There's a certain innocence to people when they're sleeping. They don't have any signs of their lives on their faces, looking like they've been sheltered with the perfect diet and daily routine as long as they've been alive. He looks ten years younger, the smile just bringing his personality out even further.
He isn't a snorer, thank god- or I'd probably punch him. His chest rises by a few inches every few seconds, no sound escaping his lips. I sit up, my mind wandering back to the events of the past few weeks. We did pretty good at just being colleagues and friends for a little while there- but like most things it didn't last. With finding out I was pregnant, less than twelve hours ago- everything changed.
I'd never envisioned myself as a mother until that moment. When I'd finally processed everything, I couldn't see myself as anything else. You can always squeeze one extra thing into your day, after all. Even now, when I think I'm done, there's almost always something else. Yesterday was an exception because of the fainting and state of the union. I'll film a speech remotely, later today so the country can still get its updates.
I've gotten about seven hours of sleep- more than the past week's nights combined. Though I'll probably still get yelled at by the doctors when they read my chip on Saturday, I'm satisfied.
I still haven't seen the videos. I don't intend to, unless a reporter pops them up without warning during an interview. I glance down at my sleepwear- a loose t shirt and sweatpants, then grimace. I can't leave the residence like this, but we have a meeting in about....ten minutes. Shit.
I lightly poke Ethan. When his eyes don't move, I go on to shaking, which rouses him immediately. I watch him as he gets up, unaware of his surroundings, still confused from grogginess. Then he finally realizes he isn't sleeping, and his eyes widen.
"I didn't dream the...pregnancy thing?" He asks. I shake my head in response.
"We should probably get going. They might've started early...like always." I hold onto my bedside table for balance as I rise, grab a brand new pantsuit from the back of a chair, and begin to strip. There's nothing about my body he hasn't seen yet. I turn sideways in my full length mirror, trying to observe any noticeable change.
Though I know it's impossible to show this early, I can't help myself. How long will it be, for me? With my mothers second pregnancy, she started showing around ten weeks. Her mother commented on the weight gain, figuring things out before she'd even decided to tell people.
I get why one would wait. The first trimester is the most risky, or so I've heard. I have no idea what the actual statistics are- and I refuse to freak myself out by looking them up.
I continue getting dressed. For now, the pantsuit hugs my body perfectly- but what will happen with my clothes? Will designers start sending in maternity wear, or will the pieces I receive during my pregnancy be fitted?
These are things that can be worked out in a matter of minutes, things I do not have time for right now. So instead of pondering any longer, I snap the pants into place, turning around. Ethan's already done and waiting on me.
He stands in the doorway, wearing the same clothes from yesterday. I don't exactly get a lot of "male" outfits. But now that I think about it, there are a few unisex button ups and jeans in there- so I grab his hand and drag him towards my closet. He looks around in amazement. This isn't something people see everyday, though most get the sense that the president's wardrobe is huge, since we're rarely seen wearing the same thing.
My eyes dart straight towards the unisex rack, at the same time my hand lunges forward to grab the shirt. I hand it to him and he gives a silent thanks. Nobody wants to show up to the White House in the same clothes you wore yesterday, especially if you're coming from the residence. I couldn't think of anything more socially suicidal if I tried.
And that's why I increased the wages, to the extent I had control over- for at least the next four years. Taking care of my employees is one of my top priorities, behind the country of course. In just eight months, it'll be my child.
When we're both fully ready, we head down the elevator. But instead of walking normally, side by side like coworkers- it's in a way that clearly says we're comfortable with each other. The senior staff already knows about...that night. Oh boy are they in for a surprise now.
I hesitate outside of the door. This could go one of two ways. One- I get the standard congratulations and we go through this meeting peacefully. Two- they start debating on when to tell the public, how, or if it's necessary before the birth. Whether I like it or not, though I'm the one carrying it, this will affect them too.
My staff will have to deal with hearing about or being questioned by reporters every day on my pregnancy- on how I'm doing. Hell, even when they're interviewed reporters manage to make it about me instead of them.
"What's it like working for Ally Feinstein?"
"Is she nice?"
"Do you feel comfortable, or are you allowed to talk about how she is behind closed doors?"
Those were just some of my favorites from one Morgan did last week. She blasted the reporter on it too, for having her take the day off to talk about me when that's what she does at work. I can only imagine how frustrating it is for somebody like her- a former mayor who took the position because her term had just ended and she wasn't ready for reelection. However long she sticks around, I'll be glad she gave it a shot.
