Madame President - Tara Sue Me Page 0,42
more water, and I’d make certain we didn’t leave the hospital without him.
The tour is over by the time I reach our small group. Everyone is standing at the end of a hallway, near an open door leading to what I guess is a patient’s room. I might as well get a photo of the whole group, but before giving orders for everyone to look my way and say cheese, I notice someone is missing. A very important someone. The Secret Service agents are still here so everything has to be okay.
I walk over to one of the hospital executives. “Aren’t we missing someone?”
The corner of his mouth quirks up into a half smile, and he doesn’t say anything, but jerks his thumb toward the open door. I peek inside and what I find takes my breath away.
Anna is sitting in a rocker and reading to a toddler in her lap.
The nursing director suddenly appears at my side. “Her name’s Emma. She spotted President Fitzpatrick and refused to calm down until she picked her up. Now Emma won’t let anyone take her back.” She pauses for a moment, both of us watching the two of them inside the room. “Her parents are only able to visit on weekends. Weekdays are hard because she doesn’t understand.”
Emma is currently sucking two fingers, trying her best not to fall asleep, and the dichotomy of the powerful POTUS holding the fragile child, reading to her, is awe-inspiring. I lift Roger’s camera and observe the pair through the viewfinder.
Chapter Twenty-One
Her
White House
Washington DC
Nicole is giving me a rundown of my schedule the day after the hospital visit when David sticks his head in my office. The door is open, but it’s only a few minutes past seven and I’d thought I’d have a chance to at least see what the day held before it started. I’m about to tell David I don’t see him on my schedule when I notice his smile is uncharacteristically huge. Especially before nine o’clock.
“I hesitate to ask what the smile is for,” I say. “Oliver must be at home.”
David’s smile falters and I could kick myself. But then, just as quickly as it left, it’s back, and I’m more than a little stunned.
Has he always had the ability to change his expression so quickly, and I’ve just never noticed? If he hides how he feels from me, is it too much of a stretch to think he’s hiding other, more important things as well?
No,” he says. “This morning’s smile is all for you, Madame President.”
I try to think of why that could be and come up with nothing. “What is it I did, exactly?”
David sighs. “Are you still not watching the news?”
Since I’ve been in office, I’ve decided that, as much as I’m able, I will not watch televised reports on or about me. I told David the end result was I basically stopped watching the news. It’s not true, of course, but it annoys David so I’ll keep it up a bit longer. “I didn’t see it this morning, if that’s where you’re going with that question.”
“And I suppose you haven’t seen today’s paper, either,” he adds.
“You would be correct,” I say.
“In that case.” He pauses as he pulls out a newspaper from behind his back. “Let me be the first to show you the leading story everywhere.”
He holds out the paper, and I gasp. Covering nearly the entire top half of the paper is a photograph from yesterday. Specifically, of me reading to little Emma. It’s a beautiful shot. The sunlight is coming through the window at just the right angle to illuminate us both. Emma is pointing to the book with one hand while sucking on two fingers of the other one. The look on my face is… serene. It’s hard for me to look away because there’s something different about my face and I can’t figure out what it is.
I think back to yesterday and try to remember how it felt to hold the little girl who didn’t want to let me go. I see the image in my mind and I gasp because as I picture myself in my head, I relive my emotions and I realize what’s different with the newspaper picture.
I’m not wearing my mask.
Before today, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a picture of myself without my mask firmly in place and to do so for the first time in the Oval Office, with the knowledge that millions of others are seeing it