Page 77 of State of the Union (First Family 3)

Nick stayed right by her side when they wheeled her into the freezing room for the X-rays.

“I’m sorry, Mr. President, but you have to wait outside,” one of the women said, her tone deferential.

“That’s fine.” He kissed Sam’s cheek and whispered in her ear, “Behave so we can get out of here.”

That earned him another glower from her.

By the time they had gotten films of her elbow and hip, Sam had tears streaming down her face from the agony of being turned and twisted into position.

“I’m sorry that was so painful, Mrs. Cappuano,” one of the techs said. “I hope you’re feeling much better very soon.”

“Thank you.” Sam felt clammy and sick to her stomach when she rejoined Nick and Dr. Anderson in the hallway. “Can’t wait to do that again soon.”

Anderson led them to a private exam room that wasn’t in the Emergency Department.

Sam would be forever thankful to him for helping to protect her privacy.

“Let’s take a look,” he said, easing her gown up so he could see her mangled hip.

“This is the moment all your dreams come true,” she said, mortified that she had to show the doctor her ass.

“You know it, hot stuff. Holy moly, you don’t do anything halfway, do you?” Then he looked at her equally colorful elbow. “Ouch. I’m not going to put you through an exam that requires moving it until I see the films. I’ll see if they’re in yet. Be right back.”

Nick stood by her side, holding her hand while they waited.

“Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course I came with you.”

“You say that like it’s no big deal for you to come.”

“It isn’t.”

Sam rolled her eyes at him. Anything to take her mind off the throbbing pain in her right side and her anxiety over what those X-rays would show.

Anderson returned ten minutes later. “There’s good news and bad news. What do you want first?”

“Good.”

“Your elbow is fine. Just a nasty bruise that’ll hurt for a few days. Your hip, on the other hand, is fractured and will require surgery.”

“Wait. What?”

“You heard me. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

“How long will I be down?”

“Four to six weeks.”

“No way. I don’t have that kind of time.”

“Sam, your hip is broken. You have to get it fixed if you ever want to walk again.”

“This is ridiculous! I can’t be down for four to six weeks! I have shit to do.”

“It’ll go by so fast, babe,” Nick said. “You’ll bounce right back and be on your feet again in no time. I’m sure of it.”

“How can a thirty-six-year-old person break their hip?” Sam sounded hysterical even to herself. She could only imagine what they thought of her reaction. “Isn’t that something that happens to old people?”