“Hold still!” Finnegan said sharply.

“I don’t wanna ‘nother shot!’ Joe said.

“Stop squirming,” Finnegan said. “Don’t make me tell Dr. Grandma that you are being bad.”

Joe slumped down and turned a little to present his arms to her. She jabbed him quickly and he sucked air in through his teeth.

“See?” she said, pulling the needle out, “We’re all done.”

“I still don’t like it,” Joe said, pulling his dress suit over his wifebeater, hiding the wrinkled skin of his old man tits.

“Your sixth booster is a very important one. You want to be safe until your seventh booster right before Christmas.”

“I never get to do anything fun,” Joe said.

“Well, what is it you want to do?” Finnegan asked, stripping off her PPE and dropping it in the biohazard collection bin.

“I want to go downstairs,” Joe said.

“I’m not going to do that, Grandpa,” she said. “I have to draw the line somewhere. Maybe Jen is around.”

“No, downstairs!” Joe said, pointing at the floor.

“The tunnels? We are not going down in the tunnels. They say they’ve cleaned them out but it is still really gross down there.”

“What about the lounge?” Joe wheedled. “It’s the Presidential Lounge and you told me just this morning that I was President so that lounge is mine.”

“We filled in the spunk dungeon with concrete,” Finnegan said.

“No!’ Joe cried.

*****

“See? I told you a nice walk would be nice,” Finnegan said, supporting Joe as he ambled stiff-legged through the White House corridors.

“These decorations are hideous,” Joe muttered.

“Dr. Grandma picked them all out,” Finnegan said.

“They are wonderful, just magical,” Joe said.

“Finnegan?” Karine called, “Do you have some time for me this afternoon?”

“Of course, Karine,” she replied.

The petite Black woman came up to Finnegan and Joe, barely looking at them as she worked her smartphone.

“Who is this?” Joe asked, grinning vacuously.

“This is Karine, Grandpa,” Finnegan said. “She is going to take over as Press Secretary after Jen leaves.”

“Strawberry is leaving?!?” Joe asked.

“I’ve told you this, Grandpa,” Finnegan said evenly.

“Is she not happy? Was someone mean to my Strawberry?”

“No, Grandpa,” Finnegan said. She put her arm around his waist and pulled him to her, holding him upright, burying his face in her hair.

“I’ll just need a few short statements from him, maybe a gun control soundbite for the new school shooting,” Karine said.

“Do you realize that she’s a Negro?” Joe whispered loudly into Finnegan’s hair.

“Don’t talk like that, Grandpa,” Finnegan whispered.

“Why was she even let in here? I mean, it’s the WHITE HOUSE,” he said hoarsely. “It’s not the BLACK HOUSE.”

“I’m sorry, Karine,” Finnegan said.

“Uh-huh,” Karine said, and walked away.