reply. “And with all the trouble you’ve gotten into over the past few years—I mean, I know the papers are always playing up your exploits—the Hydens have all the ammunition they need if someone criticizes their decision to let you go.”
“Thanks Buck,” I said. “I’m feeling so much better now.”
He waved away my sarcasm. “I’m just saying what you’ve already figured out for yourself.”
He was right, darn it.
“Maybe it’s good that Mrs. Hyden doesn’t know that the chicken wings were given to the laundry staff,” I said. “This way, she doesn’t know about my involvement. She’s probably heard plenty of stories about things that happened during the Campbell presidency. Maybe if I keep a low profile this time, I’ll have a better chance at keeping my job.”
“You? Keep a low profile?” Bucky barked a laugh. “Not in this lifetime.”
“Your support is overwhelming.”
He fixed me with a look. “I know you don’t want to talk about why you and Tom broke up, but I have my suspicions. You’ve got to be true to your nature, Ollie, and you usually are. But don’t for a minute underestimate the challenges you’re stuck with because of it.”
That was one of the longest sentiments Bucky had ever expressed to me. Again, he was right and I told him so. “Thanks, Buck,” I said. “Now, let’s plan to make dinner so incredible and delicious that they tell this Chef Ballantine his services are no longer needed.”
I caught Gardez and Nourie exchanging a look that told me they’d heard the entire conversation. Nourie lifted his chin and said, “The new guy doesn’t stand a chance.”
While Bucky prepared a marinade for tonight’s beef entrée, I peeled potatoes for a new side dish we planned to introduce. Deep in our respective tasks, we didn’t pay attention to the noise in the hallway and only looked up when Mrs. Hyden and the children walked in.
Mrs. Hyden was tall, with shoulder-length dark hair, a trim build, and a quick smile. “Good afternoon,” she said.
Bucky and I both stopped what we were doing and wiped our hands on our aprons. Gardez and Nourie straightened and greeted her with silent nods.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Hyden,” I said. “And hello again, Abigail, Josh.”
The two kids said hello, then looked to their mother. Mrs. Hyden spoke. “The children wanted to come down to visit each department to express our gratitude at making us feel at home. We are all still adjusting to this new environment, but we realize how much is being done behind the scenes to see to our comfort.”
“What about me?” Josh asked.
Mrs. Hyden directed a fond gaze toward the boy, then explained, “Josh hopes to be a chef someday, too, don’t you?”
He nodded vigorously.
I brought my face down to his level. “I’m sure Chef Virgil will have lots to share with you, but don’t forget that you and your sister are always welcome down here in the main kitchen, okay?”
“Really?”
Mrs. Hyden started to protest. “Won’t they be in the way?”
“No, not at all,” I said. “Unless it’s an hour before a major state dinner where we’re serving a hundred guests, we can always make time for kids in the kitchen. They can help us come up with treats for school, or Abigail and Josh can invite friends for a pizza-making party.” To the two of them, I said, “Whatever you need, we’re here for you.”
Abigail seemed less impressed than Josh did, but both children were significantly happier with us than they had been on inauguration night. As though he read my mind, however, Josh decided to bring up the subject. “Whatever happened to the Rene’s Wings that I found the other night? Did you eat them?”
I felt a subtle shift in the room’s mood. As we’d been talking, Bucky had come to stand beside me, and now he and I exchanged a look. “No, of course not.” Thinking about creating a teachable moment, I added, “No one in the White House should ever eat anything
“Thanks Buck,” I said. “I’m feeling so much better now.”
He waved away my sarcasm. “I’m just saying what you’ve already figured out for yourself.”
He was right, darn it.
“Maybe it’s good that Mrs. Hyden doesn’t know that the chicken wings were given to the laundry staff,” I said. “This way, she doesn’t know about my involvement. She’s probably heard plenty of stories about things that happened during the Campbell presidency. Maybe if I keep a low profile this time, I’ll have a better chance at keeping my job.”
“You? Keep a low profile?” Bucky barked a laugh. “Not in this lifetime.”
“Your support is overwhelming.”
He fixed me with a look. “I know you don’t want to talk about why you and Tom broke up, but I have my suspicions. You’ve got to be true to your nature, Ollie, and you usually are. But don’t for a minute underestimate the challenges you’re stuck with because of it.”
That was one of the longest sentiments Bucky had ever expressed to me. Again, he was right and I told him so. “Thanks, Buck,” I said. “Now, let’s plan to make dinner so incredible and delicious that they tell this Chef Ballantine his services are no longer needed.”
I caught Gardez and Nourie exchanging a look that told me they’d heard the entire conversation. Nourie lifted his chin and said, “The new guy doesn’t stand a chance.”
While Bucky prepared a marinade for tonight’s beef entrée, I peeled potatoes for a new side dish we planned to introduce. Deep in our respective tasks, we didn’t pay attention to the noise in the hallway and only looked up when Mrs. Hyden and the children walked in.
Mrs. Hyden was tall, with shoulder-length dark hair, a trim build, and a quick smile. “Good afternoon,” she said.
Bucky and I both stopped what we were doing and wiped our hands on our aprons. Gardez and Nourie straightened and greeted her with silent nods.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Hyden,” I said. “And hello again, Abigail, Josh.”
The two kids said hello, then looked to their mother. Mrs. Hyden spoke. “The children wanted to come down to visit each department to express our gratitude at making us feel at home. We are all still adjusting to this new environment, but we realize how much is being done behind the scenes to see to our comfort.”
“What about me?” Josh asked.
Mrs. Hyden directed a fond gaze toward the boy, then explained, “Josh hopes to be a chef someday, too, don’t you?”
He nodded vigorously.
I brought my face down to his level. “I’m sure Chef Virgil will have lots to share with you, but don’t forget that you and your sister are always welcome down here in the main kitchen, okay?”
“Really?”
Mrs. Hyden started to protest. “Won’t they be in the way?”
“No, not at all,” I said. “Unless it’s an hour before a major state dinner where we’re serving a hundred guests, we can always make time for kids in the kitchen. They can help us come up with treats for school, or Abigail and Josh can invite friends for a pizza-making party.” To the two of them, I said, “Whatever you need, we’re here for you.”
Abigail seemed less impressed than Josh did, but both children were significantly happier with us than they had been on inauguration night. As though he read my mind, however, Josh decided to bring up the subject. “Whatever happened to the Rene’s Wings that I found the other night? Did you eat them?”
I felt a subtle shift in the room’s mood. As we’d been talking, Bucky had come to stand beside me, and now he and I exchanged a look. “No, of course not.” Thinking about creating a teachable moment, I added, “No one in the White House should ever eat anything
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