So now it was just a matter of finding a good local coach and maybe getting a little cortisone in his knee. After that, he could start down the path of answering the question of how fast he could get.

Unfortunately, that path also led to a more complicated question. Would it be enough? Home. Family. Racing. Building out the gym. Cocktails with the neighbors. And then there was the long view. If he was setting a course to actually survive into old age, what then? Knee replacements? Prostate problems? Breaking the thumbs of Anna’s first boyfriend for bringing her home past curfew? Fuck. Golf?

Too much reflection for one day, he decided. Introspection was a skill he was going to have to work up to. Rain was forecasted for the afternoon and he wanted to get in a quick workout before it rolled in. Then maybe a piece of the pie Claudia had cooling in the kitchen.

A very small piece.

His phone rang and he reached out a greasy hand to check the identity of the caller. After a quick wipe of his fingers on his shop apron, he picked up.

“Hello, Irene.”

“How’s Africa?”

“Sixty degrees and sunny. For the next few hours anyway.”

“And the ladies?”

“All good.”

“I’m happy to hear it. What about you?”

“Living the dream.”

“Should I believe that? Probably not. Now tell me. What did you think of the president?”

Rapp considered the question for a moment. “I think Mike has him pegged. Smart, ambitious, charismatic. And he likes the chair.”

“I understand that you had an opportunity to meet Catherine, too.”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“My general impression is that she’s not a woman to be fucked with.”

“Agreed. Perhaps even less so than her husband. If I had to guess, I’d say that she’s positioning herself to follow in his footsteps. She’ll only be fifty if he serves two terms.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“So, do you see yourself as having a part in their administration?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this is all about them and not the country. To some extent, they’re all like that, though. Are the Cooks worse? Or was I just used to Josh Alexander? I was pretty young when I first met him.”

“And now you’re older and wiser.”

“Or just more cynical. But the country needs someone to lead it out of the ditch it’s run itself into. And that’s going to take some power. Maybe Anthony Cook is the right man for the job.”

“Or precisely the wrong one,” Kennedy countered. “Power’s like a drug. In the right dose, it saves lives. Too much, though, and it becomes deadly.”

“I guess the next three and a half years will tell.”

“You sound a bit disconnected for a man who was standing in the Oval Office a couple of days ago.”

“I’m trying.”