Title: Heaven and Hell (Chapter 21): The Fulbrights
Author: Enigmatic Ellie
Lyman House
2:25 a.m.
The storm had subsided though the wind continued to whip at the District with a fury worthy of disgruntled voters on Election Day. Donna stirred from her resting place on the couch. She listened intently for several seconds to the sounds of the room. The fire could be heard crackling quietly as though it were dying. She expected other sounds, the sounds of her guests, who she believed were camping out on the floor around the room. At least, that's where they were when she last saw them before drifting off to sleep. No sooner did she turn her head to survey the room than the reason she was awake nudged her in the side again.
"Ow," Donna groaned shifting to a different position. She sat up from her place on the couch and looked around at the darkness. She became aware of a silhouette on the far side of the room. "Josh?"
"No, it's Toby," Toby said softly then moved away from the window and back toward her voice. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't; they did," Donna replied getting comfortable in the corner of the couch. "They're up."
"They?" Toby asked then looked around the room.
"Them," Donna said with a touch of grumble in her voice as she rubbed her distended abdomen then. She caught her tone then shook her head and spoke to her midsection. "Sorry."
"You apologize to them?" Toby scoffed. "Do they have ears?"
"Yes, and they're on the outside of the head now," Donna informed him. "That look on your face is the same one Josh had so you must have the same question he did so: No, I'm not fully certain where the ears were before they were on the outside."
"Oh, did I wake them?" Toby asked a little disgusted and a little intrigued.
"No," Donna assured him. "It must be around 2 a.m. For the last week or so, this is when decide to do calisthenics."
"It's 2:25," Toby answered checking his watch in the dim light from the fireplace.
"So they're running a little later than normal," she observed. "It's been an odd day. Where's Josh? And where's CJ?"
"They left," Toby explained. "CJ couldn't sleep. She was worried about her car. She was going to try to dig it out herself, but Josh went with her. He didn't want to, but… I'm not sure what possessed him to be generous. Maybe he's running a fever."
"He might be," Donna said. "He has tonsilitus. But I didn't' tell you that."
"Isn't that a children's ailment?" Toby asked then shrugged. "Actually, don't tell me. Nothing would surprise me about Josh and mostly I don't care about your answer. They left about an hour ago; they should either get the car here or give up and return shortly."
"Why didn't you go?" Donna asked.
"I don't even like being outside in daylight or warm weather," Toby said firmly. "I told Mrs. Grizzly Adams and Nature Boy that I'd sit out this field trip."
"CJ needed help and Josh doesn't think I can sleep without supervision," Donna interpreted with a nod. "He's become a flagrant a worrywart."
"I can empathize," Toby replied. "And for the record, he didn't ask me to stay behind. I made it known I had no intention of helping. CJ's whining and guilt just worked better on him than me."
"Guilt trips don't work on you?" Donna asked.
"CJ's efforts are too mediocre," Toby scoffed. "I have a tolerance more akin to a Jedi level. My mother chaired the committee that invented guilt trips."
Donna listened and tried to move too much as the extra arms an legs inside her were beginning to do their after midnight exploring. One of them normally found a nerve bundle that shot hot pains down her right leg. She wasn't sure why, but she was certain it was the boy. It was more aggravating than painful and kept repeating the process as if it he enjoyed; that alone reminded her sufficiently of Josh that she felt her assignment of the activity to their son was justified.
"Has he spoken to you about…," Toby began. "I'm not sure how to say this. You know about Sam? About why he and Josh don't…"
"I know all about it," she said quickly. "I spoke to Sam months ago. It was wrong, but I forgave him."
"Josh hasn't," Toby said.
"I know," she replied. "Is it a problem?"
"It's going to be," Toby said. "They need to completely trust each other if they're going to get this immigration thing through the House or the Senate. We've only got so much political capital we can spend on this, and the rest has got to be covered by our own savvy—something that generally dooms us from the start."
"What does that have to do with…," Donna began.
"That's going to mean taking some risks and making some quick and very informed decisions," Toby said. "They need to be in complete synchronization to do this. And even if they fake it well enough, Josh is not going to see this one to the end. He's going to have to abdicate this to Sam in the home stretch. That is, unless you want to do the whole labor and first few weeks with your children solo."
"He says he can handle both," Donna said.
"He thinks he can, but Leo agrees with me," Toby stated. "Josh needs to be focused on the bill and only the bill if he's working with it. From what I have seen in the last few weeks, that's not going to be possible."
"Because he's mad at Sam?" she asked.
"Because of you," Toby replied uncomfortably. "You'd have to be blind to not see that he has great concern and… affection for you."
