The Foreign Service Journal, November 2008

I said, “Pamela Groebler hates me. What’s so triumphant about that?” Marnie came up to us and said, “Don’t listen to what that witch says. No one can stand her.” She really said “witch.” I guess that’s how peo- ple talk in Iowa. Sophie Thurston, who used to work at the U.S. Trade Representa- tive’s office, got in line behind us. “I heard that they parked her over here in orientation because the Secretary didn’t want to see her face after she screwed up those Latin American trade negotiations,” she said. As the bus pulled out of the parking lot, Gray started humming atonally. “What are you doing?” I asked. “Shh, I’m finding the key.” A few notes later, he started singing, “Just sit right back and hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip…” By the time we pulled out onto Arlington Boulevard, the bus rang with the sound of 50 voices singing, “If not for the courage of the fearless crew, the Minnow would be lost.” Even Amanda joined in. For someone who supposedly never watched TV, she had an excellent grasp of the lyrics. As we got off at C Street, I asked Gray if he wanted to go out and cele- brate. “No,” he said. “There’s one more thing you need to do.” P had just returned from a weeklong trip to the Middle East. I hadn’t heard from him the whole time. I’d confessed to Gray how much I missed him— P the per- son, not just the excitement of being swept up in his world. I was tired of playing games. “You’re right,” I said. Still wearing my nurse’s uniform, I went into the department, got into the elevator, and pushed seven. That day, for the first time anyone could remember, P left work on time. N O V E M B E R 2 0 0 8 / F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L 73