“I do love the smell of woodsmoke.”
“I know you do. You want to go for a walk with me and do some breathing?”
“Since we’ve lost the kids to the game room, probably for the week, that sounds good.”
He extended a hand and escorted her down the steps. “Which way you want to go?”
“Surprise me.”
He was certain his Secret Service detail was close by, but for the moment, the agents were out of sight. “Brant and the others probably love it here as much as I do. It’s so sealed off and protected that their jobs become that much easier here.”
“Probably. I had no idea what to expect of this place, but it’s much bigger than I thought it would be and obviously a very involved operation. What do the people stationed here do when we’re not here?”
“I suppose they prepare for the next time we come.”
“That seems kind of boring.”
“From what I understand, it’s considered a great honor to be stationed at the president’s retreat, even if there are stretches of time between visits.”
“I’m just saying—an occasional visit wouldn’t be enough to keep me from being bored senseless the rest of the time.”
“Duly noted, love.”
They strolled aimlessly through wooded trails that went on for miles.
“It’s nice to be outside,” he said.
“I don’t know how you can stand being so cooped up in the White House.”
“I can’t stand it, but what’s the alternative?”
“We have to get you out of there more often.”
“I’m sure we’ll find a groove with that, eventually.”
“Sooner rather than later. I can’t have you going loco on me.”
“Who else would I go loco on?”
“Haha, very funny.”
“Speaking of funny, we heard that SNL is releasing their first Cappuano administration sketch this weekend with an interesting theme.”
Sam stopped walking and turned to him, giving him a wary look. “What theme?”
“Don’t shoot the messenger. Promise?”
“What theme, Nick?”
“Um, I believe the words used were ‘dry hump.’”
“What? Dry hump? What the hell is that about?”
“Terry thinks it’s, um, a nod to our rather obvious affection for each other.”
“Stop it.”
“I’m sure it’ll be hilarious.”