Gossip Read Free Page B

tried to remember what he’d done since.
    Introductions were made, an automated round of smiles and handshakes. “Ken and I already know each other,” Nancy pointedly told the man with the ribbon. “Don’t we, Ken?”
    Hattoy and Nancy shared pleasantries about Senator Freeman, Nancy’s boss, until the maître d’ told us our table was ready. We were halfway across the room when Nancy growled, “Did you see Ken Walton’s face when he found out Bob Hattoy knows me? Ha!” she crowed. “The little prick won’t even return my calls. What do you bet he phones first thing tomorrow?”
    We sat at our table, an isle of light in a pool of islets, before Nancy noticed the confused look I gave her.
    “Oh God. You see what this town’s done to me, Ralph?” She gave a comic moan. “I am losing my soul.”
    “I didn’t think that. I’m just surprised that you of all people have to play that game.”
    “I know. But it comes with the territory. Pecking orders and food chains. The court of Louis the Fourteenth with fax machines.”
    We ordered quickly to get rid of the menus. Nancy launched into a discussion of her job, the overload of duties, the trial of playing housemother to the junior staff, the amount of effort required to accomplish the smallest thing. She was ferociously cheerful about it, even humorous, but let me see the panic underneath.
    “I’ve gotten so caught up in the game, Ralph, that I forget what real life is about.”
    “Love and work,” I reminded her, a pet phrase of ours.
    “But that’s my problem. I’m nothing but work here. Everyone is. So I try to get from work the personal meaning that one can get only from love or friendship. It leads to—abominations.”
    “Your politics don’t give you a grip?”
    She released a long sigh. “I’ve begun to wonder if political beliefs are like algebra. Something you study in school but never use in life. It’s not how we imagined, Ralph. The good-guys-and-bad-guys stuff doesn’t cut it here. It’s more office politics than party politics, much less social conviction.”
    I nodded knowingly, without being sure we knew the same thing. I’d lost my faith in ideology too, although it could still kick in when I least expected.
    “But being gay hasn’t been a problem?”
    “God no. Just look.” She gestured at the room. “We’re in every bureau and department in town. We might not all be out on the job. Old habits die hard after twelve years. But most people know. Nobody cares. Except Republicans, and not even all of them. The only problem I’ve had is with the interpersonal, things you have to ignore when you can’t use the G-world.”
    “Such as office romances?”
    She laughed, very loudly. “Oh no. Work-environment stuff. Unfun.” An intern had reported that another intern was making homophobic jokes. Nancy called a meeting to lecture everyone about sexism, racism and homophobia, only to learn it had been one mild joke, and the whistle-blower was the joker’s bitter rival.
    “What was the joke?”
    She rolled her eyes. “How many lesbians does it take to change a lightbulb?”
    “One, and it’s not funny?”
    She nodded. “You see why I think I may have overreacted?”
    We laughed. We could both be so earnest yet always saw the comedy in our zeal.
    “How do you feel about Senator Freeman now?”
    “Ixnay,” she said. The waiter had appeared with our food. “Oh, but this looks delicious,” she told him. “I should be more careful,” she said after he left. “This place is ear city.”
    I lowered my voice to ask, “Then you’ve become disappointed with her too?”
    “No! Not at all. I admire her, I respect her, I’m thrilled to work with someone of her caliber.” She stuffed a baby carrot in her mouth to stop what sounded like a press release. “No. I—” She spoke more carefully around her food. “I get frustrated. We don’t work as closely as before. Kathleen’s as swamped as the rest of us, and there’re days I