Chapter 12

Little Fox left the helicopter, crossed the lawn and entered into the White House yawning from the fatigue overwhelming her. She refused any offer for food or drink. All she wanted was rest. Still she walked up the stairs to her bedroom. Fern and Angela were on duty when she appeared carrying her high heels with her fur slung over her arm. She managed a smile at the agents. Her purse was hung over her neck like it was a horse's oat bag. The last ten days of campaigning on the Left Coast has left her totally exhausted.

"How is he?" she asked of Chris.

"We peeked in about fifteen minutes ago and he was sleeping comfortably," Fern replied.

"Is he snoring?"

Both agents shook their heads.

"Shit!" she growled. she loved having him snoring her ear. It was like a pacifier for her. Other women hated their husbands snoring, not her. She loved it ever since they were first married. She didn't know how she slept the first twenty-one of her life without him.

It was three am when she was notified that an important call awaited her.

"Put it through," she said, groggily. Most likely fighting in the East, she thought. "Hello," Little Fox thought.

"Madam President, this is Doctor David Goldman."

"Yes."

"Could you get your husband over to Bethesda immediately. Like pronto."

"Why?" she yawned.

"We got a organ donor. The heart awaiting Mister Cunningham here is perfect. The sooner we get him to surgery the better."

"Give us an hour," she hung up, feeling a surge of new energy shoot through her body. She raced to the door, "Quick, get two good sized agents with a gurney and bring it up here. We have a donor for my husband. He'll be getting a new hear tonight," she said excitedly. It was then that she realized that she was wearing a shiney silky and lace with lace. She was too elated to care.

As the agents flew into action, Little Fox started dressing as if she were putting in another day of making stops to state the reasons why she should be re-elected. She wanted to quit her campaigning and stay his last days of his life but Chris scolded her into leaving him. He promised he'd still be alive when she returned.

Being wheeled toward the elevator, Gabrielle noticed how blue his lips had become. Plus the ridges of his fingernails had more ridges which meant he was failing.

Doctor Goldman, the best cardiology surgeon in the world, was prepared to start the operation as soon as the patient was ready. He had his own anesthesiologist flown in as soon as they received the heart. It belonged to a twenty year old black man living in Washington, DC who was killed less than five hours before in a car accident. His license was clearly marked him as a organ donor.

Little Fox was given a private room to wait out the results of the operation on her husband. Into the fifth hour which was eight in the morning, she couldn't keep awake any longer. She closed her eyes to rest them and promptly fell into a deep sleep. It only seemed like a few seconds when a hand shook her. She opened them looking into the eyes of a short Jewish man wearing a yamulke. Little Fox could not recall the name of the skull cap so she called them beanies.

"Madam President?"

"Yes," she sat up, embarrassed by her wrinkled white satin blouse.

"Your husband made it through the surgery just fine. Now we have to wait to see if his body accepts the man's heart."

"That's wonderful, thank you, thank you, thank you," she hugged the man much to his discomfort. A beautiful woman his age embracing him. A brilliant doctor afraid of rejection of any beautiful woman. That was why he was a lonely bachelor. She felt his stiffness and stepped back with a smile on her face. "When can I see him?

"He'll be in recovery for a few hours."

"C.mon, I'll buy you the best breakfast in this hospital," she looped her arm through his. "I usually don't like facial hair but your beard looks nice. It gives you character."

"Oy vay," Doctor Goldman shook his head. "This hospital has the worst food anywhere. I'd rather be invited to the White House for a state dinner."

"That too," she held his arm tighter. "As soon as Chris can dress in a tuxedo, we'll make sure you will be invited. You can bring your wife too."

"I never married. I do not have a woman friend."

"Oh! I can take care of that too."

Chris' recovery was faster than expected. By election day, he was able to walk into the polls and cast the vote for his wife's re-election. Little Fox won all fifty states garnering over one hundred million votes. One thing that made her happy was there would be no more electioneering. She could never hold office again. Yes, she could run for congress again but that would be lowering herself. If Chris were alive when she left office for the new president, they were going to buy that large yacht and sail to all the ports of call in the world.