August 2002
Simon stopped by the front porch and looked at the scene in front of him. Nikki was bundled in a light blanket, head in CJ's lap, and the two were talking quietly on the porch swing. He stood there and drank in the sight – they hadn't noticed him yet – until CJ lifted her head suddenly, sensing his presence.
"Hey stranger," she smiled.
"Hi dad," Nikki called cheerfully.
Simon walked over to them and kissed CJ lovingly, then knelt beside the swing and kissed Nikki's forehead.
"You two make the sweetest picture," he smiled softly. He took CJ's hand in his, and with his other hand he caressed his daughter's hair.
Nikki smiled contentedly and whispered, "Can we stay like this for a while longer?"
The words hit Simon with an almost physical force. Nikki was stable for a couple of years and he was lulled into thinking they can keep coasting. But her last checkup was ominous – her lungs were deteriorating again, and Dr. West indicated it was time to seriously start thinking about placing Nikki on the national lung transplant list. It was a rude wakeup call for father and daughter – they were running out of time.
'Please, God, can we stay like this for a while longer?' he thought, as he nodded and stayed kneeling besides his girls.
Had it really only been three months since he started dating CJ, he wondered. The three of them have become a tight little family unit, and when he looked in CJ's eyes he saw the words hit her just as hard. How could he have been lucky enough to find a soul mate in the midst of the storm?
When he finally got up to set up Nikki's feeding apparatus, the girl was quiet, and seemed to be struggling with something. Eventually, she looked up at CJ and asked softly, "Would come and say goodnight when I'm in bed?"
"You bet," said CJ, stroking Nikki's hair. For the past three months, Simon's daughter didn't want CJ to come into her room and say goodnight, and CJ suspected the feeding tube had a lot to do with the girl's reticence.
"Nik," she said softly, "are you worried I might not be able to handle what I see?"
"My mom left…" Nikki stopped, afraid to voice her fears, but desperately needing reassurance from the woman she already loved as a daughter would a mother.
"I'm not your mom, Nikki. I can take the hard stuff. I won't leave." She sighed. "I'm not very lucky in love, so I can't promise you I won't get on your dad's nerves eventually," Nikki snorted a "yeah, right!" in response. "But I can promise you I'll never leave you. No matter what."
From that evening on, unless CJ was away with the President, she always joined Simon in tucking Nikki in, and saying goodnight.
***
February 2005
As the mourners left to go back to the house, Simon stepped near the mound of earth that covered Nikki's casket. He knelt down, one hand lightly digging into the soil. CJ knelt beside him, arms encircling his waist.
"CJ," his voice broke, head dropping, "it's cold and lonely here…"
"She isn't here, love," CJ whispered, "Simon, she's here…" she touched his chest, over his heart. "And here…" she touched the same spot on her chest. "And in so many other hearts. Simon, she isn't cold, and she isn't lonely."
'But God knows we are,' she thought silently, holding on to her husband.
'Oh Nik, we miss you so much!'