Hello again! This year has been one heck of a ride and I haven't been on FF all summer. It was a real shocker to come to my Dox and see that all of my chapters were gone! I can't believe 90 days have passed!

That said, I kept writing whenever I could. Part Two of this story will be different from Parts One and Three. For one, welcome to Christine's first person past tense narrative. I know there are those out there who really hate first person and while I don't blame you, I hope you don't give up on this story because of it. I had a lot of time to cover in Part Two, but couldn't afford the time it took to write it. The fact is, this is a transitionary time and our characters are slow to move. Good news is, Part Two is only 6 chapters long and I'll be updating weekly on the weekends as all chapters have already been written. Here's a taster and expect the next chapter in a few days :)

PART TWO

Chapter Twenty-Three

My name is Christine Gallagher and I am to be the next first lady of the United States. I write to you from the main living quarters of Camp David. Erik and I were sent here as a security measure, even though, I've been told, the worst is over and perpetrators has been caught. I can't stop thinking about it…It's all so very awful…

It's nearing two in the morning. I'm not tired and I don't know why. It's been nearly two days since I've had any sleep. Erik is tied up in countless meetings and briefings for his new position. The last thing he did before leaving me was offering me this blank book. "You must have so many thoughts you're unwilling to share," he said. He's right. I do.

You must be wondering how I got to this place. What all has happened. When everything started…I believe I'll start with early January when I first made the decision to enter in engagement with Erik Underwood.

Perhaps I should start this out more formally.

Dear Diary,

The first weeks of my engagement with Erik, I recall thinking that if it weren't for my new found schedule, things would get really boring and lonely. That said, I liked it. I liked waking up a little later, jogging to Ebenezers, spending some relaxing time inside the pages of a book, then catching the D6 bus back to my basement apartment. I ate lunch, read the paper, took a nap or watched an episode of something on Netflix, practice my breathing exercises, study an Opera or another language, eat a light salad for dinner, then went to lessons. I was surprised at how much I really liked the new life. Even the running in the mornings. It was nice to feel the cold winter air on my face while listening to the sounds of the city as it wakes up. It was like I was a part of it, but a very small outside-looking-in kind of part.

Other than my "work" schedule having changed, I originally thought my life is overall the same. I lived in the same place, Meg is still my best friend, Simba stays with Roach so I still get my time alone. I still paid my rent and utilities…however, how that money magically ended up in my account was scary to see. Not to mention the extra ten thousand dollars that appeared. I never know what to do with the money. Does that sound weird? Doesn't everyone dream about what it's like to win the lottery and what they would do with the money? I know Meg does. My dad did. I just can't think about going out and splurging on something I don't need. So, the money sits there, not doing a thing but making my eyes bulge whenever I check my account.

My Van Gogh is still up in the Portrait Gallery. I went by and saw a little plaque next to it saying it had been kindly presented by its owner, me. I still can't believe that. I think it's better that it stays there. I'm pretty sure that painting is worth more than the entire house I live in, let alone my basement apartment. I think it's better that it stays in a place where it belongs. My new dresses are hanging up in my closet. I put them behind some other clothes so they won't pop out as much for how nice they are. The diamonds are hidden away in a pocket I sewed into my pillow…I thought that was smart. I don't know. I hope it was anyway.

Then there's the orchestra. Well, they're doing what they do. Some have emailed me. The conductor even called to say how good is was to see me. I've never been good with Facebook, but some have friend requested me and it was nice to see what they've been up to. A woman who plays the harp messaged and asked me out to coffee. I can't remember the last time I was so popular with anyone! Meg even asked me if she should be jealous!

You know…now that I've actually written all of this out, I guess things had already changed. But they were going to change anyway, right? With Raoul passing…well, I would have to change a lot anyway. Poor Raoul. Maybe I did love him, you know? Yes, I know I did. Even if it wasn't love-love. Jogging has helped me think a lot. Raoul will always hold a special time with him and I can't get that from anyone else and I guess he is now lost in my memories somewhere with my father. Raoul wanted to do good things, he just couldn't find a good example to look to. He told me early on how much he liked seeing Dad and me. He said he liked to see how a family was supposed to work. I never thought my family "worked" but it's nice to think that I was lucky to have what I had.

