THE PRESIDENT 2 (38 page)

Dutch grinned and Gina waved as they moved slowly toward the limo, the baby beginning to cry at the terrible sounds of the new, ear shattering cheers.
 
And Dutch wanted to tell him to get used to it.
 
But he only looked down at him and smiled.
 
Don’t worry, he wanted to say.
 
These are the good guys.

LaLa offered to take the baby with her in the car that she, Christian and other staff were riding in, but Dutch refused the offer. This baby, his eyes made clear, would be raised by him and Gina, not by aides, nannies, or other assorted people.
 
LaLa smiled, because she knew exactly what he meant, and headed for her awaiting limo.

And when Dutch, Gina, and Robert got into their limo, and Robert took his tiny fingers and wrapped them around his father’s big finger, seemingly holding on for dear life, Dutch did cry.
 
He let the tears roll.
 
Gina looked at him, looked at the death grip the baby had on Dutch’s finger, and wanted to cry too.
 

Because nothing was more beautiful to a couple that was supposedly always surrounded by it, than a gesture that was so common, so expected and predictable, until it was, because of its simplicity, the most beautiful of all.

Dutch looked out at the glowing crowd, a crowd that seemed to love them.
 
And he loved them back, if only for that moment, because they were the everyday people, the heart and soul of America.
 
And even when he saw a smattering of distractors, with signs that read,
Those Women Told the Truth
, or compared the president to Hitler, he still was the happiest man alive.

Before the limo doors were closed, a reporter in the front of the rope line was able to shout out if the president was sorry that his mother didn’t live to see her only grandchild.
 
And Dutch, without hesitation, yelled out, “no,” unsure if the reporter heard him or not.

Gina looked at him.
 
“That was so not politically correct,” she said as the baby grabbed her finger too.

“I know,” Dutch said, looking up at Gina’s radiant face, and then down at the baby, a baby who already had them wrapped around his fingers.
 
And Dutch couldn’t stop grinning.
 
“Isn’t it great?” he asked.

And Gina grinned too, because it really was great.
 
Because they had decided, for the sake of the child, for the sake of the office Dutch had sworn to uphold, that they would not quit.
 
But they also decided that they would live on their own terms.
 
On this they stood firm.
 
And if Washington didn’t like it, if the American public didn’t like it, if Congress had problems with it, then they could always force them out.
 

But in the meantime they would move along at their own pace, as a threesome now, accustomed to the cheers and jeers of the crowd, the ups and downs of the polls, the shouts and yells of reporters, as the doors of the limousine shut out the noise, and they were ushered, kicking and screaming and laughing from ear to ear, back into the fishbowl.