Series: Snapshots of the Past

Story: The Nobel Laureate

Chapter 7

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Previously: Jed expressed his regret that his father wasn't here to react to news of his Nobel Prize; Abbey worried that if John was alive, he'd put a damper on his son's achievement; Jed and Abbey celebrated privately

Summary: As Jed rushes to get his daughters out of the house on Halloween, he encounters a snag with Liz; Abbey faces a serious problem with her patient

Feedback is always appreciated!

Author's Note: Thanks to Sharon for co-authoring this chapter! And thanks to everyone for all the feedback

Living with Abbey for fifteen years had taught Jed Bartlet the most confusing thing about the woman in his life: she won't leave the house until she looks the part. Abbey was always radiant to him, but for some reason, when preparing for a night out, her natural beauty was overshadowed by a desire for utter perfection.

Darting from room to room while getting ready, she'd interrupt him occasionally to ask his opinion on her dress. Sometimes, it was her shoes or even her earrings. And frequently, he'd get trampled by a web of questions he was positive were designed to manipulate his thoughts, tangle his words, and get him in trouble.

He got used to it though. In fact, fifteen years later, he considered it part of her charm. So it didn't annoy him at all when his daughters picked up that trait. It was just one more way they reminded him of their mother.

Of course, there were certain nights when being late had consequences more severe than others. On New Year's Eve, he could compensate for a poor viewing of the ball drop in Times Square. On Valentine's Day, he'd find an alternative to a restaurant that may have canceled their reservation. But on Halloween, it was excruciatingly difficult to explain to an overzealous toddler why some neighbors may have run out of candy.

Zoey followed her father as he paced at the bottom of the stairs waiting for Ellie and Liz. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and if she had had pockets on her silver Hershey's Kiss costume, hers probably would have been too. Instead, she settled for shrugging her shoulders now and then, but because her outfit was formed by thin shimmery straps on her shoulder that swelled to a big silver bulb around her little hips, even a shrug wasn't very comfortable.

A sterling cap laid flat on her head and every time she moved, the white ribbon with a glittery inscription of the candy's logo that hung from it, would sway in the breeze.

She had begged her parents for weeks to dress up as her favorite chocolate treat. Abbey combed the state, searching for the costume that would highlight her daughter's playful personality. But her effort proved fruitless and so, she spent hours over the past few days sewing one together herself. She did well, Jed had to admit. Zoey had never looked more precious.

"You better make sure no one mistakes you for a real treat tonight," he told the toddler.

Zoey simply smiled as she continued toddling behind him from one side of the floor to the other. "I want candy now."

"You'll get your candy. Mom should be home any minute, so as long as Ellie and Lizzie get down here, we can leave." He faced the staircase and hollered to his two older daughters, "Girls! Let's go! I want to get a picture of the three of you before we hit the road!"

"We're coming," Ellie assured him when she made her entrance. She was dressed in a satin blue dress with puffy sleeves. Abbey had spent hours the night before adjusting the white apron on the bodice and stitching the hem. White stockings covered her legs and a bow tamed her soft blonde curls. "Do I look like Alice in Wonderland?"

"Oh, Princess, you look prettier than Alice ever looked!" Jed held out his hand to help her down the steps. "Come on down here. You're just beautiful in your costume."

"Thank you, Daddy."

"Now put on your jacket. It's a little chilly tonight." He walked to the closet to get Zoey's jacket. "You too, Miss Zoey."

"No jacket!"

"You have to wear a jacket."

The little girl shook her head defiantly. "No!"

"If you don't wear a jacket, you can't go." She put on a stubborn expression and refused. Jed shrugged. "Okay, suit yourself. I'll call Mrs. Weaver to watch you while I take Ellie trick-or-treating."

Zoey contemplated this thought. She had been looking forward to Halloween from the moment Jed and Abbey explained the concept. It was a night like no other, Lizzie told her. She'd get to dress up and eat candy. That's all that really sank in. That's all it meant. But to Zoey, it was the biggest night of her young life.

