His Perfect Wife Strikes Back

193 the Baby and the President

"What does a newborn baby get him?" I stared at Ian. "He's already president."

"The president just wants to show his concern for you," Ian explained patiently. "This baby is his granddaughter. You're family."

"What an official statement," I said. "Just this once. I need at least three months off for the rest of the year. During that time, neither I nor my baby could be seen in any media."

"Deal," Ian readily agreed.

"I'll give you some time to get ready," Ian said. "I'll let you know when the president is arriving at the hospital."

After Ian leaves, Frade gently places the baby in her own crib, where she falls fast asleep without crying or fussing. Frade walks to the bedside, his eyes brimming with anger. I knew he was unhappy with my decision, and as I prepared for his wrath, he just lowered his voice and said, "Why did you agree to his request?"

"Because I can't say no." I looked at him. "Ian's right. Mickle is the baby's grandfather. I have no reason to say no to him visiting his granddaughter."

"He just wants to take a picture with the baby," Frade said dismissively.

"It doesn't matter," I said. "At least I got us a three-month vacation. We have to make the most of it."

Frade looked at me thoughtfully. He knew what I meant. Then the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. "You're right. We're going to make the most of this three-month vacation."

"The president will be here in five minutes." Ian's sudden voice broke the silence in the room.

I said to Frade on my lips, "Keep smiling."

At the moment when the door was opened again, a stiff smile finally appeared on his face. As Mickle strode into the room, he looked around with concern and asked, "Where is my lovely granddaughter?"

"She's right here," I said to him in my fake baby voice, "In her cute little bed."

"Oh!" Mickle said, leaning close to the baby's crib. He picked up the sleeping baby carefully.

"She's really beautiful, like a little angel."

Ian motioned to the photographer with his eyes, and the photographer snapped several shots of Mickle holding the baby. He holds the baby in his arms with loving eyes. For a moment, I could feel his genuine affection for the baby.

If he was acting, he would have everyone fooled.

"Let's take a picture," Ian says, gesturing for Frade to stand to the left of my bed. Mickle hands the baby back to me, and he stands to the right of my bed.

With a steady stream of camera noises, we tried to look like a family.

When the shoot finally ended, before Mickle left, he asked me, "Does this baby have a name?"

"Vickie!" Frade replies first. "It's my grandmother's name."

I glanced at him. Seriously?

"Maybe you can consider the name Elizabeth," Mickle said, looking at me. "It's my mother's name."

Well, the two men disagreed with my daughter's name. I have to figure out a way to end this as soon as possible.

"I think it would be better to use my mother's name," I said as I caught a glimpse of the complicated look on Mickle's face.

"I'll see you next time," Mickle said, turning away as Ian and the photographers followed.

"Vickie?" I stare at Frade.

"I'm just saying," Frade shrugs. "In that case, I can't let him decide the baby's name."

"We'll talk about it later," I said. "Elizabeth's a good name."

"No!" Frade protested. "Absolutely not!"

I smiled when Frade's phone rang. He hung up and said, "Mark and Liv want to see the baby. I said yes."

"Of course, they have to come. After all, Liv is the baby's godmother." I couldn't wait to meet Liv, and the company of female friends was more effective than that of boys'.

As soon as I met Liv, I couldn't help but tell her about the pain and suffering I went through during the birth. "Eva, you're amazing," Liv said to me in an admiring tone.

"I swear this is the worst moment of my life," I complained. "Men will never know the pain."

"Looks like we'll have to move," Frade interjected. "To avoid the fire."

"It's sister time," agreed Mark.

"Oh, come on." Liv rolled her eyes at Mark. "You're just making excuses to smoke."

"We'll be right back, ladies," said Mark, as if he were a gentleman. "We'll be right outside if you need us."

"Leave!" Liv snorted.

As we continued our conversation, Liv said, "Eva, I don't think anyone is going to have a baby at the inauguration. Only you can do that."

"I'll take that as a compliment." I smiled.

"You have no idea how much attention is being given to this baby." Liv took out her phone and clicked on Twitter and Facebook. "Everyone thinks this baby was born for the President."

"Really?" I glanced at the video on Twitter. "Oh my God, isn't this the image of me falling at the inauguration? It's number one in search."

"The video quickly spread abroad," Liv said, "At least a billion users saw it. Everyone thought it was absolutely the most shocking inauguration in history."

"Oh! I don't want to get noticed." I felt helpless.

"They're focused on the baby," Liv said, "Some people think that a baby born on Inauguration Day is a sign of new hope. Because of this baby, people who used to be against Mickle are in his camp."

"I guess it has something to do with the team behind Mickle," I said.

"Like Princess Charlotte in England, she carries the hopes and blessings of the people," Liv said. "A lot of people are in church praying for this baby, and they love her."

"That means my baby has been exposed to the public," I said worriedly. "A lot of people will be looking at her, including where she is."

Liv froze. She seemed to understand something.

"We can't leave," I muttered to myself.