Joe hunched over his oatmeal, a working breakfast in the Oval Office, one arm around the bowl protectively, as if the redhead who had just stalked in might take it from him.

“Good news, Mr. President,” she said brightly.

“I’m eating,” he muttered. Under the desk, one of his dogs quietly growled.

“Good news, Mr. President,” she said to his scowl. “The poll numbers for the COVID victims memorial are way, way up.”

“A moment of silence,” Joe said, spooning more oatmeal into his mouth. “All those people Trump killed.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You know what I think of when I think about strawberries? Summer. Summer.” He looked down at his bowl of beige mush. “This oatmeal doesn’t have any strawberries.”

“I can have some sent up from the kitchen,” Jen said. “Would you like some?”

“Fruit gives me the runs,” he said morosely. “You’re the only strawberry I can have.”

Jen backed up a couple of feet and looked around the room. A dog growled again.

“Good news, Mr. President,” she said, loudly.

“Oh, Jen, when did you get here?” Joe asked.

“The poll numbers for the COVID victims memorial are way, way up,” she said.

“Excellent news,” Joe said, “Just spectacular.” He stood and straightened his tie and jacket and pulled on his pajama bottoms until the tie-string was back around front. “Everyone’s popularity numbers good? I can’t have Dr. Wife getting all hated like Michelle Clinton.”

“Everyone loves your wife,” Jen lied smoothly.

“And Texas? There was something going on in Texas?”

“The winter storm, sir.”

“Yeah, yeah. And I fixed all that? Got it all working again?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s a fact, Jack!” Biden said and laughed. “I invented a vaccine for cold weather!”

Joe began coughing and sat down heavily. A dog whined under the desk and licked his dangling hand. They were both good dogs, he thought, but he could not recall their names.