First Lady (21 page)
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Dev tossed the pen down on her desk and stood up to stretch. Rolling her neck, she decided to take a walk through the plane and see what the press was up to. They were on their way back to
Jefferson County
,
Thinking of home and a hot bath, she wandered to the back of Air Force One and entered the area where the press always traveled. As soon as they realized she was in the room, several of the reporters stood to greet her. She smiled and waved them off. “Relax, everybody. I’m just stretching my legs.” Devlyn was dressed in black slacks and a casual sweater, having discarded her blazer after entering the plane. Taking a seat on a table in the front of the room, she let her hands rest in her lap.
“That was a good trip, ladies and gentlemen.”
A round of general murmurs of approval met her words, and she relaxed further into her seat, pleased that things had gone so smoothly.
“How are the wedding plans, Madam President?” The reporter from the Post continued to twirl the pen in his hand, but made no move to record Devlyn’s words. The atmosphere with the press on Air Force One was decidedly casual, with a certain level of mutual trust and respect between all the parties.
Devlyn laughed and bit her lip. “I’m not sure my mother is speaking to me at the moment. I haven’t been around much lately and I haven’t given her or my social secretary as much input as they would like. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it,” blue eyes twinkled, “most of my participation has been via telephone and email.”
A woman in the back lifted her camera high over her head, and Dev gave her a quick nod. Permission granted to take photos.
“Actually, Michael Oaks and my mom are working very hard to make sure things go off without a hitch. I’m a little worried though, because Secretary Oaks came into my office the other day and asked Lauren and me, ‘blue or white?’ That was it, nothing else, and he didn’t say what I was giving my opinion on.”
“You could have asked,” a press corps member reminded her wryly.
“I could have,” Dev agreed, saying nothing more.
“So what color did you select?”
“I said blue.”
“And Ms. Strayer?”
“She looked up from her laptop and grunted what I assumed to be her agreement. Sometimes she gets a little engrossed in her work. I can’t imagine how that could happen.”
This time Devlyn joined in the laughter.
“I may have agreed to something totally hideous.” She adjusted at the table and got more comfortable. “Keep your fingers crossed for me.”
“Madam President, getting information about the wedding has been darn near impossible.”
“You don’t say?” Dev answered wryly.
“Is there anything you can tell us?”
“C’mon, Madam President,” another reporter joined in. “Throw a wild pack of dogs a bone.”
Dev thought for a moment, then nodded. “I can tell you that the wedding will be a small ceremony held in
There was a chorus of groans.
“But the ceremony will be private.” Dev nearly laughed at the devastated looks on their faces. “Don’t worry, when Lauren and I get back from our honeymoon, we’ll host a formal reception at the White House. It should be a grand event, and cameras, and all of you, will be welcome.”
Dev's expression went serious. “As most of you know, Lauren is an extremely private woman, who is still adjusting to life in the public eye. But even if she were used to all the hounding, it wouldn’t matter. Our wedding is something just for us that we want to share with the people we love. I hope you can all respect that.”
“How do your children feel about this?”
An involuntary smile crossed Dev's face. “My children are ecstatic. They love Lauren, as does my entire family. As a matter of fact, Lauren has already attended her first parent/teacher conference, while I was stuck in
Chicago
.”
Devlyn remembered how nervous Lauren had been when she explained what happened at the parent/teacher conference. The blonde woman had waited until Dev was nearly asleep and had been buttered up to the max before spilling the beans. Dev hated having to punish Ashley, but the look on her daughter’s face when she told her that her next month’s allowance would be donated to the charity of her choice, assured Dev she was doing the right thing. Ashley would hold her tongue next time. Or, as Lauren pointed out, be really, really poor.
Devlyn still wasn't quite sure why Lauren used her last three weeks' poker winnings to buy a used refrigerator and have it sent to Ashley's school. She silently vowed to ask more about that later.
“Have you considered running for a second term?”
The question brought Dev out of her musings. “I’ve been considering it, but before I make a firm decision, there’s a lot I need to discuss with my family and my advisors.”
“Where are you going on your honeymoon?”
Dev was used to the ping-ponging of questions from topic to topic, and she easily rolled with the punches. “I have no idea. The honeymoon is Lauren’s wedding gift to me, and it’s a surprise.”
“Is it hard to keep a surprise from you?”
Devlyn rolled her eyes. “You’d think it would be, wouldn’t you?
But I can assure you she and my chief of staff are managing quite nicely. As President, most of the surprises I get aren’t that pleasant, so this will be a very nice change of pace. I’m just holding my breath and hoping that we’ll get two weeks together that aren't interrupted by anything big.” She blinked as she thought about what she’d said. Then she reached over to the table and knocked on it twice. “You don’t need to print that last statement; let’s not tempt fate and give the nuts any ideas.”
“Will Ms. Strayer assume the typical duties associated with being First Lady?”
“That will be up to Lauren. I do know that she has hired Beth McMillian as her chief of staff. I think she and David McMillian will be the first husband and wife team in history acting as chiefs of staff. ”
“Madam President, just about everything associated with your presidency is a first.”
Dev smiled. “True enough.”
“Will Ms. Strayer be taking the name Marlowe?”
Devlyn was careful to keep her expression neutral when she answered this question. Samantha had eagerly taken her name. Dev knew she was being silly and that her ego was rearing its sometimes-inflated head, but the fact that Lauren wanted to keep her name had stung a little. It wasn’t until Lauren teasingly suggested that they could solve the problem by Devlyn and the children taking the name Strayer that Devlyn realized how silly she was being. “No, she’ll be keeping her name. As will I.”
