Dreamspinner Press Year Nine Greatest Hits

by Michael Murphy

  “I’m sorry, sir, but the President has retired to the residence for the evening and has gone to bed. He is scheduled to be in the Oval Office in the morning at his usual time.”

  “Thank you. In the morning, please tell him that I called. Thank you. Good night.” As he turned off the light and lay back down in bed, David sighed, grateful Gray was back in the United States and in his own bed, but equally unhappy that he wasn’t there. His anger and upset with Gray was still quite pronounced, so he wasn’t entirely sure why he was so unhappy at not being there.

  When he woke up the following morning, his unconscious had sorted it all out—he wanted to be there so he and Gray could talk, could hash the whole thing out and clear the air of all of the issues that hung so heavily around them at the moment. David had never been one for sweeping things under the carpet or ignoring issues. He supposed it was his medical training, which required him to deal with issues no matter how nasty and messy and ugly they might be. The same held true in his personal life as it did in his professional life.

  That morning the sessions were quite good, and he’d made plans to meet up with some of his friends so they could go to them together. When David explained why this was so important and what he’d gone through the previous day, they were all understanding and volunteered to do what they could to help make it less onerous for him.

  Between sessions, coffee dates, touring the exhibit floor, a lunch date, and a dinner date, David was busy all day. He didn’t get back to his room until nearly ten o’clock that night. The clock might have said ten, but his body clock was trying to persuade the rest of his mind that it was really much later. Since he was basically still on East Coast time, it felt like one in the morning, so David didn’t stay up to try to read or to do anything else.

  It was only when he’d turned off the light that he realized Gray hadn’t called back. He was sure he’d told the operator to give him a message in the morning. He knew he hadn’t asked Gray to return his call, but he had expected to hear from Gray at some point. He didn’t know what to make of the fact that Gray hadn’t reached out in any way.

  He turned the light back on, grabbed the phone, and called the White House operator.

  “Hello. This is Dr. Hammond. I left a message last night for the President. Do you know if he got that message this morning?”

  “The chief of staff’s office retrieved his messages early this morning.”

  David cringed.

  “Why do they get his messages?”

  “That’s the protocol, sir.”

  “I need to leave a message for him again, but I absolutely do not want anyone connected with the chief of staff’s office to see it or retrieve it or even be aware of its existence. This message is for my husband and not for anyone else.”

  “All right, sir. What is the message?”

  “Please tell him that I called.”

  “That’s it?” the operator asked, seeming convinced she had misheard him somehow.

  “Yes, that’s the message. Please tell him I called. And again, make sure that it goes directly to the President and does not go anywhere near the chief of staff’s office or anyone connected with his office. That is of paramount importance.”

  “Very well, sir.”

  “Thank you. Good night.”

  David turned off the light and lay down again, suddenly not at all convinced Gray would ever get his message.

  DAVID’S THIRD day at the conference was as busy as the previous day had been. The only difference was he and a group of his friends went out for dinner that night at a restaurant several blocks from the convention center. They had spectacular food and great wine, not to mention wonderful conversation.

  It was rather late when he got back to his hotel. As had happened the previous two nights, it was when he lay down in bed that he realized Gray had never called him again that day. As was becoming ritual for him, David called the White House operator, gave the operator on duty that night the same story, and inquired about whether Gray had received the message David had left him the previous night.

  “I’m not able to answer that question, sir. There is no notation in the record to verify the disposition of the message. That’s surprising. There should be some note. I don’t understand why there isn’t.”

  “I’m not sure if it’s worth the effort, but I’ll try this one more time.” For the millionth time David cursed the day Gray had surrendered his cell phone at the urging of his senior staff. He had never imagined it would make reaching Gray so difficult. “I need to leave a message for my husband, but it absolutely cannot go to the chief of staff or anyone connected with his office. This is a message for my husband and only for him. It cannot go anywhere near the chief of staff’s office. This is a message strictly for my husband. If you cannot guarantee that, then I’m just wasting my time, and I’ll have to find another way to work around you.” David was getting pissed the more he talked. Otherwise he would never have said so much about what he was really thinking.

  “I understand, sir. What is the message?”

  “Tell him that I called and ask him to call me.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yes, that’s it. The key thing is that it goes to only him. If it gets into the hands of the chief of staff’s office, I can practically guarantee that it will never reach Gray.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  WHEN HE heard nothing by midafternoon the following day, David spoke with the lead agent of his detail and asked, “Do you have the President’s schedule for today?”

  “I can get it, sir.”

  “Yes, please find out what he has going on today. I’d also appreciate seeing what he had yesterday and the day before as well.”

  Fifteen minutes later the agent tapped his shoulder and handed him several pieces of paper that gave him the official presidential schedule. The only difference between the schedule for that day and the reports for earlier days was that the earlier days were actual reports of exactly what happened. Who arrived at what time (to the minute), when they were shown into the Oval Office, how long they were there, who else was there at the same time.