"What is it with people like you?" Donna asked. "A family is not an Achilles heel."
"I'm not faulting him, Donna," Toby said earnestly. "But you said so yourself, you are much more of a concern for him than you ever have been previously. I suppose on some level, I envy him. Your relationship is not a bad thing—well, maybe for you, but you chose to marry him so I can only assume that you enjoy his presence."
Donna smirked and let Toby continue.
"However, he has two very different lives right now and they don't intersect very well," Toby said. "I wouldn't ask that he choose between them, but I also know he's not going to focus on running a vote if he's keeping tabs on whether or not you're in labor. He can get us to the point where we can run without him, but we'll get there quicker if he learns to trust Sam. Sam has to know every thought that runs through Josh's head on this thing, and Josh isn't really interested in sharing that much with him right now."
"Why are you telling me this?" Donna wondered. "If you're concerned or if Leo is, talk to Josh. This sort of thinking is what started all the trouble in the first place, isn't it?"
"I'd like to think lack of sleep and Sam's closet fascination with that fruity coffee place and his apparent penchant for believing people actually live out the maudlin plots to bad '80s melodramas gave rise to things," Toby said rubbing his head. "It takes me off the hook even further for any responsibility in this mess."
"I can't give him orders," Donna said. "Well, I can, but I only have a 50 percent chance he'll entertain them. Have Leo talk to him. Josh will listen to Leo; even when he was mad at him, Josh still listened to Leo."
"Leo trusts Josh and doesn't think my concern is founded in reality," Toby answered. "Leo is a wise man, but there are times when he is wrong. I think he has at least a small blind spot where Josh is concerned."
"What do you mean?"
"From the moment Leo brought Josh onto the first campaign, he put him in a place of ultimate trust and responsibility and even when Josh was behaving like a jackass in the late fall, Leo never seriously considered replacing him," Toby scoffed then shook his head. "Josh has screwed up colossally in the past and Leo stood by him. To put it succinctly, Leo thinks Josh can slay dragons. Donna, you know what I'm talking about. I understand that Josh is his guy. He's Leo's go-to more often than not, but when Josh is struggling or when he's in trouble, Leo won't step in and bail him out usually because he's usually absolutely certain Josh can pull himself out of it. Normally, he does. But when he doesn't…"
"Crash and burn," Donna nodded.
"Yeah," Toby agreed. "After Rosslyn, Josh should have gone through a full traumatic incident debriefing—not that five minute Q and A they did at the hospital. Leo let him come back to the office—let him start working from home even before then—just because Josh convinced him that he was fine. Leo refused to see what we all were seeing; it took an incident in the Oval Office in front of the President to make him understand what we all were saying: Josh needed help. I think we all knew that no one could be perfectly fine after what Josh went through, but Leo believed Josh could be because he believes in Josh."
Donna nodded. She agreed to the point. She had been concerned that Josh was bouncing back from the shooting too quickly. She kept a careful eye on him and brought her concerns to Leo initially. Leo told her to keep an eye on things but not to worry too much because Josh was tough and could get through anything. It wasn't until the incident in the Oval Office that the Chief of Staff was forced to concede that his mighty deputy was in dire straights.
"Leo tells me everything is working just fine with Sam and Josh," Toby said. "They're making progress and getting it done, he tells me. Outward appearances that seems true. But Sam is hesitant in all the steps he takes because he knows Josh doesn't trust him, and Josh is holding this grudge which keeps him from really jumping into this with Sam because he's not sure if he hates the guy. They can have their meetings, and they can do opposition prep. I don't care if they can sit and write a brief together. The trust we need for this isn't there, and it needs to be—soon. So I'm asking you to talk to him."
"What would I say?" she asked. "Toby, I agree with you that this has gone on for too long. But what do you want me to say to him: Josh, you need to forgive Sam for not trusting you and doing his level best to prevent you from falling for me? No, Toby, I won't. Josh has had a lot taken away from him in his life. He never deserved any of it, but it happened anyway. That's just how life has treated him. Do I think he's taking out a lot of that frustration on Sam? Sure. Is it wrong? Probably. But this is something he needs to work through in his own time. If you're concerned about it impacting his work, you talk to him."
"If I thought my saying anything to him would work, I would have," Toby sighed.
"And you think going behind his back to manipulate him is a smart thing to do?" Donna questioned. "I'm going to reiterate here that this what started this problem in the first place."
Toby looked at her with frustration and resignation. He had come to the same conclusion but hoped he was being too cynical. Hearing his own thoughts clearly from Donna's mouth depressed him.
