“This way.”
We took the escalator to the street level. It was quiet.
“Now will you tell me where we are going?” I urged.
“Let’s walk.” Vaughn led me along the sidewalk.
The Washington Monument emerged on our right, towering silently straight into the night. I paused for a moment to take it in, but we turned our backs to it and continued at an easy pace for several blocks. I also realized that we were putting more distance between us and the White House. That had been my first guess for Vaughn’s mysterious night stroll.
As we neared the water, Vaughn’s grip tightened around my palm. The lights from the memorial shimmered on the dark calm of the rippling waves. There was almost no movement at all on the water.
It was dark under the canopy of trees, but as we rounded the circle and made our way to the front columns, I realized why Vaughn had brought me on this route. It was breathtaking.
When we finally stopped walking, he stood back and crossed his arms. “What do you think?”
“I’ve never been here. I’ve seen it fifty times from the road or in pictures, but I’ve never actually been here. It’s beautiful.”
He winked. “It’s my favorite spot.”
We walked together toward the stone steps. “Why the Jefferson Memorial?” I asked. “Not Lincoln? Not the Washington Monument?”
He shook his head with confidence. “One reason—the quiet.”
He was right. There was no one else here.
He took the steps and I followed after him, trying to pick up on every detail of why this place was special to him. Why he had chosen to bring me here instead of trying to impress me with high-end dinner reservations.
“Everyone thinks Lincoln is the place you want to go if you need to think. If you need the wisdom of a man faced with the greatest challenges and adversity. That’s where people go to wade through their moral conscience.”
“It’s not the right one?” I questioned.
“No. Lincoln’s sculpture mastered that on its own. If you look at him, he is already posed to think for you. To take dilemmas of morality from you. This one … this one is different.”
I spun slowly on my heels, rotating just like the rotunda we were standing inside. “And this is where you come to think?”
“Maybe.” He smirked.
“I like it. It’s really beautiful.” I moved toward one of the stone markings on the wall that was inscribed with Jefferson’s quotes. The carvings stretched several feet above my head.
There was a romantic eeriness wrapping us. Vaughn watched as I moved along the walls, absorbing the words.
“I thought with your appreciation for law it might be meaningful to you.”
I whipped around. “You did?”
“Aren’t you the girl who’s going to change the world around here?”
I closed my eyes. “I’m the girl who used to think that.”
“What happened to her?” The deepness in his voice held me.
“She’s trying to figure things out,” I admitted. “Trying to start over.”
He shoved his hands in the front of his pockets. “Then maybe you need a place here where you can think in silence.”
I smiled. “Maybe I do.”
“Let me show you something else. You’ll like this story.” He tugged my hand.