philodendron on her desk. She wondered why no one had watered it. Maybe, like herself, it was meant to die. Like hell.
Julia grabbed the plant and raced down the hall to the kitchen where she used a plastic fork to stir up the hard earth. Somewhere in one of the cabinets there was a bottle of plant food one of the nurses had brought in. Six drops to a plant was what she’d said. Julia watered the plant, soaking it thoroughly before she added the six drops of plant food. With a paper plate underneath the plant she made her way back to her office where she set the plant on the desk. With a pair of old surgical shears, she trimmed off the yellow leaves. The plant still looked sickly and half dead. Just like me, she thought. Julia remembered reading somewhere that you were supposed to talk to plants to make them thrive.
Julia muttered and mumbled as she looked through her desk to see if there was anything else she needed to take with her. At the last second, she opened the drawer and took out all of her prescription pads and jammed them into her medical bag.
Done.
Julia was just about to walk through the emergency door exit when she stopped and ran back to her office. She reached for the plant and smiled. “You still have six leaves, my friend. That’s not a death sentence.” She stopped in the kitchen and took the bottle of plant food and left a ten dollar bill with a note in its place. Now, she could leave this place. In her heart she said good-bye because she knew she’d never be coming back.
Fifteen minutes later, Julia entered her house in Georgetown carrying her plant. She set it on the kitchen counter, then turned to face her husband. Mitch Webster roared like a lion as he stormed about chastising her for making him wait when he had a golf date with the House Speaker.
“Ask me if I care, Mitch. I don’t. Did you make coffee? I need a cup. Would you like one?”
“No, I don’t want any coffee. What the hell’s gotten into you, Julia? I just heard you took a leave of absence. Why?”
“I felt like it. Overwork, you know,” Julia said as she scooped coffee into the plastic container. She turned to look at her husband with clinical interest. He was still a handsome man, tall and lean, exquisite tailoring, just the right tan to his face. He must use a sunlamp, she thought. His nails were manicured. She hadn’t noticed that before, either. Just the right amount of gray at his temples to make him distinguished. Beautiful, dove gray eyes, thanks to artificial lenses. Capped teeth that had made some dentist happy. A good-looking man who shared her house, and a senator to boot. She wondered why she didn’t feel anything.
“Congratulations, Mitch! You should have told me.”
“They told me not to say anything. You knew I was on the short list. It was in all the papers. It’s a whole new ball game now, Julia.”
“You bet it is. Well, guess what, I don’t want to play in that ball game, Mitch. The reason I wanted you to wait for this little talk was to tell you I want a divorce. I also want to know, down to the penny, what you did with all the money you took out of my account. Close your mouth, Mitch, you look like a hooked fish.”
“What the hell’s gotten into you, Julia? You can’t divorce me. Not now. I’m going to be the next vice president of the United States.”
Julia sniffed. “I hope you don’t expect me to be impressed, Mitch, because I’m not. I have no desire to live in Washington’s fishbowl. Being a senator’s wife was bad enough. I’m surprised you’re so willing to give up your senate seat. Being a vice president will be incredibly boring. All those funerals you have to attend. You’ll have to give up your tomcatting ways because every move you make will come under scrutiny. Like I said, I want a divorce.”
“Julia, Julia, Julia. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. We’re an old married couple. We’re going to grow old together. That’s what we promised each other
Julia grabbed the plant and raced down the hall to the kitchen where she used a plastic fork to stir up the hard earth. Somewhere in one of the cabinets there was a bottle of plant food one of the nurses had brought in. Six drops to a plant was what she’d said. Julia watered the plant, soaking it thoroughly before she added the six drops of plant food. With a paper plate underneath the plant she made her way back to her office where she set the plant on the desk. With a pair of old surgical shears, she trimmed off the yellow leaves. The plant still looked sickly and half dead. Just like me, she thought. Julia remembered reading somewhere that you were supposed to talk to plants to make them thrive.
Julia muttered and mumbled as she looked through her desk to see if there was anything else she needed to take with her. At the last second, she opened the drawer and took out all of her prescription pads and jammed them into her medical bag.
Done.
Julia was just about to walk through the emergency door exit when she stopped and ran back to her office. She reached for the plant and smiled. “You still have six leaves, my friend. That’s not a death sentence.” She stopped in the kitchen and took the bottle of plant food and left a ten dollar bill with a note in its place. Now, she could leave this place. In her heart she said good-bye because she knew she’d never be coming back.
Fifteen minutes later, Julia entered her house in Georgetown carrying her plant. She set it on the kitchen counter, then turned to face her husband. Mitch Webster roared like a lion as he stormed about chastising her for making him wait when he had a golf date with the House Speaker.
“Ask me if I care, Mitch. I don’t. Did you make coffee? I need a cup. Would you like one?”
“No, I don’t want any coffee. What the hell’s gotten into you, Julia? I just heard you took a leave of absence. Why?”
“I felt like it. Overwork, you know,” Julia said as she scooped coffee into the plastic container. She turned to look at her husband with clinical interest. He was still a handsome man, tall and lean, exquisite tailoring, just the right tan to his face. He must use a sunlamp, she thought. His nails were manicured. She hadn’t noticed that before, either. Just the right amount of gray at his temples to make him distinguished. Beautiful, dove gray eyes, thanks to artificial lenses. Capped teeth that had made some dentist happy. A good-looking man who shared her house, and a senator to boot. She wondered why she didn’t feel anything.
“Congratulations, Mitch! You should have told me.”
“They told me not to say anything. You knew I was on the short list. It was in all the papers. It’s a whole new ball game now, Julia.”
“You bet it is. Well, guess what, I don’t want to play in that ball game, Mitch. The reason I wanted you to wait for this little talk was to tell you I want a divorce. I also want to know, down to the penny, what you did with all the money you took out of my account. Close your mouth, Mitch, you look like a hooked fish.”
“What the hell’s gotten into you, Julia? You can’t divorce me. Not now. I’m going to be the next vice president of the United States.”
Julia sniffed. “I hope you don’t expect me to be impressed, Mitch, because I’m not. I have no desire to live in Washington’s fishbowl. Being a senator’s wife was bad enough. I’m surprised you’re so willing to give up your senate seat. Being a vice president will be incredibly boring. All those funerals you have to attend. You’ll have to give up your tomcatting ways because every move you make will come under scrutiny. Like I said, I want a divorce.”
“Julia, Julia, Julia. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. We’re an old married couple. We’re going to grow old together. That’s what we promised each other
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