"Do they hurt you?" Toby asked after a moment.
"Josh and Sam's problem?" Donna asked then shrugged. "I really don't think about…"
"No, the babies," Toby said gesturing at her and seeing no need to make her upset. "You were groaning a second ago. Are you in pain?"
"Nothing I can't handle," she said. "I mean, even if I couldn't handle it, I don't really have a choice. The one on the left side has a lot of energy and doesn't really seem to care what gets in his way: a rib, an organ. He just collides with it. If I didn't know better, I'd swear he enjoys causing me pain."
"That's the boy?" Toby asked. He felt pangs of envy. One of the reasons he believed his own marriage failed was their inability to have what his wife wanted most: a child.
"I think it is, so I say 'he,'," Donna replied. "If his behavior in utero is any indication, we'll need to find a very patient preschool for him."
Toby nodded and made no further comment. He had none to offer. He didn't engage people in conversations about their children normally. He knew nothing of babies and very little about toddlers. School age children scared him and teenagers just drew him to pits of despair with their lack of direction or devotion to anything other than hedonistic pleasures. At least, that's what he told himself anytime discussions other people's families arose. It was easier than letting himself dwell on that empty spot in his own life.
His search for a new topic of conversation was mercifully short as the sounds of voices in the garage floated into the room followed by the sounds of footsteps. Moments later, CJ and Josh entered the house bickering quietly.
"Are you all right, either of you, both of you?" Donna called as she heard them enter through the garage entrance. "You can argue in here near the fire where it's warmer. You won't wake anyone."
"Why are you awake?" Josh asked from the recesses of the hall.
"Toby and I went outside and made snow angels," she said. "Was CJ's car okay?"
"It was fine," CJ said in a starchy tone. "It was just a little buried. A plow had come by and made enough of a path to back it up and move it. Everything's fine."
"CJ killed a dog," Josh said walking into the room sporting a grin and cheeks flushed by the cold temperatures outside. He was followed swiftly by CJ.
"I did not," she protested and gaped at him. "That wasn't a dog. It was… it was… It was already dead, first off all. Nothing can be that stiff and still have any life to it."
"Your private life is just really sad, isn't it?" Josh chuckled despite the sharp back-handed slap she landed on his chest. "Is that why you killed the dog?"
"I'm not even sure it was an animal of any sort," she seethed. "It looked like a chuck of ice."
"Shaped like a dog," Josh offered and ducked another blow from her hand.
"Do you even know what a dog looks like?" CJ asked. "Aren't you the sissy on staff who's afraid of bears around every corner outside?"
"No, that sissy is Toby," Josh informed her confidently pointing at the man seated near the fire. "I'm the one who helped you up after that cow attacked you in the first campaign."
"I notice you didn't disagree with the sissy part," she said sharply and walked away from him to get closer to the flames and to warm herself.
"Why are you awake?" Josh asked Donna again.
"Exercise time," she said stifling a yawn.
"You get up and exercise at this hour?" CJ asked.
"Not me," Donna said and rubbed a spot on her abdomen where she was certain the tips of toes were attempting to protrude. "They're more active now but with less room. I can't sleep through it lately. Sometimes you can see little bumps here and there move. It's actually rather…"
"Gross," Josh grimaced. Then looked at Donna. "It is. It reminds me of the movie Alien."
Donna kicked him lightly in the ankle in reprimand, much to CJ's pleasure.
"Oh, he gets kicked too," CJ nodded. "Nice."
Josh glared at CJ then attempted to remind his wife she was part of his Don't Hit Josh group.
"Josh gets queasy with anything… biological," Donna said and earned a blazing stare from him.
"I do not," he protested.
"You nearly fainted when I just told about how I had blood drawn two weeks ago," Donna reminded him. "You weren't even there."
"So it would be a good idea to get in on the pool that says he faints in the delivery room," CJ ventured with a devious grin.
"There's no real money to win on that," Toby said knowingly. "Everyone knows it's a sure thing."
"Hold on, there's no pool about me," Josh said. "That's not right."
Before he could argue his point further, there was a chirping noise from the floor near Toby. Everyone in the room froze for a moment, surprised to be reminded that technology still existed and was functioning somewhere. Toby groped on the floor for a moment and retrieved a cellphone from under his chair.
"That's me," he said the answered. "Toby Ziegler…. Leo….. Uh, yeah, fine. Why?... It did?... They did?... Did anyone think to, I don't know, look for… No, no…. What?... I'm with CJ now; we're at Josh's."
"Ahem," Donna interjected.
"And Donna's," Toby added dutifully. "I don't know. I can ask."