Jed set aside her jacket as if he would accept her choice to stay home. With each passing second, Zoey's face crumbled just a little more until a frown outlined her pouty lips and her faint sniffles melted into a wail so loud that Jed immediately rushed to her side and scooped her up in his arms. He rubbed soothing strokes across her back and, eventually, Zoey pulled away to plead with him.

"I wanna go twick-o-tweat!" she mumbled through a cry.

"And I want to take you. So how about you wear a jacket just like Ellie?" He dabbed at the tears streaming down her face. "We're going to have so much fun out there and when we get home, we'll go through all your candy and you'll get to eat some of it."

"All of it?" Her bottom lip quivered when she pushed it out.

"Nice try." Jed chuckled. "You will get to have some though and we'll save the others for tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. But only if you wear your jacket. What do you say, Sweetheart? Will you wear your it?"

Zoey swallowed past her cries. She stopped sobbing and replied weakly. "Okay."

"Okay." Jed set her down and helped her climb into a light jacket. "Ellie, what's keeping Lizzie? If she wants to make it to her party on time, we're going to have to get going."

"Mommy's not home, is she?" Ellie asked.

"She will be. The question is who will be ready first - your mother or Elizabeth?"

"Lizzie said she's almost ready."

"I am ready!" Liz declared from the top landing. Unlike Zoey and Ellie, her costume was hidden under a thick winter coat. "Let's go."

Jed extended his hand as he sang to her. "There she is, Miss America..."

"Dad," Liz laughed.

"Can I help it if I'm in the company of such beautiful women? It inspires me to brighten your day with the wonderful gift of music."

"I can think of worse things you could sing."

"You know, it's not that cold outside," Jed informed her. "Believe it or not, it's unseasonably warm. You can take off the coat."

"Me too!" Zoey complained.

"No, not you too. It's cold enough for a jacket, not a coat."

"I don't want it!"

"Zoey Patricia, if you take it off, you don't get to go." Reluctantly, Zoey kept her jacket on, but she wasn't the least bit happy about it. Now that he had averted that problem, Jed turned his attention to Liz. "Why do you have a coat?"

"I get cold easily and my legs aren't totally covered." Her arms were folded over her chest to cover any gaps from the buttons.

Jed looked to the bottom hem of her coat. "Why not? Why aren't you wearing your boots?"

"Huh?" Liz followed her father's stare down to her heels. "Oh. They were a little tight around the toes, so I'm bringing them with me. They're already in the car."

It amazed him how much his oldest daughter underestimated his parental instincts. Jed circled around her when she stepped onto the wood floor at the bottom of the stairs. "I thought you were wearing tights."

"They're like tights. They're thick hose."

Jed nodded unapprovingly. She was testing him. "And where's the headband you're supposed to wear? Wonder Woman always has her headband on."

"Dad, you never look this closely. Why are you making a big deal about it?"

"About what?"

"Okay, fine. I decided to make a few changes to the costume Mom and I picked out."

"Mmm hmm," he said, leaning back against the wall.

"I wasn't entirely comfortable. I'm in high school now and I'm going to a high school party. Only little kids dress up as cute cartoon characters. We're teenagers and we dress up differently. I think there will be people there who will appreciate me in this costume better. And I think that if you think about it, you'll realize that when you were my age, you wouldn't have worn a Superman costume, if there were Superman costumes back then. But you would have worn something totally different because you were a teenager once too."

Rambling was never a good sign. He prepared himself for the numerous possibilities of what he was about to see. "Are you finished? Because if so, I'd love to get a look at what you've got under that coat."

"You're not going to understand. You never understand. Can't we just go?"

"Liz, we're not going anywhere until I see what you're wearing."

"Lizzie, there's not going to be anymore candy left," Ellie whined. "Please show him."

"No candy?" Fear blushed Zoey's cheek.

"There will be candy," Jed replied before the toddler tried to squirm her way out of her jacket once again. "We're just not going to get any until I see what Liz is wearing."

Peer pressure was one thing. Succumbing to the pressure of two younger siblings desperately pushing her was quite another. But Liz had such a deep affection for her little sisters that she sighed, bit her lip, and then unbuttoned her coat. "Here."

