Author's Note: This chapter is a fill-in for The Elephant in the Room. We know that this episode takes place sometime during the week preceding Memorial Day weekend. For my purposes, Mac has surgery on Wednesday and returns home on Friday, making her conversation with Templeton that evening. For the sake of brevity, this chapter begins with Dr. Brock telling Rod that Mackenzie is out of surgery. In spite of that, this is the longest single chapter I've written but... oh well.

One of my major frustrations with the show has always been the lack of a true dialogue between Rod and Mackenzie concerning the impact of the Presidency on them as individuals, on their relationship, and on their family; and how they ultimately will make it all work. These conversations, in my opinion, are critical to any drama concerning a First Family. But we have not seen them explored much on the show; and the few times they have been addressed, Rod and Mac have never been allowed to really finish the conversation. This is my attempt for our First Couple to finally have and finish those conversations using Mac's illness and surgery as a catalyst. Except for Rod's telephone conversation with Kate, All italicized dialogue is taken directly from the show.

3. CROSSROADS

"Rod..."

"Oh... hey. So how is she?"

"She's fine. She's fine. The damage was more than expected but they did a great job, expect a hundred percent recovery."

"So is she awake?"

"No... she should sleep most of the night."

"Yeah... so these complications, were they?"

"It got dicey for awhile but... she's tough."

"Yeah."

"I guess you don't get to be President without being made of steel... right?"

"Yeah... thanks." As Dr. Brock turned away, Rod took a deep breath of relief, and said, "Okay." He turned around to talk with the twins, Kelly and Vince.

"Is everything okay, Dad?"

Rod put his arm around his oldest daughter. "Mom's fine, Becca." Then addressing all four of them, he said, "Mac's out of surgery. Everything went well. But she'll probably sleep all night. Kelly, call Jim and let him know about the President's condition and then consult with Dr. Brock about briefing the press."

"Yes, sir," Kelly responded, already dialing the White House number.

"Vince, you and the twins get some dinner and get something for Kelly, too. Then I want all of you to go to the hotel and get some sleep."

"Dad, what are you going to do?" asked Horace.

"I'm going to call grandma and Amy and then sit by Mom for awhile."

"We're not leaving." Becca was empathetic.

"I'm staying, too." Vince and Horace both said at the same time.

Rod sighed. He was too tired to argue; and he recognized how important it was for the twins to feel like they were being treated like adults. "Okay. But get something to eat and then try and get some sleep. Vince, talk to the Service and see if they can't find a couple of rooms for you guys to crash in."

"Yes, sir."

"When can we see Mom?"

"Likely tomorrow morning Becca, when she wakes up. So make sure you get some sleep tonight. Okay?"

"Okay. Kiss her for me?"

"Will do."

After they left, Rod sat down and called home.

"Hello."

"Kate..."

"How is she, Rod?"

"She's going to be okay. She's out of surgery and still asleep. They expect she'll be out all night."

"Why did it take so long?"

"Well, her appendix had burst. Apparently it was touch and go for awhile. I never should have let her on that plane, Kate."

"You're not at fault. We both know that there was nothing either of us could have done to stop her. But she can't go on like this, working twenty hours a day."

"I know."

"You're going to have to talk with her, Rod. She's killing herself."

"You're right... But it's not going to be easy. Listen, I've got to go. I want to be there in case she needs anything. Kiss Amy for me, assure her everything's okay."

"I will. But try and get some sleep yourself."

"Goodnight, Kate."

After he hung up, Rod went directly to Mac's room. Dr. Brock was still there. "Did Kelly find you?"

"Yeah, I gave her a statement and referred her to the surgeon. I also told her I'd make myself available for questions in the morning."

"Thanks. How is she?"

"She looks much better. But she really will sleep most of the night." Dr. Brock turned his attention from his patient to her husband. "Rod, it was a really close call. If we'd arrived any later... well, the outcome likely would have been very different. Her surgeon did a great job. But we were also very lucky."

Rod nodded, not wanting to really process what the doctor had just told him. "Can I go sit with her?"

"Of course. I'm going to get something to eat but they'll page me if anything comes up–but it won't. Her vitals are good, her color's returning... she's going to be fine."

