State of Affairs

by Marie Force

  “You did good.”

  “A little more warning before you take me to the White House next time, huh?”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  “Ang is so excited I think she peed herself.”

  “Don’t make me laugh.”

  “It’s not funny,” Ang said when she came into the room. “I did actually pee myself, but that happens a lot these days with baby number three ruining what’s left of my bladder.”

  “TMI,” Sam said, quelling the envy that erupted inside her every time she was reminded that each of her sisters had no problem getting pregnant or staying pregnant—three times each—while she’d never been able to do it once. The envy wasn’t as fierce as it’d been before Scotty, the twins and Elijah had come into their lives, but it was still there, reminding her of the most vexing challenge of her adult life.

  “It’s gotten so bad that Spence is calling me Leaky—and I’m only in the fourth month. Looking forward to what’s ahead.”

  “Now that’s funny,” Tracy said.

  Angela moved so she was on Sam’s right side. When she wasn’t pregnant, she was whip thin, which irritated her sisters endlessly. Pregnancy made her even prettier than she already was, infusing her cheeks with a glow. Sam had always thought Angela was the stunner of the three of them. Nick said he disagreed, but he had to say that. “It doesn’t look that bad,” Angela said of Sam’s face.

  “No need to lie. I can see it’s awful.”

  “It’s way better than it was,” Tracy said. “Take a look.”

  Sam finally ventured a glance at the mirror and was astounded to realize Tracy was right. “I’m in awe of you and your ability with makeup.”

  “We just need some eye makeup and lipstick to finish you off.”

  “Let me do her eyes,” Ang said. “I watched this cool video on YouTube last night, and I want to try it on her.”

  “Nothing crazy,” Sam said. “I’m going to a meeting at the White House.”

  “I gotcha covered. Don’t worry.”

  “I found big flesh-colored bandages we can use on your hands,” Angela said. “No one will even know you’re injured.”

  Thirty minutes later, the three of them trooped downstairs, ready to kick ass and take names at the White House. With all her heart, Sam wished her dad could be there to see them off. He’d be busting his buttons with pride for his three daughters.

  Sam wore a black and red floral dress with a black jacket and her prized Louboutins. Being first lady would probably mean more cool shoes, which was the one thing about the gig that truly made her happy.

  She was also wearing her gorgeous engagement ring, which she never wore to work, and the diamond key necklace. Despite the carnage on her face, she felt as prepared as one could be to visit the now-former first lady at the White House to learn what she needed to know to succeed in the role herself. The sheer lunacy of it made her laugh despite the pain that caused her. She carried a large black purse that contained a gift she planned to leave for her husband in his new office.

  Nick came out of the dining room when he heard them come down and let out a low whistle. “Three hot mamas going to the White House, and wow, Tracy, that makeup is incredible. You look great, Sam.”

  “Hopefully, I won’t embarrass us too badly,” she said, grimacing.

  “You’ll be awesome.” He kissed her forehead. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

  Sam took a minute to sit with the kids, who were snuggled up to Scotty watching a Minions movie for the nine-hundredth time. “When I get home, we’ll make some pizza and play Candy Land, okay?”

  Aubrey smiled and nodded. “Okay, Sam. How does your face feel?”

  “It still hurts, but it’s better than it was.” That wasn’t true, but she didn’t want the little girl to worry about her. She leaned in to kiss her, her brother and Scotty.

  “Good luck at the White House, Mom,” Scotty said. “Pick out the coolest room for me.”

  “Will do, pal.”

  Vernon and Jimmy led them to a black SUV and waited for them to be settled before closing the door.

  “This is so freaking cool,” Tracy said.

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “Come on, Sam,” Angela said. “Even you have to agree that living in the White House is going to be an amazing experience for all of you—and the rest of us who get to visit you there.”

  “It will be. I have no doubt about that. It’s just the intense scrutiny and attention and safety concerns that make me anxious. So many people are pissed about the way Nick became president. They think he’s too young. They think he doesn’t want the job because he basically said that a week ago. The whole world is talking about my husband and my family, and today, the mayor asked me if I’d like to be the department’s new deputy chief.”

