Page 83 of State of the Union (First Family 3)

Mindy patted her shoulder. “It won’t happen today.”

Sam’s phone rang.

Nick checked the caller ID. “Scotty.”

Sam held out her hand for the phone. “Hey, pal.”

“Well, this is a fine mess, huh?”

Laughing, she said, “You said it.”

“Damn, Mom. Surgery and everything?”

“I don’t do anything halfway.”

“I guess not. Don’t worry, though. We’ll take care of you when you get home.”

“Aw, thanks. Not how I wanted to spend the vacation.”

“You suck at vacation. We all know that. Don’t worry about anything. Eli and I are taking care of the twins, and we’re going out to build the snow fort after lunch.”

“Thanks for helping with them.”

“I love having siblings. It’s so much fun. We’ll come see you later.”

“I’ll be here. Thanks for calling. Love you.”

“Love you, too, and don’t give the doctors any lip.”

“What? Me give people lip?”

They hung up laughing.

She took calls from Celia, both her sisters, her mother and Shelby before Mindy told her it was time to go. Sam reached for Nick, suddenly full of anxiety.

“It’s okay, babe. Just relax and let them take care of you. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He leaned over the bed to kiss her. “Take good care of my clumsy cop. She means everything to me.”

“It’s out of my hands this time.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Mindy asked for a number the doctor could call to update him when the surgery was finished.

Nick gave her Sam’s cell phone number and took the phone with him.

She and an orderly wheeled Sam out of the room toward the operating suite. As they navigated corridors, people stopped what they were doing to watch the first couple go by.

“Gotta love the goldfish bowl,” Nick muttered, giving her hand a squeeze.

The predictable comment made her smile and settled her nerves. With him by her side, she could get through anything. Even surgery for a busted fucking hip, of all things.

After sending Sam into surgery, Nick wanted a stiff drink. Seeing his usually unflappable wife seriously undone had rattled him. A fractured hip, of all things. The doctors had told him the surgery would take three hours, followed by another hour in recovery before he could see her.

“Let’s go home,” he said to Brant, even though he’d prefer to wait at the hospital. He had to do the security briefing, and setting up a secure space at GW would be too involved.

“Yes, sir. The main entrance and the door we used to get in are overrun with media since the statement was released, so we’re looking for a better way out.”

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