Disclaimer: What's the saying? Wish in one hand and shi-oh never mind. It
goes without saying really that this is an amateur work of fiction, and no
copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Whew. This is going to be a doozy. I will be touching on some
extremely sensitive subjects in this story, specifically, abortion. As this
is an issue I know most folks feel very strongly about, I am attempting to
present both sides without leaning one way or the other.
I've done a little research on the 'net and am going to include the
pertinent links. The Feminists for Life page is
Access to Clinic Entrances Act, check out
Summary: Series of first person POV, relating to a traumatic instance in
CJ's life.
Rating: Right now about PG-13.
Feedback: Rocks! Fauquita@hotmail.com
Spoilers: None specifically, but everything is fair game.
Thanks: To my snoogens, Lizisita and Sidalicious…snootchie bootchie!
Part VI
Some days she comes in to the office humming the last song she heard on the radio before parking her car in the garage and smiling at everyone she passes.
Some days she comes in to the office with onion bagels, which she knows are my favorite, and two tall coffees-- Jamaican Mountain Blend thank you very much-- and we stand in front of my desk, chatting about mundane things.
Some days she comes in to the office like a whirlwind, removing her coat, asking for messages, and reading the latest memos stashed in her 'in-box' all at the same time.
Some days she comes in to the office still smarting from the reprimand or briefing faux pas from the previous day, looking for all the world like a child whose favorite pet has just died.
And some days, actually most days now, she comes in to the office two hours before I do, trying to stay ahead of the game.
I have learned to anticipate just how our day (yes our day) will progress by the way she comes in to the office each morning. Donna, Ginger, Bonnie, Margaret, and Cathy all think I am the luckiest of the assistants because I work for CJ. Oh, it's not that they don't respect and admire Josh, Toby, Leo, and Sam, but they somehow think it is easier working for a woman, and not just any woman, mind you.
But they don't know how many times I've stood on the other side of the door while CJ sheds tears she'll never admit to. They don't know that she watches all of her press briefings after everyone has gone home, criticizing herself for saying too much, or not enough. They don't know how lonely she really is.
She and I have our secrets, and this is why we work so well together.
CJ is the only person in the world who knows about Bill. She is the only one who knows about the bruises, the broken wrist, and fractured ribs. She is the only one who knows about the hospital visits and the restraining order. She is the only one who knows about the miscarriage.
We've never talked about that night I called her at 1 a.m. from the emergency room in Norfolk. I remember how scared she sounded on the phone when I told her where I was, and I remember the relief on her face when she saw I was still in one piece; although that relief was quickly replaced with anger when she realized what had happened.
I'd promised her that I would never see him again back in Montgomery, but we got to Norfolk, and he had called, and I'd fallen for his lines again. Everything had been perfect…the dinner, the dancing, the car ride back to his place. But after I refused to leave the campaign…
Well, let's just say he wasn't too happy. I'll never know how I managed to drive myself to the hospital while I was losing a baby, my baby, but I knew there was no one else to call.
And she came, God bless her. And she never looked at me in disapproval, never asked me why I stayed with a man who gave me more concussions than flowers. She simply held me while I cried, and then later she talked to Bill.
I don't know what she said to him, but whatever it was, it must have put the fear of God in him, because he hasn't bothered me since. She put me on a plane to my mother's house in San Jose and told everyone that she'd given me some personal time. And when I came back three weeks later, I still had a job.
And I am the only person in the world who knows about Jacob. I am the only one who knows about the songs he wrote for her, the flowers he sent her every day he was away on business, and the elegant ring he bought for her the night he proposed. I am the only one who knows about the car accident and the coma. I am the only one who knows he died three minutes after he was unhooked from the machines.
She blames herself for his death; thinks that if she had said 'yes' instead of 'not now, maybe not ever', he wouldn't have left their apartment so upset; thinks he would have paid more attention to the traffic around him; thinks he would have seen the truck running the red light.
I'd tried telling her the night we raided the mini-bar in her hotel room two weeks after I returned from San Jose that none of it had been her fault. But she'd only smiled in that sad ways of hers and I knew she hadn't believed me. She didn't have to tell me that no one else knew about Jacob…she'd cried so long, and hard, that night and I knew instinctively that it was the first time she had told anyone.