Rod nodded and went to his wife. He studied her close. She did look better and she didn't appear to be in any pain. Suddenly the emotions of the day caught up to him and he was hit with the realization of just how very close he came to losing her. Fighting back tears, he bent down and gently kissed her on the forehead before pulling up a chair next to her bed. He leaned forward and put his face in his hands. Silently he said a prayer of thanks.

Breathing deeply he leaned back and watched his wife sleep. His thoughts kept returning not only to Dr. Brock's words but also to his conversation with Kate. She was right, Mac couldn't continue with the pace in which she was working... nobody could. There were also other issues they needed to talk about, too. While things had settled down between them since he'd moved back into the East Wing, there was still a distance between them that he hated and that he knew would eventually cause great damage to their relationship. Also at stake, were issues affecting the kids. The problem, he realized, was there never seemed to be any time to talk or work on their relationships. They were never alone long enough. He knew what Mac's initial reaction would be when he raised the subject. But the time had come. He couldn't put off these conversations any longer–not with her health and their family in jeopardy.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Except for checking on the twins, Rod stayed with her most of the night. A couple of times, she stirred but she never really awakened. In the morning, he again went to check with the kids, and to give Kelly, Vince and Jim an update, leaving word with Dr. Brock to get him immediately if Mac awakened. Jim also gave him an update about what really had been going on in Mac's absence.

He had been sitting with the others, when Dr. Brock told him Mac was awake. He hurried back to her bedside and perched on the arm of the chair he had spent the night in. Resting his left arm on her collarbone, he smiled tenderly. "Hey... you had us going for awhile there." He wouldn't tell her just how close a call they'd had... not until later.

Mac smiled weakly but then looked towards the window. "This is not the same day, is it?"

Rod shook his head. "No."

"Was I out all night?"

"Pretty much." He took a deep breath. "Don't you do that ever again."

"I don't think I can." Mac smirked and stuck out her chin. "I'm pretty sure I only have one appendix."

"Smart ass," Rod told her lovingly as he brushed his fingers along her very stubborn chin.

"So... anything bad happen?"

He didn't answer immediately as he pondered the wisest course to take. Eventually, however, he decided to just tell her the truth. "Not bad, exactly. But a couple of issues did come up. Are you sure you're up to talking about this now?"

"We have to, Rod. I'll be fine." Mac moved to sit up.

Rod restrained her. "Hang on a minute. Let me help you." He propped up her pillows and adjusted the bed into more of a vertical position. "Is that comfortable? What about some pain reliever?"

"I'm fine. Thank you. Please talk to me."

"Okay, Madame President." He sat back down. "There was a Liberation of Palestine Organization suicide bombing at a bus stop ten miles outside of Tel Aviv. Jim advised Templeton to call the Israeli's and urge restraint but he refused claiming 'Israel has the right to defend itself.'"

Mac took a deep breath, feeling a rising frustration over yesterday's events. "What else?"

"Templeton also had the House pass a resolution for binding arbitration over the airline strike. And the National Mediation Board ruled in favor of the airlines and ordered the pilots back to work. Of course, Templeton is now claiming a total victory for himself."

"How long is this new deal in effect?"

"Sixty days."

"Dammit Rod. The man just undid months of hard work and good will. I need to speak with Jim and immediately resume office."

"Slow down, Mackenzie. Jim's minding the store. He'll call if anything comes up. I understand you need to get back to doing your job, but you just had surgery. I don't want you doing anything without doctor approval."

"Then get Brock in here–immediately. And help me get dressed. I'm not seeing anybody like this... and there are people I need to see. I need to be briefed because I am resuming Office."

All Rod could do was smile knowingly and do what she asked.

A relatively short-time later, Mac, dressed in her own pajamas and robe with a stack of papers in front of her and reading glasses on, was on the phone with Jim, having been briefed and having resumed her Office.

Rod stood just outside talking with Dr. Brock, who had examined Mackenzie and given her the green light to work from bed–within limits. Rod knew that his wife would likely begin testing those limits very shortly. While she looked better and stronger, he knew that she was operating on pure adrenaline, stubbornness, and anger over Templeton. "Kyle, I'm worried about her, worried she's doing too much, too fast."

"You should be concerned. She had major surgery yesterday with a lot of internal damage and infection."

"What does she need?"

"Bed rest... it's that simple."

Rod nodded and raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Try telling her that..."

"Good luck... I'm here to back you up," Dr. Brock told him as both men re-entered the room.

