Summary: Five times Bill Clinton and Hillary Rodham’s lives intersected before sliding farther and farther apart. (In 5 drabbles.)

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1.                She greeted the crowd as she stepped down from the platform.  This day had finally come after a lifetime of working her bleeding heart out.  Here she was, smiling so hard her cheeks must have ached at the effort.  Not that he could see, not that anyone could tell.  She was in her element, she was home.

                He was so proud; surely, his face could have lit the moon.

                She walked the crowd, shaking the hands of the faithful.  Missing him entirely, she passed on by.

                He was just the governor from Arkansas.  Today, she was President.

                *January 20, 1993.*

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2.                She couldn’t suffer fools. Lamplight had dulled her eyes and she was out of avenues for his redemption.

                He stood before her desk, tall and contrite.  His brilliance was a wash and his charisma a loss. The country desperately needed him today, but she couldn’t use him because he had a fault.  She couldn’t use him because he’d never learned.

                “How do you want to make your statement?” He didn’t answer.  “From my office or yours?”

                “Mine,” he muttered.  She nodded.

 “You were great,” she offered as comfort.

He shook his head. “Might have been.”

The story of their life.

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 3.               He knew the signs: the vague expression and roving look.  She needed an exit.

                At the tap on his shoulder, he turned, unsurprised by the inevitable result.  Terry talked small; she was already gone when he looked.  That was the nature of the business.

                Their former friendship was a liability.  With the Mid-Terms ahead, they couldn’t bear even a hint of scandal.  As it was, he was barely invited.  That he had been at all was a gracious nod to what they used to share.

                Though she owed him less than that, she’d always believed in charity.

                Especially for him.

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 4.               It was a good speech.

The endless wave of Wellesley girls beamed in awe.  She wore a proud face and spoke the words with all her heart.  We have overcome.

The class president cried.  She winced instinctively but couldn’t fault the girl her emotion.

                Another eight-minute ovation was reward enough for a lifetime.  That girl was loudest.  She stood tall and ruddy, smiling just like her father. Below the stage, she could be heard exclaiming about Arkansas watermelons.  Seven wonders in the world, she could only think of home.

                The speech was good, but daddy’s girl was something else entirely.

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5.                He told himself not to smile at her.  It wasn’t the time or the place.  This was a State of the Union and she was speaking.  He respected this woman, this president.  He would have been honored to serve in her cabinet.

                …or hold open the door for her.

                …help her into her jacket.

                …or out of it.

                …kiss her cheek when she stepped down from the podium.

                …whisper in her ear till she couldn’t contain her grin.

                He wondered what they talked about.  He supposed he’d never know.

                His name was Bill Clinton; he was just an honored guest.