It’s easier for him to get to the White House than it is for us to get to the townhouse. We can’tdo that—not without the whole of DC knowing it because of road blockages for the motorcade. Doesn’t matter what books and movies show, it’s impossible for POTUS or FSOTUS to sneak around unnoticed.
After the press and photographers are ushered out to give us a few minutes of privacy, I’m sure Fullmer thinks he’s scoring some sort of point against me when he opens his damn mouth.
“You know, youdidn’t have to marry someone in the Secret Service to get protection from them,SenatorSamuels. It comes with the job.”
Before Chris or I can even process Fullmerreallysaid that, Kevin responds without missing a beat. “Oh, you mean like you didn’t have to marry any of your mistresses because you already had a wife at home, President Fullmer?”
Bam.
I reach out and exchange an exploding fistbump with Kev.
This is just one reason why I desperately love this man.
Unsurprisingly, the carpool ride to the Capitol is even chillier than than the air outside. I’m sure neither Fullmer nor Jackson—or their spouses—are happy about being relegated to the one-term club. Jackson knows his chances at ever being elected POTUS now are slim to none, considering his age and poll numbers comparedto mine and Elliot’s.
I briefly consider joking that we should open a window to let some warm air into the limo. I think Chris anticipates that, because he squeezes my hand to get my attention and gives me a playful smirk I know means,Behave, girl.
As we all take our places outside the US Capitol for the swearing in ceremony, I try not to let the sight of the swarms of people tightly packedinto the National Mall overwhelm me. Chris holds my hand as the ceremony begins, and it’s weird how time seems to race and yet simultaneously crawl as things proceed.
Elliot is sworn in first, per tradition. He has his sister hold the family Bible he uses to take the oath administered to him by Associate Justice Carlos Sampere.
Then it’s my turn.
Chief Justice Lise Pritchard will administermy oath, which I’ve opted to take on Momma’s copy ofBlack’s Law Dictionary, and her tattered, mini leather-bound version of the Constitution. Every time she was sworn into office, she swore her oath on both books.
As I place my hand on those books, which Chris holds for me, the enormity of the situation hits me.
I’m about to take an oath in front of the entire world.
“I ShaeLynn Elrod Samuels,do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.”
At least there will be pictures and video of this moment so I can go back and watch it. Because as I raise my hand and repeat the words and officially step onto the world’s stage, I can’t help butwish Kevin was standing there next to Chris, both of them holding the books I am swearing upon.
So help me god.
* * * *
The luncheon in Statuary Hall features shrimp and grits, filet Oskar, smoked mullet, corn on the cob, and Key Lime Pie, among other dishes. It’s an ode to me and Elliot, and some of our favorite dishes.
I hope in eight years I’m able to sit back and proudly watch him takethe oath I just took. He’s a good man, and he’s going to be a damned good VP.
The crowds along the Inaugural Parade route are surprisingly enormous. It’s even colder than it was this morning, it’s windy, and all I want to do is get to the White House, but I insist on walking some of the route despite Chris trying to talk me out of it. I know his concern is as my husband, but even more as an experiencedagent who worked The Shift first-hand. After a ride in the limo down the parade route, Chris, Elliot, and I get out to walk the last eight blocks.
Outside the limo, the crowd’s intensity is stunning, roaring cheers as we pass, including people chantingSAM-UELS! SAM-UELS!
I could kiss Christopher and Kev for suggesting I wear flats today. It makes the walk so much easier. The last thing I wantis me tripping and face-planting and having it immortalized for all to see.
I wish Momma and Daddy were here. I’m not a believer in religion, but maybe if there’s an afterlife, she’s watching this, proud of me, and cheering me on.
I hope.
Even today, on this most incredible of days, an image still flashes to mind that I have to shove away or risk it making me sick.
Despite it being a promisekept.
Another reason I never wanted children of my own—so they don’t feel obligated to keep ill-conceived promises I might be selfish and short-sighted enough extract from them.
Chris holds my hand as we walk. The entire way, he keeps me firmly between him and Elliot. I can see he’s in protective mode as he constantly scans the crowds.
