The Invitation
Chapter One
On a warm, overcast morning in July, the start of another work day begins in the nation’s capital. The morning brings those familiar, daily routines, typical for many who live and work in a large metropolitan area. People going to their respective jobs, commuters in transit, and all the appointed scheduled regularity that surrounds modern life starts again, as Washington, D.C., like any other city, readies itself for a new day.
Washingtonians, long accustomed to seeing government vehicles carrying officials from place to place, barely notice the black limousine as it passes them in transit to its destination. Turning on to Reservoir Road, it arrives at Georgetown University Medical Center, and slowly makes its way to the back entrance of the hospital. After stopping, two men quickly emerge and take their positions flanking the entrance door. Moments later a woman comes out to greet the expected visitor. As the back door of the limousine opens, an elegantly dressed figure is greeted and ushered into the hospital, preceded by a member of the security team. Once inside the building, their short walk is punctuated with amiable greetings from well-wishers, and the celebrated visitor reciprocates in kind. After entering an office room she is told that Doctor Phelps is on his way. As she sits waiting, her thoughts are edgy and more than a little apprehensive, contemplating what the Doctor will say to her. As the door swings open, the avuncular smile and familiar voice of her trusted physician reassures her.
“Hello, Mrs. Myers, How are you?”
“I’m fine Dr. Phelps. How are you doing? Busy, I’ll bet.”
“I am, but never too busy to see you,” he says as he takes a seat.
“Thank you, that’s very kind. I hope you don’t mind me coming to see you like this. It’s more confidential.”
“Not at all, whatever you’re comfortable with. Well, Mrs. Myers, we found nothing abnormal in any of the tests we ran on you. You’re perfectly healthy.”
“And what’s the bad news?” she asks.
“We still haven’t found out why you can’t conceive.”
“Hmm…So where does that leave us?”
“Are you asking my personal opinion?”
“Yes.”
“Mrs. Myers, Your case is very unusual. You’re married to the President of the United States. I can’t think of a more stressful job. He has to be preoccupied. He seems to be everywhere. It’s a wonder you have any time together at all. Here’s what it comes down to. There are only two sides to this equation, you, and your husband, and as far as I can determine you’re in excellent health.”
“So is my husband, Doctor. He’s been healthy all his life.”
“Yes, but now he’s under a lot of pressure. Isn’t he?”
“It’s not my husband.”
“Have you ever considered artificial insemination?”
“That’s out of the question, Doctor. If it became known that we couldn’t conceive naturally, it would reflect badly on the President. I simply won’t put him through that.”
“I understand. You could adopt.”
“That’s our second option.”
“It would set a wonderful example.”
“I know that, but I want to have a child with my husband. Does that sound selfish?”
“Not at all; it’s normal.”
“There’s another reason I want us to conceive.”
“What’s that?”
“I have an intense curiosity to see what our child would be like. I mean, what traits he would inherit. My husband must have perfect genes. He amazes me sometimes.”
“What do you mean?”
“About three months ago I was walking by the library. It was late, around midnight. I heard music. I looked in and saw him playing the violin. It was beautiful. I had no idea he had that skill. I’ve been married to ̓him for years, and that was the first time I heard him play.”
“Did you ask him about it?”
“He said he learned in college. What he was playing was very complicated. How do you do that?”
“I don’t know.”
“He has the most impressive intellect I’ve ever encountered. Genes like that should be passed on. I mean it. I would bear him as many children as possible. I would.”
“Well, I’m sure you’d be happy with one right now. Has your husband had a physical lately?”
“About five months ago, everything checked out normal.”
“When is the last time you both had a weekend just to yourselves?”
“It’s been a while. Three or four months ago, maybe more.”
“What I think you need to do is to take the time, not try to find the time, take the time for both of you to be together, and be patient. That’s my advice. And remember, those tests could’ve revealed a problem. They didn’t. You’re a healthy woman. That’s a positive outcome.”