  Perhaps the most interesting aspect of the reports for the two previous days was the simple notation at the end that reported when the President left the office and retired to the residence. The first night it was 5:30 p.m., and the second night it was 6:05 p.m. Gray never got home so early when David was there. That fact made David’s heart feel heavy. Was he the reason Gray was so constantly absent from the residence and from his life? David was so overwhelmed by this unexpected prospect that he had to get up and leave the session and go into a men’s room to get himself put back together emotionally.

  He returned to his session but stepped out once again at 4:00. Using a cell phone borrowed from an agent, he called home. With the three hours of time difference it would be 7:00 back in DC, so he thought his chances of reaching Gray were better.

  When he reached the operator, he said, “Please connect me with the President.”

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Hammond, but he’s out of the building.”

  “I don’t understand. There are no evening events on his schedule for tonight.”

  “He went out to dinner with the chief of staff.”

  David was silent.

  “Are you still there, sir?”

  “Um, yes, I’m still here. Do you know where they went and when they left?”

  The name of the restaurant was a well-known place in DC. They had apparently left only fifteen minutes before David called.

  “May I take a message, sir?”

  “No. No message,” David said, disconnecting the call.

  Part of him wanted to leave the meeting and just go back to his room and hide out for the rest of the day. But another part of his mind told him he should go out and live it up big-time, way beyond what he usually did. That part of his brain was telling him to go get drunk, to drink himself stupid. The only problem with that was that David didn’t ever do that.
He hated to lose control of himself or any situation, another part of his medical training. He went back to the session he’d been in, but after it was over he couldn’t have said what the speakers had talked about.

  The remainder of the session was just an empty spot in his memory. He’d sat through all of it, but who said what simply hadn’t registered. Gray had gone out to dinner with David’s arch-nemesis. David couldn’t even get Gray to come upstairs for dinner, but his chief of staff could get him to go out to dinner. Where was the justice in that? David knew that when he got back to DC and Gray happened to also be in town at the same time once again, Gray would be working ridiculous hours and would have no time for luxuries like dinner at home with him.

  That evening David was not a very good dinner companion. He was present physically, but he was grateful others were present to carry the conversation, because he certainly wasn’t up to the task. Back at his hotel that night, all he could do was hope no one had asked him anything too important, because he really couldn’t remember what he’d talked about during dinner.

  It was to be his final night in San Francisco, and he almost picked up his telephone to make his nightly call to the White House, but he stopped himself. Why bother? None of his calls before had done one iota of good. They clearly hadn’t reached Gray, and it was almost worse to think that they had. If they had reached Gray, then that made the issue only that much worse, and David couldn’t handle that just then.

  On his fifth day in San Francisco, he attended sessions in the morning, had a quick lunch with some friends, and then was whisked to the airport for his flight back to DC. The wheels of their plane touched down onto the runway in Maryland at just about midnight. Taxi time was relatively short, and then they were in a car for the drive back to the White House. At that hour of the night, there was very little traffic, so they made excellent time.

  Inside the house, he stopped, not sure he wanted to go upstairs. But finally he got his feet moving and climbed the stairs, carrying his suitcase with him. But rather than go into the empty bedroom that at one time he had shared with Gray, David kept climbing and went up to what had become his bedroom on the third floor.

  Instead of simply falling into bed, David went downstairs and found the agent on duty on the second level.

  “Do you have the President’s travel schedule for his current trip?”

  “No, sir, but I can get it for you.”

  “Please,” David told him. A quick radio call and five minutes later another agent appeared with the requested schedule in hand. A quick read gave him what he needed to know—this trip was relatively short by presidential standards, at only two nights away.

  “Do you know if his chief of staff is in town this week?”

  Another quick radio conversation gave David the answer he anticipated, even though he did not welcome the news.

  “No, sir. He’s on the trip to California with the President.”

  David nodded. “Thank you.” He climbed the stairs to his new bedroom on the third floor and closed the door to the room, fearing that he was also closing the door on a chapter of his life.

  ON THE day that Gray was finally scheduled to return to the White House, David was not surprised when he was informed Gray’s trip had been extended by an additional night and that he would not be returning to the White House as originally planned.

  The following day, David was once again primed and ready to meet and talk with Gray, but when he checked on Gray’s travel status, he was again not surprised to learn that Gray was running quite late. Rather than return at four in the afternoon as had been planned, he actually got back to the White House at close to midnight.

  When he heard the helicopter landing on the South Lawn, David walked to the top of the stairs to wait for Gray. He noticed Gray looked exhausted, much like David felt, although David suspected there were different reasons at play.

  “Hey,” Gray said with a smile. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Gray moved to hug him, but David stepped back. “You’re still up. I thought you’d be in bed by now.”