He pulled the phone away from his chin for a moment and turned to Josh.
"Leo's been trying to reach you," Toby said. "Is your phone dead or are you ignoring him?"
Rather than answer, Josh held his hand out and took Toby's phone. He then walked out of the room to continue his conversation with Leo while scanning the darkness with great futility to search for his phone.
"That was Leo?" CJ asked.
"What gave you that idea?" Toby asked.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"The power's out so I'm guessing that a lot and a little at the same time," Toby said. "He's still at the White House; Sam's there, too. Apparently Sam received a report that my car was hit by a plow or a tank or something. There was some concern for a moment, apparently, that I might have been in it."
"You weren't," Donna offered with a simple smile.
"Apparently," Toby nodded then groaned. "And the stellar minds that made that brilliant deduction couldn't make another quantum leap and figure out how to reach me. There's a message on my office door to see security about it when I get in tomorrow."
"Well, Leo did call," CJ said as some consolation.
"He was tired of being pestered by Sam," Toby replied. "Sam tried calling my apartment and when I didn't answer decided that wherever I was I was better off not getting the information from him. However, when putting the note on my door, he realized that I'm the one fixing that last piece for the G-8 economic summit speech, and he figured it might be a good idea to find out if I was anywhere at all."
"That's sweet in a selfish but dedicated way," CJ said.
"Why did Leo want Josh?" Donna asked.
"A question I've asked myself repeatedly since we met," Toby shook his head and stared into the fire.
The White House
Oval Office Outer Office
4:56 p.m., Thursday
Sam Seaborn leaned on Charlie's desk while he waited for the President to complete his meeting with the Secretary of State. Sam was due to give the commander-in-chief a briefing on the latest proposals for the immigration reform package House Republicans were generating. He was pleased to be given this assignment. He hoped that it was yet another sign that Josh was considering possibly forgiving him.
"Is that smile for me, Sam?" Debbie Fidderer asked as she entered the room. "Because I have to tell you, I turn a lot of men's heads, and it takes more than a set of pearly whites to get me to accept a dinner invitation."
"With a woman of your talents, I would expect a full accreditation and resume would be a prerequisite for just coffee," Sam replied.
"Sarcasm as flattery, how original for this staff," she chided as she looked down at the schedule on her desk. "He's going to be in there for another 10 minutes if you have something else to do."
"No, I'm good," Sam said. "This was only recently put on my schedule, and I made sure I was prepared and made certain I had no competing agenda items."
"You were looking for something to do and Josh got called to the Minority Whip's office to discuss counter proposals," Debbie insisted.
"He did?"
"That's what I heard on CNN," she replied.
"Oh," Sam sighed, feeling less a part of the team. "Then I… well… It's the President so this is important, too."
"Actually, its probably not because whatever you tell him, he'll have already heard from the Secretary of State," Debbie corrected. "He had lunch with Texas delegation today, and they discussed trade and the Mexican economy."
"That was on CNN, too?" Sam asked, thinking he needed a TV in his office.
"No, I heard that from the Secretary of State," Debbie answered. "I think he was trying to impress me so he could get the courage to ask me out to dinner."
"The Secretary of State is married," Sam said, unclear whether she was joking.
"So was I once," she said. "So was my ex husband. That never stopped him from dating."
"You're not serious," Sam said.
"Sure I am," Debbie said. "How do you think I got the house in the divorce?"
"I mean about the Secretary of State," Sam replied befuddled.
"Hey, you never know and I like to keep my options open," she said as she began reading through the stack of memos on her desk. "He does travel a lot and I've always wanted to see the world."
"Why haven't you?"
"It costs money," she sighed. "Maybe I should find an eligible traveling companion on this list."
"What list is that?"
"Fulbright Scholars," she said. "The President accepted an invitation to address a contingent of recent recipients and former recipients this weekend. There are a lot of names on this list."
"Yes, but some of them are female and some of them are recently graduated college seniors," Sam pointed out, recalling the President's weekend address that Toby had finished polishing the previous day. The administration was going to use the event to push for further international ties and cooperation in a number of fields and the immigration question would be one of them.
"Hey, at my age you can't be picky and youth has it's advantages," she said shaking her head. "Now, why is he not on this list?"
"Who?" Sam asked. "You have a calendar of Mr. Fulbright Scholar's? Mr. July missing from the guest list?"
"More like Mr. October," Debbie puzzled. "I was told he would be here. Leo said he would. Guess I have some work to do."
Lyman House,
Friday 12:53 p.m.
