“Yeah, well, guess who’s covering that shindig? Yours truly, and Espinosa will be snapping away all night, so be warned. Everyone in this town will be there, and I do mean everyone. Should be interesting.”

“What about us?” Jack shot back. “Is it just the girls, or do we get to go, too? I hate those damn things, but if Moss is going to be there, then I want to be there, too.”

“That, my friend, you have to take up with Myra and Annie. All I know is that Annie bought a table. I’m not sure if they seat eight or ten. At fifty grand a pop, that’s as in per person, that’s a lot of bread to shell out,” Ted called over his back. “Another thing. Security will be tighter than a duck’s ass. Secret Service all over the place.”

Jack laughed, then Harry laughed. “We got into the White House once, or did you forget that, Mr. Reporter.” Jack guffawed. “Even with all those tight-duck-ass Secret Service agents milling around.”

“Oh, yeahhhh, I did forget about that. So, guess that means we’ll see you there whatever Annie and Myra say. By the way, did I tell you that the kid bought a table under the Welmed name?”

“Dennis bought a table!” Maggie shrieked. “I swear, that kid never ceases to amaze me. Plus, he’s a damn good reporter. Wow! Well, Jack, your problem, along with the rest of the guys’, is now solved. You will be at Dennis’s table partaking of rubber chicken, cold, baked potatoes, limp salad, and coffee that tastes like it came out of someone’s rain boots. I’m pulling your leg here. We posted the menu in the Post yesterday. Because this affair is a children’s benefit, so is the menu. You wanna hear it?”

Jack wasn’t sure if he did or not. “Go for it?”

“Pizza. You know, the kind you make at home with toasted English muffins; SpaghettiOs, the ones with the little meatballs; sloppy joes, the President’s personal favorite sandwich in the whole world; weenies; apple juice; and your choice, oh happy days, Pop-Tarts or Little Debbie chocolate cupcakes. I, for one, can’t wait,” Maggie said, giggling.

“All that for fifty grand a pop. And I bet the First Lady got it all donated,” Jack grumbled.

“Yep.”

“Okay, folks, we are here at the farm. Who’s going to carry in Sleeping Beauty? I’m thinking the ladies will want her stashed in the cell next to the war room,” Ted said.

After a five-minute discussion, it was decided Espinosa would carry in Jane Petrie, aka Sleeping Beauty, and Ted would carry in her Gucci suitcase.

Harry ran to the kitchen door and opened it. Maggie yelled, “We’re home.” There was no response to her happy greeting.

Chapter 13

Chapter 13