The camaraderie in the Bartlet suite has been exhilarating. And Jed seems to be thriving on the slight chaos: the laughter, the storytelling, the smiling. Every once in a while Abbey pauses and looks at him critically, examining whether he's really up for this. Whenever she does my heart stutters and I find myself holding my breath until she gives a slight smile of relief. The truth is, he's in fine form tonight.
But when Governor Tillman's speech is over Abbey only lets it go a couple minutes before she stands up. "Okay everyone, time to clear out. I'm sure you all have things to do and places to be."
Everyone moves pretty quickly, respecting her authority, even Charlie and Zoey. Soon the only ones left are the Presidents, their wives, and Donna and me.
I admit, I'm lingering a bit, because this moment, seeing two Presidents exchanging a private word, is a rare commodity, and I don't want to miss it. But Donna is guiding me toward the door.
In the hallway, we pause for a moment, watching Zoey and Charlie slip into their own room. Waiting on the Santoses is second nature for us, but Donna takes the moment to slip her arms around me and rest her head on my shoulder.
"Tired?" I ask her in a low voice as I hold her.
"Just taking a breath." She assures me with a smile.
It really is only a few minutes before Matt and Helen exit the suite. We fall into place beside them as our entourage makes its way toward our suites..
After a few moments, Matt grins at me. "I think he's going to endorse me." He offers with a smirk.
"Well, that's good." I agree, while Helen and Donna laugh at his joke. Our mood is high. We are at the pinnacle of the campaign. This is the moment when everything comes together. We present a unified front. We show the world who we are, and what our goals are. We remind them of our successes. We promise to be better.
Sure we still have one more night of this. Tomorrow Matt will officially accept the nomination and the balloons will drop. But that just marks the beginning of the rest of the campaign. That's the starting gun for the final push.
Tonight, we get to pause in the moment. But first, we need to check on the children and gather the troops.
I"m not really a bit surprised to find Carly and Donna's parents with Peter in the Santos suite, watching a movie. Donna's Dad is taking his chaperoning duties very seriously. But he is letting them sit on the couch together so I guess he's relaxed a little bit.
"Hey Honey," Helen greets Peter with a quick kiss to his head as she passes by. "Where's your sister?"
"Congresswoman Wyatt stopped by. Huck and Molly wanted her to come watch a movie with them. It's okay right? Linda is with her."
"Yes, of course dear."
Matt smiles at him and Peter visibly relaxes. He just wants to do the right thing.
"Did she say when they'll be done? We've gotta do the thing later."
"She knew. She said she'd have Miranda back here by 9:30."
"Okay. That's great."
"Carly, are you coming down to watch President Bartlet's speech tonight?" Donna inquires gently.
"Yes, I'd like to." Carly looks hopefully between us and her grandparents..
"It's fine with me." Jim declares. "Maybe I'll come down there myself."
Well. That's something I didn't expect. "Okay. Let's just all meet back here at 9:30, alright?"
"Yes, that gives us all time to freshen up." Helen remarks, giving Matt a pointed look.
"That works." Matt announces, before turning back to the kids, then looking at the television screen. "How much longer on your movie?"
"About a half hour." Carly answers.
"It's fine with me if you want to finish it." He informs Donna's parents. "I'm just going to change my shirt."
Jim gives a little chuckle as Matt slips into his bedroom. And Helen and Lottie exchange a little smirk of understanding. And with that small bit of domestic interaction, Donna's parents come to realize that the Santoses are just people.
And I have a glimmer of hope for two more votes.
. . . . .
Donna opens the door to our suite very quietly, in case Lulu's already asleep. But as we walk into the room two faces look up from the book that Mom is reading to her and give us identical smiles.
"Hi, Daddy, Hi!" Lulu greets me exuberantly. She climbs out of Bubbe's laps and runs to us.
"What am I? Chopped liver?" Donna grumbles.
"Hi Mama." Lulu responds as I bend down and pick her up, then pull Donna in for a group hug.
"So, someone's not sleepy?"