A chirping noise split the silence of the living room. Donna heaved herself to a standing position from her seat in the chair opposite the couch. She did so as quickly as possible to retrieve the phone before it woke Josh. He lay on the couch, in the same position where he proclaimed, in hushed tones two hours earlier, that he was not tired. They had returned from the hospital just before 11 a.m. She had left him only briefly to run to the pharmacy to pick up his antibiotics. Upon her return, she found him asleep with his shoes on still and a legal pad clutched to his chest. He had not stirred at all in the time since.
Once standing, she lifted his phone from the front pocket of his backpack and answered it just before the voicemail would have picked up.
"Josh Lyman," she said softly as she made her way out of the living room to afford him more peace.
"Donna, I need him for a minute," Leo said tersely.
"Uh, is it important?" Donna asked hesitantly.
"Is it important?" Leo growled.
"I mean, is it an emergency?" she replied. "He can't talk at the moment."
"That throat thing still?" Leo remarked. "He said it was getting better."
"Well, yes, it is," Donna answered, wondering when Leo began believing Josh's delusions that he was able to recover from anything within moments of being told there was something wrong.
"Look, I need to see him about his meeting with Katz and Bremmer tomorrow," Leo said. "He's at home the rest of the day?"
"Yeah," she said cautiously. "He has to…"
"Look, I'll just drop by," Leo said. "I gotta head to the Pentagon for four so I'll stop by your place first. It'll just take a minute."
Before she could disagree, he disconnected. She thought it odd that Leo would not have gone over something important for a morning meeting with Josh before he took the day off for surgery, but considering the twists and turns of a Washington day, there was a better than average chance that something had come up recently that needed discussion. She returned to the living room and decided she would let him sleep a little while longer. When Leo's car arrived in the drive, she would wake him. Before then, all she needed to do was find him a fresh black marker.
Thirty minutes later, Donna jostled Josh's shoulder and told him to wake up for a visitor. She didn't give him any additional details as she made her way to the front door to greet Leo. He nodded apologetically for the intrusion and asked if she should be the one answering the door.
"Sure, why not?" she asked as she closed the door behind him.
"I'm just… I thought you weren't feeling well," Leo explained. "That's why he wanted to work from home today. He went with you to the hospital for a thing, didn't he?"
"With me to the hospital?" Donna repeated and shook her head at her husband's selective disbursement of information. "Is that what he told you?"
"Honestly, I wasn't really listening, but that was the gist of it," Leo said. "He said something about going with you to the hospital for a procedure. Why?"
"Follow me," Donna said firmly.
They entered the living room and Donna made a grand gesture of taking the cap off the black marker on the table and handing it to Josh and explaining to him very slowly and patronizingly that Leo was here to speak with him. She asked whether he was up to the task and scolded him with a stern tone, adorned with a wagging finger, when he attempted to answer her orally.
"What the hell is going on?" Leo asked looking confused.
"Josh had a procedure this morning to remove his tonsils," Donna said in a pleased and sickly sweet voice as she pat him on the shoulder. "I guess he forgot to mention that. He can't actually speak right now."
"I can speak," he said quietly and painfully then got his ear promptly flicked by Donna as punishment.
"Write it down," she commanded. "No more talking, Josh. It'll only take longer to heal if you don't obey doctor's orders. Leo, he can write his answers down if you have questions. I'll be in the other room if anyone needs me."
Leo looked at him and shook his head.
"Writing?" Leo asked.
"He left the power cord for his lap top on his desk and killed the battery last night," Donna said proudly. "He wouldn't let me call Marcy to have her drop the cord off because then she'd know I wasn't the one who was sick. So… the pen it is."
She smiled triumphantly then left the room.
"Tonsils?" Leo asked as he sat down and shook his head. "What are you, 12?"
"I had them out when…," Josh began.
"I CAN HEAR YOU," Donna called from the kitchen. "Use the pen, Josh."
Josh shook his head and shrugged at the humility of it all and signaled that this was the second time he'd had the procedure done. This was the reason he did not tell the whole truth when scheduling his day off.
Josh gnashed his teeth momentarily and then scrawled on his legal pad: CAN WE NOT…
"Sure, whatever," Leo said, waving off other writing. "Are you going to be able to take this meeting tomorrow or should we send Sam?"
"I can go," Josh wrote confidently.
"Yeah, but you can't speak," Leo said. "There are times when that would be a real bonus for us, but not tomorrow."
"Why?" Josh questioned.
"Well, generally, when you hold a come to Jesus meeting with the leadership, you have to use your words," Leo pointed out. "I don't think a round of charades is gonna have as much impact."