Ellie's brows arched so high that her forehead wrinkled right into her hairline. Her jaw hung wide open as she stared at the costume. "WOW! Where'd you get it, Lizzie?"

"You like it?" Liz held the sides of the thin black satin overlay that fell to a few inches below her hips and modeled the apron in the middle. The white lace underneath became more visible as she spun around.

"All right, that's enough," Jed intervened. Wonder Woman. That was the costume she had picked. Never in a million years had he imagined that his little girl would be standing in front of him dressed as a French Maid. "What in the world are you wearing?"

"I bought it from the mall with my own money. I think it's pretty." With her thumb and index finger, she pinched the fabric around her chest after realizing it had dipped lower than she intended.

It didn't help. The material was unstable, slipping and sliding all over her body. "I think it's atrocious and there's no way you're wearing that tonight."

"Dad!"

"No. You're popping out of it all over the place, Elizabeth." She wasn't serious, he reasoned. There's no way she could have seriously thought he'd allow her to wear it.

"It's how it's supposed to be! I'll make sure I don't show too much!"

"You're ALREADY showing too much! That thing ends at your hips," he yelled.

"It goes half-way to my knees!" she yelled back.

"Not unless your knees have magically moved seven inches up your thigh."

"That's such an exaggeration."

"No, forget it. There's no way I'm letting my fourteen-year-old daughter walk out of this house in that." He noticed the tighter layer of lace and ruffles that peeked out from under the black satin when she played with the hem. "People are going to think that's your underwear."

"How do you know it's not?" Liz answered coyly. She knew just how to try his patience.

"Elizabeth," Jed grumbled.

"I was kidding! Take a joke, Dad!"

"Do I look like I'm in a joking mood? Get upstairs and change into the Wonder Woman costume you and your mother picked out."

"I don't want to be Wonder Woman! The costume is loose on me."

"Your mom spent half the night taking it in and if it's still loose, that's too bad. You should have bought a smaller size."

"There were only two left and Mom wouldn't let me get the other one because she said it was too skimpy!"

"Well, I can assure you she won't be the least bit happy about your alternative then. And if you think I'm not going to tell her..."

"I want to wear it! Everyone at the party will be have a costume like this. There might even be some upperclassmen there and they're ALL going to be dressed up as sexy bunnies or slinky kittens."

Jed furrowed his brows. "What the hell kind of party are you going to? I thought you said Kim's parents were going to be there the whole time."

"They are! You can even talk to them when you drop me off. No one's going to be drinking or making out or anything else. We're just having fun. Even Kim has a sexy costume!"

Noticing her frustration, Jed changed his strategy. "All right, look. I'm not trying to ruin this night for you. I swear I'm not. But you just sprang this on me at the last minute and fun or no fun, I don't feel right letting you go to a party in a short, low-cut French Maid costume. I'm sorry. You're going to have to change."

"You won't even consider it? Please?"

"It's not appropriate for a girl your age. I'm not sure it's appropriate for a girl any age."

Out of options, Liz shot back accusingly. "Of course it is. That's why Mom has one EXACTLY like it in her private drawer!"

His face paled in embarrassment, but he railed against it as soon as he was hit with his daughter's sneaky tactic of misdirection. "It's called 'private' for a reason. From now on, you don't go into our room without permission."

"Fine."

"And don't talk to me that way either. Now go change." When she didn't budge, he gave her a warning. "Liz, if I were you, I'd get myself upstairs right now before I call off this whole thing off. You have two choices - Wonder Woman or the Snow White costume you wore last year."

"Snow White is a little girl's costume."

"Tough. Choose one and let's go."

"I can't wait until I'm 18!" She turned on her heels and with no small amount of exasperation, stomped her way up the steps. "When I'm an adult, I'm going to be a French Maid every single Halloween!"

"And that's why you're never leaving the dungeon."

"That's not funny!" Her final reply ended with a slam of her bedroom door.

"It wasn't really meant to be," Jed said quietly as he paced the floor once again.

Confrontations with Liz these days usually wore him out. He held strong, knowing that Liz wasn't a bad kid. She was a straight "A" student, always involved in extracurricular activities, a wonderful big sister, devoted to Ellie and Zoey more than he ever imagined she'd be, and a pretty spectacular daughter, volunteering to help out around the house whenever she could.

