Ella sat on the fourth row of the church with her children in tow, although she was the First Lady of the United States of America she didn’t walk around acting like it, at least if no one gave her a reason too. She took notes of the service and listened to the Pastor intently. Her children were of that age where they knew where they were but unaware of the true purpose. As long as they bowed their head during prayer and didn’t talk throughout the service, she was happy.
Her twin girls Reagan and Kennedy were now six years old and were replicas of Ella, with their big afro puffs divided into two ponytails and private school uniforms. Her son, Antwon Jr. who they called AJ around the White House was four and they already predicted that AJ would be walking in his parent’s shoes, at the tender age of four he loved to read and talk, much like his father.
“Let us pray” the Pastor said once bible study had ended.
Ella quickly stood to her feet and instructed her children to do the same, she smoothed the plaid Burberry dress she wore to work that day, making sure it was knee-length. Although, Antwon was now in his second and last term as President, people were still milking any information they could. Reporters and such couldn’t believe that the First Family lived a squeaky-clean life and hadn’t been involved in any rumors since the video circulated of Ella at the strip club, those days and that issue was now behind her.
As far as Antwon’s sister was concerned, Ella didn’t have two words for her at all. Nor did she knock her husband keeping his touch with his only sister; she just didn’t go with him. She had forgiven tons of things and people in her life but for Keyshia to purposely go against her and wish on her downfall….never would she ever talk to her again.
After prayer, Ella gathered all of her kids coloring books and other things they pulled out of AJ’s book bag so they could head home and have dinner with daddy before bed.
“First Lady” she turned around to see the Pastor standing behind her.
“Hello Reverend” she said cheerfully. Ella had faithfully attended the church since they moved to D.C. almost seven years ago and the only time she missed a service is if they were out of town on business.
“How are you?” he asked, genuinely concerned about the well-beings of the Young’s and it wasn’t because of the generous donations they gave quarterly.
“I’m well, no complaints sir” she told him truthfully.
Ella took her medications bi-weekly instead of daily, not liking how the side effects made her feel. It had been awhile since she had an outburst or felt herself spiraling out of control and she could only pray that it stayed that way.
“I won’t hold you long, I see the children looking restless” he joked.
Ella didn’t laugh back, she too was tired.
“Send my love to the President we haven’t seen him in a while” he commented.
Ella bit down on the inside of her lip, yes, the Reverend was telling the truth. Antwon hadn’t been to church in quite some time, blaming it on the stress and demand on running the free world.
However, they prayed together once a day and to Ella that was enough for her.
“I most definitely will sir,” she told him, nodding her head.
The secret service escorted Ella and her children out of the church, down the stairs and into the Escalade truck.
Once they made it home, she told the children to get ready for a bath while she figured out what was for dinner tonight.
Ella called Antwon’s cell phone and didn’t get an answer.
She then called his desk phone and didn’t get him on the phone there either.
“Mama can we have pizza tonight please?” Kennedy begged.
“I thought you were supposed to be in the tub maam?” Ella questioned.
Kennedy smiled, looking just like her mother.
“Mama I’m going but can we have pizza” she asked again, determined to get a slice of pepperoni pizza tonight.
Ella tilted her head and tapped her chin as if she was thinking about it, “Hmmm I’ll see, let me go check on daddy. If he says pizza is fine then we can have pizza,” she told her kid.
Kennedy pumped her fist in the air then took off running back to the bedroom she shared with her sister and Ella heard her tell Reagan the good news.
She removed her pumps and slid her feet into a pair of Tory Burch flats, the ones she normally wore when she was walking around the White House.
“I’ll be back and when I return everyone should be in pajamas,” she shouted to her kids.
"Okay mama” Reagan on behalf of her siblings or The Tribe as everyone in the White House called them.
Ella told the secret service agent on duty the same thing, she was coming right back.
She went on a search for her husband, checking his office, the library, the West room and a few others and still hadn’t located him.
Ella stopped and wondered where in the hell could her husband be.
With one more location in mind, she headed towards that way.
Not surprised at all to see the President, her husband Mr. Antwon Maurice Young playing a game of basketball by himself.
“I got next” Ella playfully told him, once she made it down to the court.
Antwon bounced off his feet and tossed the ball into the basket. The white button down t-shirt that was pressed and starched this morning when Ella last saw him was now folded up to his elbows and un-tucked from the navy pants he wore.
Her husband appeared to be tired, frustrated and quite disgruntled.
“Bad day?” she questioned, once she was near him.
He nodded his head and dribbled the ball around his wife.
“Wanna talk about it?” Ella asked him kindly, wishing that for once he would let her in.
Things were still flowing between the two, the sex was still amazing as ever and life brought her joy. But her marriage? The marriage that they prayed for had been deeply affected by the White House. Every other day Antwon was in a sour mood. He was quiet and shut off, reserved and often bitter.
She had wanted to ask him for a while, “Why in the fuck did you run for a second term, if the first term damn near destroyed you?”
Antwon was chasing ambition as if it was a high he had to have in order to live.
She wished that he would feel that way about her like, he used too, but it seemed as if she could kiss those days goodbye.
“Talk to me” she begged, on the brink of tears.
He had yet to acknowledge her presence.
Antwon stepped back and shot the ball towards the goal once more before deciding that he was done for tonight.
“Don’t wait up” he told her and walked off, leaving his crying wife on the basketball court alone.