DC By the Book

Excerpt: Was it any wonder, then, that Patrick could not breath easy during even the most casual conversations? When he told Alex about the problem with the car, for instance, he felt almost certain that Alex would say something mild and reassuring, but he wasn't quite certain. And then Alex went ahead and validated his uncertainty by saying, "Honey, why do you even need a car?" Patrick closed his eyes. "I need my car, I use my car." -- "Well, I was just thinking. I mean, you can take the Metro to work. And if you wanted to, you could do all your shopping within three blocks of your house." -- "Where? Where could I do my shopping?" -- "I don't know - Eastern Market?" -- "Eastern Market? People get - things at Eastern Market. They get - omletes and pig's feet; they don't get groceries." -- "Well, there's a Safeway, isn't there?" -- "Ten blocks away there's a Safeway. You want me to - to portage grocery bags for ten blocks." -- "I was just asking a question." -- "You have a car too, you know." -- "I know I do, and sometimes it's more trouble than it's worth, and I think sometimes if I didn't have one, I wouldn't really miss it."

Excerpt: "Oh, my God, look." Alex was kneading Patrick's shoulder, gesturing with his free elbow toward a triumvirate of men striding down the opposite side of 17th Street. The men were dressed a little warmer than the weather was; cutoff jeans and Bermuda shorts, tank tops in sorbet shades, boat shoes and flip flops. The man with the bird tattoo on his right calf was the only one Patrick recognized. His name was William, and he was a local television personality--the backup traffic reporter on a Fox-affiliate news show. Once his helicopter had almost crashed into the Potomac.