Drowning Barbie Read Online Free PDF Page A

added little to the décor. He had a bookcase of his favorites. Ike did not collect books. He figured if he had no plans to ever read the thing a second time, he’d pass it on to someone who might. His bookcase contained, then, a couple of dozen volumes, mostly nonfiction and two-thirds of them biographies of leaders, famous and infamous. He’d purchased a flat-screen TV which had not yet been connected to cable. He used it to watch old movies he streamed from Netflix and rented DVDs. Also he had some plates, pots and pans, and a second small freezer he kept stocked with frozen dinners, and that was pretty much it. So, aside from the books, there was precious little to move over to the president’s cottage. Actually, “cottage” diminished the building. “Mansion” more nearly covered it. Downstairs was largely given over to receptions and meetings. Ruth occupied an apartment carved out of the upstairs. It was barely larger than his, although there were guest rooms for visiting dignitaries. Fitting in the bookcase might be a challenge.
    The larger question resonated around the minutia of marriage and cohabitation. Did he really want to share a bathroom? Was he ready for things like loofahs and body wash on the tub’s sill? He was a bar soap man and things that came out of squeeze bottles made him nervous. Was she the sort who would use his razor in places and for purposes it was not designed? The truth about marriage and its many failures, he thought had more to do with the everyday frictions over trivia, than any lack of passion, love, or communication.
    He sat back and ran the thought through his head once again and laughed. Bullshit. You adjusted or you installed a second bath—problem solved. Marriage was a state he’d only tasted, never completely devoured. He’d leave heavy analysis to Abigail Van Buren.
    Charlie Garland called Ike around midnight.
    â€œSo, you have done the deed.”
    â€œWhich deed would that be, Charlie?”
    â€œLas Vegas, the Budding Rose Wedding Chapel. That deed.”
    â€œIs there anything about me you do not know? Charlie, if I didn’t know you better, I’d swear you’re having a bromance with me and that thought is really scary. Why in hell were you snooping into my time in the west?”
    â€œI am your guardian angel, your Clarence. I wanted to get my wings. Your wedding bells secured them for me.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œ It’s a Wonderful Life, don’t you remember? Jimmy Stewart, or rather George Bailey thinks all is lost, his career as the town do-gooder finished and—”
    â€œI got it. You as Clarence Odbody, the postulant angel, is way too much of a stretch, Charlie. You are the villainous Henry Potter, if you are anybody.”
    â€œI am wounded. I have to ask, are you ready for this move?”
    â€œReady? How do you mean?”
    â€œYou were a single guy for a long time. Then, you married Eloise after what…a twenty-minute romance?”
    â€œIt wasn’t twenty minutes.”
    â€œClose. Eloise died and Ruth helped you heal. Are you sure that isn’t all there is to this latest move?”
    â€œCharlie, you are not my mother, you are not even a good psychologist. Stop prying.”
    â€œVery well, if you insist. Moving along, the director wants to know if your nuptials will temper Ruth’s chronic enmity toward the nation’s select service. If so, does this raise the possibility that you could be tempted to help us out on, say, a consultant basis from time to time?”
    â€œThe contrary, my friend. At her request and my concurrence, you have been removed from my speed dial. Your name may not be spoken in her presence. You are permanently banned from the premises. Before you ask, that is because she dislikes being caught in a cross fire especially when the bullets are real. She wishes never to be so again. And so say I. Done and done,