“Elijah will handle the statement,” Nick told her.
“Do you want me to introduce him, Mr. President?”
“I’ll do it,” Nick said, “but thank you.”
“Of course.”
She stepped aside to allow Nick to move toward the podium.
“Today has been one of the happiest days of my life and Sam’s,” Nick said. “With the formal adoptions of Elijah, Alden and Aubrey, our family is now complete in a way we never dreamed possible. We’re well aware that two extraordinary people had to die in the most horrific, senseless crime to make this day possible for us. Jameson and Cleo Armstrong are very present in all our lives and will remain so going forward. Sam and I are delighted to stand by Elijah’s side as he completes his education at Princeton and begins married life with his wife, Candace, and to be given the huge honor of helping to raise Aubrey and Alden. We love them with all our hearts and are the proudest parents in the world today to have four extraordinary children and an exceptional daughter-in-law to love for the rest of our lives. I’m pleased to introduce for the first time as my son, Elijah Armstrong-Cappuano.”
Sam’s heart had never felt bigger in her chest than it did as she heard Nick introduce Eli as his son.
Elijah stepped before the ravenous White House press corps, showing none of the nerves that must’ve been raging inside him. His composure made her so proud.
“Today, my brother, sister and I officially became members of the family that has wrapped their loving arms around us for every minute of the last six months since our parents were senselessly murdered. From that first horrible night, Sam and Nick and their extraordinary son, Scotty, stepped up for my precious brother and sister, opening their home and their hearts to two traumatized young children at the worst moment of their lives.
“All that love and support was extended to me, as well, and when it came time to make the most important decision of my life about who would be charged with helping me raise the twins while I finished college and started my career, I never hesitated to leave them exactly where they were, surrounded by the love of an extended family who’ve made it possible for the three of us to survive the unthinkable loss of parents we adored.
“I’m lucky to still have my mother in my life, in addition to my Cappuano family, and while I would’ve preferred to keep the twins’ maternal family in their lives, they very quickly showed me their true motivations. As they waged a public battle to upend the clear wishes of our parents that I serve as the twins’ legal guardian, they’ve never once inquired about the children’s well-being. It’s no secret that my father, Jameson Armstrong, was an incredibly successful businessman or that my siblings and I inherited an extensive estate after our parents’ deaths. The motives of the twins’ maternal relatives have always been clear. They’re after one thing and one thing only with this relentless desire to gain custody of my brother and sister—they want to get their hands on the money, especially since their once-profitable business enterprises have failed.
“I would ask them at this juncture to consider the trauma their grandchildren have endured following the loss of our parents and to leave us alone going forward. We’ve made our choice, and we’re honored and delighted to be official members of the Cappuano family as of today. We’ll have nothing else to say about this matter now or ever. Thank you.”
The reporters shouted questions at Eli as he left the room with Sam, Nick and Candace.
His wife embraced him the second they were behind a closed door. “That was perfect,” she said.
“Yes, it was,” Nick said.
“I can’t believe you came up with that on the fly,” Sam said.
“In a way, I’ve been preparing to say that for six months now. I was ready.”
“You did great,” Sam said.
“Shall we rejoin the celebration already in progress?” Nick asked.
“Let’s go,” Eli said with a smile. “That ice cream won’t eat itself.”
* * *
The next morning, Sam and Nick left the twins and Scotty in the capable hands of Eli and Candace for the night and were conveyed by motorcade to Nick’s cabin in Virginia, where they’d be treated to facials and a couple’s massage. The Secret Service had suggested the cabin as the easiest way to achieve the goal of a “spa weekend” without having to shut down an entire facility.
The aestheticians and massage therapists had been hired by Sam’s chief of staff, Lilia Van Nostrand, and had signed iron-clad NDAs to protect their privacy.
“I’ve never had a facial,” Sam told the woman who’d been assigned to her.
“Neither have I,” Nick said.
“You’re in for a treat.”
“This is delightful,” Sam said an hour later. “We need to do this more often.”
“We need to do a lot of things more often,” her husband said from the chair next to hers.
The two women giggled at his comment.
“Don’t forget those NDAs,” Sam said.