  “Seriously?” Tracy asked with a high screech to her voice. “And you’re just telling us this now?”

  “Relax. I said no.”

  “Why?” Angela asked.

  “Because! I don’t want that job. I want the one I already have, and besides, it’s bad enough that I have to hear all the time that I’m only where I am because of who I am, that my father and uncle and all their buddies are the only reason I’ve been successful. The last freaking thing I need is to be promoted two ranks the same week my husband gets the ultimate promotion. I’d never hear the end of that, which is why you guys can’t breathe a word of this to anyone, even Spencer and Mike.”

  “We never would,” Tracy said. “What did the mayor say?”

  “That she was disappointed, but said she understood how I felt. Thank God Uncle Joe was there to assure her there was no chance I’d change my mind.”

  “Still, it’s kinda cool to be asked, right?” Ang asked.

  “I guess. I mean, it’s not lost on me that it’d be awesome to have the job Dad once had, but I love what I do. I can’t imagine being stuck in an office all day pushing paper and dealing with City Hall and the union.” She shuddered. “I’d go mad.”

  “And your talents would be wasted,” Tracy said.

  “That too. I’m really only good at one thing, and I need to stay in my lane.”

  “You’re good at lots of things,” Angela said.

  “Name something else,” Sam said, giving her a withering look that wasn’t as withering as it would’ve been if her face hadn’t been killing her.

  “You’re a great mom.”

  “No, I’m an adequate mom. Look at what my kids are doing today while I’m off working and meeting with the former first lady.”

  “Your kids had a very big day yesterday,” Tracy reminded her. “They’re probably exhausted from all the fun they had.”

  “Thanks to Shelby,” Sam said.

  “Thanks to you, Nick and Shelby,” Angela said. “You need to lighten up. They’re all doing great, and that’s because they know how loved they are.”

  “I hope they know that. So, hey, Freddie had a big idea I wanted to run by you guys.”

  “What’s that?” Tracy asked.

  “He thinks we ought to ask Celia to move to the White House with us so she can be there for the kids when we can’t be.”

  “I love that idea,” Ang said. “She’s been so down since Dad died. That would give her a wonderful new adventure and a change of scenery. She told me the other day how hard it is to be at the house without him there with her.”

  Sam was sad to hear that. “You think she’d want to do it?”

  “I think she’d love it,” Tracy said. “You should ask her.”

  “I haven’t really talked to Nick about it yet.”

  “He’ll love it,” Ang said. “Of course he will. It’s a great idea.”

  “I’m glad you guys think so.”

  When the Secret Service was driving, it took less than five minutes to drive from Ninth Street to Pennsylvania Avenue. As they pulled through the gates, Sam began to feel like she was hyperventilating, even though she’d been there many times
before. Everything was different now. This was their house, on loan from the people, for the next three years. The enormity of it all seemed to swoop down on her in the seconds before the car door opened.

  “Breathe, Sam,” Tracy said softly. “Just breathe.”

  She was so glad her sisters were with her as they made their way inside, where Lilia was waiting to greet them.

  “I heard you got hurt,” Lilia said, eyeing Sam’s face and bandaged hands. “Are you all right?”

  “I will be. No big deal.”

  “Mrs. Nelson asked me to bring you to the residence for tea and a tour. Right this way.” She led them down red-carpeted hallways, past portraits of former presidents and gorgeous antiques. “Tomorrow, the volunteers will begin decorating for Christmas. Next year, you’ll get to choose the theme.”

  “That doesn’t sound at all overwhelming,” Sam said.

  “We’ll help you,” Angela said. “We’ll help you with everything.”

  Sam smiled at her sister. “Thank you. I need all the help I can get.”

  “We’re here to make you look good,” Lilia said.

  “On days like today, that can be one hell of a job,” Tracy said.

