case of an emergency or a serious problem. A by now familiar voice promptly answered the phone.

“Yes, Dr. Mercer, How can I assist you this time?” an upbeat President asked over the phone.

“I received an invitation to attend a dinner at the Soviet Embassy this weekend, Mr. President, and I’m concerned about the invitation,” I said.

“Oh good, I asked the Ambassador to extend an invitation to you and your wife,” he answered. “I was afraid that you would be overlooked. It is important for you to meet your opposition.”

“Now if there isn’t anything else, I need to get back to work,” he added.

I called home, hoping that Karen would pick up the phone. I wasn’t disappointed. She sounded elated to hear from me when I said hello. She said that she was frustrated and didn’t know where to start packing. I tried to assure her that we would have assistance from the State Department.

I asked her what our plans were for Saturday evening. She replied that nothing was planned—just sitting home watching TV. I then said, “I guess that you want me to cancel an invitation to eat with some old friends and their friends.” Karen asked who these friends were. I answered her with, ‘the President of the United States and the First Lady at the Soviet Embassy.” Karen about burst my eardrums screaming into the phone.

“You cancel that invitation and I swear that I will gut you like a fish!” Karen screamed. “Do you know how many people in Washington are even asked to attend a formal dinner like this?”

I said, “I thought that you wanted to stay home and watch TV.” I was laughing at Karen’s antics. She would have been pummeling me by now if I had been at home.

Karen squawked and let me know what she thought of my humor, then informed me that she didn’t have anything to wear and would have to go shopping. She needed her cousin Olive and their Grandma with her. She planned to call Jean to be her security while she was out. Karen would call her as soon as I hung up. I called Karen back when I realized something; I didn’t have a tuxedo and would need one. I told her and she laughed right back at me, then left me off the hook. She said that she had slipped an order in for Simon to make me a tuxedo the next time I ordered a suit and didn’t tell me. Simon, being Simon, had sent everything I would need for a formal setting: the tuxedo, shirt, shoes, bow tie, and cummerbund. I was glad that I had such a thoughtful wife.

I told Karen to get what she wanted, as it wasn’t every weekend that we got a chance to attend a formal dinner at the Soviet Embassy with the President of the United States and First Lady. I had to get back to business and told her I would see her this evening. I made a visit to Andi’s desk after lunch and everyone was back at work, and informed her about the formal dinner at the Soviet Embassy this weekend, and asked if she had any tips for me.

She got all serious and said, “Don’t try to look down the front of the Ambassador’s wife’s dress; that is considered bad manners in Russian culture.” She had me for a second and couldn’t stop laughing at me. I told her that I should have left her behind in Russia when I had the chance. She laughed even harder at my comment. I walked away, thinking ‘one of these days... ‘.

My last call of the day was to my mentor, Harry’s, office. I called him to see if he had any advice for me when I was at the Soviet Embassy this coming weekend. He suggested that I call the State Department’s Office of Diplomatic Affairs and ask if they would send someone around who could coach Karen and me. I thanked him for his suggestion and ended the call. I once again got out my inter-office phone book and looked up the office that he suggested. I had to go through three layers of bureaucracy until I got to someone who understood what I needed. They transferred me to the right person.

The woman on the phone immediately knew who I was when I introduced myself. I didn’t know if this was good or bad. She introduced herself as Alice Nelson, and I explained to her that I would be attending a dinner engagement at the Soviet Embassy at the invitation of the President and the First Lady. My wife and I felt we needed help to get through the evening. She jumped at the chance to meet with us and give us a quick lesson on protocol and formal dining practices. I arranged for her to meet with us at our home in Alexandria that evening. Karen and her gang would be home in time for our appointment with the State Department Consultant. I decided to call it an early evening, and headed for home an hour early. Randy and Scotty decided to throw in the towel and rode home with me.

I knew things would be in a rush that evening, so I ordered Chinese takeout for ten. The sample banquet meal they produced would feed everyone, and we could snack on the leftovers for the rest of the week. Karen and her crew arrived home just before the food arrived. Grandma appreciated my planning ahead by ordering the Chinese Banquet Sampler. She would have felt rushed to get a meal together. I told Karen why we would be having company this evening. I had contacted the State Department’s Office of Protocol, and their specialist was coming this evening to instruct us on Embassy Dining and Protocol.

We gave the kitchen a quick once-over after eating and putting the leftovers in the refrigerator, then waited for our tutor, Alice Nelson, to arrive. Beast and the two Dobermans suddenly made a racket and rushed to the front entrance. I looked through the peephole, and there stood an immense woman in her forties giving my house the once over. I opened the door, and Beast moved to be between our visitor and me. I shook her hand when she introduced herself, and Beast assumed that she was a friend and let her pass. Beast made sure she had plenty of opportunities to pet him on the way to the kitchen.

I made the introductions once we were in the kitchen. Alice wasted no time instructing us how to meet and greet people in the formal Washington manner. She also gave us a crash course on table service and manners. She saw that Karen was expecting. Washington may be progressive in many aspects, but pregnancy wasn’t one of them; it hadn’t changed much from the 18th century. It wasn’t a subject for polite society to discuss at the dining table. Our lessons went on for two hours. I felt satisfied with what we learned and called an end to the session.

