In the week since the State of the Union address the media coverage had settled now to focus mostly on the war. The meetings and negotiations with the allies seemed neverending. The sanctions announced were the toughest ever and would, over time, cast the Russian economy back twenty years if not more. Joe was feeling good about the alliance, it still required delicate handling but for the moment they were holding together better than he had anticipated.
When Jill woke she was alone in their bed. Her hair tousled, her eyes puffy from sleep Jill looked blearily around the room, listened for sounds from the bathroom but all was quiet. She blinked again, wondering what time it was anyway. She reached for her phone - 4.05am. She flopped back onto the pillow, after a moment she ran her hand across the empty space beside her. She couldn't settle until she knew Joe was ok. She reached for her robe and tied the knot as she stepped out into the corridor.
Everything was eerily quiet but an agent stood silently in the shadow of the doorway leading into the President's office. She couldn't see any light coming through under the door. She called softly to the agent. 'Is my husband inside?' 'No ma'am, he was but he left abruptly. He asked me to guard the door and not leave anyone in there.' Jill frowned, 'do you know where he is?' 'In the gym ma'am', the agent replied. 'At this hour', Jill exclaimed. The agent shifted his weight and looked to the floor. Jill knew he wanted to say something but he wasn't supposed to have opinions. The agents spent so many hours with them, were willing to put their lives on the line for Joe, for her, for their family, and yet they were all supposed to act almost as strangers. It was a most unusual situation. The war, and the decisions Joe was making every day permeated everything no matter if agents were supposed to hear and understand or not. 'Did you want to say something?', she asked kindly. 'I know I'm not supposed to comment but the President seemed upset ma'am'. She reached out and touched his arm gently. 'Thank you. I'll go find him', she said.
When she opened the door of the gym she saw him immediately. He was on his back lifting weights with a vigor that was exceptional. She was afraid he would have a coronary; he was expending so much energy. She crossed the room quickly and stood over him. He continued to lift until she put her hand on his chest and leaned in over him. He only seemed to focus in that moment and she realized that he hadn't noticed her until she had touched him, 'Joe, what's going on?', she asked, concern for him written all over her face. He wiped the sweat from his face with a towel before throwing it on a nearby bench. He made to return to lift the weights again but she stopped him, this time placing her hand on his arm. His skin was so hot she checked his forehead, afraid he was sick. His skin was clammy and sweaty, his t-shirt was molded to his body, sweat stained and crumpled. She pulled at his hands, willing him to sit up. After a moment's hesitation he did so. He wiped his palms on his gym shorts and sat with his elbows resting on his knees, leaning down to catch his breath. She placed her hand on his back, felt his lungs heaving for air. His hair was falling across his forehead and he brushed it back roughly as if annoyed with it. He wasn't his usual gentle, calm, measured self; he was seething. She could feel a rage emanate from him, the heat from his body was like a forcefield, the energy cracked around him. 'Joe?', she tried again. He stood up abruptly, clenching his fists. This was so unlike him but he obviously needed to get something out of his system so she waited patiently for him to begin. 'I got a call about a new intelligence report at 3.00am', he began his words clipped.
'You were asleep. Snoring I might add', he said with the hint of a smile. She felt herself relax a little, her man was coming back to her, an angry Joe wasn't something she saw too often, an enraged Joe even less. 'I wanted you to sleep so I told them I'd call back from the office.' He stopped to gather himself before he spoke again. His voice increased in volume and intensity. 'The heartless, spineless two-faced bastard had ordered rocket attacks on a series of hospitals. Fucking hospitals!' He was pacing the floor, getting worked up again, his words coming fast. 'One was a maternity hospital. It was a direct hit. In another his so called fucking liberation fucking force are holding doctors and nurses hostage. God knows how or where the patients are.' He took a deep breath, his hands shaking and she knew there was more. 'Our intelligence team had gathered photographs and film of the attack on the maternity hospital. They sent them through to me.' He stopped moving and stood deadly still, his face haunted by what he had seen. 'I feel like I want to scratch my eyes out', he said, his voice low, his eyes glazing over with unshed tears. His rage was giving way now to raw emotion. Now Jill understood. Now she realized that he had spent the past hour or more in a cycle of rage, sorrow and deep, soul crushing despair. The images had obviously triggered his own memories, long held memories, pushed to the farthest recesses of his mind. Memories and images that he very rarely ever allowed to surface. She guessed that the night's events had caused them to come roaring back, threatening to overwhelm him. Instead of facing them he was focusing on his rage and trying to work it out of his system. She closed her eyes for a moment. She thought of Beau and the pain she still felt at his loss. For the millionth time she wondered how Joe did it, how he had kept going all those years ago after the accident. Throughout their marriage his despair had resurfaced many times and they had always worked through it together. Today would be no different.