"These workers will almost certainly strike at the end of the sixty-day period," the President was saying, "and guess what, it's their right to do so... Not separately, together. In person, in the Roosevelt Room, first thing Monday. I don't care that it's the holiday... Thanks, Jim."

She hung up the phone and spoke to Dr. Brock. "When's the soonest I can leave?"

"You're starting to sound like a typical patient."

"I'm feeling much better and I happen to travel with my own Doc 24/7."

"Nice try. The earliest–it's not my ideal choice, but maybe with a health care crew aboard, first thing in the morning."

Mac took off her glasses and nodded. "Good. The country needs to know I'm back." Then she turned her attention away from her doctor and husband in favor of the television screen where an earlier press conference of then Acting President Nathan Templeton was being aired.

"Morning," Templeton exclaimed as he walked behind the podium in the White House press room. "Effective immediately, the strike that has frozen the nation's travel industry, and threatened our economy, has stood to ruin this holiday weekend of the American people, has ended..."

Watching his wife, Rod saw that she was resolute. However, he could tell she was really on the verge of tears: seeing her rival claim victory, having worked so hard on this issue, and knowing that, in fact, she was now back to square one. "The good news is," he told her, "it's over. The bad news is that we just have to live with the consequences."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The following evening Rod leaned against a column on the West colonnade while Mac spoke with Templeton. They'd arrived home earlier in the day. While he and Brock, with an assist from Kate, had been able to get her to rest most of the afternoon, neither could derail her from this meeting with Templeton. So he'd insisted on not only accompanying her downstairs but also that she use the wheelchair until they reached the Oval Office door. Rod understood why she needed to do this, he just wasn't crazy about the timing of it. Fortunately, he'd been able to talk with Jim, Kate and the kids at length this afternoon while she slept. And all of them had been in agreement with the weekend plans he'd silently made on the trip home. Beginning to feel the effects from worry and a lack of sleep, he took a deep breath. He wondered what was going on in there and decided that he'd hate to be in Templeton's shoes tonight.

"Madame President," Nathan exclaimed entering the Oval. He approached the President, who was working at her desk.

"Mr. Speaker, good of you to come."

"You look great." He stopped a few feet in front of her desk. "Are you sure it's okay for you to be up and running?"

The President took off her glasses, gave him an almost wicked smile, and leaned back in her chair, never losing eye contact with him. "Did you really think you had the right to come in here and make policy changes?"

Perching himself on the arm of one of the chairs, he responded, "Not only the right, but the obligation. I saw what I thought... what I think, is the perfect solution to the desperate problem this nation was facing and I enacted it."

The President leaned forward and sat up straight. "My mediation team was on the verge of getting a concession from the workers that would have resulted in a contract that both labor and management could have signed. That's not going to happen now... because all of the good will that was cultivated in getting there is gone."

"That's not true. You know it and I know it. You were no closer to an agreement yesterday than you were a month ago. This country could not wait any longer... so I acted in this country's behalf."

The President threw down the pen she'd been holding and shook her head. "You didn't do this for the country. You didn't do it on anyone's behalf. You used this Office. You used the American people... for your campaign, for your cronies, for your massive ego."

"That's nonsense. What I did, I did for this country. I liberated it. You couldn't make a decision from this Office well, I could and I did."

Leaning on her desk for support, the President stood and faced him eye to eye. "And if I ever needed another reason to prevent you from holding this Office, I have it now. And I'm going to do everything in my power–and I have the power–to see that never happens."

"You can't prevent me from holding this Office. That's for the People to decide."

"You have crossed a line with me and there is no going back. Now get the hell out of my office."

"Yes ma'am." Nathan smiled and left the room.

Mac again sat down at her desk.

The agent posted outside the Oval signaled Rod that Templeton had gone. Rod thanked him and entered through the outside door, finding Mackenzie still seated at her desk. Approaching her, he asked, "You okay?"

"Fine."

He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm proud of you, Madame President... but now it's time you were back in bed."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The following morning when Rod returned to their room after seeing Kate and the kids off, he was glad to find Mackenzie still asleep. He'd hoped the surgery, combined with the preceding weeks of sleep deprivation and last night's confrontation with Templeton, would at least temporarily reset his wife's natural clock, which seemed to believe it was a crime to remain in bed later than six a.m.

