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Cole Wright’s bad knee is aching this morning. It tends to happen when he sits too long in the cold—and on this late-January day, the temperature in DC is in the thirties.
But he doesn’t mind. It’ll be better when he stands up. He rises with everybody else on the platform when the Marine captain steps up to sing the national anthem. Vice President Faulkner stands close by, straight-backed, hand over his heart, singing along with every word.
As the applause dies down, Cole holds the Bible flat in front of him. He looks proudly at Maddy as she places her hand on top of it.
“Madam President,” says the chief justice. “Are you ready to take the oath of office?”
“I am,” says Maddy.
Cole smiles. That’s an understatement. With her landslide reelection and the last votes finally lined up for the Grand Bargain, she’s never been more ready. Neither has he.
The chief justice looks Maddy in the eye. “Please raise your right hand and repeat after me. I, Madeline Parson Wright…”
“I, Madeline Parson Wright…”
Cole gazes out over those gathered to witness the inauguration, the crowd filling the grounds in front of the US Capitol Building, far past the Reflecting Pool. He’s having one of those out-of-body experiences he used to have during big games, when the energy flowed and he experienced nothing but the field ahead of him. A feeling of total, absolute freedom.
The next thing that registers is Maddy saying, “So help me, God,” and the crowd erupting in cheers.
An aide takes the Bible from his hand. The First Gentleman wraps his arms around his wife. The Marine band strikes up. They play four ruffles and flourishes, then burst forth with “Hail to the Chief.”
“I love you, Maddy,” he whispers. “You did it. You made it happen.”
“I love you too, Cole,” Maddy whispers back, holding him tight. “And they ain’t seen nothin’ yet!”