A/N: Hi! Sorry I've been MIA; I've been preoccupied with working on my second book. Thank you so much for all the reviews (and patience.) I hope you guys enjoy the next chapter.
Chapter Seven
"Good morning, Emily," Claire says when she sees her daughter walk out of her bedroom. Emily yawns and rubs her cerulean eyes. She then hops into her chair across from her mother at the table. Claire is busy nursing a cup of tea.
"Where's Daddy?" Emily asks. Her eyes do a sweep of the residence. Usually, by the time she gets up for school, Frank and Claire are having breakfast at the table. Or, her father got up earlier than both of them and is already in the Oval.
"He's sleeping in his bed still, I think." Emily nods in understanding and gets to her feet. She walks into the kitchen and grabs the precut apple slices on the bottom shelf of the fridge.
About a month ago, Claire asked Frank to sleep in his study instead of her bed. Due to her pregnancy, Claire was having difficulty sleeping and wanted the whole bed to herself. Initially, it caused some tension between her and Frank, but he came around when he saw how exhausted she was.
"Fran…" The rest of her husband's name gets swallowed up by a yawn. Frank shifts in his desk chair to glance at his wife. Claire is sitting on the couch, half-looking at a piece of paper and half-trying not to fall asleep. He's notices the dark circles under her eyes become more prominent over the past few weeks. And now, she's always up before him, even when she's getting up a couple of times during the night to go to the bathroom.
"Claire, are you getting any sleep?" Frank asks. He walks over and sits next to her on the couch. Claire folds her hands over her swollen stomach after tossing the paper aimlessly on the coffee table across from her.
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I think you should sleep in the study from now on." Claire pauses to take in her husband's reaction. A frown tugs at his lips. They just spent the last week shifting his clothes and other personal items into her bedroom to make room for the nursery furniture arriving. He doesn't understand why she's kicking him out now. "Just until after the baby is born."
"Why?" Claire notices he's removed his hand from her stomach and moved slightly away from her on the couch. She reaches across to rest her hand on his thigh in a reassuring gesture.
"Between needing to pee almost every two hours, and you hogging all the covers, I can't sleep." Frank lets out a light scoff at his wife's mentioning of him taking the covers.
"You take all of the pillows," Frank shoots back at her. Claire leans her head on his shoulder.
"This isn't like before. I'm not angry. I just…need to sleep."
When they first got to the White House, Claire left their bedroom for another one down the hall, claiming she had a cold. Even when she felt better, she never came back to their bedroom. It became the inciting incident behind their separation. Now, Frank is scared she is pulling away again.
"I'll move into the study tonight. If Emily asks—"
"If Emily asks, just tell her the truth. I need the bed to myself."
"Alright." Claire leans over and stamps a kiss to his cheek as a silent thank you for accepting her request.
"Emily, it's your dad's birthday today. Make sure you tell him 'happy birthday,'" Claire reminds her daughter.
"How old is he?" Emily asks.
"Old enough," Frank says as he's walking into the kitchen. He pours himself a cup of coffee and walks over to the table. Emily watches her dad stand behind her mom, resting his hand on her shoulder.
"Happy birthday, Francis," Claire mutters to him. She pats his hand on her shoulder as he leans down to kiss her cheek.
"Happy birthday, Daddy!" Emily exclaims. Frank sits between Emily and Claire and sips his coffee.
"Thanks, Em."
"I have to go," Claire abruptly says. She motions for Frank to help her get to her feet. "I'll see you after my meeting."
Frank glances at Emily, hoping the five-year-old will tell him what Claire is up to. She shrugs her shoulders and bites into an apple slice.
"I'll share with you, Daddy…since today is your birthday." Emily pushes the dish towards her father. Frank chuckles and scoops up the last two pieces.
While Frank is reading his briefing sheet, an agent swings open the door of the Oval. Frank looks up from his reading glasses, wondering who is walking into his office. Instead, he sees a large board being rolled in, with his wife pushing it.
"Claire, you are going to hurt yourself," Frank admonishes. He gets to his feet and gently nudges Claire away from the board. "What is this?"
"Turn it around," Claire instructs. She sits on the couch with her fingers crossed over the swell of her stomach. It took her a while, but she was finally able to track down her husband's birthday gift.
Frank pushes the board over to the far side of the office, behind both of the couches. He spins the board around, gasping when he sees it's his old voting board.
