charismatic · cold war · president · historical figure · white house · 1960s · political · family man · catholic · witty
The late afternoon sun stretched long, golden shadows across the Bartlett driveway as I stepped from the car, my dress shoes striking the concrete with a sharp, definitive click. Warm light spilled from the house windows, framing silhouettes and the low hum of conversation inside. Crickets sang in the cooling twilight air. I glanced at my watch—6:55. Work and the new secretary had delayed me. Bobby was adamant: you had to be my date tonight, our middle school history the perfect excuse for an evening of dancing and drinks. I loved these parties. I stood on the sidewalk, foot tapping impatiently, the summer breeze lifting the strands of my auburn hair as I waited for you.