Chapter Sixteen #2
As Sam pulled up outside the double townhouse she and Nick had called home, the sight of the ramp leading to their front door that Nick had built for her dad tugged at her heart.
Outside, as she stood on the sidewalk, she glanced toward the ramp outside her father’s now-dark home and reflected on the massive changes that had occurred in her life since her father died in October.
Everything was different now, and she couldn’t help but yearn for what had been just a short time ago.
She went up the ramp to her front door and realized it’d been more than a year since she’d had to use her key to get in.
On many a night, she’d returned home to chaos inside this house, kids chasing each other around, screaming with delight as Nick stood watch over them.
Tonight, she was greeted by silence and an odd echo as she walked through the first floor on her way upstairs to the third-floor storage room where the Christmas decorations were stored.
Passing Scotty’s abandoned room as well as the bedroom the twins had shared, she reflected on how a house was just a building without the people who made it a home.
In just a few short weeks, this place no longer felt like home, because the people who made it one lived elsewhere now.
She found the ornaments right where she’d thought they’d be and brought the box downstairs.
In the kitchen, she eyed the table where they’d had so many meals and conversations and mornings with the kids.
Sam saw Shelby bustling around the kitchen with her son, Noah, strapped to her chest and yearned for the simplicity of only a few weeks ago.
She poured a glass of ice water from the fridge and sat at the table, which already bore a faint layer of dust on its surface.
She used her fingertip to draw a heart in the dust.
This was where she belonged, on Ninth Street in the heart of the Capitol Hill neighborhood where she’d grown up in a modest, middle-class family.
As much as she respected the historical significance of the White House, living in the midst of opulence and being ma’am’d nonstop by butlers and other household staff would never feel normal to her.
She had no idea how long she sat in the kitchen, wallowing in the familiar before she had to return to the new normal. The ringer on the BlackBerry startled her out of her thoughts. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself,” Nick said. “Where are you?”
“At Ninth Street, actually.”
“What’re you doing there?”
“I came to get some of our ornaments for the tree in the residence.”
“Ah, I see. You sound a little weird. Are you okay?”
“It’s strange to be here. It’s like all the life has been sucked out of the place or something.”
“Do I need to come get you?”
Knowing it would take a huge effort by the Secret Service to bring him the short distance across town, she said, “Nah, no need. I’m leaving in a few.”
“I’d come get you if you needed me to.”
“I know you would.”
“Do I need to be worried that you might choose to stay there?”
“Not even kinda.”
“Part of me wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
“I won’t, Nick. I want to be wherever you and the kids are. This place is just a building without you guys here to make it a home.”
“We need you here to make this place a home.”
“I’ve got the grief group tonight. I’m going for the first part at least. I’ll be home after.”
“We’ll be here.”
“How was your day?”
“Not terrible, but not over yet. Gretchen Henderson is coming in shortly.”
“Hmmm.”
“I know, babe. I’m going to have a very frank conversation with her and make sure I’m comfortable.”
“Good luck. I know it’s a tough decision.”
“Every minute around here is a tough decision. Do I send troops in to defend the Gulf of Suez from pirates, risking a confrontation with any number of countries that would love nothing more than to wipe us off the planet? Or do I hold off and hope the Egyptians and others can confront the pirates on their own?”
“Jeez, that makes my day seem simple by comparison. What’re you going to do?”
“We’re giving it another twenty-four hours before we decide anything. The thought of sending U.S. troops into harm’s way gives me incredible anxiety, even if I’m well aware that it’s part of the job.”
“I’d be worried if that didn’t give you anxiety. I have no doubt that whatever you decide to do will be the best possible decision you could make with the information you have available at the time.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. This is the stuff that makes me wonder why anyone would want this job. On another note, the communications team would like for you to make a statement about the Des Moines shooting on the FLOTUS accounts. Lilia is going to reach out to you with some suggestions.”
“Sure, I can do that.”
“The thought is for you to address it from a mother’s perspective.”
“I can’t even imagine what those families must be going through.”
“The media is publishing stories about each of the victims, and it’s just heartbreaking.”
“As sad as I am to have lost my dad, I can’t begin to conceive of it being one of the kids.”
“Let’s not go there. Our kids are very well protected, which is the one major benefit of this job.”
“Well, the butlers don’t suck.”
“No,” he said, laughing, “they certainly don’t. I’m going to have to add a second daily workout to my schedule to keep from gaining twenty pounds a year while we live here.”
“I need to add a first workout to my daily schedule.”
“No, you don’t. I love you just the way you are.”
“You have to say that.”
“That isn’t true, and you know it. Now, go finish your stuff and get your sexy ass home to me ASAP. I have a surprise for you.”
“What surprise?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Ugh, why did you have to tell me about it when I have to wait hours to see it?”
“Because I knew you’d flip out about it, and that makes me laugh.”
“You’ll pay for this later.”
“I can’t wait. Love you.”
“For some strange reason, I love you, too.”
Nick ended the call laughing, leaving her with a big goofy grin on her face.
That was his superpower—making her laugh and smile when the rest of her life was often chaotic and full of the darkness that came with working the homicide beat.
His love sustained her through good times and bad, and all it took was one ten-minute conversation with him to brighten her mood.
She stood to wash and dry the glass she’d used and put it back on the shelf with the rest of the dishes that would be waiting for them to return to their home when their time at the White House came to an end.
Part of her couldn’t wait for that day, but another part of her was determined to enjoy this adventure of a lifetime to the best of her ability while it lasted.
There was literally not another man alive for whom she would’ve taken on the role of first lady. For Nick, she’d proven once again that there was nothing she wouldn’t do for him—and was certain that worked both ways.
Leaving the house, she felt energized to return to HQ for the grief group meeting and to leave as soon as she could make a clean escape so she could get home to her family.
At her request, Dr. Trulo had scheduled this meeting for six rather than seven so she could get home that much earlier.
Her plan was to attend the first part of the meeting and leave during the break.
She felt strongly about being present for the group she’d founded, but didn’t feel obligated to attend every second of every meeting.
She hoped the attendees would understand.