We are home before 8 on Monday. There is a yellow sticky note on the door.

[Package delivered on 11/27/06. Please see Super]

"I'll start something for dinner. Can you go get it?" I ask Josh, handing him the sticky note.

"You're going to make dinner?" Josh asks, eyebrows raised.

"Are you questioning my cooking skills?" I retort.

"Noooo. . . " he says cautiously. " I've just never seen you cook." He wisely leaves the apartment to go get the package, while I wander into the kitchen and open the refrigerator.

I suppose he has a valid point. We've been married less than two weeks. The first week we were on our honeymoon. Then we were only home two days before we went to Florida to spend Thanksgiving with his Mom. During the time we've been together, we've mostly eaten in the office, or on the road, or had carry-out. When I took care of him while he was recovering after Rosslyn, he didn't eat much. I mostly heated up soup from his favorite deli.

We haven't talked about this domestic stuff. I know he doesn't cook much for himself. He can make coffee but other than that he's lived on carry-out. I close the refrigerator door. There really isn't much in there, an open box of baking soda, a six pack, a can of coffee, and condiments.

I can cook the basics. Nothing fancy but I do know how to use a crock-pot. I didn't have enough money to eat carry-out everyday. I would usually have coffee and toast or a bagel for breakfast. I'd bring a yogurt for lunch. Occasionally, I'd get a salad. Most days we worked late enough that Josh would buy me dinner. On the days that he didn't, I'd end up making some scrambled eggs or something quick and easy. I usually keep a pretty good stack of frozen microwaveable meals in the freezer for that purpose.

I open the freezer. There is an old frozen pizza, half a carton of frost-bitten ice-cream and a couple containers of concentrated juice. Definitely nothing for dinner here. Fine. On-to the cupboards, a couple cans of soup, a box of elbow macaroni, several boxes of old crackers, some pudding, a box with one protein bar and a cake mix. When the hell was he going to make a cake?!

Alrighty, then. I concede. I pick up the phone, dial the number for Chinese and order the usual. I plop down on the couch and look around. I've been in Josh's apartment hundreds of times, but now it's mine too. The two days we were here last week, things were too fresh and hectic to really stop and think about it, but now I'm feeling a touch overwhelmed.

What am I supposed to do?! Two weeks ago, I was worried that sleeping over might be too big of a step and now we're married and this is our house? I literally have two suitcases worth of clothes here: the things I had on the campaign and vacation stuff. I guess I need to make arrangements with Janice, or as Josh likes to call her, the twitchy chick from Treasury, to pick up more of my stuff this weekend. How much of it should I bring? Where will I put it?

Josh walks back into the apartment holding a box and a stack of mail. He tilts his head and studies me for a minute.

"Everything okay?" He asks as he sets the mail down on the coffee table.

I think he's always been pretty good at picking up on nonverbal clues, but the difference is now he's asking what they mean instead of just guessing or avoiding.

"There's nothing here to eat. I ordered Chinese."

"Okay. Sounds good."

He takes off his suit coat and tosses it over the treadmill, then starts to loosen his tie as he sits down next to me. As I lean into him, I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. He automatically wraps his arm around my shoulders and gives me a little squeeze. I lean further into him and wrap my arms around his waist. With my head on his chest, I can hear the steadiness of his heartbeat, and it relaxes me. When he holds me like this the world feels right. I close my eyes and shut out the view of a bachelor pad that is technically my home. Ten minutes or so goes by, I take another deep breath and sit up. He smiles softly at me.

"What's up?" He knows something's going on with me.

"Oh, you know, just all of a sudden the word "Transition" has taken on a whole new meaning. I'm really happy to be with you, but I'm feeling a bit discombobulated right now. In my head, I know I'm not homeless, and as long as you're holding me, I know it in my heart too. But sitting here, I'm just feeling a bit overwhelmed." I shrug and motion vaguely around his apartment.

"You know you can make any changes you want, right?" I don't know how to articulate it exactly. I don't want to make change for the sake of change. I'm sure we'll eventually make this a home. It just still feels kind of like I'm visiting at the moment.

The buzzer signals that our food is here. I'm glad to be off the hook. I wasn't looking for a serious discussion. Really, there isn't anything to talk about. I really don't think he'll care if I change everything, not that I want to. As he gets the door, I get up and head for the kitchen for a couple of beers.

"Plates at the table or eating from the cartons in front of the TV.?"

"Whadda you wanna do?"

We haven't eaten at the table here since we got married. If we do, it will feel like our first meal in our home. I don't feel ready.

"TV." I say to him bringing the beer into the living room. He puts the bags in front of me, then flips the TV on and turns the volume to the point where we can hear it but easily talk over it. I start pulling out cartons and chop-sticks.

"What's the package?" I ask him tilting my head toward the box.

"I don't know but it's from the White House. Should I open it now?"

"Yeah."

He walks over to the desk and rummages around until he finds a letter opener, then splits the tape on the box. Once it's open he lifts out a gift wrapped in sparkling white paper and tied with a satin bow.

"Oh, it's a wedding present! Do you want to open it he?" He asks me.

"I got to do the last one. You should get a turn."

Josh unties the ribbon and puts it on my head playfully. I reach up and pull it off and gently roll it up. I'll save it for later. He rips off the wrapping, then opens the top and pulls out a vase and sets it on the coffee table.

I pick it up to look at it while he reads the card. He looks up and smiles at me.

"It's from the Bartlets."

Of course it is. It's a heavy Waterford Crystal vase. One side is etched with the President's seal. The other side is etched with "The Lymans- established 2006."

Josh sits down and picks up the Mushu Chicken.

"That's really amazing."

"Yeah, it is." I walk over to the bookshelf and put it on display. Suddenly, I feel better. Home is where Josh is. We'll make this one our own.