Over the next ten days plans progressed quickly.
Jill's days were filled with long discussions about the visit of the Macrons. Joe's days were filled with ensuring that the situation in Ukraine didn't go nuclear, literally.
Quick breakfasts and hasty dinners combined with full schedules, travel and constant problem solving made for little quality time together.
The exhibition was scheduled to be officially opened to the public while the State visit was underway.
And time was ticking.
A State visit, any State visit was a complicated, difficult event to prepare for but when the guests were the oldest ally of the nation, and one of the strongest partners in the war effort the stakes were even higher.
On top of all that there was a secret transfer of a priceless piece of art and an exhibition to go with it.
Jill paused while replacing the receiver into the phone cradle. No, she thought, the painting isn't priceless. The price may be peace, or war. An independent nation or a fallen puppet state. The implications were truly massive.
Global.
Historic.
All of this leads to an extra layer of arrangement, security, diplomacy. The latter alone was a complete minefield. In addition she had so many decisions still to make about menus, china, glassware, accommodation, speeches, formalities, paintings, guest list, invitation design. Seating plans were another area of much discussion all of which her team managed masterfully.
By evening she was practically dragging herself upstairs, yawning through dinners with Joe, happy to find a few moments together when they could sit on the sofa, often reading their briefing books. It was all exhausting but nonetheless their time together was the highlight of every day.
'What is that noise?' the president asked as he moved from the White House across to the Eisenhower building for a virtual meeting one afternoon. 'The carpenters are in today sir, they're preparing to hang the art exhibition. Joe smiled. 'Yes, of course'. How could I have forgotten, he chided himself. Jill had reminded him just this morning at breakfast but he'd been so deeply involved in discussions in the cabinet room since then it had slipped his mind.
As soon as he was finished with the virtual meeting he called Annie over. 'I want to see the work on the exhibition. Is Jill still there?' 'Let me find out sir', she responded.
He arrived in the usual flurry of activity and movement. Agents sweeping the area ahead of him even though it was within the secure complex and Jill's team were already in situ. Through the tangle of people and equipment he caught sight of her and his heart skipped. She was standing within a huddle of people, answering questions, asking more. She had one arm folded across her waist, the other was bent at the elbow, with her fingers pressed to her lips, head to one side, lips slightly pursed. She had pages held in the hand still resting at her waist. She looked so in control, absolutely calm, confident, a first lady in her element. But he could see the tiredness, the slight narrowing of her eyes. The tightness within her posture that told of her anxiety
She had barely reacted as he arrived. While others turned, moved aside, discreetly took out phones in the hope of a quick photo Jill continued with her conversation. The flurry of activity now a normal part of her day, an indication that her husband was arriving home or for dinner, or a meeting.
But she knew he had arrived all the same.
He could tell.
Their eyes met as she looked up. 'Joe!', she said softly. How did his name always seem so hot coming from her lips, he wondered. He reached out his hands and she filled the gap between them in a few steps, deftly fitting her hands within his palms. She leaned up, he down and their lips met in a sweet, chaste kiss. 'I came to see how you were getting on', he told her.
