Painting the Sky
AN: I recommend reading "First Time" and "Something In the Blue" before this piece.
"Are you okay?"
Sitting together in the backseat of the armored limousine, her husband's words were whispered so quietly that she knew that the question hadn't been heard by the two Secret Service agents in the front of the car. His breath on the side of her face sent a shiver down her back. When Henry gently took her hand, she turned her head away from the window and faced him.
"I'm okay," Elizabeth said as she squeezed his hand.
Truthfully, after spending the day in New York City commemorating the 22nd anniversary of the September 11th attacks, she was exhausted. Even with the short flight back to D.C., she'd already decided that she would sleep the entire time that they were in the air.
"It's okay not to be," he reminded.
In the morning, she and Henry had attended the 9/11 Memorial and Museum's annual ceremony. She'd nearly broken down at 9:37 a.m. during the moment of silence to recognize when the Pentagon was struck by American Airlines Flight 77. Luckily, tears were kept at bay. Once the ceremony had ended, they'd headed over to St. Peter's Church for a remembrance service honoring the Port Authority employees who'd died during the attacks. Lastly, she'd visited Midtown Firehouse where she shook hands and exchanged hugs with the family members of the fifteen fallen firefighters. Now, they were en route to LaGuardia.
"I know," Elizabeth mumbled before she turned back to the window.
As the motorcade soared down West 48th Street, she stared out at the passing buildings. When they turned right onto Fifth Avenue, Elizabeth lost her breath. Grabbing onto Henry's arm with her left hand, she pointed up at the sky with the index finger of her other.
"Mark, stop the car," she insisted.
"Ma'am?"
With the divider down, their eyes met through the rearview mirror.
"We'll only be a minute."
Shaking his head, Mark told her, "Madam President, I can't authorize an unplanned stop."
Elizabeth wanted to roll her eyes because she knew that almost all if not every block in the city from the firehouse in Midtown to the airport in Queens had been secured prior to their departure. Before visiting a city, the Secret Service communicated their planned routes with local teams of law enforcement. Right now, this block was more protected than their old townhouse in Georgetown.
"Well, I'm getting out of this car with or without you," she said.
Five minutes later, she and Henry stepped out onto the sidewalk, joining the New Yorkers who had stopped to stare up at the sky. This time, twenty-two years later, the city was looking up for a beautiful reason. One that immediately brought tears to her eyes.
"It's the most vibrant rainbow I've ever seen," Elizabeth whispered.
Hand in hand, she and Henry walked to the corner for a better view.
"It's a double," he pointed out.
Ignoring the looks people were starting to give them, Elizabeth wiped at her eyes as she stared up. Both arches were visible over the city. While her husband took his phone from his pocket and began snapping photos, she soaked in the moment.
During her time at the State Department, Russell Jackson had encouraged her to share her 9/11 experience. For years, she'd refused. She hadn't been interested in falling apart on national television. Last year, while commemorating the attacks at the Pentagon, she'd told Emily Clark's story. Her husband, Aaron, and her girls stood by her side.
"Do you think they're really up there?" Elizabeth grabbed for his hand again. "The passengers? The first responders? The people who jumped from the towers?" Meeting his eyes, she kept her voice quiet. "And Emily?"
Dropping her hand, Henry touched her shoulder, turning her so they were face to face.
"What I believe in my bones is that they're telling us they're up there."
More tears began to stream down her cheeks.
"By painting the sky?"
He nodded.