I guess you could say with this diary, I start a really new chapter. At the same time, I find that scary to think about. I used to love new things when I was traveling with Dad. Back then, I didn't have to worry about anything so new things were so exciting. Now that I've been taught that new things can be bad, I haven't wanted to try them so much. That said, since Erik had been officially announced as the next Vice President, I guess you could say that this new life change has been locked in for me. I mean, how much worse could it get, right? He's like, a bazillionare, he needs me to "look pretty" next to him for the next four years, and he's told me that besides music lessons, I won't have that much else to do. He said that the neck of the head didn't have to be dolled up, so I'm merely around if the worse should happen to the president. He's cynical like that. It's terrifying to think of what all has happened…

I guess with the announcement of the engagement, my quiet life was over. It's strange, before working in politics, I never kept up with who was who, especially when it came to who they were married to. Sure, I knew who was the First Lady was, but other than that, who cares right? Well, it's not that way in Washington. To be up to date on political life is a right of passage to stop looking like a fool. I remember being at a bar inside Union Station for the State Of The Union two years ago with Meg. I was new to the city then and I knew I was in a very different place when the bar became quiet and everyone watched and had something to say when the president started to speak. People from various walks of life gathered together that night and everyone had something to talk about. I never remembered it being such a deal elsewhere before that night.

That's…just an example. Anyway, so, future (at the time) President Richard Walker announced to the press that Erik Underwood would be swearing in as the next Vice President of the United States. Naturally, there was an uproar from every side. Did anyone expect any less? I have to say, I really felt for Phillip Tusk for a little bit. He was attacked for not being "man enough" to continue and how he should have been able to keep going for his country. How awful, huh? I mean, I know of people who take time off of work to better themselves. How is it any different for him? People can be so heartless when they don't think about the person on a TV screen being a human being just like them.

I noted that a few cameras had turned to me during the conference. Erik had formally announced our engagement through the party the night it happened. Naturally, everyone knew if they wanted to. The internet had been updated so it wasn't easy to hide…not like I've been trying to. I mean, god, I wish I could accurately put a description on the ring I'm wearing. I'm surprised I haven't had to hire a security guard for it it alone. I've taken to turning it around on my finger so that the diamond stays on the inside of my hand when I'm out and about. Of course, it couldn't just be one diamond. It had to be multiple diamonds, of different colors! There's a circle of yellow, blue, and green stones around one big fat chunk of metal-slicing rock in the center. Good grief could Erik have been any more bold?! And it's heavy. I feel like that should be noted. And people won't shut up about it whenever I have my hand out. I was so glad it was glove season when I first had it

Anyway, I remember that the day after the announcement, I took my daily run out to Ebenezer's thinking that other than showing up on national news along side a man I had pledged myself to after personally knowing him less than a month, that things will sort of go back to normal.

Wrong.

Oh so wrong.

Word had spread of my favorite coffee shop and when I went in to get my favorite pumpkin pie latte, I was hounded as soon as I got in the door. So many questions about how we met, who I was, what I thought, was I ready, were thrown my way. And of course, photos of my sweating disgusting self were now being taken. All I wanted was my latte. That's all I wanted, but lucky for me, it's like my plea could be heard by the manager on duty as he carefully made his way over to me with a large to-go cup in his hand. He yelled over the hubbub, "It's on the house, Christine!"

On my jog out the door, I was able to lose most of them. Oddly enough, when I looked up again, I was in front of the Capitol Building. Erik would be inside the House Building then. How stupid I would look if he caught me there. Running to him like I need him for…a lot of things….dammit. Looking down at the cup, it had receipt paper taped to it. On it was written, "Come to the back door tomorrow and we'll let you sit downstairs whenever you like. We'll keep an eye out, next time!"

