***********

"Hello?" I hear someone groan. Actually, groan is a

generous term. Whimper is more accurate.

"Sam? What the hell are you doing asleep in Josh's

office on a Saturday afternoon?"

"Donna?" he squeaks. I just made a grown man squeak.

This day just keeps getting better and better.

"Yes. Is Josh there?"

"No. I haven't seen him since yesterday. Your mother

stole your laptop?"

"Watch it, buster. You're still on my hit list."

"I didn't realize he'd had so many! I swear-"

"Sam, why are you in Josh's office?"

"I was-"

"Hiding from Toby?"

"No!"

"Kathy, then."

"I'm just trying to work in peace! What's so wrong

with that?"

"Well, since you're there, you can do me a favor."

"Do you want me to pick you up from the airport

tonight?" Big Brother Sam comes to the rescue. I

almost hate to punish him when he's being so sweet.

Almost.

"Thanks, but Josh said he would."

"Really? He did?"

"Yeah. Why do you sound so surprised?"

"It's just...nothing." he says quickly, as if he just

remembered that he's not supposed to say something.

"Just what, Sam?"

"He has this thing about picking people up from the

airport. A rule, really."

"What's the rule?"

"He doesn't do it." Oh.

"Oh." Not thinking about it. Not thinking about it.

Picturing little bits of hope being ground into the

dirt by a large Josh foot.

"Yeah." He sounds thoughtful. "What's the favor?"

"Turn Josh's TV to the weather channel."

"Okay." I hear him fumble and curse a bit until he

finds the remote. "Yup?"

"Look at the screen very carefully."

Wait for it...wait for it...

"Donna, where'd Wisconsin go?" Now he's definitely

whimpering.

"Oh, it's still there, Sam. It's just hidden under all

that white cloudy stuff." I wait for a few moments

before what I'm asking him to do dawns on him.

"No way."

"You owe me. This is your penance."

"Can't I just cut off one of my hands with a meat

cleaver instead?"

"How would you type with only one hand?" This is way

too much fun.

"He's going to yell, Donna. A lot."

"You can handle him," I say calmly.

"You know perfectly well that you and Leo are the only

people on earth who can handle him. And sometimes Leo

needs your help. Why can't you tell him?"

Because then it wouldn't be a punishment, now would

it?

"Because he won't listen to me. You're his best

friend. You can handle him."

"He's going to want to come after you."

"Keep him there."

"How?"

"Tie him to a chair or something until Monday. Once he

starts work he'll forget I even exist." Sigh.

"No, he'll be even worse. You got stuck in this

blizzard just to punish me!"

"No, but you know the old saying. Life gives you

lemons-" I can't keep the laughter out of my voice any

longer.

"Shut up!" he snaps, which only makes me laugh harder.



"You'd better not be trying to steal my reputation of

being the rude one, Sam. It takes years to cultivate a

rep like that." I hear a voice say in the background.

A very familiar voice.

Sam yips in surprise and says hurriedly, "I'm not

talking to anyone important."

"Gee, thanks Sam." I quip, realizing that he doesn't

know I can hear his conversation with Josh. Apparently

no one ever taught Sam the little trick of covering

the receiver before you speak.

Oh. Dear. God.

My mind works in very strange ways. It often takes me

a long time to catch on to little things that would be

obvious to other people. Then suddenly all the pieces

come together with a snap and I can see the whole

picture.

I replay yesterday's phone conversation with Josh in

my mind.

Me: My computer was confiscated.

Josh: Confiscated? Are you in prison?

Me: It only seems that way. (I then turned to my

mother, *leaving my damn hand off the damn receiver*)

Could I have a few minutes, please?

Mother: You're dating a politician.

Me: Yes.

Mother: Why?

Me: I'm in love with him.

Josh sounded very strange on the telephone afterwards.

He wanted to know if someone was picking me up from

the airport.

Josh thinks I'm dating a politician.

Worse, Josh thinks I'm in love with a politician.

How can I use this to my advantage?