“What? Are you seriously warning me that the vigilantes can penetrate the White House? Is that what you’re telling me? Are you telling me they’re smart enough to outwit the best of the best? It’s simply not possible. What are they going to do, hold a gun to my head and make me sign a pardon and then we’re all going to disappear in a puff of smoke?”

Lizzie was pleased at the look of pure horror on the president’s face. She continued to smile. “I said no such thing. That’s your interpretation. Although the ladies did take on your Secret Service and come out on top. And if I remember correctly, that little neighborhood White House luncheon you sponsored didn’t go over so well either. Your guests were more impressed with their ride home, compliments of the vigilantes, than they were with your luncheon, the photo op, and their souvenirs.”

Martine Connor got up and carried the two luncheon plates to the sink in the main part of the kitchen. She scraped the plates and turned on the garbage disposal. Lizzie listened to the loud clunking noise followed by a shrieking, grinding sound.

“The plumbing leaves a lot to be desired,” Martine said.

“You could call a plumber,” Lizzie volunteered.

“It doesn’t work that way here. In the real world, yes. I can’t even describe to you what it’s like living here. I can’t step out and go to the drugstore to get shampoo. If I want to do that, I have to notify the Service a month in advance. Then they have to empty out the store so I can shop. I can’t go to a bookstore. I can’t drive a car. I can’t use my credit cards or carry money. If they ever find out I have that phone, they’ll probably pack me off to Outer Mongolia.

“You know what I miss, Lizzie? I miss going out to the mailbox for my mail. I miss all those catalogs I used to get by the pound. I always looked forward to Sunday afternoon, when I’d browse through them and order something. You know what else? I made potato pancakes one day. They came up here on the run and said I was stinking up the White House and not to do it again. They fucking told me I can’t make potato pancakes! It was the onion I put in them. I’m not excusing my language either.”

For all of a minute, Lizzie almost felt sorry for her old friend. Almost. Then she burst out laughing. “Remember that old saying, ‘Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it.’ You wished for this, we made it happen for you at the eleventh hour, and now you have to live with it. And you have to honor your debt. That’s the bottom line.”