gone, and I was happy just to be out.
As we entered the large main room, there were clusters of parents, staff, and donors chatting away. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the social event, eating cookies and drinking punch. Over the crowd, I heard music, and tilted my head, trying to recognize the tune.
“Are they playing two different CDs at once?” I asked Larry.
“It sounds like jazz and classical guitar.”
A giant compared to me, Larry peered over the crowd to the far side of the room. “No. It’s just jazz on the speakers. There’s a guy playing guitar with some kids over there in the corner.”
“Really?” I listened again. “Yeah, you’re right. That guitar is in the room. Where’s the guy?”
Larry led me where I had a straight line view of the corner. “He’s right over there.”
Like a goof, my mouth dropped open, and I hoped Larry didn’t notice. Encircled by about twenty kids, Michael Grath sat on a folding chair playing guitar. He appeared to be teaching them as he strummed along.
Not realizing I was thinking aloud, I whispered, “That’s right. He’s a musician.”
Larry looked at me and then back at Michael. “You know that guy?”
“Oh. Um. Yeah,” I said, flustered at being caught speaking my thoughts. “He’s in Congress. His name is Michael Grath.”
“Huh. Grath? Why do I know that name?”
“Because his family has been in politics for forever.”
“But you know I hate politics.” He chuckled.
“And that’s how well-known his family name is. Even you’ve heard of it.”
“Well, you know him. Go over and say hi.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t do that.” God, no.
My reply was too quick and I think I even blushed. Even Larry could tell something was up. He’d only ever known me as an elected official who had no problem walking up to anyone, anywhere and saying whatever I liked. A wide grin spread across his face. “You can’t? What do you mean you can’t talk to him? You talk to everyone.”
Ignoring Larry, I grabbed a plastic cup of punch from a wandering waiter. As I said, “Thank you,” Larry said, “You must like him, huh, Clark?”
“No.” I shook my head, but my mouth twitched with a nervous smile. “I don’t. I barely know him.”
“Who says you have to know somebody in order to like them?”
“You and Trish are special.” I rolled my eyes. “Not everyone has a one night stand turn into their partner for life.”
“Forgive me because I know it’s not my place, but you could use a one night stand.”
Was he insane or just politically naive? “Are you kidding me?”
“I didn’t say you should have one,” he said. Then he gave me the same “you’re crazy” look as I’d just given him. “I’m just saying you could use a little male companionship.”
“ That is true.” My smile gave me away.
“So I’m just saying that an initial attraction doesn’t require a lot of background, if you know what I mean…”
“Whatever. He’s good looking. That’s obvious. Can we talk about something else?”
“No way,” he said. “This is great. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”
“Like what?”
“You’re kinda nervous. Like a high school girl. It’s pretty cute.”
Realizing that the more I said, the worse it got, I simply pursed my lips and remained silent. I ignored Larry, but I took one last look at Michael. He was showing a little boy how to position his fingers between the guitar frets. Inside I smiled. Well, Michael doesn’t look like he hates kids—so much for that part of the article.
It didn’t take long for people in the room to recognize Larry, and fans began approaching us. I hung back while he patiently talked with them, especially the kids. I chatted with a few people, but mainly tried to remain stealth and observe Michael. He was joking around with the kids, playing an “all request” game where he would play whatever song they asked for. Some of their requests didn’t work well on guitar,
As we entered the large main room, there were clusters of parents, staff, and donors chatting away. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the social event, eating cookies and drinking punch. Over the crowd, I heard music, and tilted my head, trying to recognize the tune.
“Are they playing two different CDs at once?” I asked Larry.
“It sounds like jazz and classical guitar.”
A giant compared to me, Larry peered over the crowd to the far side of the room. “No. It’s just jazz on the speakers. There’s a guy playing guitar with some kids over there in the corner.”
“Really?” I listened again. “Yeah, you’re right. That guitar is in the room. Where’s the guy?”
Larry led me where I had a straight line view of the corner. “He’s right over there.”
Like a goof, my mouth dropped open, and I hoped Larry didn’t notice. Encircled by about twenty kids, Michael Grath sat on a folding chair playing guitar. He appeared to be teaching them as he strummed along.
Not realizing I was thinking aloud, I whispered, “That’s right. He’s a musician.”
Larry looked at me and then back at Michael. “You know that guy?”
“Oh. Um. Yeah,” I said, flustered at being caught speaking my thoughts. “He’s in Congress. His name is Michael Grath.”
“Huh. Grath? Why do I know that name?”
“Because his family has been in politics for forever.”
“But you know I hate politics.” He chuckled.
“And that’s how well-known his family name is. Even you’ve heard of it.”
“Well, you know him. Go over and say hi.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t do that.” God, no.
My reply was too quick and I think I even blushed. Even Larry could tell something was up. He’d only ever known me as an elected official who had no problem walking up to anyone, anywhere and saying whatever I liked. A wide grin spread across his face. “You can’t? What do you mean you can’t talk to him? You talk to everyone.”
Ignoring Larry, I grabbed a plastic cup of punch from a wandering waiter. As I said, “Thank you,” Larry said, “You must like him, huh, Clark?”
“No.” I shook my head, but my mouth twitched with a nervous smile. “I don’t. I barely know him.”
“Who says you have to know somebody in order to like them?”
“You and Trish are special.” I rolled my eyes. “Not everyone has a one night stand turn into their partner for life.”
“Forgive me because I know it’s not my place, but you could use a one night stand.”
Was he insane or just politically naive? “Are you kidding me?”
“I didn’t say you should have one,” he said. Then he gave me the same “you’re crazy” look as I’d just given him. “I’m just saying you could use a little male companionship.”
“ That is true.” My smile gave me away.
“So I’m just saying that an initial attraction doesn’t require a lot of background, if you know what I mean…”
“Whatever. He’s good looking. That’s obvious. Can we talk about something else?”
“No way,” he said. “This is great. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”
“Like what?”
“You’re kinda nervous. Like a high school girl. It’s pretty cute.”
Realizing that the more I said, the worse it got, I simply pursed my lips and remained silent. I ignored Larry, but I took one last look at Michael. He was showing a little boy how to position his fingers between the guitar frets. Inside I smiled. Well, Michael doesn’t look like he hates kids—so much for that part of the article.
It didn’t take long for people in the room to recognize Larry, and fans began approaching us. I hung back while he patiently talked with them, especially the kids. I chatted with a few people, but mainly tried to remain stealth and observe Michael. He was joking around with the kids, playing an “all request” game where he would play whatever song they asked for. Some of their requests didn’t work well on guitar,
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