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Damn right she would.
“. . . the office of President of the United States . . .”
The President of the United States. His wife was finally claiming the job she’d been born to hold.
The country was lucky to have her. In addition to intelligence, she possessed vision, experience, integrity, and a stunning lack of personal ego. Just as important, her time in Congress had demonstrated her rare ability to bring people together, even longtime political enemies. Somehow she managed to get the most out of everyone, maybe because no one had the courage to disappoint her. She’d also aquired a bone-deep serenity that came from learning how to live a public life and still be true to herself.
“. . .and will to the best of my ability . . .”
He’d given a lot of thought to his new position as the republic’s first First Husband, and he intended to do a kick-ass job. He was the man who’d set the precedent for all the others who followed, and he understood his priorities.
Along with Nealy’s welfare came the well-being of his five children. In a series of columns he’d written since the election, he’d made it clear to the American public that he and the new President were the parents of kids who were sometimes angels, sometimes brats, and frequently everything in between. The President was answerable to the American people, but her children weren’t, and anybody who had a problem with that could just vote for someone else next election, then take the consequences.
“. . . preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.”
He was awed to think of his wife as the defender of that most precious document. And if she ever forgot, even for a moment, what a responsibility that was, he’d be right there to remind her. It was about time a topflight journalist had an inside seat on history, and Citizen Mathias Jorik had decided there was no more noble role for the First Husband than that of the people’s watchdog.
The next few hours flew by until it was finally time for the Inaugural Parade. He and Nealy had decided to walk the route, and they started off hand in hand with the kids following. Before long, however, Andre and Charlotte got into a spat and had to be separated. Holly was too young to walk for long, and she wanted to be carried. Then Charlotte wanted up, too, so he passed Holly off to Lucy.
Andre was definitely captivating the crowd, but Mat wondered if he and Nealy had made him too aware of his place in history as the first African-American child of a United States President. They exchanged amused glances as their eight-year-old son once more raised his small brown fist to the crowd.
Lucy’s arms wore out, and Mat put Holly into the limousine that was following them, with Jason Williams and Toni DeLucca doing honorary guard duty. Then Charlotte wanted in, too. Andre stuck it out nearly to the end before deciding his raised fist would look even more imposing coming from the open window of the presidential limousine. Within minutes, his sisters commandeered the opposite window so they, too, could demonstrate their solidarity with the African-American community.
Finally it was just the four of them, the way it had been eight years ago. Nealy walked slightly ahead, having the time of her life as she waved to the crowd. Lucy came up on one side of him, Button on the other. He wrapped an arm around each of them, then smiled to himself as he remembered how desperately he’d fought having a family. Now he was the most visible family man in the free world.
His beautiful oldest daughter gave him a hug. “It’s been a long strange journey, hasn’t it, Dad?”
“I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
“Me either.” Button momentarily rested her head against his chest, and he said a little prayer of thanksgiving that his worse nightmare, having a family, had come true. Then he let his daughters go so he could take his place next to his wife.
The new Commander in Chief’s eyes sparkled as she gazed up at him. “And to think I once risked everything to get out of the White House.”
“It was the second best decision you ever made, after marrying me.”
She smiled. “Have I told you that I love you?”
“You sure have.” And then, right in the middle of Pennsylvania Avenue, with the whole world looking on, he planted a long, lingering kiss on the lips of the President of the United States.
