As Michelle and Barack walked hand in hand towards Marine One, the former President of the United States turned to his wife.
“You know how it took me eight years to clean up W’s mess?”
Michelle sighed. “How can I forget. You coming home all tired, boring Sasha and Malia over dinner.”
Barack chuckled. “Yeah, I remember that interview. You putting me on blast, that was cold.”
“I’m sorry, dear,” Michelle laughed. “I was the First Lady, I had to be honest. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know you didn’t,” said the President just as they felt a gust of wind. He exchanged salutes with the Marine and nodded to him with a smile—knowing that it would be the last time he would do so as POTUS. As usual, he let his wife walk ahead of him as they went up the stairs. They both found their way to their seats and sat. They felt the vibration of the chopper’s engines soon after.
Michelle turned to her husband. “You were about to ask me something, weren’t you?”
Barack smiled. His wife knew him all too well. “Yes, as I was saying. It took me under eight years to correct W’s mistakes while Congress kept on throwing up barriers. In your opinion, how long will it be before the American people beg you to clean up Trump’s mess?”
Michelle rolled her eyes then looked at her husband. “You really want me to age twenty years in eight, like you did, don’t you?”
“How’s anyone going to know. Just keep putting the same dye in your hair that you’ve been using for the—”
“—say one more word.”
Barack smiled and threw his back his head into the head cushion, stifling a laugh while his wife frowned.
“Besides,” Michelle ran a hand through her hair. “It’s highlighter, not dye.”
“Sure, Michelle. Putting your, uh, alternative fact aside,” the President held Michelle’s hand. “You know if you run for President in 2020, I got your back, just as you did these last several years.”
Michelle smiled and put her hand to her husband’s cheek while gently squeezing his hand with the other. “I know you will.”
As both of their heads gravitated towards each other, followed by a long, sensuous kiss, Marine One lifted off and flew into the sunset.
Russell Brooks is the author of four suspense thrillers. Click HERE for details.