Chapter Eleven
Chris’ staff takes point on helping him with funeral arrangements and on preparing the residence for the newest full-time residents.
In the past, when we’ve had the kids here for holidays, they’ve had their favorite bedrooms they always stay in, which we allowed them to pick their very first overnight. It’s these bedrooms we prepare for them now, the White House Chief Usher supervising clearing them of furniture so we can move the kids’ rooms over in a matter of hours once the word is given by Chris. It’ll probably happen before the funeral, so they can be brought back here after it and have time to grieve in private.
We also need to hire a nanny ASAP. There are times Chris and I will both be out of town and can’t take the children with us, because of their schedules or ours, and we want them to have a continuous, steady presence in their lives in addition to their grandparents, but also someone with the energy to literally chase after them. Their salary will be paid by us, out of our pockets, not the White House budget.
Kevin, Lauren, and Leo take over that process for us, using their contacts to help us quickly find candidates. Within twenty-four hours, I’m sitting down in the residence to talk with Yasmine Alvarado. She’s thirty, single, has a Masters in child development, likes to rock climb and ride horses, and is the daughter of a Republican US Senator and a Democratic attorney. She’s also been cleared by Secret Service.
In other words, she ticks all the boxes, plus I like her. She won’t be living at the White House, and she will have days off, but she’ll be traveling with us when the children do, so her schedule needs to be flexible. Fortunately, she lives in a townhouse in DC owned by her parents.
Kevin arranges for Secret Service to transport her to Pennsylvania to meet Chris, the children, and Hudson and Shawna Harris for their final approval. Once they sign off on her later that day, we start a thirty-day trial period I hope becomes permanent.
She was a teacher at a private school here in DC, and helps Chris with the process of getting the kids transferred and enrolled there. They won’t start attending it until after the funeral.
One of the very first things I had to do when I took office was begin the process of planning my own funeral, in case something happened to me. That wasn’t…fun.
This process is far less enjoyable. I hate that we have to plan everything around security concerns, and that Chris, the children, and the Harrises can’t privately grieve.
I also hate that I can see the strain in Kev as he wants to be there with Chris and knows he can’t.
I haven’t gone to visit yet because Secret Service still isn’t sure they have the area secure enough for me. I could force the issue, sure, but that would cause more commotion and stress to an already less than ideal situation. So I talk to Chris and the kids via video chat several times a day, and the Harrises.
By the fourth day, Secret Service clears me to take Marine One so I can go visit. They’ve cleared the area of bystanders, closed the road to everyone except law enforcement and residents, and Kev, Leo, and I fly in.
They even brought The Beast over, even though it’s such a short ride. They’re taking no chances with me. Chris opens the front door when we arrive, and I practically run up the walk to hug him. His green eyes are red and bloodshot, his nose puffy. My strong, stoic special agent isn’t doing nearly as well as he tried to let me think he was, and I kick myself in the ass for not coming sooner, or at least sending Kevin.
Kevin and Leo ease us inside and close the door, shutting out the world and the press and giving us all a moment together. When I finally get go of Chris, Kevin lets him pull him in for a long hug and whispered words I can’t hear.
The kids are in the living room with their grandparents and Yasmine and working on schoolwork. Hudson’s only five, and the girls are seven, so it’s not like they’re doing physics or something, but it’s more to keep them busy and some semblance of a routine.
“Aunt Shae!” The kids jump up to come hug me, and I squat so I can give them eye-level hugs and tell them I love them. Then they swarm Kev, and Leo. The kids have loved the guys, fortunately, and I know our extended family will help these kids through this time.
Our kids.
Because I’m a mom now. The one thing I never wanted to be, the thing I took great pains not to become.
While I’ve never openly discussed why I don’t have kids, and I’ve never openly said I had my tubes tied, we long ago smacked down discussions of my motherhood status as wildly inappropriate, invasive, and cruel.
Yes, indicating I’m not childless by design, but it shut people up.
Another of those political gold kinds of nuggets that I will exploit as needed.
These are our kids now, though. I’ve always loved spending time with them, and like hell will we turn our backs on them. I’ll have to figure out how to be a mom, I suppose. Just like I’ve done everything else, I’ll put my shoulder to it, dig in, and start shoving my way through it.
I won’t let these kids down. I won’t let Chris down.
We stay for two hours. I’ve also brought Chris extra clothes, and a suit for the funeral. We’re not yet sure when it will be, we’re still in the process of arranging that, but it should be within the next week.
Chris leads me and Kev to the master bedroom, where he’s been sleeping, and behind a closed door pulls both of us in for a hug.
“Thank you, both of you,” he hoarsely tells us. Then he kisses Kevin, a long, sweet kiss I know they both need right now and I don’t begrudge in the slightest. Just like Kevin fulfills needs in me that the sadist cannot, he also fulfills needs in Chris that I can’t. There is a deeper connection between them in some ways that both men flourish because of, and when they can’t nourish it, they both suffer.
“Yaz is great, by the way,” Chris says when he ends their kiss. “Thank you guys so much for hiring her. The kids love her, and Tory’s parents love her, too. She’s perfect.”
“Thank Lauren,” Kev says. “She’s the daughter of a friend of a friend. And Lauren says hi, by the way.”
“I’m sorry you can’t stay longer,” he says to me. “I don’t want the kids inundated by agents and security right now any more than necessary.”
“It’s okay. Maybe I should leave Kev and send him back tonight by car?”
But Chris shakes his head and addresses his comment to Kev. “You stay at the White House with Shae,” he tells him. “Your job is there, and that’s what I need from you right now. Come to the funeral, but you and I will have some time alone at the residence after the funeral.” He reaches up and cups Kev’s cheek. “Be my good boy and take care of my girl for me, okay?”
Kev covers Chris’ hand with his. “I will, Sir. I promise.”
Chris leans in for another kiss. “That’s my good boy. You’re doing an amazing job.”
I know what Chris is doing, though. Kev thrives on praise from him, and he’s trying to help Kev not get bogged down by the same kind of guilt trying to pull me under.
Only I’m better at navigating that emotional swamp than Kev is. I’ve been doing it alone for so long and had far better footing to start out on than he did.
Chris pulls us in for another long hug. “I love you both so much.”
“Guess I won’t be spending overnights as often,” Kev says.
“Why not?” Chris and I ask in unison.
He stares at us. “Uh, because of the kids?”
“You’ve stayed over before when they were there,” I say.
“Yeah, for holidays.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Chris says. “Nothing about that changes, except we need to remember to lock the bedroom and living room doors. If anything, it makes more sense to have you stay over. The kids see you as family.”
Kev, however, doesn’t look convinced. I don’t need to be a mind-reader to know Prophet is thinking of the optics. “We can discuss it later.”
“No discussion,” Chris says. “This is an order, boy.”
Kev and I both suck in sharp breaths of nearly identical need as the sadist sticks his head out and says howdy for a precious moment.
“Yes, Sir,” we both say in unison, prompting an exhausted smile from Chris. He kisses Kev again, then me. “That’s my good boy and good girl,” he whispers.
Later, as we fly back on the chopper, I lay my head over on Kevin’s shoulder as we hold hands. There’s no press with us today, just me, Kev, Leo, Secret Service, and the flight crew. I wanted as few people as possible.
That means we don’t need to worry about who sees him drape his arm around my shoulders and nuzzle his face against the top of my head as I break down crying.