"I can do it," Josh insisted, underlining the words three times.
"Yeah, I'll send Sam," Leo nodded then cut off any debate. "I'm not going to argue with you and your marker. One, because it's a waste of my time, and two, because it's mostly just ridiculous. How the hell is it that you don't tell me these things?"
Josh shrugged.
"BECAUSE HE'S A BABY AND DIDN'T WANT CJ TO MAKE FUN OF HIM," Donna called helpfully from the next room. Josh began to scrawl on the page furiously. "AND I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE WRITING, JOSH. THAT'S NO WAY TO TALK ABOUT YOUR WIFE."
Josh scribbled out his words, obliterating them petulantly.
"Take tomorrow off," Leo said and cut off any protests from Josh. "You're no good to us if you can't speak. You'll just slow everything down if we have to keep up with your notes. You can sit at home and read the text of the latest immigration proposals. You have to do it anyway. You'll be interrupted less here. You can send me your brief in email so have Donna… never mind. Donna?"
"Yes," she answered sweetly.
"Call Marcy, have her bring whatever he needs to work here," Leo said. "Tell her she has my permission to make fun of him and tell whoever she wants at the office about it."
"Consider it done," Donna answered.
Josh groaned and looked at Leo feeling wounded and betrayed.
"Get over it," Leo growled then added to the man's displeasure by giving him more information. "Oh, by the way, the President put your name back on the list for the dinner."
"What dinner?" Josh wrote.
"He's speaking at the thing about the Fulbright Scholarships," Leo recalled. "They're honoring a couple dozen former winners, and you were on the list."
"Lucky me," Josh wrote and rolled his eyes. "I'm not going."
"You are now," Leo said. "Marcy said you never RSVP'ed, but the organizers called and Debbie told the President about it. He's giving the keynote speech, and he'd be gratified by your attendance."
"He's punishing me for something?" Josh ventured.
"Probably, but he's hard to read sometimes," Leo replied. "The dinner is Sunday night. Debbie has the details. She's calling Donna today about it."
"This is a conspiracy," Josh wrote.
"With Debbie, anything's possible," Leo nodded. "The dinner is a formal event so you get the fun of dressing up like a maitre'de and spending your evening with Washington society."
"Why me?" Josh scribbled.
"You're a respected member of the President's staff who was honored by this award previously," Leo said.
"And?" he scrawled.
"And you were dumb enough to think you could keep your kiddy little illness a secret from me so maybe this is punishment," Leo shrugged. "Besides, the Post is going to be springing a series on the immigration debate starting next week and one piece is comparing U.S. impact around the world with immigrants' contributions to the U.S. The Fulbright Scholarship is half of the story. You're at a table with Danny Concannon. Since you can't speak, I feel a lot better about having you so close to the Post, but the irony is I need you to talk to him all the same."
"You're enjoying this," Josh wrote spying Leo's grin.
"Josh," Leo sighed with a smirk. "Of course I'm enjoying this. You had to expect that, kid."
The Hotel Swiss
Grand Ball Room
Sunday, 8 p.m.
The room hummed with hundreds of conversations. Donna sat at the table, soaking in the atmosphere and graciously exhaling all the claustrophobia she felt in her veins from her newly imposed exile from the world. She knew Josh did not like these sorts of affairs and likely should have been home resting. However, his doctors said there was no reason he could not resume his normal activities (other than shouting) immediately. His voice was sounding less hoarse and he looked better than he had in weeks. So Donna felt no guilt in her clandestine phone call to the President's executive secretary days earlier to seek her help in strong arming Josh to this event.
Donna felt it appropriate that he attend for two reasons: First, he was on the list. There was great honor in having been a Fulbright Scholar. Josh's mother had spoken about his year abroad to Donna on several occasions. She promised to bring her the letters he had written home to Donna so she could read for herself what his impressions had been living in Tel Aviv during that time. Her next reason was closer to her own needs. She wanted to go out and the only way she could get that to happen was to have someone with the power to order Josh.
He had grumbled about going and made it a point to sulk in the car, though he contended he was not sulking so much as thinking about other things. He also vowed the very second she appeared tired or like she needed to rest, he was going to get their coats and they would leave. Donna had anticipated this and as such as made sure to take a nap during the afternoon. She was enjoying Josh's dismay at how perky and alert she felt that evening.
However, rather than risk being caught fighting off the slights hint of a yawn, she took steps to be rid of him for a few moments. During his absence, she was joined by the First Lady who had been working the room in her typical fashion.
"Donna," Abigail Bartlet said taking a seat beside her. "No, don't stand. I remember how much effort that takes. Do you mind if I join you for a few moments?"
