“Hey, big guy,” said the president. “Sleep okay?”
“I’m not a big guy. I’m the smallest kid in my class. Even the girls are taller than me.”
Claire put her spoonful of cereal down and cracked, “And smarter too.”
“Shut up!” exclaimed Tommy.
“Claire!” said her mother sharply. “Leave it alone.”
Claire smiled triumphantly and returned to her notes.
The president said, “Tommy, I’m six-two. Your mother is five-nine. You’re going to be tall. Simple matter of genetics. I bet in a couple of years you’ll shoot right past your sister. You just have to be patient.”
Claire snorted and Tommy scowled.
“And we have three more years in this place,” said Tommy. “Whoopee.”
“Seven more when Dad wins reelection,” pointed out Claire gleefully. “Right, Dad?”
The president was staring at his son and didn’t answer her.
Eleanor quickly rose, did an inspection of Tommy’s appearance, and went into full-scale mom mode, tidying his hair, tucking in his shirt, redoing his tie, and smoothing down his collar.
“You’re running a little late,” she said. “Better hurry with your breakfast.”
Tommy plopped down and stared glumly at his plate.
Eleanor glanced quickly at her husband, but he had returned to gazing off. She had resigned herself, after a bit of kicking and screaming, that so long as they were in this house and he held his office, he was mostly gone from them. The problems he had to deal with were too immense, the vitriol too intense, the stakes too high. She felt like a single mother. But she had lots of help, and she was well aware that there were many women who were truly single struggling to raise families with far fewer resources than she had. Still, it wasn’t easy. Family was hard, regardless of how much money one had.
But seeing his son had given the president something to think about.
Family.
He rose and dropped his napkin on his plate.
Eleanor looked up at him. “Are you okay?”
“Just forgot something I need to do before I fly out.”
He rushed off.
Eleanor turned her attention back to Tommy and coaxed him into eating a few bites of his breakfast. Then she watched her children head off with their Secret Service protection details. They would drop Tommy off first and then Claire. A Secret Service agent would remain in the classroom with them throughout the day.
As the mini-motorcade pulled off, Eleanor did not notice the group of tourists congregating near the side gate to the White House. The place where the first family would leave and enter the White House was very private and not really visible to the public.
Most of the public.
A man and a woman held up their cameras and were snapping pictures of everything they could see. They had sought positions that would give them the best view into this private area while the guards at this location were deliberately distracted by queries asked by others in their group.
As the motorcade turned onto the street, another member of the group took pictures of it, smiling and waving and looking excited as a tourist might. He kept snapping pictures of the motorcade until it disappeared from sight. Then the tail was taken up by a pair of sedans that were parked on Seventeenth Street. They worked in tandem, turning off and then coming back so as not to make the Secret Service grow suspicious.
Back at the White House, Eleanor had stopped to look at some plant beds being worked on by the grounds crew. As she stood there her secretary came up to her.
“Mrs. Cassion, I’m checking out the details for the trip to Nantucket for you. It’ll just be you and the children, correct?”
“Yes. I talked to the president this morning. It doesn’t look like he can make it.”
“The Secret Service is working on the logistics and they’ll have their preliminary report back later this week if that’s okay.”
Eleanor nodded and said, “I remember the day when we just jumped into the car with a couple of suitcases and our dog and drove off.”
The secretary laughed. “Wish those days were back?”
“Only every minute of my life. But I really think it’ll be good to get away. I only wish the president could join us.”
“The house you’ve picked looks beautiful.”
“Friends of ours. The Donovans. They’re letting us use it. Very old, very rustic. We can walk to the beach. And we can ride bikes to town. Roaring fires. Books to read, chats to have. Just…just being together.”
Reel abruptly stood, as did Blue Man, when President Cassion strode into the room, alone. One of his aides shut the door behind him after a resentful look at the other occupants of the room. Apparently the president’s team was not pleased about being cut out of this meeting.
Cassion said, “Thank you for coming. I don’t have much time, so let’s get down to it.”
He sat and so did the others.
“To the point, we have learned that General Pak had an adopted son and daughter. They’re now grown. They have been sent to a labor camp within North Korea in retaliation for what Pak did.”
He stopped talking for a moment as the others stared pointedly at him.