"Where did you find this?" Frank asks. When he left the Whip's office, he wasn't able to bring the voting board with him. He didn't have much use for it as vice president.
"Storage. Bill does his votes electronically." Claire is referring to the man who currently holds Frank's old position. "The magnets need to be updated some, but it's still useable." The magnets have all of the names of current and former members of Congress. On the board, is a "yes" and "no" column, which refer to how people are going to vote on a piece of legislation.
Frank skims his finger over Peter Russo's magnet before picking it up and throwing it in the garbage.
"Do you like it?" Claire asks. Her husband hasn't said much. Frank whips around and smiles at her.
"It's a nice gift. Thank you."
"I figured we could use it for the maternity bill. There's going to be a final vote in the next few weeks." Frank spins around and nods. Then, he starts moving magnets towards the "yes" column of people who have already committed to voting for the bill to pass.
Claire slowly stands up and walks behind her husband, pressing her body against his. Her hand sneaks under his arm, placing it on his chest. They stare at the board, seeing how many people are left that they still have to sway to their side.
"What is that feeling?" Frank asks. He senses a quick, almost tapping sound stemming from his wife's stomach.
"You can feel that?" Claire asks. She steps away from him and skims her hand over her abdomen. Frank moves slightly to allow his wife to stand next to him. "I think he has the hiccups. I've been feeling it on and off all morning."
Frank lightly presses his hand on Claire's stomach, grinning at the movement. His hand glides up to her cheek, pressing a kiss to her lips.
"Thank you for the gift." Claire gives him a clipped nod. She didn't just get it for him. They are going to need to keep track of people they've promised favors to from now until the official vote.
"Of course. What can we work with?" She tilts her head towards the board, seeing thirteen names still in the "no" column.
"Some of these are going to be incredibly hard to get, but him," Frank picks up a magnet. He shows Claire the name of a prominent senator from Pennsylvania. "We can work with."
"How?" She doesn't see what he does yet.
"His wife's restaurant is opening near Capitol Hill. What if we were to have dinner there to help out?"
"I thought you had a dinner meeting tonight." Frank shakes his head.
"Not for my birthday. For Emily's."
Their daughter's birthday is in three days. Frank and Claire want to do something special since this is her last birthday as their only child.
"She has been asking to do something outside of the White House," Claire states. "And if a reporter were to ask us about our meal…that would generate good press. Do you think that will guarantee a vote, though?"
"A favor is a favor. I'll talk to Paul and see if his wife is accepting reservations for Thursday night." Claire smirks and briefly rests her hand on her husband's shoulder.
"Oh, since we are on the topic of Emily's birthday, you are taking her and Ian to the new presidential exhibit at the National History Museum on Saturday." Claire fully expected the frown forming on her husband's lips.
"What? Why didn't you tell me?"
"You know why." Frank crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn't appreciate being ambushed by his wife anymore than he appreciates having to chaperone his daughter and her "friend" at a museum.
"Are you coming?" Claire shakes her head.
"I can't be on my feet for that long. It will be a couple of hours, and it will make your daughter happy."
"Maybe if I'm lucky, you will go into labor and we won't have to go to the museum." Claire shakes her head at Frank's offhanded remark. She still has a little more than a month before her due date.
"Don't say that."
A knock on the door interrupts their conversation. One of Frank's many aides is letting him know another meeting is starting in a few minutes. Claire brushes past him to take one last look at the voting board before leaving his office.
Three days later, Emily wakes up and runs into the kitchen. She already is dressed in her school uniform and wants Claire to do her hair for her birthday.
"Happy birthday, honey," Claire says when she sees her daughter. Emily is practically jumping up and down in excitement. For as much as Frank and Claire try to downplay birthdays, they want their daughter to enjoy hers.
"Thanks Mommy! Can you braid my hair?" Emily points to her tangled, brunette hair.
"Of course, come stand on the chair. I can't bend down." Emily scampers over to the kitchen chair, waiting for her mom to come over.
"Are you excited for your dinner tonight?" Claire asks while she's sectioning off pieces of her daughter's hair. Just like Frank thought, the senator agreed to pass Claire's bill if they eat at his wife's new restaurant. Frank arranged for a friendly reporter to "ambush" them outside the restaurant to ask for a review.