He sat down on the bench at the foot of their bed and thought about the conversations he needed to have with Mac the next couple of days. While he looked forward to the time alone with her, he dreaded having these discussions with her. He knew how she would initially respond, and while he could take it, he didn't relish the experience. But it had to be done. He would have preferred to wait but he knew that this would be his only opportunity. Come Monday, she would stubbornly demand that things go back to business as usual. His only opportunity to change that routine would be this weekend.

Eventually he was roused from his thoughts by his wife's stirring. He turned around just as she was sitting up. He could tell by the way that she'd winced that she had momentarily forgotten about the events of the past three days. He quickly went to her. "Here, let me help you." He propped up the pillows behind her and gently helped her get settled against them before sitting next to her.

"Thanks." Mac looked at the clock and was surprised by the lateness of the morning hour. "How did I sleep so long?" she asked almost rhetorically.

"Doctor's orders." Rod reached out and touched her face.

"Okay... but I've got to get up and see to the kids, the radio address, the national security briefing, and the airline situation, the bombing..."

Rod placed a finger to her lips. "Mac, stop. The only thing you are going to see to at the moment is breakfast... in bed. You heard Dr. Brock, the only way you're going to recover fully is to rest. Otherwise, you're just going to end up back in the hospital and you know what that means."

Mac, as expected, glared at him. But he really didn't care. "Okay, let's take things one at a time. One, the kids are not here. They and your mother are on their way to Connecticut for the weekend."

"What? When? I don't remember talking about that." She was getting agitated.

"You're right. We didn't talk about it. I made the decision. You need rest and the likelihood of that happening with everybody here was slim to none. They'll be back Monday afternoon."

"Rod, you can't just..."

"It's already done," he told her gently.

She sighed, knowing he was right about the rest. "But Amy?"

"Is fine." Rod's voice was full of assurance. "I had a long talk with her–with all of them... and they're fine. So's your mother. You're the one we're worried about. Mackenzie, you scared us. I mean... really scared us." He paused. "Do you know how close we came to losing you?"

Hearing the emotion in his voice and seeing the anguish in his face, her demeanor softened. "Rod, I'm fine... really."

"I know. But you've got to give your body a chance to heal, Mac. Otherwise..."

"You're right. But the radio address, the security briefing... There are things I have to do, things my Office requires."

"I understand. Which is why you'll be giving the radio address from the Treaty Room–in your wheelchair, dressed in very casual clothes. Afterwards, you'll get the intelligence briefing. But that's it. That's all the work you will do until Monday, other than working on your Memorial Day speech from bed, because I know I'm not going to be able to talk you out of going to Arlington. But I will put a stop to it if you don't do what you're told the next couple of days. And that means total rest with no work visitors or anything else, except Jim and only if absolutely necessary."

"Rod," she told him emphatically, her anger again rising, "you can't dictate to me how and when I do my job."

"This weekend I can–and I will." Their eyes locked. This was one time he had no intention of giving in. "You may be the leader of the free world, Mac, but you are also my wife and the mother of my children." He took one of her hands and reminded her, "I love you and I need you. And so do the kids... and I will not let you jeopardize your health and their future because of stubborn pride."

They continued to look at one another. Eventually, Mackenzie realized just what he was saying and why. "Okay, Mr. Calloway. I give in..."

"Good... because I'm not done yet."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're not?"

"No, ma'am. I would have preferred to have this discussion some other time. But you know what... there is no other time because we're never alone long enough to have it. Now fate has intervened... and we're going to talk."

Mac wasn't sure what was coming next but she didn't like the sound of it. And she hated being put in this position. "Great timing, Rod. Could you possibly pick a more pleasant time for this than when I'm in pain and just out of the hospital." Her voice brimmed with sarcasm.

"Mackenzie, knock it off."

She again gave him a very cold, hard look.

"If you can spend hours on the telephone talking to everyone in your Administration on the day after surgery, and if you can talk with Nathan Templeton in the Oval Office on the night you're released from the hospital, then you can certainly now spend a few minutes talking with your husband–the man who loves you, the man who has always done everything in his power to make you happy." He returned her hard look. "And as for timing... you tell me when would be a good time? Next week? Next year? Mac, we haven't really talked in months."

They stared at each other for a short minute. However, today, she backed down first. He was usually so placid, so agreeable. "Okay... what do you want to talk about?"