  “I’ve been waiting for you. We need to talk,” David started, not returning Gray’s smile.

  “Can it wait till morning, babe? I’m beat.”

  “No. I’m sorry, but it cannot wait. This is a conversation I have wanted to have with you for many weeks now. I know your schedule for tomorrow is probably more than overloaded, and now that you’re back, you’ll be diving right back into the thick of it, and I probably will not see you again for days, if not weeks. This is important—it’s very important—and it cannot wait.”

  Gray’s smile had vanished, and he looked at David with concern. “This sounds serious. What’s wrong?”

  “It is serious. At least I think it’s serious. I’m not sure what you’ll think about it.”

  “It sounds like this might take a few minutes. Could I go take a quick shower and get changed first?” Gray asked.

  “Sure.” David had waited that long, so what was another ten minutes?

  When Gray returned to the living room, David was standing and looking out one of the windows at nothing in particular. When he heard Gray, David looked back and noticed Gray looked more comfortable. He still looked exhausted, but the shower appeared to have helped to revive him a bit. With Gray seated on the sofa at the opposite end from him, but turned to face toward him, it was finally time to talk, time to lay all of his cards on the table.

  “You look exhausted,” David said.

  “I feel it too. All right. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I’ve decided to get an apartment over near the university campus.” David paused and let that bit of information sink in. He had Gray’s full and undivided attention. “I’ve packed everything I need. I’ll be leaving here in the morning… and will not be coming back tomorrow night.”

  The look of alarm on Gray’s face told David that Gray had heard the words. “You…. David? I don’t understand. Why?”

  “I think I’ll be more comfortable over there, and I’ll be out of your way, making it more comfortable for you here. You need uninterrupted time to focus on your job, and you don’t need the constant annoyance that comes with having me here right now. You need to focus on being President. I understand that you have a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and I want you to get from it everything you want. But I can’t handle this any longer. When you look at me or interact with me anymore, do you realize that mostly what you say is ‘I’m sorry’? I can’t handle being the source of so much grief for you. So I’ll be moving to a hotel tomorrow until I can find an apartment.”

  Gray looked shocked by what David had just told him. “Is… is… is there… someone else?”

  “What? No! There never has been, because we’ve always had a rock-solid relationship. Until about eight months ago, when I started to lose you. And now it’s you who’s found someone else, or more properly, something else that’s more important to you. At first it hurt, but I’ve reached a point where I’m more at peace with the whole thing.

  “So I understand now that we each have a different… I don’t know, focus, I guess. Your entire focus is on this job that you practically live. And that’s fine now that I understand that it is your primary focus.

  “I’ll be out of here in the morning. Once I have a new address, I’ll let you know where I’ll be in case you need to reach me.” He paused for a moment.

  Gray jumped in, desperate. “David, that’s not fair. I’m here with you now.”

  “Only because I forced you to, Gray. Your original question when you heard I wanted to talk was ‘Can’t it wait until morning?’”

  David hesitated for a moment, deep in thought. “Do you know what makes me saddest of all? I suspect that this job, the way you’re trying to do it, is going to kill you, and I’m not sure if you’re going to survive your time in the White House, and that is tearing me into a million painful pieces inside, Gray. Even if you don’t value your life, I do, and I can’t bear to watch you worki
ng yourself to death. At a minimum, if this job doesn’t give you a heart attack or kill you, it is going to shave years off your life.”

  Gray dropped from the sofa to kneel in front of David. “Babe, I knew you were mad with me, but I didn’t realize it was this bad.”

  “How could you?” David asked with a weak smile. “We haven’t seen one another in weeks.”

  “David, there is nothing more important to me than you. You are the most important person in my life.”

  “Gray, don’t try that. We both know that’s not true, and it certainly is not how you’ve behaved or acted this last year. It used to be true, but it hasn’t been true since we moved in here. So don’t insult me by trying to use that line now.”

  “David, you probably won’t believe me, but I love you with all my heart. You’re the man I love. I never expected to be President. Other men come to the office somewhat prepared, with a team in place, with an agenda. I didn’t have any of that, so I have had to build all of that on the fly while dealing with some other guy’s hand-picked team. The highly unusual circumstances that brought us here also presented me with a unique opportunity to forge some political alliances to maybe push some legislation through Congress.”

  “That is all true,” David said, “and I understand, but others have done this same job while working far fewer hours. Granted, you came to the office in highly unusual circumstances, but even in times of crisis, others have learned to not micromanage but to have faith in the people they have in various jobs closer to the front line of issues, allowing the President to be more of a leader, a policy setter, and not a supervisor who has to clear everything personally before it happens.

  “I realize that you didn’t get to pick the people who occupy many of those jobs, so maybe you don’t have as much confidence in those people as you would in someone you hand selected for those jobs. But we’ve been here for nearly eight months now, and even something that can’t turn on a dime could be changed in that time.”