At least I have some friends at my favorite coffee shop. I'll wear a scarf over my face from here on out. At least till it gets too hot.

After some weeks of hardly saying anything to me besides, "Stand up straight" and "That was the wrong note" Erik stopped the lesson in the middle of a song, looked up at me and asked, "Don't you care when the wedding is going to take place? Aren't you going to do anything to plan it? You have plenty of time for such things now."

To say I was shocked, was an understatement. I was…ready to fall over. It was as if he and Meg were on the same thought all the time. To be honest, it was annoying. She would ask me a question that I didn't want to answer, or something that I just didn't know, then she would ask again the next day, then the following day Erik would start asking. It was like they were teaming up against me for answers. Why should I have a reporter and a politician after me all the time? …maybe it's time to start spending more time with the orchestra. Then again, Erik "owns them" so I don't know how much longer that will last. He likes to ask who I go out to coffee with especially if it's a guy.

When Stev asked me out to dinner, clearly as a friendly thing, Erik insisted that he go and buy everything. He didn't say much during the dinner and Stev seemed a little awkward by it all. No feelings were hurt, I don't think. For the conversation that Stev and I did have, well, that was really good. I didn't think there would be other people for me to talk to my dad about other than Raoul, but I guess I was wrong. Surprisingly enough to me, it hurts less to talk about him the more that I do with other people. Everyone smiles when the say his name and the reaction has been contagious.

Erik said on the ride home from dinner that he likes to see me smile. I think I blushed a little, at least, my neck got really warm. I don't know. What are you supposed to say when someone says something like that? What's worse, was I could swear I heard him say, "I would like to make you smile that way," but when I looked back at him, his eyes were facing out the window. I…don't know what he meant by that.

Anyway, so Erik (and Meg) were dying to know what I wanted in a wedding. But, god, I didn't know. I still don't know! I guess other people have what they want in a wedding planned out by now…my childhood was filled with music and travel, meeting new people from all walks of life. I guess I never…no, no, that's a lie. When I was nine I had a Barbie, a Ken, and they had a chocolate lab with puppies. Naturally, I couldn't have them living together without a wedding so when I got Ken for my birthday, they got married that night. I guess that was pretty arranged. I didn't think of why two people got married except for the idea that they saw each other loved each other and that was it. My, how things have changed.

I told Erik that I didn't know what I wanted.

"I thought all women knew what they wanted! Why must you be so frustrating, Ms. Gallagher?"

I've started to notice that he calls me by my last name when I'm acting in a way he doesn't understand. I'm not sure if he's caught onto me knowing that yet.

"It's not like I've had so much time to think about it, Erik." I managed to spit back as I took a seat on the coach where Roach and Simba were. I guessed the lesson was over early. The cats never showed themselves until the music stopped. I don't think they like my voice that much. I guess that makes three of us out there. Roach once started meowing long and annoying when I was working arpeggios. Erik threw a book at him…Of course it didn't come anywhere close to actually hitting him, but he didn't meow anymore after that.

I remember Erik and I got into some kind of disagreement from there. He told me that planning the wedding was my job. I told him that the wedding itself was his idea so my inspiration was lacking. He reminded me he hadn't forced me to comply, that I chose and made the agreement in front of Meg and Doug. Back and forth back and forth.

He eventually responded with a new anger that I nearly found funny, "What's your favorite color, dammit?"

"Red, white, and fucking blue!" I yelled, throwing my hands into the air. The cats watched, entertained, "We're doing this for America, aren't we?"

"I'm hiring a wedding planner," he said dryly, "There is no hope for you."

"Make sure they're good! I won't be planning any of it."

"Undoubtably. Shut the door on your way out."

He never had to tell me twice.

