"Not me personally."

"You were shot, Joshua.  It doesn't get more personal than that."

"I'm fine."

"You're using a walker, my dear boy.  You're forty-one."

"I am not using a walker."

"Josh, what's that metal thing with wheels that you're pushing along in front of you?"

"Okay, fine, but it's only because I'm winded."

"Winded."

"Yes, winded.  You know, like runners are a little winded after they run a marathon."

"Josh?"

"Yes."

"Did you or did you not just get out of bed, walk around the couch twice, and then take a twenty minute rest?"

"I'm fine.  Really."

"You don't look fine."

"Mom, you're not really helping my image."

"Your image?  You're the one using the walker.  I'm seventy years old; do you see me using a walker?"

"I'm saying Leo's coming by tonight and I want to convince him that I'm ready to go back to work."

"What?"

"Leo's--"

"I heard you, I just really couldn't believe something that stupid came out of your mouth.  Are you sure you didn't cheat on your SATs?"

"Mom!"

"Joshua, you were shot three weeks ago.  You're winded after two laps around your living room, and you're using a walker.  Do you really think you're ready to go back to work?"

"Yes."

"At the White House?"

"Yes."

"At a time when the doctors specifically said to avoid unnecessary stress?"

"It's not unnecessary stress, Mom, it's my job."

"You're not ready."

"I am."

"You're not."

"Mom--"

"Josh, if you had some nine-to-five job in some posh law office--"

"Dad's office was not posh."

"Believe me when I tell you I'm aware of that.  It was a struggle getting him to move from that hellhole with the paneling.  You remember the one?"

"Wasn't that the place with no windows?"

"On Fourteenth Street?  It had windows.  Well, really just the one."

"And Dad left the blinds closed all the--"

"You're not going to misdirect me, Joshua.  If you were working at a job like most of America that involved regular hours and meals, I would consider it."

"You would consider it?  I'm forty-one years old!"

"And when you can take a shower without my help--"

"I thought we were never going to speak of that again."

"--then you can make your own decisions about work."

"Mom, if I decide to go back to work--"

"Then I'll have a little chat with Leo.  The man owes me many, many favors.  I'm pretty sure your supervisor has to sign off on your return to work, doesn't he?"

"You are an evil woman."

"Not evil, crafty."

"I want to go back to work!"

"Are you really going to pout now?"

"No."

"Yeah, I can see how you're not pouting by the way your arms are crossed and that lip of yours is jutting out."

"I'm not pouting."

"Josh, when you're a little stronger--"

"I'm strong."

"You are, my dear boy.  When you're physically stronger, I promise you can go back to work with my blessing."

"Mom--"

"Joshua, don't argue with me."

"Yes, Mom."

THE END

10.05.01