Mean Woman Blues

campaign speeches, even giving a sermon. The more he and Skip compared, the more excited they got.
    Skip thought she was going to go nuts; it was like having an itchy trigger finger. “Look, let’s go to the airport, get the first flight out to Dallas.”
    “My thought exactly. Just let me set some stuff up with the Dallas guys, have some agents there discreetly check out the employment record he gave the station, maybe his references…”
    Skip stopped him in mid-sentence. “Okay, okay, fine. Meanwhile, I’m going to the airport. I’ll rent a car and find a hotel, meet you when you get there.”
    “Skip, you’ve got to calm down. You’re going to do some damage if you don’t watch out.”
    “Right.” She was standing now. “See you there.”
    Maybe she could calm down on the plane. Meditate or something.

CHAPTER NINETEEN
    David Wright had shaken off his absurd panic, had understood that was probably all it was. It was a mistake not to have whacked Isaac months ago, but now the problem was under control. The glitch, he should say; that was all it was.
    There was another now. Karen had taken her miscarriage unreasonably hard. She was practically a vegetable. Two days after her miscarriage, David got up early and made coffee, toast, and scrambled eggs for his wife. They were the first scrambled eggs he’d ever made in his whole life, but he figured any fool could scramble eggs. And he was right. As far as he could tell, they were no different from anybody else’s scrambled eggs.
    He made a plate for Karen and put it on a tray, on which he’d already placed a rose from their garden. He took it into their bedroom and shook her gently.
    “Come on, sleeping beauty. Breakfast time.”
    All day yesterday, so far as he knew, she’d done nothing but sleep. She opened her eyes. “What is it?”
    “Look. I made you some breakfast.”
    She made a kind of grimace, though she may have meant it as a smile. “Thanks.”
    But she didn’t budge.
    “Karen, now, come on. You can’t stay in bed the rest of your life. Come on and eat now.” He could barely believe the words coming out of his mouth. No more than he could believe what he’d just been doing for half an hour. Earl Errol David Jackson Jacomine Wright had never made so much as a sandwich for himself, much less for a woman. And here he was, begging.
    Karen didn’t answer. It was like she was in a coma or something. “Come on, baby, just a little bit.” He held the toast to her mouth. Her eyes had closed again, and she didn’t even notice.
    “Karen!” He spoke sharply. “You can’t do this.”
    She didn’t answer.
    He left the room to keep from hitting her. That was one thing he absolutely could not do. It was bad enough what she’d told her parents, though her father, thank God, had the sense to believe him instead of his bimbo daughter, but it could not, under any circumstances, happen again.
    What had to happen was, he had to win her back. He came back and sat on the edge of the bed, took her hand.
    To his surprise, she opened her eyes, stretched, and sat up. “David, this is sweet of you.”
    “I need my girl back.” He looked into her WASP-blue eyes, and almost believed what he was about to say. “Karen, I’m nothing without you.”
    She picked up the coffee. “I’ll be okay.” She patted his hand. “Thanks to Dr. Wright.”
    “You promise you’ll get dressed and do something fun today?”
    She nodded. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” Unlike most women, who slept in T-shirts these days (if you believed what you saw in the movies), Karen still wore lacy nightgowns. She had on a white one, and the lace against her white shoulders was unbearably lovely. He absolutely couldn’t believe he’d ended up with a woman like this. The thing was to keep her.
    He left fifteen minutes late, but with a terrific feeling of accomplishment. He was pulling it off. He felt elated. His life was coming together again: Karen was coming out of her coma, Isaac was still in his, and
Mr. Right
had had great response to the banking show.
    Walking through to his office, he noticed that Tracie actually had on a dress. Was it his imagination or was she dressing better these days? He mimed tipping his hat. “Looking lovely this morning.”
    She gave him a wave that was actually a little finger-wiggle. Definitely seductive. “Got a great idea,” she said. “How about overmedication of elders? I’ve got this woman whose mother’s on fifteen