"Not at all, Mrs. Bartlet," Donna replied. "You look lovely."
"Its not hard when someone else picks out your clothing," she said. "I haven't seen you in weeks, since the Congressional Christmas Party, I think. You look wonderful but tired. Are you sleeping enough?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Donna replied. "And, I don't mean to be rude, but I would appreciate it if you kept you voice down with that observation. The last thing I need is for Josh to hear you and take it as a medical opinion that I need to go home right now. He's very… Oh, I'm not going to be diplomatic: He's driving me nuts. I understand he is just showing his concern, but there are moments when I want to hit in the head with something heavy."
The First Lady laughed and shook her head.
"Would you rather he ignore you?" she asked after her mirth passed. "I figured he would take one track or the other during your pregnancy. The nonchalant cool politician role or the overly protective spouse routine. Trust me: This is better, even if you want to kill him."
"I suppose," Donna sighed. "But since I was put in limited duties, it's only gotten worse. He doesn't think I should get up during the day and get the mail. As if carrying a dozen envelopes and a few small catalogs from the front of the house into the kitchen is going to hurt me. Considering the things he used to ask of me when I worked for him directly… I recall working until 2 a.m. and being told to be back at 5 am as if that was a huge favor for which I should be thankful."
"You weren't his wife or carrying his children then," Abigail noted.
"Some days I think I was better off," Donna smirked. "It's very stressful to be told to relax. I feel useless."
"Nonsense," the First Lady replied. "You're just anxious and feeling a little trapped inside your body. That's normal. My advice is to have fun with it."
"Fun, Ma'am?"
"Order Josh around like he's your servant," Abigail suggested with the hints of an evil grin. "He'll either do what you command and that will be a delight I'm sure or he'll become more reasonable. Either way, you're the one in charge."
"I hadn't thought of that," Donna nodded liking the idea. "Thank you, Ma'am. Did you do that to the President when you were expecting?"
"With Liz he was too nervous so I didn't have the heart to toy with him," she explained. "But with Ellie he developed more confidence so I started making some rules. By the time we were expecting Zoey, he thought he had the process down. You'd think he was planning on delivering the baby himself. In fact, if you ask him, to this day he will claim that he had read enough on midwifery that he was confident he was up to the task."
"Was he?"
"I had to drive myself to the hospital for Zoey," Abigail said. "I called him and told him it was time, and he drove past our house and to the hospital, forgetting to pick me up on the way."
Donna covered her mouth to hide her smirk.
"But that's just between us," Abigail said slyly.
"Of course, Ma'am," Donna agreed. "I don't think Josh would forget me, but I think there's a fairly good chance that he might faint or forget how to drive entirely when the time comes."
"Where is he, by the way?" Abigail asked. "I expected to find him hovering or plotting some strategy to leave early."
"I bribed Danny Concannon into distracting him for another hour," Donna said with a suggestion of guilt in her voice. She then pointed across the room where the two men were locked in conversation. "They're over there debating a topic very near and dear to Josh's heart."
"Not the immigration bill?" Abigail asked dejectedly.
"No, something much more important to Josh," Donna explained. "The Mets' bullpen for this coming season. Danny promised to keep Josh occupied long enough for me to get up and stretch my legs for a few minutes without him either ushering me out of the building or corralling me to sit down."
"Oh, was I interrupting your walk?" Abigail asked.
"No, "Donna sighed. "After they left, I decided the effort it would take to get up just didn't seem to be worth it."
"Maybe Josh is right," the First Lady said with a touch of concern. "Perhaps you should be heading home. Tired is par for the course with pregnancy, but there's no need to be a hero."
"I'm fine, Ma'am," Donna assured her. "I just didn't sleep well last night—don't tell Josh. His medication knocked him out entirely so he didn't notice."
"Are you feeling all right?" Abigail asked with concern. "That's a doctor talking, by the way."
"I'm fine," Donna said. "There's just too much movement going on for me to get comfortable some nights. I think one of them is trying to teach the other Greco-Roman wrestling. I'm beginning to doubt I'll make it to the end of April before they decide to greet the world."
"Twins usually don't go full term," she said. "I wouldn't be surprised if you are introducing us to your new family by the time we ring the bell to start the Cherry Blossom festival."
Deputy Chief of Staff's Office
Tuesday, 11:16 a.m.
Marcy hurriedly pulled files out of Josh's backpack. She was feeling manic. The folder she needed had been on her desk the previous evening. She had his notes prepped and ready and then…
"You son of a… why do you touch things?" she growled.
