Chapter Eight #2
They couldn’t broach that topic until their parents were positively identified. When the staff social worker arrived, Dr. Anderson took her outside the cubical to consult with her.
“I want Mommy,” Aubrey said, her eyes shiny with tears as she plopped her thumb into her mouth.
Sam wanted to cry right along with her.
“I know, honey,” Erica said, glancing at Sam.
“So, guys,” Sam said, “I was wondering if maybe you could have a sleepover at my house. We can have ice cream and watch any movie you want. What do you think?”
Aubrey shook her head. “Mommy said not to talk to strangers.”
“Mommy is very smart, and she’s right, you shouldn’t talk to strangers.” Sam removed her badge from her pocket and opened it to show the children.
Alden reached for the badge.
Sam let him hold it and touch it and fully examine it.
“I’m a police officer, and my job is to keep you and everyone else in the District safe. You’d be very safe with me and my family, and I promise we’d take very good care of you, right Erica?”
“Oh yes,” Erica said. “Do you know who Lieutenant Sam’s husband is?”
Aubrey shook her head.
“He’s the vice president of the whole United States. How much fun would it be to meet him?”
Aubrey removed her thumb. “Do you live in the White House?”
“Nope,” Sam said. “That’s the president’s house. My husband is the vice president, but we have a nice house where you’ll be very comfortable and safe.”
Aubrey glanced at Alden, who only shrugged. Apparently, she was the decision-maker for the two of them.
“You’re sure Mommy can’t come tonight?” Aubrey asked, her chin quivering.
“Yes, honey,” Sam said. “I’m sure.”
After a long pause, Aubrey said, “Okay. We can go with you.”
Sam released the deep breath she’d held as she waited for Aubrey to decide.
“Let me talk to Dr. Anderson and see if it’s okay for us to leave.
I’ll be right back, but Erica will be here with you.
” Sam stepped out of the room to consult with Anderson and the social worker, who wore a name tag identifying her as Mrs. Wallace.
Dr. Anderson introduced the two women.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Mrs. Wallace shook Sam’s hand. “I’m a big fan of yours and your husband’s.”
“Thank you. My husband and I are licensed foster parents, and I’d like to take the Beauclair children for the night until more permanent accommodations can be arranged.
In addition to myself and my husband, we have a full-time child care provider, who is also licensed to care for the children in our absence as was required by the court when we were in the process of adopting our son. ”
Mrs. Wallace listened intently.
“Not to mention, we’re surrounded by the finest security money can buy in the form of the Secret Service. The children will be safe with us.”
“I’d need to verify your licensed status, as a mere formality,” Mrs. Wallace said.
“Of course. If you give me an email address, I’ll have my husband send it over.”
Mrs. Wallace handed over her card. “I’ll watch for the email from the vice president.”
The way she said that had Sam wondering if the woman would frame the email. She wouldn’t put it past her. People were so weird. “Let me know when I’m cleared to take the children. They’ve been through enough in the last twenty-four hours. They don’t need to be here any longer than necessary.”
“Understood,” Mrs. Wallace said.
Sam walked away from them, opened her phone and called Nick.
“Hey, babe. Are you almost home?”
“Almost, but I have a slight wrinkle.”
“What’s that?”
Sam told him about the Beauclair children, what she’d offered to do for them and what she needed from him. “I hope it’s okay. They’re so little, and their parents are most likely dead and—”
“Of course it’s okay. Give me the email address for the social worker, and I’ll send her a copy of our license.”
“Thank you.” Sam closed her eyes and gave silent thanks for the best husband ever. No matter what she threw at him, he rolled with her. She tried to do the same for him, which was how she’d ended up married to the vice president of the United States. “We’ll be there soon.”
“I’ll make beds for them.”
“Just do one. I think they’d prefer to be together.”
“Got it.”
“Thank you for this, Nick.”
“It’s no problem. We certainly have plenty of room for two little ones who need a place to stay for a while.”
“We’ll be there soon.”
“We’ll be waiting for you.”
When Sam returned to the cubicle, Dr. Anderson was outside, typing notes on a laptop that sat on a computer station on wheels. “All set,” she told him. “He’s emailing a copy of the license to Mrs. Wallace.”
“She’ll be delighted to get an email from him,” Anderson said with a snarky grin.
“I got that feeling as well. I wondered if she might frame it.”
His bark of laughter made her smile. “You surprise me, Lieutenant.”
“Why’s that?”
“With everything you’ve already got going on in your life, I wouldn’t think you’d have time for foster children.”
“I don’t, but I’ll make time.”
“It’s a good thing you and your husband are doing. If you’re not careful, you’ll get a reputation for being a softy.”
“Shut your mouth. If that gets out, I’ll know exactly where it came from.”
“Don’t worry,” he said gravely even as his eyes twinkled with mirth. “Your secret is safe with me.”