We were so much closer after that night. Maybe it was the vodka, gin and tequila talking, or maybe she felt she owed me a secret after knowing mine. But I like to think that she trusted me above all the others on the campaign, and that was her way of showing it.
All right, Carol, you have gone so far off track that it's a wonder if you remember what point you were trying to make in the first place.
Oh yeah. I'm standing in CJ's doorway, and her head is resting on her folded arms upon the desk. This isn't something out of the ordinary, mind you. I'm used to walking in on CJ asleep at her desk, wearing the same suit as the previous day. But she's always been alone.
Well, not this time. Both Sam and Josh are camped out on her couch, looking entirely too comfortable in my opinion. They're both sleeping soundly, if their snoring is any indication, and I wonder for a moment how in the hell CJ is managing to get any shut-eye through their duet. I swear the pictures on the wall are shaking.
And then I realize that she's not sleeping, that she is fact staring at me now from her position, and she cracks a smile as I motion to the two morons…I mean, men, on the couch. She finally lifts her head and I see the dark circles under her eyes, but she looks peaceful, happy even and I wonder what has changed her mood so drastically.
"What are you doing here so early?" she whispers as she stands up and ushers me out of the office, closing the door quietly behind her.
"I thought that…well, after yesterday I thought you might need me to come in a little early."
CJ grins at me and touches my arm briefly. "Carol, it's four o'clock in the morning."
"Well, I was worried…and I was right because I knew you'd still be here."
Her smile fades and she lowers her head for a moment. "Look Carol, it's going to be busy around here today…and I don't mean regular busy. I mean…Sam-and-a-call-girl busy."
"Is there something going on I should know about?"
She waits a beat before meeting my gaze and nodding her head. "Yes…why don't you and I go see what we can scrounge up in the mess? I'm going to have to wake up the sleeping beauties in a minute, and I don't think I can do so without caffeine of some sort. You and I will talk on the way."
Despite the lightness in her tone, I sense the underlying anxiety and urgency. "Of course," I respond as I let her lead me down the empty corridors of the White House.
+++++++++++
There were times during the campaign when the four of us—Toby, Josh, CJ and I—would break down and rent a car because we were tired of riding across the country in the cramped passenger bus. We didn't do it often, and it wasn't because we couldn't afford it-- which was true believe me-- but it had more to do with the fact that we could never agree on a model.
CJ always wanted a convertible because she wanted to travel with the sun on her back and the wind in her hair. Josh always wanted a tiny sports car so that he could impress people. I always wanted an SUV, because let's face it, they're so much fun to drive. And Toby…well, Toby always wanted the cheapest car they had…it didn't matter that the radio didn't work and the air conditioner was broken.
So, we would inevitably stand in front of the Enterprise counter haggling over various points. CJ would eventually capitulate and agree to anything that had a c.d. player, Josh would admit that a Mazda Miata wasn't exactly the most ideal car to travel in with three other people, and I could be talked down from the Ford Explorer just to stop Toby from yelling.
I remember vividly the last time we rented a car together. We ended up settling on a four-door Saturn with cigarette burns on the seats. It didn't matter that the right side passenger door didn't open from the inside, or that the dashboard rattled because it was loose. CJ was happy singing along to the Jim Croce c.d. she'd brought along; Toby was happy not having to talk about Governor Bartlet and his flair for inserting lame jokes into his speeches; Josh was happy singing along with CJ to 'Bad, Bad Leroy Brown'; I was happy stretched out in the back because I didn't have to drive.
It was really late by the time we stopped at an all-night diner in Tucson, and everyone was feeling a little punch-drunk. Toby, CJ, and Josh piled out of the car and I waited for CJ to open the door for me, as she'd been doing for the length of the trip. I thought they were joking at first as they walked away from the car without letting me out, but when CJ hit the control on the key chain, locking the door, I began to panic.
I started banging on the window and yelling at the top of my lungs. Didn't they notice I wasn't yammering on about the monsoons in Tucson this time of year, the highway we should take to get to Phoenix, or how visible the stars were in the Arizona sky? CJ had suddenly turned around and ran back towards the car.
She unlocked the door for me and took me in her arms as soon as I was standing. She apologized profusely while Josh and Toby laughed. She had felt so guilty after that she even allowed me to put my Enya c.d. in for part of the ride. I tried getting her to allow a little John Tesh, but she didn't feel that bad about the incident.