"How else am I to bring out this sunny side of your personality?" Josh quipped as he entered his office from the Operations Bullpen. "What are you looking for?"
"Daryl Wright's proposal," she huffed.
"That's Congressman Wright," he corrected her. "And it's in the green folder."
"None of these are green," she pointed out, holding the bag open. "I had it yesterday afternoon and I put it on the corner of my desk and then…"
"I took it home to make some notes," he said.
"Why?"
"Because it's mine and I… I don't have to explain that to you," he said. "What is the problem?"
"You don't have it," she said. "You have a meeting in 45 minute with the leadership and you don't have the proposal they are going to discuss. I think Sam has a copy and…"
"Don't bother," he said, lifting the phone and dialing. "I think I know where it is."
He waited for several seconds but was rewarded only with a busy signal. He hung up and tired another number. This one rang four times then when to voice mail. He shook his head.
"Teaching me a lesson," he said softly. "Fine."
"Well?" Marcy asked aggressively. "Do I get Sam to help or not?"
"Not," Josh said confidently as he grabbed his coat. "It's on my kitchen table. I must have left it there this morning. I've got time to run home then get back to the Hill for the meeting."
"Do you want me to call the Minority Leader's office and tell her that you're running late?"
Josh shook his head as he grabbed his bag.
"The meetings not for another hour," he said. "I'll be home and back in under 40."
"Maybe you should just get Sam's copy," Marcy suggested as she fell in step behind him. "That'll be quicker and easier and…"
"And it won't have my notes on it," Josh informed her. "I worked on this until 2 this morning. Trust me, I need mine. Sam's meeting with a few Republican swing votes right now and I don't want to bother him."
"Are they going to help us?" Marcy asked. Her curiosity about the work happening around her grew daily though she wasn't sure why as she detested politicians.
"No," Josh said confidently. "Frankly, I'm suspicious of the meeting. I don't know why they agreed. We asked as a perfunctory matter. We never really expected them to accept. I'd rather Sam give them his full attention so he can figure out what they're up to. See that no one disturbs him."
"Anything else?" she asked as he reached the doors to the northwest lobby.
"Use whatever voodoo method you have of reaching Donna and tell her point taken," Josh said.
"Meaning?" Marcy asked puzzled.
"She's ignoring my calls because she can," Josh said. "It's her form of rebellion against her doctor's orders for bed rest."
"Why is she punishing you?" Marcy asked. "Other than you're the reason she's in this condition."
"I think it's more because I was right that she should listen to her doctor," Josh smirked. "She wasn't feeling great this morning when I called, and she blamed her headache on me. I take it as a victory that she's taken the house phone off the hook and ignoring my calls to her cell phone. Tell her she can reconnect the house to the telecommunications world; I'll be too busy for the rest of the day to check in on her hourly."
Lyman House
11:38 a.m.
Josh arrived home later than he expected due to more traffic than anticipated. However, he was confident he could make it back to the Hill in time so long as he didn't end up in a protacted discussion with Donna about her work schedule or her current feeling of uselessness given the restrictions placed on her by her doctor.
"I notice you didn't venture out and get the mail today," Josh said loudly as he entered the house. "Does this mean you're finally listening to me?"
He had entered through the front door, something he realized he'd never done until that moment. He dropped the mail on the end table beside the couch. He took a stricter view of the term bed rest than Donna did. She claimed her doctor told her she was not confided to her bed at this point so much as she was under orders to take things easier.
Donna remained firm that she was allowed to get up during the day and go down stairs to work—something she did from Josh's office on the first floor—and walk to the kitchen to get herself food. Josh disagreed and believed it meant she was to stay in bed and not do anything for herself. She showed her defiance by leaving her lunch dishes on the counter for him to see when he got home in the evenings and by retrieving the mail each morning and sending him email to let him know what arrived. She was dragging Josh to her doctor's appointment that coming Friday for two reasons: One, she wanted to see how squeamish he got when they did the latest ultrasound (she was convinced that even that noninvasive procedure would make him get queasy); and two, so that he could hear from the doctor herself that Donna's interpretation of the doctor's orders was correct.
"Fine, you don't have to say I'm right, but for the record, we both know it now," he continued as he walked through the living room on his way to the office down. "I'm taking your lack of argument as agreement. Speaking of agreement, did I leave my… Donna!"
She lay on the floor in the hall, her hand on the phone receiver and her eyes closed. There was a small amount of blood on her chin and she was motionless.
"Donna, can you hear me?" Josh shouted as he ran to her and tried to rouse her. "Donna!"
Up next: Chapter 22, When the Bough Breaks