Project Apollo

Chapter 19

PART 2: INCUBATION

The White House – 7AM

President Hooper sipped on his coffee as the morning sun cascaded through his bedroom window. His first lady, Jeanne, wrapped her arms around him from behind. The dawn illuminated her fair complexion, blonde hair and long, lean face over his shoulder.

"Good morning, Honey." She was wearing a bathrobe, while he was already dressed for the day in his presidential suit and tie.

"Good morning, Dear."

"Have you heard from Kalli recently?" Their twenty year old daughter attended Brown University.

"No, you?" He shook his head. His gaze remained steadied on the South Lawn out of the window.

"Remember that house on Hickory Lane? Kalli and I used to throw the baseball in that yard every night after work." Nostalgia swept over the fossilized memory.

"She is still your little girl..." He nodded in agreement and started for the door, until his wife protested.

"Where do you think you're going?" She asked, putting her foot down. He stopped but did not turn to her; he waited for her to cross the peach carpet around to him.

"Well, I thought I would go lead the free world..." He responded coyly. She met him with a smile, seeing the lack of sleep accumulating under his eyes. She leaned in and kissed her husband on his clean shaven cheek.

"Not like that you're not." She straightened his tie to her exact specifications and gave his cheek a love tap. He smiled at his wife and then exited their bedroom. As soon as the President exited his bedroom, his lead Secret Service agent, Jackson Callahan, updated his comm channel.

"Rover in motion," the President stopped and turned to his lead agent. Callahan had black combed over hair that faded to gray down to his sideburns. His face had grown tighter with age, stretched into an Irish sallow.

"Good Morning, Jackson," he nodded.

"Good Morning, Mr. President," the President pivoted away from the agent and walked the halls, greeting each member of his staff, knowing every name by heart.

"Martha, how's Billy doing in baseball this season?" The President asked a cleaning lady, dusting the hallway clock. His staff admired him for his attention to personal interaction.

"He's doing well, Mr. President, he leads the conference in strikeouts. His curve ball has gotten a lot better this season," the smiling lady answered as he passed. The President spun to engage a moment further.

"Wow! Throwing curveballs? He could have a career in politics..." He winked at her as he turned to trot down the stairs.

He navigated the ornate hallways, passing over hardwood floor to marble tile to red carpet, until he reached the front foyer, where a metal detector was set up for visitors.

"How's your wife's treatments going, Jerry?" The President asked, offering a consoling pat on the security guard's back. The staff filtered in for the work day, smiling over at the President.

"She's responding well to the chemo, but it has definitely been a tough road. I wish it would work faster," Jerry responded.

"My favorite philosopher, Aristotle, once said 'Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.'" The President's eyes found Jerry's. "She'll be in my prayers," the security guard nodded his gratitude as the President continued on through the halls toward the Oval Office.