Jess sat with his hands clasped between his knees, the seat belt tight across his chest.
“Damn rain,” she said. “I was going stir crazy.” “Yes'm,” he said happily. “You, too, huh?”
She gave him a quick smile. He felt dizzy from the closeness.
He nodded. “Have you ever been to the National Gallery?” “No, ma'am.”
He had never even been to Washington before, but he hoped she wouldn't ask him that.
She smiled at him again. “Is this your first trip to an art gallery?”
“Yes'm.” “Great,” she said. “My life has been worthwhile after all.”
He didn't understand her, but he didn't care. He knew she was happy to be with him, and that was enough to know.
Even in the rain he could make out the landmarks, looking surprisingly the way the books had pictured them—
the Lee Mansion high on the hill, the bridge, and twice around the circle,
so he could get a good look at Abraham Lincoln looking out across the city,
the White House and the Monument and at the other end the Capitol.
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