21We got our meeting at the White House. But I had nothing to do with it. Truman invited him.
So that’s how I came to be standing on one foot and then the other at Winifred’s desk, waiting for the big little guy to finish signing some bill. And by now you know why I prayed so fervently it wouldn’t be with a ballpoint.
If you can believe it, Milt had been flirting with Winifred while I was in the can.
He was holding a copy of the Washington Post that had the picture of the flyers as the headline story on the front page.
I pointed to it as I walked past. “Fame. It’s all about fame,” I said, but not too loud.
Milt drew me aside to be sure she wouldn’t overhear. “What’s your point?”
Not answering him directly, I said, “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”
Then his voice dropped to a
