IMMIGRANTS: A FIRST STORY

She was still adjusting to the experience of a heightened level of power.  Overwhelming at times with days beginning with requests of her opinion and ideas while at breakfast and the public and media response to them fed back to her by dinner.

Public scrutiny was familiar after the past 18 months of activity that had led to this elevated power. But still strange to experience the feedback loop so rapidly and forcefully.

Her husband, enthralled and immersed  in the middle of the designing forces, discussed navigating the political court alliances emerging around their first family, with her. But he had been flagging in physical stamina. They all were; the men inside the rooms leading in to the Office.

So it came as no surprise when within the first 2 months of heavily scheduled days of meetings and public events followed by evenings of dinners and galas, that she felt herself succumbing to a low grade fever warranting clearing her schedule for some rest days. While not without precedent, the sudden emergence of the fever still took her by surprise. She isolated herself from the political court and surrounding noise and kept her children at some distance, keeping linked to them through nannies.

Her energy sluggish, she arranged for a day in the nearby family hotel that also housed a branch of her spa.

Her masseuse, applying a deep tissue and lymphatic drainage massage, commented on her physical state: 'Some changes to skin texture, muscles tight and resisting pressure."

"Surely just the result of the endurance of the campaign followed by uprooting our homes, our cities and exposing ourselves to the new environment of the Capitol?"

"Is sure yes. No worry, we will sweat and pummel out."

From her facialist: "Some puffy. Too much salt. Maybe a bit much wine, little much desert?"

"Maybe."

"I'll send diet changes to kitchen. Some tweaks yes."

So easy. Hired people, her people whose job it was to attend to her, restore her to health, keep her purring and glowing in her skin and radiating beauty and energy outwards. Her father demanded it. The rest days and spa visit worked as hoped and she emerged restored and ready to resume her duties, fever all but forgotten.

Each morning her youngest Teddy gave her a big smile and climbed into her lap when she visited his nursery first thing after breakfast. This morning however, removing her shoes and bending down low to him sitting on the the floor, she took his face in her hands to lift his chin up to look at her and found his skin warm to the touch. His eyes looking into hers were tearing and his nose streaming. He coughed, a throaty rumble and turned back to the toy truck in his lap.

His nanny was charged with keeping him warm and well hydrated and watching for changes due to his fever.

"No outside time today please. Nothing too exciting. A quiet day. No playdates, not even with his brother and sister. Just you nanny. I'll be back as early as I can. Please let my assistant know if anything changes."

Slipping her heels back on and checking her hair and face, she turned back into the busy halls and walked through the residence and into the Wing towards the excited chatter ever-present near the Office. The door was closed, as usual, but she knew her husband was inside and wanted to let him know about the boy.

The Office 1st secretary was discussing the schedule with her assistant who had already arrived, trying to get the message into the room. One of the Wing staffers came by with an urgent message for one of the core ensconced and ever-present inside. He agreed to hand her husband a note on her behalf when relaying his urgent message.  She stood, not interested in taking a seat, preferring to either stand or leave without gaining access rather than be visibly kept waiting.  At that moment another message arrived in the anteroom, this one for her. The child's fever was increasing and he'd begun to vomit. At this news she turned and walked briskly, her high heel tips squeaking on the polished hallway floors.