"Apparently not." Mom responds a bit tiredly.
"I'm not that surprised." Donna pipes in. "She had a long afternoon nap. I suspected that we'd pay for it tonight."
Mom nods her agreement. Suddenly I'm feeling kind of bad. We thought that with all the grandparents here, we didn't really need Nicole. But Donna's parents have been pretty focused on Carly. Maybe they aren't giving Mom quite enough help? Maybe we're asking too much of a seventy-five year old widow. I know she loves Lulu, but watching an active toddler all day and into the night is a lot. She looks like she's ready for bed herself. I can't really leave her here alone with my wide-awake daughter.
But that gives me an idea.
"What if we take Lulu downstairs with us?"
Donna whips around from where she's pouring herself coffee with a surprised look on her face.
"She's going strong, and Mom looks pretty beat. This is a great chance for Lulu to hear Jed speak. And it sounded like your parents were going to join us. If she gets fussy one of them can bring her back.
Donna looks a Lulu for a long minute, contemplating the wisdom of my suggestion. Finally, she agrees. "I guess we can give it a try. It's not like she's going to remember this, but I think it would make Jed happy to know she was backstage."
"Okay then."
. . . . .
Lulu is still bright eyed as our group settles into our seats backstage to watch on a large monitor. She climbs off my lap and onto Zoey's at some point, and I'm good with that. She's definitely got enough family back here to keep her entertained.
While Senator Reeseman gives Jed's introduction, my mind wanders to how different this feels this year.
The rest of our team is spread throughout the arena, where they can see President Bartlet and the audience. For the 98 and 02 conventions that's where I watched from. They are good seats. You can really feel the excitement of the crowd. And you can learn a lot about what topics seem to really push the delegates' buttons.
In 2006 I couldn't stop moving long enough to watch anything. It's hard to think positively of our vice-president when I think about what he put me through last time. That convention was nothing like anything I'd ever experienced. Brokered. Something that I never hope to experience again.
Sure, it will make a great story for my Memoir, but the stress of it aged me a decade. Watching men that I have very little respect for use every political tool in the box to try to claim the mantle that Jed Bartlet would leave behind, while my guy attempted to stay true to himself, and above the fray.
It didn't sit well with me. Not at all.
I still remember the moment that I thought it had slipped through my fingers. I sat in a dark corridor, early in the morning, barely conscious but racking my brain for any ideas that could change the tide, when Leo found me.
The fact that he was bearing coffee was my first clue. And he was gentle. He assured me that I had done all that I could. I can still hear his "you done good, kid" ringing in my ears. Even now, it fills me with pride.
He didn't ask me to do anything more. He told me the President had to put an end to it. He listened when I told him Matt was his own man.
So he spoke to Matt. He made the arrangements. And then he really learned what I had tried to explain..
Standing backstage with Helen as she smirked at me, I felt the oddest thrill of hope, even as I knew what was supposed to happen. But deep in my soul I knew that Matt Santos should be the President.
And then he spoke and he moved mountains.
He showed the whole convention that the greatest political move is being true to yourself.
I look over at him now, his eyes shining as they are riveted on Jed. He's absorbing every morsel Jed has to offer and deeping his own resolve to do what is right and true.
Lulu climbs back into my lap and puts her head down on my shoulder. I think the day has finally caught up to her. But I'd like her to see just a bit of this for herself. So I stand up and walk over to a break in the curtain.
We catch a glimpse of Jed's profile. "Gampa" Lulu whispers.
"That's right, babydoll."
I rub her back as I sway back and forth. In just a few minutes the rhythms of the movement and the speech knock her out. But I stand there listening in awe.
There's no doubt that Toby wrote this speech. And Jed's delivery is like magic in a bottle, transporting me back to our wonder years when we were fresh faced and our optimism was untarnished.
Sure, I'm older and wiser now, and I can look back and see how many mistakes we made. But I also have the wisdom to know that they are necessary for growth. We are all better people for them. We aren't perfect but we are committed to this country. To the idea that just by trying we can make it better.
