The Best Laid Plans

He looked at her and thought about the young girl who had come to him a few years earlier. "I'm here for a job. Of course, I already have a job here. It's more like a transfer, isn't it?...I can start right away...." And she had more than fulfilled her promise. If I ever had a daughter...

"Your boss wants to meet you," Matt told Dana.

They headed for Leslie Stewart's office.

The two women stood there appraising each other. "Welcome back, Dana."

"Thank you."

"Sit down." Dana and Matt took chairs opposite Leslie's desk.

"I want to thank you for getting me out of there," Dana said.

"It must have been hell. I'm sorry." Leslie looked at Matt. "What are we going to do with her now, Matt?"

He looked at Dana. "We're about to reassign our White House correspondent. Would you like the job?" It was one of the most prestigious television assignments in the country.

Dana's face lit up. "Yes. I would."

Leslie nodded. "You've got it."

Dana rose. "Well - thank you, again."

"Good luck."

Dana and Matt left the office. "Let's get you settled," Matt said. He walked her over to the television building, where the whole staff was waiting to greet her. It took Dana fifteen minutes to work her way through the crowd of well-wishers.

"Meet your new White House correspondent," Matt said to Philip Cole.

"That's great. I'll show you to your office."

"Have you had lunch yet?" Matt asked Dana.

"No, I - "

"Why don't we get a bite to eat?"

The executive dining room was on the fifth floor, a spacious, airy room with two dozen tables. Matt led Dana to a table in the corner, and they sat down.

"Miss Stewart seemed very nice," Dana said.

Matt started to say something. "Yeah. Let's order."

"I'm not hungry."

"You haven't had lunch?"

"No."

"Did you have breakfast?"

"No."

"Dana - when did you eat last?"

She shook her head. "I don't remember. It's not important."

"Wrong. I can't have our new White House correspondent starving herself to death."

The waiter came over to the table. "Are you ready to order, Mr. Baker?"

"Yes." He scanned the menu. "We'll start you off light. Miss Evans will have a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich." He looked over at Dana. "Pastry or ice cream?"

"Noth - "

"Pie a la mode. And I'll have a roast beef sandwich."

"Yes, sir."

Dana looked around. "All this seems so unreal. Life is what's happening over there, Matt. It's horrible. No one here cares."

"Don't say that. Of course we care. But we can't run the world, and we can't control it. We do the best we can."

"It's not good enough," Dana said fiercely.

"Dana..." He stopped. She was far away, listening to distant sounds that he could not hear, seeing grisly sights that he could not see. They sat in silence until the waiter arrived with their food.

"Here we are."

"Matt, I'm not really hung - "

"You're going to eat," Matt commanded.

Jeff Connors was making his way over to the table. "Hi, Matt."

"Jeff."

Jeff Connors looked at Dana. "Hello."

Matt said, "Dana, this is Jeff Connors. He's the Tribune's sports editor."

Dana nodded.

"I'm a big fan of yours, Miss Evans. I'm glad you got out safely."

Dana nodded again.

Matt said, "Would you like to join us, Jeff?"

"Love to." He took a chair and said to Dana, "I tried never to miss any of your broadcasts. I thought they were brilliant."

Dana mumbled, "Thank you."

"Jeff here is one of our great athletes. He's in the Baseball Hall of Fame."

Another small nod.

"If you happen to be free," Jeff said, "on Friday, the Orioles are playing the Yankees in Baltimore. It's - "

Dana turned to look at him for the first time. "That sounds really exciting. The object of the game is to hit the ball and then run around the field while the other side tries to stop you?"

He looked at her warily. "Well - "

Dana got to her feet, her voice trembling. "I've seen people running around a field - but they were running for their lives because someone was shooting at them and killing them!" She was near hysteria. "It wasn't a game, and it - it wasn't about a stupid baseball."

The other people in the room were turning to stare at her.

"You can go to hell," Dana sobbed. And she fled from the room.

Jeff turned to Matt. "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to - "

"It wasn't your fault. She hasn't come home yet. And God knows she's entitled to a bad case of nerves."

Dana hurried into her office and slammed the door. She went to her desk and sat down, fighting hysteria. Oh, God. I've made a complete fool of myself. They'll fire me, and I deserve it. Why did I attack that man? How could I have done anything so awful? I don't belong here. I don't belong anywhere anymore. She sat there with her head on the desk, sobbing.

A few minutes later, the door opened and someone came in. Dana looked up. It was Jeff Connors, carrying a tray with a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich and a slice of pie a la mode.

"You forgot your lunch," Jeff said mildly.

Dana wiped away her tears, mortified. "I - I want to apologize. I'm so sorry. I had no right to - "

"You had every right," he said quietly. "Anyway, who needs to watch a dumb old baseball game?" Jeff put the tray on the desk. "May I join you for lunch?" He sat down.

"I'm not hungry. Thank you."

He sighed. "You're putting me in a very difficult position, Miss Evans. Matt says you have to eat. You don't want to get me fired, do you?"

Dana managed a smile. "No." She picked up half of the sandwich and took a small bite.

"Bigger."

Dana took another small bite.

"Bigger."

She looked up at him. "You're really going to make me eat this, aren't you?"

"You bet I am." He watched her take a larger bite of the sandwich. "That's better. By the way, if you're not doing anything Friday night, I don't know if I mentioned it, but there's a game between the Orioles and the Yankees. Would you like to go?"