She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach and was concerned that she might be sick. She walked to the restroom, pausing momentarily at the sink. With her head down, she placed both hands on the counter on either side of the basin. She kept her eyes closed, hoping to gain some internal control of the emotions that were running inside of her. She ran cold water and splashed her face trying to remove the flush that she was sure was there. When she finished, she grabbed the hand towel and dried her face.
It had been several minutes since she first felt the sinking feeling and now, although the feeling had not faded, it had changed into something more internally substantial. She still couldn’t explain what was happening to her.
She opened her eyes, hoping there was something that she could see in the outer world to which she could latch, allowing a reprieve of the uncertainty that was running around inside of her. She felt not herself and yet herself all at once.
Her eyes revealed something she wasn’t expecting.
Gazing in the mirror, she anticipated seeing the face of Woodrow Wilson looking back at her. Instead, she saw her own face. She was stunned. She shouldn’t have been surprised at seeing the face that for her entire life had reflected back at her but now it seemed alien.
She heard a knock on the door to the Oval Office.
She didn’t answer and the first knock was followed by another. She knew she had to answer and so stepped out of the bathroom towards the door. She started to call out but she didn’t react fast enough. The door came open and five men entered swiftly with guns drawn. She would have been alarmed if she had not recognized the man leading the team – the agent from the hallway.
“Are you alright, ma’am?” the agent asked after they had swept the room.
Libby nodded. “Y-yes…” she stuttered. She regained her composure and started again. “I’m fine. I’m sorry I didn’t answer. I was distracted with something I was thinking over and didn’t hear you.” She turned and faced the agent. “What is it?”
“We’ve come to take you to the airport.”
Libby wasn’t sure what the agent was talking about. She didn’t know the hour but the moon shone through the window behind her. Woodrow Wilson may have done so but she generally did not have night engagements and she didn’t remember setting any. She started to speak and then it dawned on her that the agent had called her ma’am.
“Who do you think I am?” she asked the agent seriously.
He started to smile but then noticed the sober expression on her face. “Are you sure you’re alright, ma’am.”
“I’m fine,” she answered impatiently. “Now, please answer my question.”
“You are the President of the United States, of course.”
“And how many states are there?”
The agent almost smiled again. “Are you testing my history, ma’am?”
Libby realized she seemed hysterical. She gave a small smile to disarm the agent. “Perhaps I am.”
The agent saw her smile and he did relax somewhat but something inside told him that there was more to her questioning than she was letting on. The smile was forced. “There are forty eight states. Arizona and New Mexico were added five years ago and five years before that, Oklahoma and the Indian Territory.”
Libby nodded. “Okay, last question. Where is my husband?”
The agent looked at her strangely. “Is this another test?”
“No, no test. Why?”
“You’re not married, President Williams.”
“What do you mean I’m not married? I’ve been married for over twenty years. My husband is Charles and everyone calls him Chuck. We have two sons.”
The agent looked at her with sincere concern. “Are you sure you’re alright, ma’am?”
“Why do you keep asking me that?” Libby exploded.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, it’s just that I’ve never met this Charles. And you don’t have any children.”
Libby started to open her mouth but found no words would come out. The agent looked at the other members of his team and nodded. The other agents understood the gesture and left the room, leaving the two of them alone in the Oval Office.
“Libby, look,” the agent said, addressing her by her first name now that they were not in public, “we’ve been together for a long time. Way back to your Governor days.”
Libby was confused and didn’t pick up on the fact that he called her by her first name. “I’ve never been a Governor. You mean since my days with my company.”
The agent waited a moment before answering. “I’ve seen you stressed many times but I’ve never seen you lose it like this, especially in front of the other agents.”
Libby looked intently at the agent. She noticed he didn’t respond to her comment about her company. She chose to ignore that and move on – she would get more answers later. “Listen, agent…”
“Libby, you can call me Joe. You don’t have to be so formal.”
The name rang a bell. Somewhere in her mind, she could hear Edith Wilson referring to an agent named Joe. “Joe, I’m not sure what’s happening to me. I don’t know if I’m dreaming or what but I’m not supposed to be President in 1917.”
“I know. What you’ve been able to accomplish is amazing. You were the first woman to be elected to any state or national public office. All this without women being allowed to vote for you.”
“What do you mean the first? Jeanette Rankin was the first to be elected as a Representative from her state.”
“Yes, you paved the way for her election last year.”
Libby thought on his words for a moment, then looked up at Joe. “Do you know who Woodrow Wilson is?”
He thought on her question
