“Yes, but so much better,” she said.
“I’ll have to try it sometime.”
“Oh you do! You two have got to go to Hawaii. It really is just the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.”
“So what did you do all day while Jimmy was working?” I asked. It wasn’t that I wanted to keep talking about the trip, but I sensed that there was no getting away from it, so I just gave in.
“Oh, sometimes I lounged around the hotel—the press pool stayed there too, so there were other spouses and family around and we all just got to be so friendly with each other. And then sometimes I’d tag along with Jimmy if the first family was doing something fun, like the beach or something. I’d just tuck myself to the side and enjoy it.”
“That sounds great,” I said.
“You know”—Ash looked thoughtful—“I just really admire Obama so much. He’s very real. Do you know what I mean? He was always aware of how hard everyone was working for him, always thanking everyone. And when we would all be on the beach—and I mean, the staff wouldn’t be right next to the family, because my goodness, they need their space and privacy—but he’d always walk down to say hi to us, always take the time to ask us how we were enjoying Hawaii.”
All I could think when Ash told this story was how annoying it must be for Obama to have to always be on—to make sure he remembered to thank everyone, to take the time to say hi to the families of his staff, when he’d probably rather just sit and relax with his own family on the beach. I mean, yes, he’s the President and that’s part of the job and he got to spend an amazing time in Hawaii, so it’s not like I felt bad for him. Except I kind of did. It must be exhausting to always be that pleasant, to always be watched. I couldn’t help but wonder who would want that kind of life, and then I looked over at Jimmy, his eyes gleaming as he talked about the trip, and I had my answer.
The stories went on and on for the rest of the night: The President made fun of Jimmy’s golf shirt! He wore flip-flops the whole time! (This really seemed to excite everyone, but I guess it is rare to say you saw the President’s toes.) They went snorkeling at Hanauma Bay! Everyone bought surfboards to take home! Obama gave the shaka sign to locals!
The waiter came over to ask if we wanted anything else and I shook my head no, started to say we were probably just ready for the check, but before I could get the words out, everyone else said dessert sounded great. (So it seemed I was the only one who wanted to end our dinner early.) Ash ordered ice cream and Jimmy and Matt both got tiramisu and I ordered nothing because I thought it would seem weird after I’d already said I didn’t want anything.
Jimmy was still talking as the waiter brought over the desserts. “His best friend there is the greatest guy,” he said. “I mean all of his friends that came with were great—like a family really. And you can just tell what a solid person he is that he has this amazing group of friends, and that he’s had them for years.”
I had to look away as Jimmy said this, because it was hard to sit there and listen to Jimmy dissect the President’s character, like his opinion was important. The man had won the presidency, for Christ’s sake. He didn’t need the approval of some random guy in his advance office.
“But this guy, his friend that still lives in Hawaii,” Jimmy continued, “he has this amazing place on the North Shore and he threw this luau and invited the whole staff and we just, like, hung out. We played volleyball against the President and his friends, and after I made a great save, he started chanting my name.” Jimmy paused to smile here and tried his best to look embarrassed, but didn’t even come close.
Ash joined in then, telling me about Michelle’s swimsuit and how lovely she was. This maybe bothered me more than anything because it was the one thing that made me jealous. I’d always had the feeling that Michelle and I would’ve gotten along. I secretly thought of her like a pretend celebrity friend, which may have been a little pathetic, but still—she would definitely like me more than she liked Ash. We had way more in common.
This was the first time we’d hung out with the Dillons when I couldn’t wait for the night to end. I could see Matt thinking about how he’d spent Christmas listening to my crazy aunt Bit and popping Benadryl because he was extremely allergic to Snickers, while Jimmy and Ash had been holding hands with Obama and all running into the ocean together to bodysurf as a happy group. (Or at least that’s what they were making it sound like.)