But she was the temperamental one in the family and like any other teenager, she was now a bit rebellious.

It didn't help matters that Liz had learned how to take advantage of Abbey's busy work schedule to manipulate Jed into getting her own way. Fortunately, he had become immune to her tricks and though he found himself constantly putting his foot down, he was secure in the knowledge that his relationship with Liz was rock solid.

Everyone else knew it too. That's why, on this particular night, Ellie and Zoey stayed out of the skirmish between father and daughter. They had learned long ago that their fights lasted only minutes and they assumed that once Lizzie changed into an appropriate costume, things would return to normal.

After the drama had died down, Zoey yanked on Ellie's skirt. "What's a dushen?"

"A dungeon. It's this dark room, like in a castle. It's where they keep all the prisoners." When Zoey squinted her eyes at the thought of Lizzie being sent to live in a dungeon, Ellie backtracked. "Well, it's really not scary or anything. Anyway, I think Daddy was only kidding. You won't really send Lizzie to a dungeon, right Daddy?"

Something lighthearted he had blurted out to Liz had an entirely different meaning to a younger, confused Zoey. He had to remind himself of that often. "Yeah, I was joking, Sunshine. I didn't really mean a dungeon."

"What did you mean?" Ellie questioned.

"I meant the basement. Just a regular basement like the one we have. And I'm not going to send her there. Not by herself anyway. It'll be the two of you, me, Liz, and your mom and we'll hang out every day and play cards and board games. Just the five of us. Not at all scary, okay?"

"Okay," Zoey replied, a smile framing her lips.

That explanation sounded much better to Ellie as well. "I like board games."

"I do too."

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"How come Mommy has a French Maid costume in her private drawer?"

Jed was drawn in to Ellie's inquisitive stare. He wasn't about to tell her the real story behind the costume, so he gave her the only other answer that came to mind. "She thought about wearing it herself to go trick-or-treating."

"REALLY?" Ellie's eyes lit up at the thought. "Mommy's gonna dress up this year?"

"Um...well..." The next question bought him some time.

"And how come Lizzie couldn't wear it too?"

"Because Lizzie's too young to wear something like that."

"But you said it's not good for anyone."

"I did, but it's a different thing here, Ellie. It's a grown-up thing."

"Is Mommy really going to wear it when we go trick-or-treating?"

Jed could just picture Abbey's face. Angry shades of purple and red would dominate her skin. Her eyes would be hurling daggers into his body. He opened his mouth to make an excuse, but was immediately interrupted by the ringing telephone. "Thank God." He dashed towards the receiver before Ellie could stop him. "Hello?"

"Hi," the familiar voice greeted him.

"Abbey?" He glanced at his watch. "You're supposed to be walking through the door any minute. Where are you?"

"Don't get mad."

"Oh, Abbey. Not tonight. The girls have been looking forward to this for so long."

"I'm sorry, Jed. I would have called earlier, but I was still holding on to a shred of hope that I'd be out of here in time." Her voice trembled slightly.

So slightly that if Jed hadn't been paying attention, he might have missed it. "What's going on?"

"Post-op complications. Bill Niederlander. He's got a fever of 103. He can barely breathe, rapid pulse, the whole nine yards. He's not responding to standard antibiotics."

"You think it's an infection?" Being married to a doctor, he had picked up some medical knowledge of his own.

"I think so. I ordered some blood cultures, but I can't wait for them. I need to take him back into surgery. Plus, his wife, Arlene, isn't convinced he needs to go back in and I'm afraid I may have been a little short with her."

"Honey, it's okay. No other doctor treats her patients and their families as kindly as you do. I'm sure it wasn't as bad as you think. And if it was, she'll understand that it's been a long day. You've been working on the kids' costumes all week. I can tell how tired you are."

"It's just...he's in bad shape."

"Then it's a good thing he's got you. Go in there and do what you have to do."

She nodded with a sigh. "Tell the girls I love them and that I'll make it up to them? Oh, and take a picture for me?"

"Of course."

"Thanks."

