Resist

I grabbed the bag and dumped a generous amount on my dish. “Deck?” I asked.

“Yes. The lights are already on.”

We walked outside and sat at the small bistro table.

“Wait,” Greer ran inside. “I forgot the wine.” She returned with a bottle of red and two glasses.

“I need that,” I groaned.

“Bad day?” she asked.

“Exhausting day. But I think a good day.” I twirled the pasta on my fork. “Thanks for dinner.”

“No problem. I was starving. We seriously needed to go to the grocery store.”

I was too busy stuffing my mouth to agree.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in two days. What’s going on at the capitol?”

She sighed. “Everything is on hold.”

“What do you mean by everything?” I poured two huge goblets to the top for us.

“The senators on the committee can’t agree on a contract. They are at each other’s throats. No one is budging.”

“What kind of contract is it? Am I allowed to ask that?”

She smiled. “Are you going to sell my secret intelligence information?”

I tilted my head. “To the highest bidder.” I grinned.

“It’s a weapons contract. We’re outsourcing it of course. There are five private companies in the running for it right now. The committee has to choose one before they can push budget numbers forward to the Senate for final approval.”

I nodded. “Wow. Sounds intense.”

“It is.” She took a sip of wine. “And I’ve been working my ass off for them, researching plant locations, how many workers would be involved, what kind of contracts the companies have with other countries. It is endless. I basically have their shoe sizes in a file if someone needed that.”

I laughed. “Could come in handy if you need someone to make…” I looked at her. “What do they make?”

“Air to ground weaponry.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It’s serious. These are billion-dollar contracts.”

My eyes lifted. “A billion dollars?”

“Many many billions. It’s the kind of money that’s inconceivable.”

She sank into her seat. “Please tell me about all the good you’re doing in the world. I need something inspiring.”

“I don’t know how inspiring I am. If I help one person, there are ten more right behind her who need even more. I can’t make a dent here.” I shook my head. “It feels like I’m spinning my wheels in that clinic.”

Greer sat forward. The weariness on her face lifted for a second. “While I’m at the Capitol working on weapons, you are out doing actual good. If you help one woman in that clinic, you’ve done something. Don’t let the numbers depress you.”

“How can they not? It’s hopeless. That’s how I felt when I left the clinic today. Hopeless.”

“Because, you have to believe in paying it forward. At least you used to.” She stared hard into my eyes. “It might not be in the same way, but for every woman you help, she’s going to turn around and pull up another woman behind her. Sometime in her life she’s going to do that.”