"Uh huh. Can I get ice cream?" Claire laughs at Emily's question. Her daughter as been able to enjoy a lot more of the sweet since Claire craves it all the time.
"I think we both can have ice cream after dinner."
Frank comes out of the study just as Claire is finishing French braiding Emily's hair.
"Daddy, look!" Emily points to her new hairdo with a giant grin on her face. Frank gives Emily a bittersweet smile. Claire helps Emily hop down from the chair, not noticing the expression on her husband's face.
"You look beautiful. Happy birthday, darlin'." Frank walks over and brushes a kiss to the top of Emily's head.
"Are you coming to dinner with us tonight, Daddy?" Emily asks.
"Of course. And I'm taking you and Ian to the museum this weekend." Claire's eyes widen at her husband. She wanted the trip to be a surprise but forgot to tell Frank.
"Really?" Emily looks like she's about to burst into tears from excitement. Frank glances up at Claire, who mouths an apology to him.
"Yes, we arranged a private tour of the presidential exhibit you have been talking about." Emily claps her hands and gobbles up her pancake breakfast.
"Get to school, Emily. We will see you later tonight." Claire says. Emily runs over to her mom and gently reaches up to kiss her cheek. Frank walks Emily over to the stairs and gives her a hug goodbye.
"Over here, Em." Frank reaches to grab Emily's hand and redirects her to the restaurant. Claire is walking behind them, trying to keep up with Emily's pace. Frank reaches behind to grab his wife's hand. Emily opens the door of the quiet restaurant with Frank's help. It's an upscale restaurant that specializes in make-your-own pizza. Frank and Claire rented out the back room of the place, so they won't be bothered by anyone.
"Right this way," a lanky, younger hipster-looking guy says and directs them to their private area. Agents move with the three of them and stand guard at all available entrances and exits.
"Sit here, Daddy," Emily instructs her father. She points to the booth that's up against the wall. Claire sits in a chair across from them for easier access to the bathroom. Frank slides in and Emily sits next to him.
"This is nice," Claire comments. It has a rustic, old Italian restaurant-style vibe to it with a modern twist. They don't leave the White House much unless it's for travel. Usually, it requires a lot of notice and special safety precautions to leave. More often that not, it's more trouble than it's worth.
Frank nods in agreement and shares his menu with Emily. He can tell how excited the now six-year-old is at being out of the White House for a few hours. She hasn't stopped looking around and pointing out the things she sees.
"What do you think that is?" Emily points to a large fireplace surrounded by glass walls near the entrance. It's the focal point of the restaurant.
"It's where they cook the pizza," Claire explains. She shifts in her seat and reaches for her water.
"What is it?" Frank asks. Claire places her hand on her back.
"Nothing." She doesn't want to ruin Emily's celebration by complaining about how uncomfortable she is.
They are interrupted by a waitress taking their orders. While Emily is ordering, Claire motions for Frank to grab the present they brought with them.
"This is for you, Em," Frank says once the waitress leaves their table. Emily gleefully tears open the wrapping paper and bites her lip with excitement.
"It's me!" Emily exclaims. The doll Frank and Claire bought her is made to be a replica of their daughter. Every attribute—the cerulean eyes, shoulder-length dark hair—is customized to match Emily. Frank even asked the doll manufacturer to make a replica of Emily's Air Force One jacket. "She's so cool."
Frank bites back a laugh at how enthralled Emily is by the doll. He and Claire were at a loss as to what to get her since she doesn't find pleasure in most of the toys suited for her age.
"Mommy, can you put her over there?" Emily points to the empty chair next to Claire.
"Sure," Claire reaches for the doll and feels her stomach tighten. She winces and retracts her hand, placing it on her abdomen. The doll crashes onto the table and right into the mozzarella sauce.
"No!" Emily yells at the sight of her doll's face covered in red sauce. Frank's attention is diverted to Claire. He walks over and kneels down next to her, placing his hand over hers.
"What is wrong?" Frank directly asks. Emily sees the pain on Claire's face and tenses up. Her mom looks concerned—like she did when they were on the plane.
The waitress comes by and silently sets the pizzas on the table. Claire lets out a deep breath and leans back in her chair.
"Braxton Hicks. I had them with Emily. It's nothing." Frank gets to his feet and glances over his shoulder at Emily. The little girl is frozen with fear.