I open the door to a full room. Immediately, I get bombarded from every direction. Some are messages of support, others are purely business- because regardless of what happened yesterday, I have a country to run.
"Madam President, I'm so glad you're feeling better." The new deputy chief of staff says. He's sucking up, I know he is. With Tao filling the Vice President's spot soon, it'll automatically go to him- though confirming it as his permanent position will be my job. This new guy is nice enough- from the little interaction I've had with him. It's just that his professional career is obviously more important to him. Not that there's anything wrong with that- I used to have his same mindset.
"Madam President, We've got the prime minister of Australia and the mayor of Las Vegas waiting on personal phone calls. When you're done with them we also have to discuss the crisis in New York." One of my assistants deals with the more pressing end of things.
"What...crisis in New York?" I sit down. "It was fine just hours ago."
"The local HUD department released a statement about an hour ago confirming that the homelessness rate has risen by two percent. We....obviously this shouldn't be possible, with the bills you introduced while in congress and ...all of the precautions that have been taken in the past decade." She continues. "Every bill does have it's loopholes and that two percent is only five people...but still. We want to stop this in its tracks if you want people to take you seriously."
She's right. At the same time, there are plenty of other things they might not take me seriously for. I focus my attention on the screen, filled with the HUD statement.
It is with great sadness that we announce two hundred and fifty people are currently living on the streets of New York- a two percent increase from our last report. During this time, we ask that those who are able provide for these individuals do so. We are also doing what we can, but we are overloaded. Thank you.
"What's the HUD Administrative budget for New York?" I turn my head to our financial advisor.
He pulls up a list. "Half a billion dollars."
"Then what's the damn issue? They've got the money. Surely they can find housing for two hundred and fifty people." I roll my eyes, frustrated.
"No-" he shakes his head. "They're stretched extremely thin, with having to find the money to house all those they already do- about seven thousand people, that's including their bills, building upkeep, and the money they have to pay the employees."
I lean back, feeling hopeless- then a thought occurs, one that I know the entire room will reject. Doing the right thing is never easy, nobody said it was.
"Okay...." I clear my throat. "I'll pay for them- all of them."
Heads snap up. Those who were focusing on graphics no longer are, instead looking intently into my eyes. It would be uncomfortable for those who aren't used to it. "No. Absolutely not." The financial advisor says. "Do you have Twenty million dollars a year to spare?"
"Yes. And why not?" I cross my arms. My money= my money. He can tell me how stupid it is all he wants, but at the end of the day, he has no say in if I actually do it or not.
"You can't use your personal money to pay for a government issue."
"I don't see how helping those in need is a government issue." I shrug.
"She does have a point-" Tao interjects. "World leaders give to charity from their own bank accounts all the time. This isn't any different. We'll split it."
"Tao you don't have-"
"Yes I do. Family inheritance." He shrugs. "I just don't like talking about it...but since I'm going to hold one of the most public positions in the world soon, I figured- oh what the hell?"
I smile. So I guess we are splitting it, then. This'll give the public a reason to love him from the get go. Even if we are just genuinely trying to be good people, we're politicians. This looks good politically.
"Okay..." I nod. "Can somebody get the mayor of Las Vegas on the line? We'll start with him and then move to the prime minister. Whatever they want to discuss must be urgent as well."
Right away, one of the highest ranking interns switches the screen to a FaceTime call. In seconds, she's got it ringing, waiting on the mayor to pick up. There's a long, drawn out silence.
Nobody speaks. Mayors don't usually demand to talk to the president- it's often the other way around because most of them see us as too busy to make time for local officials, though that's far from true. I can't speak to other administrations, but mine is one where everybody will get a piece of my time.
When she finally answers, she looks like she's been run over by a bus- and all five of her children are running around in the background. Christ- am I gonna look like that?
"Madam President, I am so sorry for the wait. My nanny quit." She gestures to the scene behind her.
"Don't worry about it." I put on my politician's smile. "What happened?"
"I just wanted to inform you about a possible serial killer." She states. "There have been three murders in the county this month- as opposed to one last year. Are you okay?"
She notices my frozen facial expression. Three? Jesus fuck- we haven't had more than three in the same city in a long time. Decades ago, that would be considered a low number. Now, with a mostly happy and mentally taken care of population- people can't fathom three.