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"The guy's pretty lucky to have a doctor like you. You're the best, Abbey. I've always known that."

His encouraging words were just what Abbey needed at that moment. Doubts had been festering since before the first operation and six hours later, they only grew deeper. Slowly, she hung up the phone, running her palm over the receiver before taking a deep breath and preparing herself to go back to the O.R.

The operating room. The place she had been thousands of times. The place she received the most intensive training imaginable. As she scrubbed her hands, the smell of iodine soap mingling with the roughness of the scrub brush against her smooth skin offended her senses. It was stronger tonight than ever before. Harsher.

She stared through the plexiglass at the patient lying on the table. A nurse was placing sterile drapes around the original incision site and like an instant trigger, it sparked a reminder for Abbey. It had been 36 hours since she made the first cut of the Coronary Artery Bypass Graft.

The procedure would be a common one, she had told him. It was supposed to be as easy as she had seen during all those medical seminars, as easy as it had been when she assisted with one as a second-year resident. But Bill Niederlander was an older gentleman who had been battling his health since he was diagnosed with diabetes a decade earlier.

Still, she was confident in this surgery. She took every precaution she could and when something went wrong afterwards, she reacted quickly. Six hours later, his condition was rapidly deteriorating. It would be up to her to fix him, so she refused to admit to the staff that would be helping her that deep down in the deepest crevasse of her heart, she was scared she couldn't.

With a sharp breath, she twisted her neck to get rid of the tension that came from a twelve-hour shift, turned off the faucet with her elbows, and walked through the swinging door into the O.R. A nurse dried her hands as she looked to the anesthesiologist.

"Chuck, how is he?"

"A little shocky, but holding his own. He's good to go."

Abbey nodded. "You let me know if anything out of the ordinary happens, any reason we need to stop."

"Of course," Dr. Chuck Bradley replied.

Abbey slipped her arms through the sterile gown a nurse held out for her. She snapped her gloves just as she had for every other procedure, then took her place at the table. She was the lead surgeon on this case. She was the one calling all the shots.

The room was dim, gloomier than she expected. She adjusted the overhead lamp to flood the table with a strong ray of light and nodding to her assistant, she took the scalpel from the O.R. tech to make the first incision.

"Pads! I need more pads." Reacting to the abscess she found, Abbey yelled at the tech to clean up the wound. "Can't you help me?"

Suddenly, a high-pitched squeak penetrated the room. "He's crashing!" Chuck shouted, frantically reaching for the drugs.

Through a mountain of nerves, Abbey took charge. "Paddles! Atropine! Epinepherine! Now!" She stopped for a second to catch her breath, then screamed louder. "Where the hell are the paddles?"

Each team member scrambled to respond to her orders.

"100 jules! Clear!"

The nurse nodded and pushed the button. Abbey flinched when Mr. Niederlander convulsed with the current forced through his body.

"No response. Give me 200. Clear!"

The team backed away from the table as another shock was administered.

"Damn it! Dr. Bradley, get those meds in him!"

"They've been given, Dr. Bartlet. He's just not responding!"

"300! Another dose of drugs! Clear!"

Another shock and still no response.

"Clear!"

Yet another unresponsive shock.

By the fifth time, the team knew it was over. Despite Abbey's further attempts, they all looked at one another, their eyes peeking over their masks to see who would tell the surgeon that there was no hope. Finally, it was Chuck who stood up and came around the end of the table.

Grabbing Abbey's hands, he took the paddles from her and placed them down. "He's gone, Dr. Bartlet. There's nothing else we can do."

"No," Abbey insisted, shrugging out of his hold and retrieving the paddles to try again.

Chuck reached for her shoulders this time. Turning her towards him so he could look her squarely in the eye, he dropped the formality. "Abbey! He's gone! He's gone. He's gone."

"Time of death, 6:08 p.m." another doctor called out.

"Do you want me to tell the family?" Chuck asked softly.

Abbey shook her head. "No. That's my responsibility. Just give me a minute, okay?"

Her energy had been completely zapped. She staggered around aimlessly for several seconds before she pulled off her gloves and kicked open the swinging doors.

TBC