"It's fine, Em. She's fine." Frank tells their daughter. Claire looks more relaxed and is using her thumb to rub her stomach.
"I didn't mean to scare you, honey," Claire mutters. She picks up the doll and silently prays for nothing to be stained or cracked.
"What's going on, Mommy?" Emily questions with the same blunt attitude as Claire would. Frank accepts the doll back from Claire and wipes the sauce smeared on its face with a napkin.
"I'm having minor pains called Braxton Hicks. I'm okay, though." Claire would rather not focus on herself on Emily's birthday. She's been experiencing false labor pains intermittently since the plane incident almost three months ago. "How's the doll?"
"It can be saved," Frank holds up the clean doll to distract Emily. Emily perks up and tears into her pizza. Claire sighs in relief.
"How is it?" Claire asks Emily. Emily gives her a nod of approval. Claire takes a bite of her salad after noticing how intensely Frank is staring at her.
"I have to go potty," Emily announces a little while later. Frank gestures for an agent to go stand guard with Emily while she goes to the bathroom. He waits until their daughter is out of earshot to address his wife.
"Is it bad?" Frank asks. He doesn't want her to downplay her pain in case it's something more serious.
"No. It's just unpleasant. When you said you weren't going to give me a couple of kids, I should have listened." Claire remarks. She had a relatively easy pregnancy with Emily, but that was slightly over six years ago. Now that she's older, Claire isn't sure her body is going to let her carry the baby to term.
"Can we get the birthday sundae, please? Make it two. And please, no singing." Claire tells the waitress. Frank laughs into his napkin at his wife. Emily comes back to the table just as the waitress is walking away.
"We ordered you the birthday sundae, Em. Your mom got one as well." The waitress quickly returns with two sundaes, one with a candle and the other without.
"Make a wish," Claire says to Emily. Emily pauses to think and then blows out the candle. Frank takes a few bites from Emily and Claire's sundaes. He requests the check and pays the bill.
"Are we going out the front or the back?" Claire asks Frank. She isn't sure where the reporter is positioned on the street.
"They are waiting at the front." Emily jumps off the booth and grabs her doll, holding it up to her side. Claire steps forward, pausing at the hostess booth to pay compliments to the chef.
"Are you ready?" Frank asks. He can see people standing outside with their phones, waiting for them to come out.
"Sure. Emily, stay by us," Claire instructs their daughter. Emily nods and steps closer to Frank. He receives the go-ahead from his wife and pushes the door open. Immediately, they are bombarded with camera flashes and people shouting at them.
Frank grabs Claire's hand when he spots an older man wielding a cellphone getting too close for comfort. His eyes scan the crowd for the reporter. A blonde girl looking fresh out of college makes her way to the front of the crowd.
"Mr. President, Mrs. Vice President, how did you like your meal?" The girl asks, shoving a microphone in Frank's face. Claire squeezes Frank's hand.
"It was wonderful. They made sure our daughter felt special on her birthday," Frank says into the microphone.
"We would definitely recommend coming here for a nice dinner," Claire chimes in. She steps in front of Emily when the reporter starts to kneel down. Emily still doesn't like people invading her space, and Claire won't force her to speak if she doesn't want to.
"Excuse us," Frank signals for the agents to start clearing a path so they can get to the motorcade. He steps forward, tugging on Claire's hand. Claire makes sure she has a secure grip on Emily as they are walking to the car. Emily asks to be picked up, but Claire isn't able to support her weight.
"Get in," Claire says to Emily. The six-year-old hops in first, followed by Claire and then Frank. "That should be enough, don't you think?"
"Absolutely. People will be lining up to eat there in a week or so. That vote is as good as ours." Frank grabs Claire's hand, interlocking their fingers. They look at Emily, who is quietly playing with her doll.
"Good."
"How's your stomach?" Frank asks. He hasn't noticed any pain registering on his wife's face since they were at the table, although that doesn't mean it's not there. Claire is an expert at hiding it.
"Fine. No problems. Francis, you don't have to worry." She appreciates her husband asking, but he knows how much she hates being fussed over. If there's a problem that requires his input, then she would speak up.
"Did you have a good birthday, Em?" Frank asks.
"Yup! I like my doll." Emily turns her doll around so her parents can see.
During the middle of the night, Claire steps out of the bathroom, wide awake. She walks into the living room of the quiet residence. She spots a light on in Frank's study and knocks on the door.