I think part of it is also due to assisted suicide being as available as it is. Now, the average person can go into the doctors office- fill out some paperwork, give verbal consent multiple times, and leave in a body bag. A few countries that are lingering behind call the freedom barbaric, but we've always maintained the same position: forcing people to be alive who are in any type of pain is the barbaric thing.
"Yeah I'm... I'm fine." I lie to the mayor. "Does the local FBI have any suspects?"
"Four hundred and seventy two. Narrowing the subject down is going to take-"
"They've got him!" Also in the background,I hear somebody rush in. He's out of breath, clearly having run over from somewhere. He's wearing the standard FBI uniform, most likely an investigator. "He's at the- oh hey, Madam president. The killer is in custody. I'm agent brown- I've worked on the case."
"Hi- so everything's under control there?" I ask. From the way the two interact, it's clear that they're related in some way. He slowly nods as she turns her attention to him, looking like she wants to cut his head off for not getting here two seconds earlier, before she answered the call.
"Yes... ma'm." The mayor answers. "We're...sorry for wasting your time."
"Don't apologize-" I shake my head. "There's no such thing as wasted time...but we do have another call. Goodbye, mayor."
"Goodbye, Madam President." With that she ends our call. I glance at the clock. This hour is going faster than I expected- like time doesn't exist. From looking at our schedule, the prime minister isn't expecting us for ten more minutes. I could tell them now. This little pocket leaves them enough time to process my words and still be productive when we jump back in.
"Wait.... there's something I need to tell...everybody." Ethan squeezes my hand under the table. I don't know what the rest are thinking. It could be anything from "oh my god they're in a relationship" to "You've got to be fucking with me, we're already under scrutiny because of last night- what else is there?"
It's not my job to poke around their heads, just to keep them informed. I try to make eye contact with the entire room. As I do so, I get flashbacks of my mother's second pregnancy. She did everything right- ate healthy, exercised, took the medication she was prescribed. In the end- she had a stillbirth.
That year, it was one of the only in the world- and was blasted all over the news just because I'm her daughter. If we're being realistic, she was forty seven. I don't know what she expected. She was already going through the early stages of menopause and getting pregnant in the first place was a medical miracle.
I don't blame what happened on her. I would never, but I'm just considering basic math and statistics. I only saw it for a split second; that baby would have been beautiful.
I can only hope mine will be close to that pretty.
Looking at their expectant, waiting faces now- I realize I can't put this off any longer.
"I'm...pregnant."
Silence. Absolute silence. For over thirty seconds, mouths hang open like they want to say something, but refrain from doing so. This moment feels like one that only occurs in movies- like when the protagonist is all dramatic over something so small, except this is big.
Tao sets the iPad down he was holding, sliding it into the center of the table with the rest. Despite their silence, none of them are being judgmental. I have to believe they're just thinking.
"Well...now would probably be a good time to...go ahead with..my inauguration." Tao stutters.
"What?" I tell him I'm pregnant, and that's the first thing on his mind? He can't be- oh. Oh. The more I think about it, the more I get what he's really saying, and it terrifies me.
"He's right." Lilith whispers from the corner of the room. "The public....once they find out, will want to feel secure. Even with the line of succession established...having a pregnant president and no Vice President could cause some unrest."
So people are still afraid of pregnancy- though the mortality rate for mothers has dropped to such an insignificant level. I get why. People have been dying in childbirth for thousands of years....the babies not being any luckier.
"NO something's wrong, I can feel it!!" My mother screams, positioned on her side. The room smells strongly of bodily fluids, so much so that I'm tempted to plug my nose- despite her distress.
Her one night stand didn't show up. Neither did my dad, so I'm her only support system. She's been gripping my hand for the past three hours, so hard that I though it was broken at one point. When I wake up tomorrow, it'll definitely be bruised.
As another scream and contraction wracks her body, a doctor gently pushes me out of the way. Then another- and before I know it, I'm standing so far back that I can't see anything.
"C-Section equipment NOW!" One of the older doctors screams. I bite my thumbnail, trying to peek over one of their shoulders- instantly regretting it when I do, because I get a shot of them slicing into her stomach.
The worst part? Her morphine hasn't had a chance to spread yet.
There's a trick I learned years ago; one that keeps me sane in situations like this. You just leave your body- pretend your somebody else. Right now, I'm a grandfather sitting in the waiting room, waiting on a healthy child to be born.
