Free Compromising Positions by Mary Whitney Page B

is he calling so late?
    “Hi, Alan. How are you?”
    “Hey, Jessie. I’m good. How are you? I don’t see you as much now that you’re not gimping around.”
    “I’m doing okay. It’s nice to be able to walk again.”
    “I bet it is. So, how about you let me take you out on Saturday?”
    Whoa. That came out of nowhere. I should’ve expected him to ask at one point, but it came as a surprise when my mind was squarely on Michael. Those thoughts were silly, though. For the briefest moment, I considered an actual date with Alan. I wasn’t sure I liked the idea, but turning him down seemed like very bad politics, especially after he’d been so helpful to me. A voice of reason rang in my head. Why can’t you at least go out with Alan for dinner? He’s great. Michael is just a crush. Nothing can ever happen there.
    Pragmatic Jessie heeded the voice. “That would be great, Alan. Thanks for asking.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Michael
    As we walked to my car from the Boys and Girls Club building, my mother said nothing important, mainly commenting on the weather. If she hadn’t been around, I would have been happy thinking about Jessie: what she was doing, remembering how pretty she was, thinking ahead to Friday, and maybe even wondering what it would be like to kiss her. Instead, I waited for the other shoe to drop.
    It was only a matter of time before my mom brought up Jessie. She waited only until I had pulled out of my parking space before she commented all too casually, “I said goodbye to Fanny Hampton. She’s a board member from California. She’s also a Democrat, so I asked her about Jessica Clark. She says that Jessica is a real firebrand—a little star within the party.”
    I was matter of fact. “Well, she won a hard election against an incumbent Republican in a year that went GOP. The Democrats love her.”
    “Fanny said she’s very smart.”
    Mom stared at me waiting for me to let something slip with a twitch of my eye or a twist of my mouth. I never looked at her, though. Instead, I stared straight ahead and drove, calmly replied, “Yes, she is. She’s an interesting person.”
    As soon as she said “Michael” and then sighed I knew I was in for a torrent of motherly concern. It began with, “I’m sure she is interesting, and she’s certainly pretty, but please consider—”
    “Mom…,” I said, flashing her a look. “Don’t say a thing. There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t thought about.”
    She was quiet for a moment, and so was I. There was so much silence I started to think I should say something, or she’d think I’d already fallen for Jessie. Hell. I didn’t even really know her. I just wanted to get to know her better. I muttered, “It’s not a big deal. Don’t worry about it.”
    “But that’s it, Michael. Everything in your life is a big deal now. You’re a member of Congress.”
    “I understand that.” My testiness showed through the three words.
    More silence ensued as I drove faster than I should have through the D.C. streets. My parents kept a condo at the Watergate, so if I could just get my mom out of the car, the topic could die for the night. When we finally arrived at Virginia Avenue not far from her building, she broke the quiet solitude I’d retreated into. She was direct, but her voice was kind. “You’ve thought about everything, yet you still like her?”
    What to say? She’d already figured it all out. I waited only a few seconds before I gave in, both to my mom and my situation. With a slow nod, I said, “Yet, I still like her.”
    “And how do you think she feels?”
    Staring blankly at the road, I told the truth. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
    ~~~
    When Larry met me at the door, he grinned at the two six-packs of micro-brew I held in my hands. “Hey. Thanks for bringing the beer.”
    “My pleasure.” I grinned. “Thanks for having me over.”
    “Let me get that,” Larry said as he motioned toward the bottles.
    “Nah. I got