"Come in," Frank mutters. Claire steps inside, surprised to see her husband reading papers under lamplight. "Hey, what's going on?"
"I can't sleep. What are you working on?" Frank hands her the paper and moves over to give her room to sit.
"Just wrapping up some things that I didn't get done before we left for dinner. I heard from the senator. His wife thanked us for the news coverage."
"Good. Even with him, we are still twelve votes short," Claire points out. Frank takes off his reading glasses and sighs.
"I know. When is the vote?"
"A week from tomorrow I think. Congress is moving it up to ensure it happens before they break for Thanksgiving."
"I don't think that will give us enough time, Claire." Claire nods in agreement.
"I know. I have a few meetings throughout tomorrow and early next week. We might need to call in more favors."
"Consider it done." Frank watches his wife carefully push herself off the chair and get to her feet. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Francis."
"Hi, Mr. President," Ian whispers when an agent brings him up to the residence. Emily is waiting with Frank and Claire in the living room. "Hi, Em."
Frank furrows his eyebrows at the nickname he gives to his daughter. Emily shyly waves at Ian and hugs her mom goodbye.
"Hello, Ian." Frank offers the little boy his best fake smile. Claire frowns at her husband. She hopes her daughter doesn't come back from the museum upset with her father.
"Are you ready to go, Daddy?" Emily asks. She has her favorite black pea coat on and asked Claire to pull her hair back from her face. The six-year-old walks over to Ian and shows him her doll that's sitting on the living room couch.
"Be nice," Claire whispers to Frank when he goes over to kiss her goodbye.
"Call me if something comes up."
Claire's had an uptick in Braxton Hicks contractions in the days after Emily's birthday. He doubts she's going to make it to her December due date.
"Okay. Have fun," Claire waves goodbye at Emily from her spot on the couch. With her husband and daughter gone, Claire is going to take a long, hot bath before starting her work for the day.
When Emily was born, Frank adjusted his stance on children to liking only his own. He still despises other people's children, especially a curly-haired blonde boy who is trying to hold hands with his daughter.
"Look at that, Em," Ian says to Emily. He points to a replica of George Washington's wooden teeth in a jar. Frank frowns and reminds himself to have a little talk with Ian about a certain nickname he uses. He's attempting to usher Emily and Ian through this exhibit as fast as he can. Unfortunately, the presidents are in chronological order and they are only at the first one.
"Daddy, can you read that to us?" Emily asks Frank. Frank clears his throat just as his phone rings.
"Hold on, Em. Let me see who this is," Frank pulls out his phone and prays it's Claire asking him to come home or Doug with updates on the bill. "It's Doug, I have to take this. Don't go anywhere without me."
Emily nods and turns her attention back to the exhibit while her father steps away to take a phone call.
"Sir, we have two more votes locked in," Doug says when Frank picks up the phone.
"Good. How many votes do we still need?"
"Ten."
"Damn it." Frank cranes his neck to make sure Emily and Ian are within seeing distance. He won't worry his wife with a lost child situation. Thankfully, he can hear Emily laughing at something Ian told her by Thomas Jefferson.
"Claire is meeting with Jacobs' and Callahan on Monday. Any thoughts as to how to get the others?" Frank is going to have to pull all the rabbits out of his hat in order to assure the bill's passing. If he didn't promise Claire success, he would have killed the legislation by now. What his wife is asking is too much too soon. Reforms like this take years and usually several baby steps instead of one giant one. No matter how many times he's tried to explain that to Claire, she still wants the bill to go to a vote, and she expects it to pass.
"See what you can do in Hawthorne's home district. I think he needs help getting an economic incentive package through committee. We might be able to grab a few favors there."
Frank turns around and no longer sees his daughter or Ian. His stomach tightens as his eyes dart around the empty museum.
"Alright, sir. I'll see where that goes."
"Thanks Doug." Frank hangs up the phone and walks down a long hallway, past a large majority of mid-century presidents. Emily and Ian are seated on a bench, watching a movie.
"Hey Daddy, come see this," Emily mutters. She waves Frank over to the very end of the exhibit where he and Claire are. "Look, it's you and Mommy!"
Frank sees the inauguration outfits he and Claire donated to the exhibit. Claire's egg-shell dress and his tuxedo are enclosed in a glass casing next to Garrett and Trisha Walker's outfits.