My fantasy only last a few minutes. When they pull my half sister out of the womb- her umbilical cord is wrapped around her neck, and she's whiter that a ghost.
I shudder at the memory. For now, all I can do is hope my birth goes well. "Okay..." My voice trails off. "We'll do it tomorrow."
———
For something pulled together so quickly- I have to admire the effort. Instead of being sad, it looks like our decorators have been working on it for months. Everything's been scaled back from a traditional inauguration, of course- having given the media such short notice. For the first time ever, it'll be held in the White House.
Instead of the usual crowd of reporters, two representatives from each major station have been invited. That includes Meg Haines, unfortunately. She'd probably find some way to claim a first amendment violation if she weren't the one her network selected. Right now, the place is empty- but soon- people will begin filing in. Tao's off somewhere, being prepped. Thank god the attention won't be on me today. I don't know how much more I could handle.
"There you are-" Lilith says, opening the door. "Camera crews'll begin setting up soon. Unless you want to be a part of that..."
She gestures for me to come with her. I smile- that woman has a sixth sense. She can tell when I'm not in the mood to deal with people, when I'd probably slap the shit out of them just for existing. So when she places her hand on my back, I don't flinch like I would with most people. Instead, I follow her down a hallway to an empty lounge.
Outside, some of the slower reporters are just arriving. I have no idea how many are lingering around, I'm just grateful to have this time to myself.
So while Morgan deals with them, I sit back- slowly sipping on my tea as I people watch. It's just the perfect temperature, too. I may be speaking too soon, but this pregnancy feels like it's going to be easy- physically at least. I don't get the sense that anything's wrong, not how my mother did. When I place my hand over my stomach, I'm glad I decided to keep whatever this thing is.
I probably shouldn't be referring to my fetus as a thing, but oh well. That's all it is, this early on.
"Ready?" Tao asks, standing in the doorway. Instead of his usual work suits, they've put him in a nicer one. I can't even begin to imagine how expensive it is. The material is almost reflective- but not in the trashy way, in a "I have more money that you, teehee" way.
"Sure." I push myself off of the couch. "Are you?"
With the way he looks at me, you'd think I killed a kitten. At sixty one- he's no stranger to the position he's about to take, so he knew what he was doing when he suggested himself.
I think it's just the nerves finally starting to get to him- which are only natural. He takes a deep breath, staring at the ceiling for so long I feel a need to check it out too.
"My mother was an immigrant." He declares. " when I was little she always talked about how... I would be the one to honor our family. She... saw something in me I couldn't imagine and...pushed me towards politics. I just wish she were around to see this."
For a second, I think he might cry, but then he wraps up his story and appears to be fine. "Tao...is this what you want to do?"
He simply nods.
"Then let's go. They'll probably be starting soon." I offer my hand. His own are shaking, so he gladly takes mine. I check the clock- we have minutes left now.
It's a good thing the room we're using is yards away, because Tao still needs a few to compose himself. He looks fine, presidential and all- but the sweating and eyes darting everything has to go.
"Damnit- snap out of it. You've got two minutes to pull yourself together, okay?" I hold onto both of his shoulders, forcing him to look at me. Some part of him must understand me, because he pulls a piece of cloth out of his pocket to dab his forehead with. "Good?"
He's clearly not.
"I'll....be fine." He manages to stutter out. "Just... can you do your speech first? I think I'll throw up if I have to."
Now that, I can do- if it'll help him calm down. So we walk in together. I'm amazed at just how quickly the room's filled up- maybe we should have used a bigger one.
I follow his request and step up to the podium. "Today is historic for multiple reason. Mr.Xinyi is the second Asian-American to be inaugurated into this position. He will be the first to do so as a result of another Vice President's death- but let me tell you who he is as a person, once again: he was quick to jump on the bandwagon when we were discussing how to pay for the housing crisis in New York, offering his own money as a solution. He is...more than fit for the job."
I get through my part with just a few breaths. At Tao's turn, he looks like he wants to pass out- but he manages to finish the whole thing.
Good- that was the hard part. Now he just has to recite a paragraph he's heard countless times in his life, one that any politician has. Justice Lee hands the constitution to a woman who I'm assuming is his daughter, and he nervously places his hand over it.
"Please raise your right hand and repeat after me." Justice Lee says, a smile on her face. She reads it out of her own memory, then focuses one hundred percent of her attention on Tao.
"I, Tao Xinyi- do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God."