My Father Told Me to Pretend We’d Never Met at the White House—Then General Vance Announced I Oversaw His Defense Contract Review

“Let’s put that in writing.”

I laughed.

“You put everything in writing.”

“That’s why you still have a job.”

That evening Trevor washed the blue mug in my kitchen.

“You have soap on the star.”

“It’s a sticker.”

“I know.”

He rinsed it carefully.

We talked about tires.

Work.

Bread.

Ordinary things.

Then driving lessons again.

“Why do you keep asking whether I remember?”

Trevor dried the mug.

“Because I do too.”

That was all.