Karen’s grandmother served us pie and coffee after we finished. The pie that Grandma served made a favorable impression on Alice. She complimented Grandma in that her pie was comparable to the pies served at the place to eat in DC. Everyone wanted to dine there; the list for reservations was six months long. Grandma beamed at being complimented about her pie. I informed Alice that the hotel was our second home in Washington. The reason why the pies were so much alike was that Karen’s grandmother had taught their kitchen staff to cook using her methods. Alice didn’t know whether or not to believe us, that was until Karen had me call the hotel and arrange for a dinner reservation for the next evening. We had a table for four at the requested time, much to the amazement of our new friend.

Alice met us in the hotel’s lobby at the agreed-upon time the next evening. We went up to the maitre d’s podium and were led to our table. Alice was in awe as the restaurant staff greeted us as old friends. Other diners were straining to look and see who was getting preferential treatment. The chef came out after we placed our orders and warmly greeted each of us. The chef, not knowing the new face among us, was waiting for an introduction. He warmly greeted Alice after she was introduced, and hoped that she enjoyed the meal that was being prepared. He stopped to ask Grandma Jorgenson a question before heading back into the kitchen. She answered, then he bent down, kissed her cheek, and went back into the kitchen.

We all had an enjoyable meal that evening. Alice Nelson, who we invited to dine with us, entertained us with stories of past dinners she attended, and humorous anecdotes about public figures. She was intrigued about my courtship of Karen. She laughed at the funny parts and was appalled by my leaving Karen at the altar. She approved of how I made up for it with the Reno marriage ceremony. I thought the poor woman was going to have a stroke laughing at my telling the story of trying my best to convince Karen of forgoing the Elvis-themed marriage ceremony. Karen got flustered while denying it. We gained another friend in Washington that evening; our guest told us that it had been ages since she had enjoyed a night out as she had this one. What added to the evening was Grandma Jorgenson agreeing to give Alice a cooking lesson. She left the hotel in good spirits.

The rest of the week was anti-climactic in anticipation of the Saturday night dinner at the Soviet Embassy. Karen went to pick up her dress and accessories Friday afternoon. I called Robert and asked him to serve as our driver for the formal affair. He promised the use of his best limousine that night, and he would naturally be our driver. Everything was falling into place with no surprises. I received a call from Alice Nelson, the woman who had been our tutor, and now was a friend. She suggested a few things I personally needed to do to make a better impression on our Soviet hosts. She said that I needed a haircut, a full facial, and my nails done. I think I sputtered when she suggested a facial and a manicure. I was beginning to wonder if Karen had put her up to this, but she assured me that I was taking on the role of a diplomat for this formal dinner and I needed to look the part. She took the liberty of scheduling me at a men’s specialty barbershop and spa that Saturday morning. Alice wished us good luck as she ended the call. She thought that we would become very popular with the DC crowd. I thought ‘if only my mother could see me now’, after the call ended.

Saturday morning started off with a bang. I had to be at the men’s spa for my treatment at eight AM. I didn’t know what to expect and tried to keep an open mind. I thought to myself ‘I don’t have to go back if I don’t like it’. The barber turned out to be a woman. I do admit my haircut turned out to be one of the best I had ever had. She informed me of all the latest gossip about the inner workings of DC instead of talking about sports and other ‘manly subjects’. I simply stated that I crunched numbers at the State Department when she started asking me about what I did and whom I worked with. I said that I was the one who generated the statistics on corn prices in South America and the average rainfall in the Sahara Desert. As for important people, I did say that I once attended a speech given by the President. I was one of a thousand or so in the auditorium. She took me for a ‘non-person’ and kept the conversation to turn this way and how do you normally wear your hair, etc. I was out of her chair and on my way to getting the facial twenty minutes later. I was in the hands of another woman who had the most talented hands I had ever encountered. She rubbed all sorts of lotions and potions on my face. I don’t think I was in her chair more than five minutes before I fell asleep. She had to wake me when she was done. I do admit my face felt good after the facial. I hoped I could convince Karen to learn the secret of face massage; it was good stuff.

I don’t know why, but I dreaded the manicure treatment. I had never experienced one before and wasn’t sure what all it entailed. I wasn’t expecting what I encountered when directed to the manicure station. I was expecting an older, middle-aged woman who would be a constant chatterbox about everything in her life. The manicurist turned out to be a slightly older oriental man instead. He said very little at first. I told him that I was a college professor in advanced mathematics at the University of Chicago before coming to Washington, DC, when he asked what I did for a living. It was suddenly as if he went through a transformation and started telling me about his life in Malaysia. He had been a student of mathematics at the university there. He asked me what my interests were. It was if a light turned on behind those eyes looking up at me when I explained the algorithm that I had developed. The questions started coming, and I have to admit that he gave me a run for my money at times while answering his questions.