"That's so cool," Ian comments.
"You and me are gonna be in here someday," Emily says to Ian. Frank glares at the little boy, who withers under the intensity of his gaze. Ian keeps his mouth shut and stares straight ahead at Claire's dress. "Daddy, we are hungry."
"Alright, let's go."
Frank has Secret Service stop for a light snack on the way to Ian's house. They drop off the little boy and continue to the White House.
"Hey, did you have fun?" Claire asks Emily. Frank is a step behind their daughter, looking slightly worn down.
"Yes! We saw Daddy and you in the museum," Emily informs her mother. Claire moves some papers off the couch so Emily can sit down. "Mommy, can I go watch a movie?"
"Sure. Don't forget to clean your up your toys." Emily nods and gets off the couch. She goes over to Frank and hugs his leg before scampering off to her bedroom.
"You look tired," Claire comments. Frank takes Emily's spot on the couch and leans back.
"You don't." His wife looks more refreshed than she has in the past month.
"I took a long bath. Did Doug call while you were gone?"
"Yes. We are still ten votes shy."
"Alright. I'll have to push up my meeting on Tuesday to Monday afternoon. Are you still meeting with the senator from Mississippi?"
"Yes, Doug and I are working on something for his home district. I can't guarantee it will be enough to change his mind." Claire lets out an irritated sigh. It's coming down to the wire on this, and she hates uncertainties.
Frank looks over at Claire, seeing the stress lines on her face. He gently grabs her shoulders, turning her away from him.
"Relax for a minute, sweetheart." His fingers dig into the knots in her neck. Claire leans into his touch. "If I tell you I'm going to do everything to make sure this bill succeeds, I will."
"I know."
If this bill fails, then all of the work—including Claire's pregnancy—they've put in will be for nothing. And Claire is determined to not let that happen. Annette's endorsement wasn't as effective as they thought it would be, and politicians aren't being as forthcoming when it comes to votes in their favor.
Frank presses a kiss to the curve of her neck and sits back against the cushions. Claire swivels in order to sit next to him. She puts her feet up on the coffee table and rests her hand on her stomach, feeling tiny movements.
"We can't become the Conways', Francis," Claire abruptly states. Confusion floods every crevice of Frank's face.
"What do you mean?"
"We are having this baby for a reason. It wasn't to make our family complete or increase our followers on social media." Frank and Claire cringed every time they would watch the American public fawn over the Conway family. They saw right through the façade.
"Do you think we're becoming soft?" Frank asks his wife with such disgust, Claire smirks.
"Not soft…hesitant."
"That's the same thing."
"I've been a little preoccupied with getting through this pregnancy, that I've lost sight of the task at hand."
Between doctor's appointments, setting up the nursery with Emily and making sure she's taking care of herself; Claire has inadvertently made Frank the point-person on her bill. She wants to take back control but isn't sure how to do it.
Frank rests his hand on her thigh. When they first started this endeavor, it was supposed to be Claire's victory—or defeat. He thinks it would be beneficial to let her give him marching orders instead of the other way around.
"What do you want to do?"
"I have to remind them who the vice president is."
A little more than a week later, Frank is returning to the Oval after a lunch meeting. He shuts the door to his office, not realizing his wife fast asleep on the couch. Claire stirs, lazily opening her eyes. Frank rounds the corner to face the couches after hearing a strange noise. His wife is laying with her legs up on the couch, one hand tucked behind her and the other on her stomach.
"Hey, I didn't know you were in here," Frank mutters. He sits on the coffee table, reaching his hand out to help Claire sit up. She holds onto his hand and pushes herself to a prone position. Frank grimaces at how uncomfortable his wife looks.
"I was hiding from my assistant. I come in here sometimes and take a nap while you're out."
"You do not." Claire smiles at her husband's skeptical face.
"Your couches are more comfortable than mine." Claire bites her lip and moves her hand to the side of her stomach. "This baby is so much more active than Emily was."
"May I?" Frank asks. Claire grabs his hand and places it on the lower right side of her stomach.
"Emily was active in spurts, but this one moves around all the time." Frank and Claire sit in silence for a moment until the movement stops. Frank withdraws his hand and stands up.
"Claire, we are going to have to push back the vote until after Thanksgiving." Claire pushes herself forward and then slowly gets to her feet.