  The four of them shared a laugh as Lilia ushered them into an elevator that took them to the second-floor residence, where Gloria Nelson met them. She wore a red pantsuit with a black-and-red floral blouse and black heels.

  “We look like we called each other to coordinate our colors,” Gloria said as she greeted Sam with a smile and a hug.

  “That’s funny,” Sam said, touched by Gloria’s warmth.

  “I heard you were injured earlier. Are you all right?”

  “Other than my banged-up face and hands, I’m fine.”

  “Ouch.”

  Aware of a photographer documenting the moment, Sam stepped back, but kept a light hold on Gloria’s hands, ignoring the pain radiating from hers. “How are you holding up?”

  “Oh, you know… Good moments and bad moments. It’s helped to have the family here with me. I’ve sent them down to the bowling alley so we can have a few minutes to ourselves.”

  “I’d like to introduce you to my sisters, Tracy Hogan and Angela Radcliffe. Ladies, this is Gloria Nelson.”

  “It’s so lovely to meet you both,” Gloria said as she shook their hands. “I’m so glad you could join us today.”

  “Thank you for having us,” Angela said, seeming starstruck.

  Gloria had had the same impact on Sam the first time they’d met at John O’Connor’s funeral. She was an impressive, accomplished woman in her own right, and Sam had always admired her, never more so than how she’d handled the scandal that followed her husband’s affair.

  “We’re very sorry for your loss,” Tracy said.

  “Thank you. The outpouring of love and support has just been overwhelming. Despite everything, people still loved David.” She led them into a beautifully appointed sitting room with red walls, high ceilings, elaborate moldings and priceless artwork. Sam had been in that room once before, when she and Nick met with President and Mrs. Nelson after their son Christopher targeted them and was charged with murdering Sam’s ex-husband. It was there that the Nelsons had assured them they’d known nothing of their son’s schemes until the rest of the world found out. “Please, have a seat and make yourselves comfortable. Lilia, you’re welcome to join us.”

  Sam waved for her to come in.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Lilia said, sitting across from Sam.

  As usual, Gloria looked as if she’d just stepped out of a beauty salon, with every one of her blonde hairs perfectly coiffed and her makeup flawless. Sam felt like an impostor sitting in Gloria’s presence as the nation’s new first lady.

  An older Black man in a tuxedo uniform appeared, rolling a cart with a silver tea service and a wide assortment of pastries that made Sam’s mouth water, reminding her she hadn’t eaten anything but the granola bar hours earlier.

  “Roland Daniels, I’d like you to meet Mrs. Cappuano and her sisters, Mrs. Hogan and Mrs. Radcliffe. I believe you know Mrs. Cappuano’s chief of staff, Lilia Van Nostrand.”

  “A pleasure to meet you all,” Roland said. “We look forward to welcoming your family, ma’am.”

  “Thank you, Roland,” Sam said. “It’s wonderful to meet you too.”

  “Roland has been here for six administrations, counting your husband’s,” Gloria said. “And his father was here for twenty-eight years before that.”

  “That’s amazing,” Sam said. “Thank you for your service.”

  “It’s been an honor and a privilege, ma’am.”

  He poured tea for each of them and offered them plates and pastries.

  “I can already see that living here isn’t going to be good for my waistline,” Sam said as she took a raspberry tart and a lemon danish. Just to be polite, or so she told herself. Whatever.

  “You’ll have your very own pastry chefs,” Gloria said.

  Sam groaned with pleasure when she took a bite of the tart. “This won’t be good at all.”

  The others laughed, which went a long way to making her feel more relaxed.

  “I’ll be sure to let the pastry chefs know that Mrs. Cappuano has a sweet tooth,” Roland said.

  “She has a sweet tooth, a pizza tooth, a chips-and-salsa tooth,” Tracy said, using her fingers to count. “She really has all the teeth.”

  “You be quiet,” Sam said teasingly. “We don’t need them to know all my faults on the first day.”

  “We’re here to fill you in, Roland,” Angela said with a wink.

