Sam was officially sick of hospitals. In particular, she was sick of the George Washington University Hospital, where she’d spent far too much of her time lately. With Brooke now home and Gonzo getting stronger every day, Sam was ready to be done with the place. But that was not to be.

Her dad had just gone into surgery for the removal of the bullet that had left him a quadriplegic almost three years ago. At the time of his shooting, doctors had told them it was far too risky to attempt to remove the bullet. In the last few months, however, the bullet had begun to move. The doctors now said the bullet had to come out before it did even more damage. So here she was, back at the hospital where she felt like she lived lately, waiting on yet another surgery.

Because there was nothing to do but wait, Nick had gone to work at her insistence. Congress was back in session today and gearing up for a major budget battle that required all hands on deck. Vice President Gooding had resigned on Friday and speculation was running rampant as to who the president would tap to replace him, with much of it focused on Nick, who was waiting for Nelson to make it official.

Her husband was going to be vice president of the United States, pending congressional approval, which was supposedly all but guaranteed. While she’d been repeatedly reassured that her life wouldn’t change all that dramatically, she had her doubts about that. But she’d decided to roll with it the way he always did for her and take the lumps as they came. What else could she do? As long as she didn’t have to quit her job or change who she was, she could handle being the country’s second lady. Right?

“Better not to think about it,” she muttered to herself as she took the elevator to visit Gonzo while her dad was in surgery.

She knocked on the door to his room and tucked her head in. “You aren’t getting a sponge bath or anything, are you?”

“Already done,” he said, his voice weaker than usual but already stronger than it had been the day before. “And fully enjoyed.”

“Ewww.” Sam stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “I see you’re milking this for all it’s worth.”

“Hell, yes.” Other than the bandage on his neck and the unusual pallor occupying his skin, he looked good as he raised the bed ever so slightly so he could see her better. “How else am I supposed to get any time off from that sweatshop you run?”

“This is true.”

“Skip is in surgery?”

“As we speak.”

“And you’re freaking out.”

“What? Me freak?”

“He’s going to be okay, Sam. He’s almost as tough as his daughter.”