"Us... the kids... your schedule. We can't continue the way we have, Mac. We've got to make some changes, re-evaluate our priorities. You've got to..."

"I'm the President of the United States," Mac interrupted. "Please excuse me if I don't have time to sit around and hold your hand or cook your meals."

Rod had anticipated her reaction, but it didn't make it any easier on him. Trying to keep a firm grip on his emotions and his temper, he quietly told her, "That was below the belt, Mac. And really not fair." He stood up and turned away.

"Where are you going? I thought you wanted to talk, that it was so important." The anger and sarcasm in her voice was still readily apparent.

He reached for a folder on the dresser before answering. "I'm going to get your breakfast." He handed her the folder. "Here's the radio address. I'll be back in a few minutes. And unless you're going to the bathroom, I expect you to remain in bed." He didn't wait for a response but walked towards the door.

However, before he left the room he turned and faced her. "You know, Mac... I wasn't criticizing or attacking you. I love you and I'm very proud of you. But the truth is that our relationship needs some work, our family relationships need some attention. And you can't continue with the pace you've been going. You're strong, but not that strong... nobody is. You're killing yourself." With a shake of his head he finished, "I can't help you–help us, unless you're willing to meet me half way... or at least are willing to discuss the situation."

Mac wanted to throw the folder at his departing back but couldn't summon the energy. This felt like just one more thing on a plate where things were already falling off because it was so full. Why, she wondered, couldn't anything be simple anymore? She looked at the clock. She had forty-five minutes until she had to give the damn radio address. Well, she thought, it had to come first. But before she turned her attention to the speech, she mentally replayed his last words and belatedly realized what his intention had been. He was right. They did have things to discuss.

She was still reviewing the speech, silently repeating the words in her mind, when Rod returned with her breakfast. She didn't know what to say to him. She'd never been very good at making the first attempt at reconciliation.

"Here you go."

She moved the folder and he placed the tray on her lap. She hadn't had much to eat the past several days and was almost surprised to discover that the food looked good. "Thank you."

He nodded and again moved towards the door.

"Rod..."

He turned around and looked at her.

"I..."

"Now's not the time, President Allen. I'm sorry I brought it up when I did. You've got things to do. Eat your breakfast."

He had a smile on his face, but she could hear the distance in his voice. "Rod, I know..."

"Not now, Mac," he interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. Then seeing the concern in her face, he again joined her on the bed. "Honey, it's okay really. Bad timing on my part. Look at the time."

She looked at the clock and realized she had twenty-five minutes before air time.

"We've got to get you ready to give the radio address and for the briefing. We'll talk later, I promise. I'm going to quickly check that everything's set up for you in the Treaty Room and then I'll come help you dress. Okay?"

"Thank you."

He smiled and then kissed her cheek before again leaving the room.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

A little over an hour later, Rod entered the Treaty Room. Jim and the NIO had just finished briefing her. He took one look at his wife and saw that she was worn out. "Hey... everything quiet?"

Mac raised her head. "Yeah... fortunately. Truthfully, I'm not sure I could cope with a crisis today."

"Well, we'll just have to pray that it stays quiet." Rod moved behind her wheelchair. "Let's get you back in bed."

Rod got Mackenzie settled back in bed. She didn't voice a single objection. She must really be worn out, he thought. He sat down next to her and stroked her cheek. "You did great in there. But you're beat. What can I get you?"

"Cookies and a glass of milk?"

"Real cookies... or do you want me to call your Mother?"

Mac tried to laugh but it hurt too much. "Real cookies... but only if you'll join me."

Rod nodded, but he could see the pain she was still in. "How about a little pain reliever to go along with the cookies?" Then, reading her thoughts, he added, "Just Tylenol."

"Thank you."

"I'll be right back."

When he returned, he joined her on the bed, the tray of cookies and milk between them. They ate in silence for a few minutes. Finally, moving closer to her, he spoke. "Mac, I'm sorry I upset you this morning..."

"Yeah... you definitely threw an elbow," she said, intending to tease him. But seeing the hurt in his expression, she reached out and lightly touched his arm. "But I know it was an elbow thrown out of love." She was relieved to see the hurt replaced by a smile. "Rod, I'm the one who should be apologizing. You were only looking out for me and our children... and I was very ungracious, and unappreciative. And I've been that way a lot lately. You're right. We do need to talk. I'm ready to listen now. I mean... really listen, if you want to do it now."