“Isn’t it traditional for the wife—” The man stopped mid-sentence, clamping his jaw down hard as he felt his face heat
“The wife to take her husband’s name?” Devlyn finished gently, feeling sorry for the man and hoping that the other reporters would have mercy on him and not quote him. “I believe it is. Though it’s increasingly rare. However, since there will be no husband in this marriage, we’ll be making our traditions, don’t you think?”
The man nodded, grateful, Dev had taken his stupid comment in her stride.
“It’s a brave new world, people. Let’s not chicken out now.” She clapped her hands together. “Enough business. Who wants to play cards?”
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DEV WAS LOOKING forward to calling it a day and grabbing a shower before the party. It wasn’t being called a bachelor or bachelorette party, it was just “The President’s party” and Lauren’s was just hers. The children had indignantly demanded their own when they found out they weren't invited to the others. And their mother had eagerly complied. By necessity and protocol, her children were excluded from 99% of the social events at the White House. When an opportunity arose for them to have their own fun, she never begrudged it.
She couldn’t help but grin as she recalled Ashley saying, in a slightly miffed voice, “Fine, be that way, but don’t be surprised if I don’t invite you to my party.” When Dev inquired about what party that might be, she was told it would be held in the family room, involve Sorry, Junior Monopoly, cartoons, all the popcorn you could eat, and was “invitation only.” Dev wondered if the children's party might not turn out better than the one David was planning for her.
Dev pushed away from her desk and slowly padded back to the residence. Liza trailed after her, quickly informing her of the next day's appointments, and a bevy of Secret Service and various other aides clustered around her. By the time she turned the corridor for the Presidential apartment, the Secret Service agents had taken their posts at the ends of the hallway, and she was allowed to walk the rest of the way alone. She sighed happily, already plotting the quick removal of her pantyhose and the heart-stopping kiss she wanted to give Lauren.
When she opened the door to her apartment, the smell of warm, fresh-baked cookies tickled her nose. She all but groaned.
Emma walked past holding a treat-laden tray. Dev snagged one before Emma could move it away. "Mmm… I'm still too quick for you, Emma," Dev teased as she chewed with extra relish. The only thing better than eating a cookie was eating a cookie that you weren't supposed to be eating.
"Humph." Emma glanced down at the tray. "Those are for the children's party. We managed to round up most of the children of the people attending your and Lauren's party. Besides, aren't you turning 40 this year, Madam President?" Emma's eyes twinkled.
"Maybe," Dev answered warily.
"Then you should be slowing down enough for me to keep you away from the cookies soon enough."
Dev scowled at the good-natured barb, then winked at the matronly women, reaching out to give her a fierce one-armed hug. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”
“Devil,” Emma only used the Marlowe family nickname in the most private of times with the tall woman, "you know I hate that song."
Dev burst out laughing.
“But I love you, too, and these children." Emma beamed at her employer and long-time friend. "I’m so happy for all of you. Lauren is a wonderful girl.”
“Girl?" Dev gave Emma a look, and the older woman smiled unrepentantly. "She's not that much younger than I am!" Dev groaned. “Remind me not to tease you again, Emma."
Emma snorted, the action so enthusiastic her large bosom jiggled. "Like you ever listen."
Dev ignored that last comment, knowing it was completely true. "I did hit pay dirt with Lauren, didn't I?"
Emma nodded fondly, enjoying the gleam in Dev's eye that had been missing for so many years.
"How can one person get this lucky twice in a lifetime?" Dev marveled, looking skyward.
"Madam President," Emma said haughtily as she leaned again the sofa. "After all this time, haven’t you realized that you make your own luck?"
Dev grinned broadly, loving that thought.
“Besides, I always had faith you'd find someone. You weren't meant to be alone.”
Dev felt a lump developing in her throat, and she leaned over and kissed Emma's cheek as she wrestled her emotions under control. Then she stepped back. “So are you going to chaperone the kids' wild party?”
“Oh, yes, I'll be here until bedtime, then I'll take you and Lauren both up on your invitations and stop by each of your parties. But I'd better stay for the entire length of the children's party. I expect security will have to be called in when Ashley's Go Fish tournament gets out of hand because Aaron has an ace up his sleeve.”
Dev shook her head. “Don’t give them any ideas; I can barely keep up with them as it is." She let out a slow breath as she bent and slipped off her shoes. It brought her an inch closer to Emma's height. "Well, I’m off to take a shower and get dressed. Tell the kids I’ll try to sneak back to tuck them in, and they get an extra hour tonight.”
“Oh, goody,” the older woman said dryly, rolling her eyes as she re-arranged the cookies. “Have a good time until I get there. Just not too good. I don't want to miss anything. I don't get out much, you know.”
Dev prudently didn't remind Emma about the exploits she and her sister had regaled her with after their Christmas cruise. When those two women got together, they were something else. “I intend to. If you need me…”
“You’ll be the last to know. Later, Devil.”
“See you later, Emma.”
Emma waved at Devlyn as she made her way to the family room to set up her tray. Devlyn headed in the opposite direction. She blinked when she opened her bedroom door and heard the faint hum of her shower in the attached bathroom. "Her shower is still broken? I really should make sure somebody does something about that. Heh." Dark eyebrows waggled lecherously. "I wonder if she'd notice if it mysteriously broke again next week? And the week after that. And the week after that." Even though they saw each other and often slept in each other's beds, the separate quarters thing was wearing very thin for Devlyn. Only another month, she told herself with no little irritation.
