Mary recognized the Japanese embassy because of the rising-sun flag in front of it. The Indian embassy had an elephant over the door.
They passed a beautiful Islamic mosque. There were people in the front courtyard kneeling in prayer.
They reached the corner of Twenty-third Street and passed a white stone building with a pillar on either side of three steps.
“That’s the Romanian embassy,” Marvin said. “Next to it is—”
“Stop, please!”
The limousine swung to the curb. Mary looked out the car window at a plaque on the outside of the building. It read: EMBASSY OF THE SOCIALIST REPUBLIC OF ROMANIA.
On an impulse, Mary said, “Wait here, please. I’m going inside.”
Her heart began to beat faster. This was going to be her first real contact with the country she had been teaching about—the country that was going to be her home for the next few years.
She took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell. Silence. She tried the door. It was unlocked. She opened it and stepped inside. The reception hall was dark and freezing cold. There was a red couch in an alcove and next to it were two chairs placed in front of a small television set. She heard footsteps and turned. A tall, thin man was hurrying down the stairs.
“Yes, yes?” he called. “What is it? What is it?”
Mary beamed. “Good morning. I’m Mary Ashley. I’m the new ambassador to Rom—”
The man slapped his hand to his face. “Oh, my God!”
She was startled. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong is that we were not expecting you, Madam Ambassador.”
“Oh, I know that. I was just driving by and I—”
“Ambassador Corbescue is going to be terribly, terribly upset!”
“Upset? Why? I just thought I’d say hello and—”
“Of course, of course. Forgive me. My name is Gabriel Stoica. I am the deputy chief of mission. Please let me put on the lights and some heat. We were not expecting guests, as you can see. Not at all.”
He was so obviously in a panic that all Mary wanted to do was leave, but it was too late. She watched as Gabriel Stoica ran around turning on overhead lights and lamps until the reception hall was brightly lit.
“It will take a few minutes for the heat to come on,” he apologized. “We try to save as much on fuel costs as we can. Washington is very expensive.”
She wished she could have disappeared into the floor. “If I had realized…”
“No, no! It is nothing, nothing. The ambassador is upstairs. I will inform him you are here.”
“Don’t bother—”
Stoica was racing upstairs.
Five minutes later, Stoica returned. “Please come. The ambassador is delighted that you are here. Delighted.”
“Are you sure that—?”
“He is waiting for you.”
He escorted Mary upstairs. At the top of the stairs was a conference room with fourteen chairs around a long table. Against the wall was a cabinet filled with crafts and sculptures from Romania, and on the wall was a relief map of Romania. There was a fireplace with the Romanian flag above it. Coming forward to greet her was Ambassador Radu Corbescue, in shirt sleeves, hastily pulling on a jacket. He was a tall, heavy-set man with a dark complexion. A servant was hurriedly turning on lights and adjusting the heating.
“Madam Ambassador!” Corbescue cried. “What an unexpected honor! Forgive us for receiving you so informally. Your State Department did not notify us that you were coming.”
“It’s my fault,” Mary said apologetically. “I was in the neighborhood and I—”
“It is a pleasure to meet you! A pleasure! We have seen so much of you on television and in newspapers and magazines. We have been very curious about the new ambassador to our country. You will have some tea?”
“Well, I—if you’re sure it isn’t too much trouble.”
“Trouble? Of course not! I apologize because we have not prepared a formal luncheon for you. Forgive me! I am so embarrassed.”
I’m the one who’s embarrassed, Mary thought. What made me do this crazy thing? Dumb, dumb, dumb. I’m not even going to tell the children about this. It will be my secret till the grave.