XI
They all turned to return to their offices - all except Sam, who continued to stare at the blank TV set. CJ and Josh exchanged worried glances.
"Uh, Sam?" CJ said tentatively. "Are you okay?"
He blinked and looked at her with wide eyes. "Did you hear that?" he demanded.
"Yeah, we, uh, we all heard it, Sam," Josh pointedly out slowly.
"No! Don't you see?" Sam demanded excitedly. "She said 'dirty old man'!"
"I'm not sure that's exactly anything to be grateful for, Sam," Leo pointed out, frowning at him in puzzlement.
"Old!" said Sam, as if they were being incredibly dense. "She called him old! She wasn't talking about the president at all!"
CJ laughed, puzzled. "Well, I'll admit the president's well-preserved, Sam, but-"
"He was in his twenties, CJ," Sam pointed out. "Yeah, he would have been half a dozen years older than Rebecca Gerrold, but you wouldn't call him a dirty old man!"
"So she misspoke!" shrugged Leo impatiently.
"She was shouting in the street, Sam, it's not as if she was working from a script," agreed Toby, looking at his deputy worriedly. They were all beginning to wonder if Sam was cracking under the pressure.
"No! Don't you get it? We've been looking at this all wrong!" Sam said animatedly. "We knew she must have some kind of a vendetta for pinning this on the president, but we couldn't see what."
"And you... think you can see it?" asked Donna, frowning anxiously at him.
"She said 'dirty old man'!" he repeated. "An old man. Not the president, not Jonathan Bartlet - an old man. We got it all wrong!"
He stared around at them, eyes alight with realisation. "Daniel Gerrold isn't the president's son. He's his brother!"
After he'd finished speaking, the Oval Office was silent.
Sam bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Mr. President," he said softly, not explaining what he was sorry for. He didn't have to. The president nodded in acknowledgement, and touched his arm.
"That's okay, Sam. We can't try to be responsible for these things." He smiled, a sad, reflective look, but a marked improvement over the stony countenance he'd kept these past few days.
"Did you think..." Sam hesitated, not sure if there was a line he was crossing over here. "I mean, did you suspect...?" He shook his head helplessly.
"Perhaps..." The president sighed, and shrugged. "It was obvious as soon as Johnny told me the boy wasn't his. But... in a way, no, I didn't suspect."
Meaning he hadn't wanted to. Sam understood that all too well.
"I'm sorry about the letters, sir," he said quietly. Bad enough to learn by your father's actions that you meant less than nothing to him, but to see it spelt out in black and white... The president just shook his head.
"It was... not a great surprise." He smiled wryly. "No doubt the newspapers will hurry to crucify my father, excoriate him as a way of making amends for attacking me. As if it was ever a question of balance and revenge. It's more complicated than that."
"It's always more complicated than that," Sam agreed. You could learn in the space of a heartbeat that your father was nothing you'd ever thought him to be... and yet he didn't stop being your father. When it came to relationships, good and bad didn't cancel out - only twisted together into ever more complicated patterns.
The president stood up, sighing. "At the end of the day, our fathers are men, Sam," he said softly. "Only men."
"Yes, sir." Sam stood to join him.
"CJ's with the press now?"
"Yes, sir."
"You think they'll believe this?"
"I think Felicity Gerrold'll cave under the pressure," Sam said, with a little more confidence than he felt. "She wants revenge too much to not tell the truth if we push her."
The president rubbed his face. "She has more than a right to be angry, Sam."
"Not at you," he pointed out quietly.
"Maybe not." He didn't sound entirely convinced, but Sam didn't push him. He understood. Maybe none of the others would, but he understood.
It was always more complicated than that.
"You'll let me know when CJ's done with the press?" Sam nodded. "I have to speak to Abbey."
The president clapped him on the shoulder, a gesture of solidarity, and he left the Oval Office.
"This better work," CJ warned.
"It will work," Josh said determinedly.
"We're gonna be right in front of the press," she pointed out. "If Sam's wrong-"
"He's not wrong," said Toby softly.
CJ frowned at him suspiciously. "How can you be so sure?"
Toby just looked at her, inscruitable as ever. Maybe he knew something that made him certain. Maybe he was just being Toby.
"Okay." She took a deep breath. Sam was right. Sam had to be right. The president's father... Suddenly it all made a lot of sense.
The question was, would they be able to prove it? They had only one card to play, and if Felicity Gerrold didn't crack in front of the press, this nightmare might never be over.