He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "Thank you. But I think that right now, you could use a nap. You're looking pretty tired to me–beautiful, but tired."

Mac looked at him and realized that he'd had even less sleep than she the past several days. "You look pretty exhausted yourself, Mr. Calloway. Why don't you join me."

"An afternoon napping with my wife. Doesn't get much better than that." He removed the tray from the bed and placed it on the floor.

"Oh... I can think of more pleasurable things to do with an afternoon in bed, husband..."

"Next time," he assured her. "And Mackenzie, there is going to be a next time."

She smiled. "Go change and then get back into this bed."

When Rod returned from the closet in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, he found Mackenzie on his side of the bed.

"Mind if we switch sides for a couple of weeks? That way we can at least cuddle on my good side."

"Oh... I think I can live with that," he told her with a grin, as he crossed to her side of the bed. Gently he wrapped his arms around her, and they both fell asleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Rod awakened first with Mackenzie still in his arms. He looked at his watch: 6 p.m. Wow, he thought, they had been exhausted. He was also starved and hoped that Mac would be, too. He slipped out of bed as quiet as he could, and grabbed his robe. He thought about changing into some regular clothes, but then decided "why bother."

He left the room and went to check on dinner. Earlier he'd informed Usher Waverly about what he'd like served for dinner and the set up. With Brock's approval, he'd planned a very intimate dinner for two in the family dining room provided, of course, that Mac was up to it. Otherwise, dinner in bed would have to suffice.

When he returned, Mac was awake and standing in the bathroom. He stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, before talking to her through the mirror. "You should be in bed, you know."

She talked back at him using the same method. "You've had me in bed all day... and while I have enjoyed it, I'm also going crazy."

"Okay," he grinned, "how about joining me for dinner in the informal dining room?"

"Like a date, Mr. Calloway?" she asked suggestively.

"Exactly like that... Mrs. Calloway."

"Do I have to change?"

"Absolutely not. Tonight it's just us, in our robes and bare feet, Madame President."

"Sounds perfect." She turned towards him and put her arms around his neck. He bent his head until their foreheads touched. It'd been too long since they'd done this, she realized. It felt good. "Thank you for this... for today," she said after finally breaking contact with him. Looking into his loving eyes she continued, "You were right to send the kids to Connecticut with Mom. In fact, you're almost always right. I know I don't say that enough." She saw the momentary surprise in his eyes and recognized just how often lately she'd taken him for granted.

He kissed her softly. "We make a pretty formidable team, Mackenzie... when we work together."

"You're right again. Why don't we talk more about that at dinner."

"Deal." He helped her into her robe and led her by the hand into the dining room.

Mac wasn't terribly surprised to find the only light in the room coming from candles; and that the table was set very intimately for two. Rod had always been very thoughtful that way... and always a gentleman. She looked at him lovingly and touched his cheek as he helped her sit.

Within seconds it seemed the stewards had entered the room and very promptly, very quietly placed dinner before them. "Thank you," Rod told them as they left.

Mac looked at the plate in front of her and was instantly hungry. Chicken, rice and vegetables had never looked so good. Perhaps because for the first time in months, she thought, she truly felt happy and at peace.

Rod saw her look at her plate but couldn't see her expression. "Sorry it's nothing exotic," he apologized, "but Dr. Brock said bland food would be best for a couple of days... but I did get him to allow for some chocolate cake and ice cream for desert."

She smiled at her husband, realizing just how much thought he'd put into this weekend... and into her well-being. "Rod, it looks good. I mean, really good. Thank you."

"Eat your dinner."

They both began to eat voraciously, each of them feeling more rested and having a bigger appetite than usual. About halfway through the meal, each of them realized just how quickly they'd consumed their food. Looking up sheepishly, they were surprised to find that the other was in exactly the same predicament. And it dawned on them individually just how good it felt to truly be on the same page again–even over something as insignificant as dinner.

Mac spoke first. "Rod, I know you're right about us and the kids, about my schedule and my stubbornness. I just don't know what else to do. It's not like I'm intending to neglect us or our family... or even that I mean to work such long hours."

