A Song for Julia

incident. But I’d had enough. I leaned forward, too, and met his eyes. I smiled, not sincerely, and said in a conversational tone, “I’d rather eat live maggots than speak with you. Why don’t we just pretend there’s no one sitting across from us, and this dinner can go well for everyone else?”
    Mrs. Bush covered her mouth and tittered, almost an outright laugh. My mother looked like she was going to slide underneath the table and die. Score one for Laura Bush. I liked her now, too.
    My father, sitting next to Harry on one side and the President on the other, stopped speaking mid-sentence. His eyes widened in shock, his face going a little bit pale. The President grinned, leaned close to my dad, and whispered something. I don’t think my dad thought it was funny, but President Bush’s shoulders shook. Then he turned to me. “Miss Thompson … it’s Julia, right?”
    I smiled at him. “Yes, Mr. President.”
    “Tell me what your fellow students think of the situation with Iraq.”
    I thought about the question. “I think at Harvard most of them are indifferent, Mr. President. They’re too busy being over-privileged and competing with each other. On the other hand, a good friend of mine from Boston? His father’s National Guard unit has already been activated, and they’re going to Kuwait.”
    The President nodded. “I see. And what about you?”
    “Me, sir?”
    “Yes. I’m always curious what people think.”
    My father, at this point, had closed his eyes. He couldn’t help but be aware that I’d had a role, however small, in the huge protest here in Washington back in October.
    “Honestly, Mr. President, the impression I have from the news is that we’re going to war with Iraq no matter what happens. I think that’s a shame.”
    The President nodded. “Well, then. Let’s hope you’re wrong. I have high hopes for your father’s mission over there. All Saddam has to do is turn over his weapons of mass destruction, and no war. See? Simple.” Then he leaned over the table, planting one elbow on it as he spoke with me. “It’s good to hear an opinion. I don’t have many people around me who actually tell me what they think. Are you sure you aren’t interested in government service?”
    “Thank you, sir, but no. I spent most of my life going from one post to another following the Foreign Service. I’m headed in a different direction now.”
    Mrs. Bush chimed in, “You know, with all this talk of war, sometimes it makes me sad that no one pays attention to George’s domestic agenda. He has a lot of important ideas for tackling domestic issues.”
    My eyes darted to Harry, and I blurted out, “Like statutory rape?”
    My mother gasped, and Harry went absolutely still. Mrs. Bush simply looked puzzled, “Well, I suppose, but I had in mind priorities like the economy.”
    “Oh, I see.” Carrie was right. I shouldn’t have had two gin and tonics. I’d substitute wine instead. I turned slightly in my seat, waving to one of the white-jacketed waiters standing around the edge of the table. He looked at me, and I pointed at my empty glass. It was going to be a long, long night, and I didn’t have enough fuel.
    Alexandra said, “What’s statue rape?”
    My mother, teeth clenched together, replied, “I don’t think that’s really an appropriate topic for the dinner table, Julia.”
    Whatever. I’d pretty much had enough of whatever my mother thought. I was going to remain civil for the rest of the dinner here in the White House, at least as much as I could imagine. But she’d better not say anything to me in private, or I was seriously going to go off on her. I mattered. It was time she knew it.
    Luckily, the remainder of the dinner stayed relatively peaceful. After a fierce warning look from his father, Harry didn’t attempt to speak to me again, and shortly thereafter, the staff brought out dinner. I concentrated on eating and keeping my mouth shut before I said something really embarrassing. My head was swimming from the alcohol, and if nothing else, I didn’t want to set a bad example for Alexandra. She was really a sweet kid and had no clue what was going on with me anyway.
    Carrie, in solidarity with me, completely ignored Harry. Which left him to talk with my father and his, as well as President Bush. The four of them seemed to get along well. My father and Ambassador Easton laughed at the President’s jokes, even when they weren’t funny, which was most of them. At