Madam President ✓

80. Horrible Accidents

Walter
3 months ago

"You think I should put the statement out before or after the Belarus trip?" I ask Analise. She pushes her reading glasses up.

  "Depends on how the political climate looks these next few days-" she shrugs. "If the Belarusian President shows enthusiasm- we can wait until after. If he doesn't acknowledge it until the last second we hit send email while on the plane but above all-"

  "Get Tanya's approval for either, I know." I spend a second taking in her facial expressions. When she's concentrated like this, her experience is clear. She was working in the White House years before I was- for the entirety of Darrel Lowe's term, yet I've somehow ended up as her boss. "Sometimes I feel like you should have my job."

  "I don't want your job." She goes back to typing. "I am perfectly happy working behind the scenes."

  "I know but-"

  "Walter. We both have things to do." She cocks her head to the door. "And you are... ten minutes late."

"I'm not-" My eyes widen as I glance at my phone's screen. "Shit."

  I'll definitely be hearing about that- since I'm never late. Unless there's something out of the ordinary happening- a natural disaster, a brand new virus somewhere in the world, a shooting somewhere in the country- we have press conferences on Wednesday and Saturday.

The decision not to hold them daily was widely criticized at first- but what would the point be? There just isn't a lot going on in the world right now. The Middle East is as peaceful as it's been in years. The last major natural disaster we could have helped with was last month in England, but both parliament and the royal family said they had it under control. There have been no new cases of any Ebola strain in eight months.

  This time period has simultaneously felt like the calm before and after the storm. I guess we'll figure out which at some point.

  As I speed walk through the hallways of the west wing, I pass a group of interns. I internally groan. They're either really helpful- or really fucking annoying. I avoid eye contact- yet the youngest one reaches out anyways.

  "Mr.Press Secretary- can I help with anything?"

  "How about the jobs I'm not paying you to do?" I continue walking. "That'd be fucking great."

  I dust off my jacket, crack my neck- and get ready to face the restless crowd of reporters in the briefing room. Our usual press core is predictable. After a while you begin to pick up on their questioning patterns and are able to answer in a way that satisfies or stumps them. Every now and then- the news stations'll replace their people. Whether that's because of retirement or health(sometimes both)- it's never a surprise. I'll still have time to do my research on the reporter in between learning of the switch and the first conference they attend, and today is no exception. ABC's chief White House correspondent quit, citing how tired chemotherapy made him- and that he'd already had his dream job for twenty years. In his exact words: "Right now, I need to focus on my mental and physical health. Working would not be congruent with that."

  We wished him well, received the paperwork for his replacement, background checked her, and handed her credentials to allow her access to the west wing.

I walk through the open doorway to the famous podium and the room falls silent. I take note of the most recognizable faces: Meg Haines is in the front row of chairs, second from the door. The newbie- Angel Davis, is on the fourth, directly in the middle.

"Hello everybody- I apologize for my tardiness. With the president's upcoming trip to Belarus I have no new updates so I'll take questions."

Every available hand shoots up- while their non dominant ones are flipping through their own folders.