Sam smiles.
'Well, you're not going to put him in danger so, yes, whatever you want ma'am, I'm happy to cover your exploits', he tells Jill and listens carefully as she explains her requirement.
Vanesssa helps out too and they execute their ruse expertly. In thirty minutes they're back in the kitchen and Jill dials a number, setting the bundle of copy books they found in the cupboard on the counter top as she waits for an answer.
'Laura, it's Jill, Joe's wife', she says as she begins her conversation with her husband's cousin.
Sam is on duty by the door, ready to alert her if said husband appears before she's ready. He keeps watch as the women chat. Plot would probably be a better description, he thinks.
'All ok?' he asks as he hears the first lady approach when she's done.
'Yeah, thanks. Here's the number and this is the address. Can you see if it's possible? I can go to her if that's ok with you guys, but it might be easier if she could come here. I don't want to be a nuisance though, obviously', Jill explains.
'If she does come here then how will you keep it from the president?' Sam ventures.
'If she agrees then I'll just tell him. It'll be easier that way. But there's no point if it's not going to happen. Joe is such a softie I just know he'll love the idea and then he'll be disappointed if we can't do it', she explains.
Sam takes the paper from her hand. 'I'm on it ma'am. Anything else you need?'
Jill hesitates. They've been given such beautiful produce, such thoughtfully selected items but there is one thing missing.
'Yeah, see if you can find peanut butter somewhere would you please? The crunchy stuff', she says. 'And some more dark chocolate, the darker the better, and a little puffed rice. The cereal stuff will do just fine. I'll whip Joe up a batch of peanut butter cups later', she says.
'Sure ma'am', Sam says, swallowing as his mouth waters. Dr. B's peanut butter cups are fabled within the close protection teams.
She notices the movement, rolls her eyes. 'Get me as much as you can and I'll make it for you all. You can even pick your own chocolate flavor', she says in mock exasperation.
She shakes her head as Sam turns from her, quite obviously delighted at her words. These guys are trained assassins who put themselves in danger every day and yet the sheer delight of knowing she is making treats for them can cause such obvious joy. It really is the small things, she tells herself as Sam positions the agents where he wants them before opening the car door for Vanessa and they go about their errand.
Jill gets busy and whips up a batch of Italian biscuits, first made in her grandmas' kitchen when she was three years old. Joe loves them, they're quick to make and they always look great. The rich red cherries made almost toffee-like after baking, the white of the mixture transformed to a light brown from the oven always reminds her of winter. They're cooling on a tray within twenty-three minutes and in another ten they'll be ready to eat.
Sam and Vanessa were back within an hour, a passenger with them.
Sam knocks on the door of the kitchen and she stands up from the table where she's been making notes from the old copy books.
'Ma'am, this is Mrs. McHale. Mrs. McHale, meet Dr. Biden', Sam introduces the women formally. He walks back out to the car and when he returns he drops the shopping bag on the counter. Passing back he hears the women begin to chat.
'Never mind all of that, my name is Jill', he hears the first lady say, brushing off the use of titles.
'Well, ok, if you're sure. I'm Kate and I'm honored to meet you', the other voice says.