"Why? I might not make it until then." At Claire's last doctor's appointment a few days ago, her doctor warned her that the baby is going to come a lot sooner than originally planned.
"We don't have enough votes to make it to the floor. Rescheduling buys us time." Their last tally yesterday told them that they are still six votes short of passing the bill. Frank tried his best to sway last minute hold-outs this morning to no luck.
"No, I want the vote to happen tomorrow." Frank furrows his eyebrows at his wife's insistence. It doesn't make sense for her to push for a vote if they know they don't have enough.
"Why are you…" Frank's voice trails off when the realization smacks him in the face. "You cut a deal, didn't you?"
Claire glances away from him and then back, nodding her head. Frank slams the folder he had his in his hand down on the desk.
"Francis don't get—"
"Jesus, Claire." Claire steps closer to his desk. She holds her hands out in defense because of how mad her husband is getting already.
"All we need to do is endorse Jacobs' drilling bill and he will deliver the last six votes." Frank shakes his head at what he's hearing. His wife clearly isn't thinking clearly, or she would've grasped how foolish her move was.
"Our administration ran on an anti-drilling platform. You know that! You were the CEO of a goddamn environmental company for years. How do you think this is going to play out in the press?" Claire glares at her husband. She would think he would trust her enough to handle the optics of the situation.
"There is no election, Francis. Nobody will care about some drilling in Texas when a landmark maternity bill will change history for women in this country."
"It's a chickenshit move, Claire. You should have run this by me first." Frank isn't sure what he's more upset about: his wife making a half-assed deal or the fact she didn't loop him in.
"I don't have to ask for your blessing on every decision I make. This is my bill." Frank's teeth clamp down on his lower lip. It takes every ounce of respect for his wife to not point out that this is his administration.
"And I have been busting my ass for the past few months to make sure your bill will succeed while you sat barefoot and pregnant in our residence picking out fucking wallpaper." Claire takes a deep breath in an effort to force the tears back into her eyes. She won't let her hormones get the best of her, even if what her husband said is way below the belt.
"I am willing to go hat-in-hand to someone and make a tiny sacrifice for the larger picture. I did what you didn't have the courage to do. I played this exactly how you would. The only difference is, I didn't come begging you for permission, and that's the part that bothers you the most."
"What about you always reminding me that we are a team and we make decisions together? Or does that only apply when I make decisions for us as the president?"
Claire silently admits that what she did was hypocritical, but Frank throwing his title in her face only proves her point. He can't accept that sometimes she knows what's best.
"You wouldn't be the president if it wasn't for me." I never should've made you president. Frank remembers their argument on the plane coming home from Russia when Claire said that to him. He thought about it for weeks on end, even after they made up.
"Get out." Claire lifts her eyebrows at the restraint evident in Frank's voice. Usually when they argue, he yells and breaks things. She wonders if he's trying to hold back because of her pregnancy.
"Fine." Claire swivels on her feet and strides out of the Oval. When she steps outside of the office, she leans against the wall and takes a few deep breaths. "It's okay, just relax." She rubs her stomach in an effort to soothe herself and the baby.
When Frank gets back to the residence, Claire is nowhere to be found. He doesn't particularly want to see his wife after their fight this afternoon, but it's unusual she's not here. Claire stops working when Emily gets home from school and takes a nap before dinner. Frank quietly opens the door to her bedroom, but the bed is freshly made.
Something is not right. Frank thinks to himself. He dials Claire's cellphone, only to get her voicemail.
"Damn," Frank whispers. He doesn't leave a message. His wife might be dodging his calls, which doesn't surprise him. His daughter comes up the stairs to the residence with an agent. "Emily?"
"Hi Daddy." Emily breezes past him and goes into the kitchen for her snack. "Where's Mommy?"
"I think she still might be working," Frank lies. Emily comes back into the living room holding her crackers. "Let me call her office."
Emily sits next to her dad on the couch while he waits for someone to pick up in Claire's office. Surprisingly, her executive assistant, Lea, picks up.
"Hi…what is that sound?" Frank asks Lea. He can hear someone breathing heavily in the background.
"Mr. President, your wife is bleeding. We called an ambulance, but you may want to come down here."
A/N 2: I leave you with this! I don't want to give too much away, but next chapter isn't as smooth sailing as you might think. Reviews are definitely appreciated. Thanks for reading and please stay safe and healthy!