Rod pushed his plate out of the way and covered one of her hands with his one of his own. "I know." His voice was full of compassion and understanding. "But Mackenzie, the presidential oath of office was never meant to be the functional equivalent of a suicide pact. That's what it's become. Honey, I don't think you understand just how close you came to... The doctors told me that if we'd arrived at the hospital any later, we likely wouldn't now be having this conversation. Mac, I don't know if I could survive that... not to mention the kids... your mother." His voice was now so full of emotion that he had to sit back in order to regain some control.

After a moment he continued, "I'm angry at myself for going against my better judgment and letting you get on that plane. And frankly, I'm angry at you for stubbornly ignoring just how sick you really were. That can't happen again. Changes have to be made–for your personal health... and for the health of our marriage and your relationship with the kids."

"How, Rod? Because I really don't know what I can do different."

He didn't answer immediately, trying to gauge her intent. He was still a little gun shy from their last two conversations about her job–that morning and the day before her State of the Union address.

Mac sensed his hesitation. This time she took his hand, caressing his knuckles with her thumb. "Honey, I'm asking. I want to hear what you have to say. You wouldn't have brought this up without having thought long and hard about both the problem and the solution. Please... I need to hear it because things do have to change. We can't continue like we have."

He nodded. "Alright. But first... are you okay? Would you be more comfortable in bed or the family room?"

"I'm fine," she assured him. "But if it gets too much, I'll tell you."

"Okay." He took a deep breath. Though he felt a lot better about having this conversation with her, he recognized that it still wouldn't be easy. "Mackenzie, I've come to believe that the most difficult thing for any President is finding a workable balance between the presidential and the personal. But most of your predecessors and their families at least had a chance to prepare for this job. You–we–didn't have that luxury. We've had to do everything on the fly, learning only by experience. Moreover, unlike every other President you have the added burden of being a wife, a mother, and a political independent. But we've got to find that balance for you. Otherwise, I'm afraid for your health... and for us as a family."

She listened carefully to his words. "I never thought about it like that... but you're right, the balance is not there. What do you suggest?"

"Well, what do you want first, suggestions for the presidential or the personal? Although, they really are intertwined."

"Let's talk about the personal first."

"Okay. First, you need to totally relinquish to me control over the day to day affairs of the kids–their school work, their schedules, their friends, and their activities. Of course, we will continue to make all major decisions concerning the kids together and I will keep you informed–by written memo if necessary."

Mac smiled at the absurdity of his suggestion. Yet, she realized there was a measure of truth in his words.

"But I need your support. They can't play us against each other. So if they ask you for permission to do something, your response should be 'talk to your Dad.' Can you live with that?"

She nodded. "I think I have to... it's just the price of being President, I guess." Mac, in another flash of self-awareness realized how her response could have been interpreted. "Rod, thank you... thank you for being willing to make this sacrifice for me and the kids."

"It's no sacrifice, Mackenzie. I love you and I love our kids. I want all of you to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted."

"I know."

"But Mac, you need to set aside time every week to spend some one on one time with each of them. They need you, need to know that they are still a priority to you."

She nodded.

Now for the dicey part, he thought. "And the same goes for dinner. Make it a priority. We can be flexible as to the time... or even as to the location. But we need that time together as a family. Not once a month. But several times a week. You've got to eat anyway and thirty minutes is not going to kill your schedule. Make it as an important part of your day as you would meeting with senior staff or the Cabinet. Your children need to have some semblance of normal family life on a regular basis. Will you do that for me, for us?"

"Of course. I'll talk to Jim first thing in the morning."

Rod shook his head.

Mac corrected herself. "I mean... first thing Monday morning."

"That's better," he told her with a wink and a most cocky grin.

"What else?" This really wasn't as bad as she'd anticipated. It would just take a change of focus, greater discipline.

"Your schedule. Mackenzie, you cannot continue to work twenty hours a day, seven days a week. It's not physically possible. I want you back in the Residence by no later than 10 p.m. You need a full night's sleep. Catching only a cat nap at night has got to become the exception rather than the rule." He paused, wanting to give her a chance to react. Instead she motioned him to continue.

"I also want us at Camp David every other weekend–at least until the campaign kicks into high gear. If the kids want to have friends there for a night, fine. If you want to bring a little work, fine. But not all day, all weekend. You need time to unwind and recharge. And we need time together. I don't care how you do it. I'm not going to interfere with West Wing matters anymore. But talk to Jim. I think you'll find he's got some ideas." In truth, Rod and Jim had discussed her schedule and the changes they could make to it. "Honey, he's as worried about 'President Mac Allen' as I am about 'Mackenzie.'"

