Windmills of the Gods by Sidney Sheldon

“I went upstairs to see him. He looks fine.” She rose. “If there’s nothing else, Your Excellency, I have an appointment back at the embassy.” She started to leave.

“Wait!”

Mary turned.

“You will not accept a gift?”

“No. I’ve explained—”

Ionescu held up a hand. “All right, all right.” He thought for a moment. “If you were to make a wish, what would you wish for?”

“There is nothing—”

“You must! I insist! One wish. Anything you want.”

Mary stood there, studying his face, thinking. Finally she said, “I wish that the restriction on the Jews waiting to leave Romania could be lifted.”

Ionescu sat there, listening to her words. His fingers drummed on the desk. “I see.” He was still for a long time. Finally he looked up at Mary. “It shall be done. They will not all be allowed out, of course, but—I will make it easier.”

When the announcement was made public two days later, Mary received a telephone call from President Ellison himself.

“By God,” he said, “I thought I was sending over a diplomat, and I got a miracle worker.”

“I was just lucky, Mr. President.”

“It’s the kind of luck I wish all my diplomats had. I want to congratulate you, Mary, on everything you’ve been doing over there.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

She hung up, feeling a warm glow.

“July is just around the corner,” Harriet Kruger told Mary. “In the past, the ambassador always gave a Fourth of July party for the Americans living in Bucharest. If you’d prefer not to—”

“No. I think it’s a lovely idea.”

“Fine. I’ll take care of all the arrangements. A lot of flags, balloons, an orchestra—the works.”

“Sounds wonderful. Thank you, Harriet.”

It would eat into the residence’s expense account, but it would be worth it. The truth is, Mary thought, I miss home.

Florence and Douglas Schiffer surprised Mary with a visit.

“We’re in Rome,” Florence screamed over the telephone. “Can we come and see you?”

Mary was thrilled. “How soon can you get here?”

“How does tomorrow grab you?”

When the Schiffers arrived at Otopeni Airport the following day, Mary was there to meet them with the embassy limousine. There was an excited exchange of hugs and kisses.

“You look fantastic!” Florence said. “Being an ambassador hasn’t changed you a bit.”

You’d be surprised, Mary thought.

On the ride back to the residence, Mary pointed out the sights, the same sights she had seen for the first time only four months earlier. Had it been only four months? It seemed an eternity.

“This is where you live?” Florence asked as they drove into the gates of the residence, guarded by a marine. “I’m impressed.”

Mary gave the Schiffers a tour of the residence.

“My God!” Florence exclaimed. “A swimming pool, a theater, a thousand rooms, and your own park!”

They were seated in the large dining room, having lunch and gossiping about their neighbors in Junction City.

“Do you miss the place at all?” Douglas wanted to know.

“Yes.” And even as she said it, Mary realized how far she had come from home. Junction City had meant peace and security, an easy, friendly way of life. Here, there was fear and terror and obscene threats scrawled on her office walls in red paint. Red, the color of violence.

“What are you thinking?” Florence asked.

“What? Oh, nothing. I was just daydreaming. What are you lovely people doing in Europe?”

“I had to attend a medical convention in Rome,” Douglas said.

“Go on—tell the rest,” Florence prompted.

“Well, the truth is, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go, but we were concerned about you and wanted to find out how you were doing. So here we are.”

“I’m so glad.”

“I never thought I’d know such a big star,” Florence sighed.

Mary laughed. “Florence, being an ambassador doesn’t make me a star.”

“Oh, that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you really know?”

“Know what?”

“Mary, there was a big article about you in Time last week, with a picture of you and the children. You’re being written about in all the magazines and newspapers at home. When Stanton Rogers gives news conferences about foreign affairs, he uses you as a shining example. The President talks about you. Believe me, your name is on everyone’s lips.”

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