as Senator or sir.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“And
don’t bother him with too many questions.”
“No,
Mom.”
“Remember
that a conversation conducted by two people should be fifty percent talking and
fifty percent listening.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Hello,
Mrs. Davenport, how are you?” asked Jimmy as he opened
the door to greet them.
“I’m well, thank you, Jimmy, and you?”
“Just great. I’m
afraid Mom and Dad are out at some function, but I could make you a cup of
tea?”
“No
thank you, I have to be back in time to chair a meeting of the Hospital Trust,
but please remember to pass on my best wishes to your parents.”
Jimmy
carried one of Fletcher’s suitcases up to the spare room. “I’ve put you next to
me,” he said, “which means we have to share the same bathroom.”
Fletcher
put his other suitcase on the bed, before studying the pictures on the
walls-prints of the Civil War, just in case a southerner should come to stay
and might have forgotten who won. They reminded Jimmy to ask Fletcher if he’d
finished his essay on Lincoln.
“Yes,
but have you found out Diane’s phone number?”
“I’ve
gone one better. I’ve discovered which coffee shop she goes to most afternoons.
So I thought we might just drop in casually, say around five, and should that
fail, my father has invited her parents to a reception at the Capitol tomorrow
evening.”
“But
they might not come.”
“I’ve
checked the guest list, and they’ve accepted.”
Fletcher
suddenly remembered the trade-off he’d agreed on with senator. “How far have
you got with your homework?”
“Haven’t
even started,” admitted Jimmy.
“Jimmy, if you don’t get a pass grade next term, Mr.
Haskins will put you on probation and then I won’t be able to help.”
“I
know, but I’m also aware of the deal you struck with my father.”
“Then
if I’m to keep it, we’ll have to start work first thing tomorrow. We’ll begin
by doing two hours every morning.”
“Yes
sir,” said Jimmy, snapping to attention.
“But
before we worry about tomorrow, perhaps you should get changed,” said Jimmy.
Fletcher
had packed half a dozen shirts and a couple pairs of slacks, but still hadn’t a
clue what to wear on his first date. He was about to seek his friend’s advice,
when Jimmy said, “Once you’ve unpacked why don’t you come down and join us in
the living room? The bathroom’s at the end of the hall.”
Fletcher
changed quickly into the shirt and slacks he’d bought the previous day at a
local tailor his father had recommended. He checked himself in the long mirror.
He had no idea how he looked, because he’d never taken any interest in clothes
before. Act casual, look sharp, he’d heard a disc jockey telling his radio audience,
but what did that mean? He’d worry about it later. As Fletcher walked
downstairs, he could hear voices coming from the front room, one of which he
didn’t recognize.
“Mom,
you remember Fletcher,” Jimmy said as his friend strolled into the room.
“Yes,
of course I do. My husband never stops telling everyone about the fascinating
conversation the two of you had at the Tail game.”
“That’s
kind of him to remember,” said Fletcher, not looking at her.
“And
I know he’s looking forward to seeing you again.”
“That’s
kind of him,” said Fletcher a second time.
“And
this is my kid sister, Annie,” said Jimmy.
Annie
blushed, and not only because she hated being described by Jimmy as his kid
sister: his friend hadn’t taken his eyes off her from the moment he’d walked into
the room.
“Good
evening, Mrs. Coulter, how nice to meet you and your husband, and this must be
your daughter Diane, if I remember correctly.” Mr. and Mrs. Coulter were
impressed because they had never met the senator before, and not only had their
son scored the winning touchdown against Hotchkiss, but they were registered
Republicans. “Now, Diane,” continued the senator, “I have someone
“Yes, Mom.”
“And
don’t bother him with too many questions.”
“No,
Mom.”
“Remember
that a conversation conducted by two people should be fifty percent talking and
fifty percent listening.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Hello,
Mrs. Davenport, how are you?” asked Jimmy as he opened
the door to greet them.
“I’m well, thank you, Jimmy, and you?”
“Just great. I’m
afraid Mom and Dad are out at some function, but I could make you a cup of
tea?”
“No
thank you, I have to be back in time to chair a meeting of the Hospital Trust,
but please remember to pass on my best wishes to your parents.”
Jimmy
carried one of Fletcher’s suitcases up to the spare room. “I’ve put you next to
me,” he said, “which means we have to share the same bathroom.”
Fletcher
put his other suitcase on the bed, before studying the pictures on the
walls-prints of the Civil War, just in case a southerner should come to stay
and might have forgotten who won. They reminded Jimmy to ask Fletcher if he’d
finished his essay on Lincoln.
“Yes,
but have you found out Diane’s phone number?”
“I’ve
gone one better. I’ve discovered which coffee shop she goes to most afternoons.
So I thought we might just drop in casually, say around five, and should that
fail, my father has invited her parents to a reception at the Capitol tomorrow
evening.”
“But
they might not come.”
“I’ve
checked the guest list, and they’ve accepted.”
Fletcher
suddenly remembered the trade-off he’d agreed on with senator. “How far have
you got with your homework?”
“Haven’t
even started,” admitted Jimmy.
“Jimmy, if you don’t get a pass grade next term, Mr.
Haskins will put you on probation and then I won’t be able to help.”
“I
know, but I’m also aware of the deal you struck with my father.”
“Then
if I’m to keep it, we’ll have to start work first thing tomorrow. We’ll begin
by doing two hours every morning.”
“Yes
sir,” said Jimmy, snapping to attention.
“But
before we worry about tomorrow, perhaps you should get changed,” said Jimmy.
Fletcher
had packed half a dozen shirts and a couple pairs of slacks, but still hadn’t a
clue what to wear on his first date. He was about to seek his friend’s advice,
when Jimmy said, “Once you’ve unpacked why don’t you come down and join us in
the living room? The bathroom’s at the end of the hall.”
Fletcher
changed quickly into the shirt and slacks he’d bought the previous day at a
local tailor his father had recommended. He checked himself in the long mirror.
He had no idea how he looked, because he’d never taken any interest in clothes
before. Act casual, look sharp, he’d heard a disc jockey telling his radio audience,
but what did that mean? He’d worry about it later. As Fletcher walked
downstairs, he could hear voices coming from the front room, one of which he
didn’t recognize.
“Mom,
you remember Fletcher,” Jimmy said as his friend strolled into the room.
“Yes,
of course I do. My husband never stops telling everyone about the fascinating
conversation the two of you had at the Tail game.”
“That’s
kind of him to remember,” said Fletcher, not looking at her.
“And
I know he’s looking forward to seeing you again.”
“That’s
kind of him,” said Fletcher a second time.
“And
this is my kid sister, Annie,” said Jimmy.
Annie
blushed, and not only because she hated being described by Jimmy as his kid
sister: his friend hadn’t taken his eyes off her from the moment he’d walked into
the room.
“Good
evening, Mrs. Coulter, how nice to meet you and your husband, and this must be
your daughter Diane, if I remember correctly.” Mr. and Mrs. Coulter were
impressed because they had never met the senator before, and not only had their
son scored the winning touchdown against Hotchkiss, but they were registered
Republicans. “Now, Diane,” continued the senator, “I have someone
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