For the first time, Mac thought about the effect her illness must have had on her staff. Especially Jim, who had already suffered the loss of one President. She made a mental note to speak with him at the first available opportunity. Maybe even tomorrow, if her husband consented. "It won't be easy and I'm not sure how it will all work. But I know that I have to take better care of myself. I can't continue like I have."

She stopped speaking and then remembered something she hadn't mentioned to Rod. "I'm thinking about asking Jim to be my new VP. What do you think?"

"I think he'd make a great VP. And politically it would be a very smart move. But before you make a decision, think about where he can be of most help to you."

Mac nodded.

"That does remind me, however, of something else I've been meaning to discuss with you. Mac, I don't believe security clearances were ever meant to apply to the presidential spouse. You can't tell me that Eleanor Roosevelt, Nancy Reagan... Hillary Clinton, didn't know exactly what was happening in the world. But that's up to you. I'm not going to say anything else about it. I am available if you need me. I mean... I can read and summarize reports just as easily as you can. And it always helps to bounce ideas and concerns off someone–particularly someone whom you know only cares about your best interest and helping you make the best decision."

"Thank you," she said softly, telling him just how much she appreciated him with her eyes, her smile. "Well... I think we've covered everything except the most important thing: us. What about us?"

Rod pulled back his chair and stood beside her. Gently he bent down and kissed her lips. Then cupping her face with his hands, he told her, "Honey, if you–if we–make these changes and really follow through with them, then we'll be fine. Because we'll have time to talk... and time to touch."

"I love you."

"And I love you... But how are you? Ready to climb back in bed?"

"I'm fine... actually better than fine. How about a movie? ...And I thought I heard you mention something about chocolate cake and ice cream?"

Rod felt his heart turn over. His wife was back. "Chocolate cake and a movie, huh? Will the family room work?"

"Actually, I was thinking about the theater downstairs. I hear it's terrific... with very comfortable chairs. Do you think we'll offend anyone if we just go as is?"

"I don't really care, do you?"

"Not a bit."

Rod helped his wife stand and walked her into the West sitting area. "Let me call downstairs and get it set up," he told her as he helped her into a more comfortable chair.

"Don't forget the cake and ice cream."

"Yes, ma'am."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Much later, Rod and Mackenzie lay in bed, with Rod's arms again wrapped around her healthy side. The day had gone so much better than he ever could have hoped... mostly though, because she was alive and they were together.

"Don't you find it ironic that the one night I'm not too tired for sex, it's not an option."

"Honey, please don't talk like that," he told her teasingly, "or I'm gonna need a cold shower."

She playfully elbowed him in the ribs. "What did Dr. Brock say? How long do we have to wait?"

"I don't know. I didn't ask him."

"Rod..."

"Sorry Mac, but at the time I was mostly focused on the fact that you were still alive."

"Okay, but first thing tomorrow morning, we ask the question... Do you know what this reminds me of?"

"Those first six weeks post-partum?"

"Exactly. But as I recall, we had a difficult time making it to four weeks... Which also reminds me, I forgot to tell you about my Mother's initial reaction to my exhaustion and nausea Wednesday morning."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No," she laughed but mostly with her eyes. "She actually thought I might be pregnant. You should have heard her: 'Mac... you aren't by any chance,'" she told him, mimicking her Mother's tone.

Rod joined in her laughter before asking provocatively, "So... do you think we're still capable of such a thing?"

Mac turned her head to look more closely at him and gauge the seriousness of his question. "Rod, bite your tongue. That is so not an option... don't even joke about it."

"Okay," he said. "But if you don't start taking better care of yourself, I'm going to make it an option. Drastic times call for drastic measures, honey. And if you're pregnant... I know you'll take better care of yourself. Besides, another boy might really be fun."

"That's blackmail, Mr. Calloway."

"You better believe it, Madame President." He kissed her but then quickly left their bed.

"Where are you going?"

"To take that cold shower. All this baby talk has reminded me of all the fun we had making the three kids we do have."

Watching her husband's back as he hit the shower, Mackenzie really laughed. And for the first time in months, she felt truly content–as a wife, as a mother... and, regardless of Templeton's shenanigans, as the President of the United States. And the best news of all, she thought, was that they still had another whole day together.