She closed the gap between them and pulled him down to sit beside her on another bench. She leaned into him, rested her head on his sweaty shoulder and began to rub his lower back in gentle circles, kissing his skin and trying to make her contact break through his anger. 'Is that what's on your desk? You asked the agent to guard the door so no one else would have to see what you saw?' she questioned him. He turned his eyes to her and she could see the anger there, but also hurt and a deep sorrow. 'Yeah, they're not the kind of thing to be seen without prior warning. It's not just that though', he began, faltering. 'Go on', she urged him. 'I wanted to preserve the people's dignity too. They can't give their consent for their images to be circulated and I felt like I was the custodian of their last moments. I know that sounds ridiculous', he said, letting his hands fall loseley to his sides, 'but it's just the way I feel. Those images shouldn't be plastered across television screens or used as propaganda'. Jill knew that the likelihood of anything from Joe's desk ending up in a newspaper was exceptionally slim. It was his emotion speaking rather than rational thought. And it made her fall in love with him all over again.
'Are you ready to come back to bed with me?' she asked after some time, still maintaining physical contact with him. If there was one thing that grounded Joe, could cut through any fog surrounding him, it was her touch. 'Just give me another minute please baby', he said, kissing her forehead. In that kiss she could feel him beginning to calm so she continued as she was, leaning into him and rubbing his back. After some long moments of absolute stillness Joe moved his position and wrapped his arms around her, nesteling his head on her shoulder, taking comfort from her. She maintained one hand on his back. With the other she cupped his head, supporting its weight, caressing him as if trying to ease his troubled mind. She could feel him slowly unwind, his taut muscles easing, his breathing becoming more shallow, his weight leaning more heavily on her. After a while she felt him begin to shiver, it was time to move. She gently raised his head and kissed his forehead, his eyes, his nose, his mouth. She stood and reached her hand out to him. 'Come on, you need to get into warm, dry clothes'. She held his hand and guided him to their bedroom. She ran the shower and helped him strip off his soiled clothes, directed him to shower while she took out a fresh t-shirt and long cotton pajama pants. While he was in the shower she quickly made her way to the agent still standing guard by the office door. 'The President is going back to bed for a couple of hours so you can just lock the door and check the key with the chief usher please. You don't need to stay standing there,' Jill directed. She held out her hand towards him and they shook hands in the dimly lit corridor at 4.45 in the morning. 'I appreciate your kindness earlier' Jill said with a smile. 'Thank you ma'am, and you're welcome', he replied, moving to do as she asked.
Jill didn't sleep again but watched Joe as he did. She wanted to be ready for him if he needed her, if he woke and was disoriented or lonely. When the clock turned 7.00am Jill rang Ron and asked that the file and photographs be removed from Joe's desk. She quickly explained that, unless it was totally necessary, it served no purpose for him to see them again. She knew Ron would understand without detailed explanation. Jill didn't interfere in presidential matters often but when she did her requests were followed. Everyone knew that if the First Lady asked for something the President would absolutely back her up so there was no question but do as asked. Everyone knew the first couple were an amazing team.
At 7.15 Jill decided she needed to wake him. Reluctantly she did so. He smiled a sleepy smile at her that warmed her heart. She wondered if he would remember it all in the immediate moments after waking. Her question was answered when Joe leaned over and kissed her gently on her lips. 'Thank you for looking after me last night', he said, rubbing his nose softly against hers. 'It's my job', she replied, kissing him back and pulling his head gently to rest between her breasts. He sighed deeply and settled into her body. 'Damn it' he mumbled as his presidential iPhone rang. Jill reached across and looked at the screen. 'It's Jake', she said, referring to Joe's National Security Advisor. 'Tell him I'm too busy to talk to him', Joe directed. 'I refuse to move from here yet' he said 'we can have another 15 minutes'. He grinned as Jill tried to lie with some little amount of conviction, trying not to gasp aloud as he placed soft kisses all over her skin. She playfully smacked his back as she hung up. 'Thanks for your help there Mr President' she said, scolding him. She smiled as he closed his eyes again to settle happily against her soft breasts. He was asleep and snoring softly already.
To be continued ...