Matt, Helen, and Donna join me as Jed leans into the conclusion. "It's not the battles we lose that bother me." He pauses as a hush falls over the crowd. "It's the ones we don't suit up for. This country has unlimited potential. There is a place here for everyone. There is a purpose here for all of us. From the President and his staff, from the party elders to the first time voter, we're a team. We win together, we lose together. We celebrate and we mourn together. And defeats are softened and victories sweeter because we did them together. This is our party. This is our Country. This is our time. Time to rally around Matt Santos, our President."
Matt takes Helen's hand and leads her out onto the stage with Peter and Miranda just behind them. Then Abbey, Zoey and Charlie file out too. Finally, Eric and Dottie Baker and their two college age girls make their way out. There is music flooding the venue as everyone smiles and waves.
Another night in the books.
. . . . .
The last day of the convention still has quite a bit of business to attend to. This is where a lot of the schedules are made. There are heavy negotiations for which events will draw which headliners and which down ticket races will get the most support.
It seems like everyone wants to talk to me today.
I keep reminding them that it's Amy they want. She's the keeper of the keys. She's the Grand Pooh-ba. She's the Campaign Director.
And she's good at it. Really good.
That doesn't stop people from trying to convince me to overrule her. But I hold fast. I see her tactical brilliance. I'm so glad I put her in charge.
. . . . . .
Matt is on a roll. He has the audience completely captivated as he reminds them of what we've done so far. He may not have gone back to Houston and opened more health care clinics but together we've increased Medicaid benefits for millions of Americans. We've got more funding for rural hospitals and clinics, better prenatal care for all women, and reduced the burden of high deductibles for vulnerable families.
And although he hasn't succeeded in extending the school year, he's signed legislation creating an optional free summer program which allows public school students to take AP classes or learn a skilled trade. He's increased funding for IB schools and special education. And he's very close to passing universal preschool.
And that's not even to mention all that Donna and Helen have done to promote nutrition stability all year round to underprivileged kids. Their summer breakfast and lunch programs make a huge difference to a lot of families.
I'm so incredibly proud of our team. Of him.
Still my eyes roll involuntarily when he delivers his signature line. "And if you don't like the job I'm doing, I'll be the first one unemployed."
Bram and Otto groan audibly, drawing my attention and earning a look that I picked up from Leo.
"I swear, he went off script!" Otto insists, "that wasn't in the text."
"I know." I'm not really upset. It's all Matt. He probably did it just to rile me up. But I'm in too good of a mood for it to work.
When Matt's done here, we'll party. First, more of the glad handing that comes with these things. Then some gratitude and encouragement for the staff.
Eventually. it will be just the four of us. When I'll be able to tell Matt what a great job he did. And how I know that he'll accomplish even more and that the American people know him and trust him.
And then, finally, I'll take my wife's hand, say good night to our friends, and we'll have a few moments to ourselves.
Tomorrow we'll sleep in. Our Mothers already have plans to go back to the museum and they aren't at all subtle about how they'd like us to use our time alone.
Not that I need the suggestion. I know exactly what we need right now. A good night's sleep, followed by some enjoyable physical activity, then a nice brunch.
Then it's back to the campaign trail before making our way home on Air Force One and a full court press until November.
It's not quite over yet, but I know without a doubt this is the best convention I've ever attended.
It's not like my first, as Brennan's aide, with hardly anything to do but soak in the atmosphere. It's not like the Bartlet years where we were conquering heroes about to change the world. It's not like the brokered convention where I didn't sleep and didn't eat and gave every bit of myself to the cause.
I'm sure it's partially just the paces of this one. And of course, having Donna and Lulu here makes a huge difference in my level of enjoyment.
But more it's than that, I finally feel like I don't have anything to prove. I'm not, as Leo would say, a young terrier nipping at the heels of the party. I'm an elder statesman. I don't know exactly how that happened especially since I'm not even 50 yet. But I have paid my dues.
Now we just have to go out and win this thing.