A Happy Birthday?

Christmas Tree Lighting!

She wishes Joe was here right now. She's tired and cold and the ache in her shoulder is beginning to gnaw.

She's been doing well, has been busy all day but since lunchtime it's been mostly down to dogged determination to not let the kids down, not to interrupt the family traditions. She has enjoyed the day but she longs to take a few moments to rest, to pause, not have to make a decision or have any expectation placed on her shoulders for the next little while.

She looks around, everywhere families are gathering. The choir are assembled in front of the Christmas Tree, awaiting their moment of glory. They wave in her direction and she waves back.

Natalie comes close and asks her a question, she rummages in her purse for a spare hair tie, hands it over. They chat for a moment. Jill is so conscious that neither of Nat's parents are with her and she feels an extra sense of care towards her youngest granddaughter. She watches for a moment, makes sure that Nat and Hunter are doing ok but they're fine, their cousins and aunt and uncle look out for them; always.

She hears movement behind her, footsteps determined and sure ring out across the security cordon.

She closes her eyes in bliss as familiar arms slip around her.

She leans back against him.

He's solid and steady and she lets him take her weight. She feels him broadening his stance to accommodate her body, to let her rest against him and he doesn't say anything for a few moments. She loves that he just knows that she's tired and getting a little sore and that she needs him to just be there for her right now.

She feels herself relax as he settles his hands across her tummy.

'How's my love?' he asks and she closes her eyes as he grazes his lips against her neck.

'Better now', she answers honestly.

'Sore?' Joe asks quietly.

'Yeah, a little', she admits. Grateful to him for just knowing, just being straightforward.

'I have your painkillers in my pocket. You're a little overdue. I know you haven't had a chance to take them, with the cameras and all', he tells her, his face hidden within her halo of soft curls. 'So whenever you get a moment they're in the left pocket of my jacket and there's a bottle of water on the ground beside me', he whispers and she smiles and gently strokes his arm in thanks.

They stand together and take in the atmosphere.

The evening has come in fast. As darkness arrived it was greeted with growing expectation.

The air pops and fizzes.

Excitement seems to spill from people. Everywhere there is chatter and merriment. A wailing note from a trumpet to their left points to the location of the choir preparing for their big performance.

Jill looks in their direction again.

Joe leans down a little, moves at the same pace as her, lets her body just glide almost weightlessly to her left, he props his chin lightly on the top of her head. He teases her about their height difference, says she's the perfect height for him to lean on, but woe to any other man or woman or child who ever attempts to comment on her stature in his presence. Silently she moves her right hand and places it on top of his, sitting pleasantly on her tummy. She feels his breath brush past her face and she knows that he is smiling.

This is important to them both. Such a huge part of their tradition, as a family, as a couple.
Gathering together for the lighting of the Christmas Tree feels like a rite of passage each time, it seems to acknowledge the turning of the year and heralds the beginning of the Christmas season. Since they've taken on their new roles, the decoration of the White House is also happening right now. Wrapped in the warm embrace of her husband, the president, she spares a thought for the scores of volunteers working on that very task over the past few days.