I asked him if he was happy working at the spa when he finished working on my hands. He answered that it was a job and paid the bills. I took my pocket address book I always carried with me out and looked up the number for my friends in Seattle. I asked him to write down a number and to call it first thing Monday. He would be the perfect employee for them; I hated seeing him wasting his time doing other peoples’ nails. I asked for his name and said that I would make the introductions. He handed me a business card with his name and contact number there at the spa. His name was one of those unpronounceable ones that Westerners butcher. I wished him well, and told him that he could take me to lunch in Seattle the next time I came out on one of my consulting jobs if he got a job offer. He smiled and thanked me when I was leaving. One thing I hated most in this life was to see someone’s talents go to waste doing a job for which they were overqualified.

I waited for Robert and my protection detail to pick me up for the drive home after paying the rather hefty bill. I did enjoy the spa, especially the facial. I couldn’t justify doing it more than once a month, maybe yearly. My monthly food bill and gasoline purchases were less than what the treatments cost me. Robert was soon there to drive me home.

I was sitting in the kitchen entertaining Randy and Scotty about the facial a half hour later. I may have embellished the story somewhat for their benefit. They were sitting there attentively listening and making some choice comments when our wives came in. Listening to my fantasies about my experience at the spa, I had three sets of eyes staring daggers at me by the time I was done.

Karen informed me that I wouldn’t be going back any time soon. Wives put a damper on fun times. Jean and Olive made similar comments as well. Three sorry-sounding “Yes, Dears” were uttered in response.

I spent the rest of the day catching up on my reading. One article in particular in a scientific journal caught my interest. The author of the article was trying to develop a routine to predict the occurrence of a genetic defect in lab mice when a certain strain crossed with another. The only problem with the article was that the author was using my copyrighted algorithm without a license from me, in addition to not giving credit where credit was due. I hated to have a cease and desist letter sent out, but he was using my intellectual property to develop a commercial product for his benefit without paying a royalty. I would make a call to Seattle on Monday, and have my lawyer friend make someone’s day miserable. The author can predict to his heart’s content with my blessing if he gives me credit and makes the necessary royalty payments.

The formal dinner at the Soviet Embassy was to start at eight PM, so Karen and her entourage headed upstairs to get ready at 4 PM. I had earlier brought my tuxedo and accessories downstairs and planned to use Grandma’s en suite to get ready. Robert said that we would need to be ready to leave our house at 7 PM to make it to the Soviet Embassy on time.

I sat in the living room waiting for Karen to make her appearance and hoped that she would be ready on time; she had been prepping since 4 PM after all. I sent word upstairs at 6:30 PM that Robert would be here in thirty minutes and it wouldn’t do well for us to be late for our first outing in Washington society. The messenger gave me that dagger stare and told me not to worry. I was worried because I know how long it took Karen to get ready at times. I heard a commotion at 6:45 PM, and the dogs that had been upstairs all this time came running down the steps before the grand procession. The wait had been well worth it when I saw Karen coming down the steps. She was the Viking Princess, no doubt; whatever she had spent was well worth the expense. I don’t think I have ever seen her look any better from her hair to her dress and shoes. She would be the belle of the ball in my eyes. I made sure that I told her so. Her beauty radiated even further after my comment. Randy and Scotty had been watching TV, and they came out into the front entrance way when they heard the commotion; both were just as amazed as I had been.

Randy even made the comment, “Just think I have the red-headed version of her; how lucky can one be?” That earned him brownie points from the looks Olive gave him.

Out came the cameras, and Karen and I were photographed so many times, I felt like I was going to my senior prom. Robert showed up at 10 minutes to 7 PM, and we made our way out to his limo. Robert even took the time to wear his chauffeur’s uniform, including the silly hat. My Cinderella was going to the ball in style.

I think we hit every red light between our house and the Soviet Embassy, and when we got closer to the Embassy, traffic came to a complete standstill. I was in a panic and asked Robert about another route we could take. His answer was for me to relax; we would get there on time. Traffic stopped for the President’s motorcade to go through. Rank does have its privileges, I thought. It wasn’t too much longer before traffic started moving again.

We joined a queue of limos arriving at the Embassy; we had to wait in the car until we were at the entrance. I turned and looked at Karen before the door opened when it came our turn, and said, “Are you ready for this?” It was our formal introduction into Washington Society.

Karen looked at me and gave that beautiful smile she has. I think we both had a Cinderella moment when we first entered. We queued up behind the couple in front of us. They spoke Portuguese and were from either Portugal or Brazil. The female of the couple was pretty, but was nowhere close to Karen in beauty. I noticed that Karen turned a lot of heads as we made our way down the receiving line. An individual standing near the Soviet Ambassador would ask for your name. He would compare it to a list and then speak into a small microphone that was part of a headset. I observed another individual standing behind the Ambassador who would softly whisper your name in the Ambassador’s ear. It was a real slick way of appearing to know everyone attending your formal dinner party. When we were in front of the assistant with the clipboard, I gave our names as Dr. James Mercer, and wife Karen Mercer. I think the way I worded my response threw him off because he gave me this look of surprise and uncertainty. He quickly recovered, and I heard him say Dr. James and Karen Mercer into the headset.