  Amused, he said, “That’s good to know, ma’am. Please let us know if you need anything further.”

  “The staff is amazing,” Gloria said after Roland left the room. “You’ll be pampered to within an inch of your life. They work so hard to make your lives easier.”

  “I have to confess that the idea of having people wait on us is going to take some getting used to.”

  “I felt the same way you did when I first arrived. I was accustomed to taking care of myself and my own family, but Mrs. Harrigan told me something I’ve never forgotten,” she said, referring to her predecessor. “She said this is their life’s work, to take care of the presidents’ families. We have to honor and respect that and allow them to care for us the way they’ve been trained to do.”

  “That’s a lovely way of putting it,” Sam said.

  “They’re here for you. If you don’t need them, they don’t have jobs.”

  “She needs them,” Tracy said. “You have no idea how much she needs them.”

  “Whose idea was it to bring my sisters?” Sam asked.

  Gloria laughed. “Leave it to your sisters to tell it like it is.”

  “For sure. I do need all the help I can get, if I’m being honest.”

  “I heard you intend to keep your job, and if I may say, I think that’s marvelous.”

  “I’m glad you think so. It makes me antsy to know the eyes of the world will be on me, my husband, our family, even more so than they were when he was VP.”

  Gloria stirred some honey into her tea. “The one word of advice I’ll give you is to stay true to what matters most to you—your husband, your marriage, your children, your work. David and I… We got caught up in the madness and paid a terrible price for that. I don’t want to see that happen to you.”

  Sam swallowed hard at the thought of anything coming between her and Nick the way another woman had with the Nelsons.

  “Anyway,” Gloria said, making an attempt to rally. “Have you given any thought to who you might like to have as your social secretary? I know Cornelia would be happy to stay on, but I’m sure you have your own people to draw from.”

  “I do have someone in mind,” Sam said. “I haven’t yet spoken to her about it, but we’d appreciate Cornelia’s help during the transition.” The Nelson administration’s social secretary was a Washington institution and would be invaluable to Shelby, if she agreed to come
on board. That was a big if for Shelby, who had a soon-to-be one-year-old son and another baby on the way.

  “I’ll make sure Cornelia is available as long as needed. The one thing to keep in mind about being first lady is there’s no guidebook to follow, which is a good and bad thing. Each of us makes it up as we go along, which in some ways gives us tremendous power to carve our own paths. Jacqueline Kennedy famously disliked the title of first lady. She said, ‘It sounds like a saddle horse. I felt as if I’d just turned into a piece of public property.’ In many ways, she was right about that. You do become public property, but it’s up to you to decide how much or how little you choose to give.”

  “I appreciate knowing that,” Sam said. “I’ll confess that while I’m indeed determined to keep my job, I’m also intimidated by the idea of being a mother and first lady at the same time.”

  “You’ll have lots of wonderful help. Rely heavily on the people whose jobs it is to make it easier for you. Now, enough talk of business. Let me show you around your new home.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sam, Tracy, Angela and Lilia followed Gloria to the hallway. “First, some stats. The White House is an eighteen-acre property, and the mansion has one hundred thirty-two rooms, thirty-five bathrooms, twenty-eight fireplaces, eight staircases, three elevators and two hidden mezzanine levels that make for six floors tucked inside a building that has the appearance of three floors from the outside.”

  “Am I required to know all that?” Sam asked, at once impressed and horrified.

  Gloria laughed and squeezed her arm. “I’ll make sure you get a cheat sheet.”

  “That’d be appreciated.”

  “You’ll give the tour often enough that you’ll have it all memorized in no time.”

  Sam wasn’t so sure, but she kept the thought to herself.

  “The White House is beautifully run by ninety-six full-time and two hundred fifty part-time staff of dedicated ushers, butlers, housekeepers, photographers, florists, chefs, carpenters, plumbers, electricians, gardeners, calligraphers, engineers, maids and doormen, all of them overseen by the chief usher, whom you’ll meet shortly.”