I should mention that I'm now the owner of a 2017 Chevy Spark. Erik said that if it were up to him alone, I would have a foreign car, but since he now has the country watching his moves, it would look better if he had an American model. When I went to meet him, he was at the door, as usual, but this time he was holding a set of keys.

"That's yours," he said casually forcing the keys into my hands before I could say otherwise. Believe me, I tried to counter act this decision, I really did. I told him that if I wanted a car I could go get one with the mysterious bank of money showing up in my account, but he told me that he wasn't going to wait around for me to start spending money on necessities. Next, I said that I hadn't driven anything in years and pointed out that traffic in DC is some of the worst in the country. Eventually, after plenty of issues laid out, I kept the keys and walked inside. This was only after he admitted that most of the reason behind the car was so that I could get home safely at night. That was…really, it was a really nice thought. I never liked having to carry around mace and while I don't plan on using it that much, it won't hurt to have when the nights get late.

The car did come in handy on my way home at night. It's so tiny that I can virtually park anywhere. Maybe that was the point of all of this. It's an in-town card for a city where nothing makes sense. They may have well put a sticker on it saying "Washington Approved." I digress. I just, wow, to have a car again. There's a kind of freedom in that. I can go outside of the metro area anytime I want now. I forgot what that was like. I don't even know if I've ever had it before.

We ended up not having a music lesson the night I got the car. Instead, he and I sat in our humble floor seats by the fire and listened to selections by Eric Whitacar. It was peaceful enough. The next day was the inauguration, so naturally, things were a bit nerve wrecking. I was surprised that Erik wanted to meet at all, really. I figured he would want some time to himself before everything changed. Instead, he was very adamant in having me come over. Part of me thought that he would use the lessons as a distraction, then bark at how awful I was when I fell short, but he didn't do that.

He was quiet. Most of the time he stared out before him, his eyes focused on things I couldn't see. The music ended in time and I knew that it must have been close to midnight, but I wasn't tired and didn't feel the need to leave either. It was comfortable there even as I could feel his mind churning from three feet beyond me. With the corner of my eye, I could see the unmasked side of his face sit cold and serious. Part of me pitied him, though I would never admit to this. He has a handsome face. It's a shame for the other side, but still, people can look past that. Sure it is deformed…really deformed. I feel guilty for even admitting to it. We never talked about it after I accidentally saw it. I don't even know what he thinks about me for that. I'm afraid to bring it up to be honest.

Still, as I know there is so much more to him than just his face, I can't help but wonder, why me? Was it just because I was around? Did he have no other women in mind that he's had actual relations with? I'm not so amazing at showing appreciation for things that I don't exactly need and he's been giving me so much. Why would he give such things to me when I don't even know what to do with them or how to even say "thank you?"

There we sat, hardly three feet from one another. His cold eyes were so far away from where we actually were. It almost looked as if he were in pain. As I've said, I'm not very good at showing gratitude or knowing what to say in these kinds of things, but maybe with what I did, I said enough. I can't tell you what propelled me to do it. Maybe it was just something any normal human would do. See, he had left his hand out to be close to the fire. It just seemed like the right thing to do to put my hand on top for a few moments.

He looked at me and I thought he was angry, but his eyes quickly fell to my hand over his, then returned to my gaze after a few moments. This time, his eyes were softer, kinder even. I think I smiled when I saw him do the same with his stare. There was this time of calm understanding and it was comfortable to sit like that for the minutes that quickly passed. He eventually took his hand out from under mine, somewhat patted the top of my hand, and stood to look down to me, his mask glowing in the firelight.

Offering the same hand I had once held, I accepted his assistance in standing. We once again were holding the simple physical contact, this time, both of his hands were incasing mine. I don't know whether it was being closer to the fire or something else, but I could have sworn the temperature was higher. It's true about what they say about what happens when you hold eye contact with someone long enough. There's something you feel there… I can't really describe it, I'm no good at saying things like that…but I'd be lying to myself if I said that it didn't feel nice to be there with him.

Let me know if you're still out there! Hope you're still interested!