Nixon came on at nine.

Please, Maria thought, let the torment end now.

Nixon was sitting in the Oval Office, a blue curtain behind him, the Stars and Stripes on his right and the president’s flag on his left. The deep, gravelly voice began immediately. “This is the thirty-seventh time I have spoken to you from this office, where so many decisions have been made that shaped the history of this nation.”

The camera began a slow zoom in. The president was wearing a familiar blue suit and tie. “Throughout the long and difficult period of Watergate, I have felt it was my duty to persevere, to make every possible effort to complete the term of office to which you elected me. In the past few days, however, it has become evident to me that I no longer have a strong enough political base in the Congress to justify continuing that effort.”

George said excitedly: “That’s it! He’s resigning!”

Maria grabbed his arm in excitement.

The cameras pulled in for a close-up. “I have never been a quitter,” Nixon said.

“Oh, shit,” said George, “is he going back on it?”

“But, as president, I must put the interests of America first.”

“No,” said Maria, “he’s not going back.”

“Therefore I shall resign the presidency effective at noon tomorrow. Vice President Ford will be sworn in as president at that hour in this office.”

“Yes!” George punched the air. “He’s done it! He’s gone!”

What Maria felt was not so much triumph as relief. She had woken up from a nightmare. In the dream, the highest officers in the land had been crooks, and no one could do anything to stop them.

But in real life they had been found out and shamed and deposed. She had a sense of safety, and realized that for two years now she had not felt that America was a secure place to be.

Nixon admitted no faults. He did not say that he had committed crimes, told lies, and tried to put the blame on other people. Turning the pages of his speech, he referred to his triumphs: China, arms limitation talks, Middle East diplomacy. He finished on a defiant note of pride.

“It’s over,” Maria said in a tone of incredulity.

“We won,” said George, and he put his arms around her.

Then, without thinking about it, they were kissing.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

It was not a sudden burst of passion. They kissed playfully, exploring each other’s lips and tongues. George tasted of wine. It was like discovering a fascinating topic of conversation they had previously overlooked. Maria found herself smiling and kissing at the same time.

However, their embrace soon turned passionate. Maria’s pleasure became so intense it made her breathe hard. She unbuttoned George’s blue shirt so that she could feel his chest. She had almost forgotten what it was like to have a man’s bony frame in her arms. She relished his big hands touching the private places of her body, so different from her own small soft fingers.