Anyway, I just remember for those few seconds in the car how alone I felt. Like I was missing something. And that's how I feel right about now because I'm all alone in CJ's office. I squint my eyes, because I left my glasses somewhere else, and wince at the same time. I might as well get up and start the day because I know I won't be able to get back to sleep anyway.
I start to sit up just as CJ walks back into the office carrying two steaming mugs of what I hope to God is coffee. She smiles at me, but raises an eyebrow questioningly.
"Where's your partner in crime?"
"I don't know…I just woke up and he was gone."
"Story of my life," CJ jokes as she hands me the white ceramic cup.
"How long have you been awake?" I ask, although I'm pretty sure I know the answer already.
"I didn't go to sleep."
"Mmmm…don't take this the wrong way or anything CJ, but are you going to go home and change? When Josh or Toby wear the same suit two days in a row, nobody notices, but you…?"
She chuckles slightly as she sits beside me on the couch. "I already sent Carol back to my place to pick up a few things for me."
"Carol's already here? You really ought to look into giving that woman a raise or something."
"Yes, well, the thought had crossed my mind on one or two occasions."
"So…I guess you uh, told her?"
CJ closes her eyes briefly before she looks at me. "Yeah."
"And how did she take it?"
"Let's just say that if everyone out there reacts to it as well as she did, I'm going to be all right. But there's two chances of that…slim and none."
I put my hand on her knee reassuringly because I sense her need for physical contact. She places her hand over mine and leans her head on my shoulder. I catch the faint whiff of something fruity, or maybe it's flowery, and I try to inhale more deeply without making myself conspicuous because, quite frankly, she smells good and I never noticed before.
"Seriously guys, this is the second time in as many days. Is there something going on here that I should know about?"
CJ doesn't even bother to raise her head from my shoulder; she just smiles and beckons Josh to the other side of her with her free hand. He rolls his eyes, but complies with her unspoken demand until her arm is looped through his. Josh sighs contentedly and eyes my cup of coffee enviously.
"What, none for me?"
CJ catches his meaning and nods towards the desk. "I brought you some too, but you weren't here when I got back."
I can see Josh debating whether or not to get up, and he finally settles on staying where he is. Hell, I'm not too inclined to move either, but Josh is shooting me dirty looks over CJ's head. I know he wants some time alone with her, but I'm not sure leaving the two of them in a room by themselves would be the wisest thing.
But, when have I ever done the wisest thing?
I extricate myself as gently as possible from CJ and apologize. "Sorry guys, I've got some things waiting for me in my office. I might as well get a head start on them before…" I trail off because I was going to say 'before the shit hits the fan', but then I realize that Josh would kick my ass.
CJ is almost asleep on her feet; well she would be if she were standing, but since she's sitting…well, what in the hell is the expression for someone who's sitting? Have they ever come up with one? Whoa Sammy boy…way off track. Anyway, my point is that I don't even think she realizes I'm speaking to her.
Josh narrows his eyes at me for a moment, and then smiles his gratitude as I close the door gently behind me. The hallways are still empty, so I make my way back to my office without running into a single person.
The light in Toby's office is still on, and I find him stretched out on his couch with his arm thrown over his head, obscuring his eyes. I want to talk to him, to see if he's all right, but I have the feeling he wouldn't talk to me even if he was awake. And I definitely don't want to end up looking like Josh. I didn't think Toby had it in him quite honestly.
So here I am, standing in my office with a million things awaiting my attention, but the motivation to do none of it. What I really want to do is march back into CJ's office and make sure she's prepared for the vultures…I mean the press. She knows how to handle them of course, has been doing so for almost two years now, but this is going to be harder than lying to them about a rescue mission in Columbia, or dumping a story she wants out there in the Friday trash. No, this is so much more personal, and I wonder for a moment if this will be too much.
++++++
Her shoe size is eleven; she picks the olives out of her martinis because she doesn't like them; owns every single Kevin Smith flick from 'Clerks' to 'Dogma'; refuses to admit that she really can cook.
I know that she can't drink Corona because it reminds her of a booze cruise she took one Spring Break in Mexico. I know that she waxes, not shaves, her legs. I know she calls her father once a week. I know that she visits her eldest brother's grave once a year.
She loves big hoop earrings, but refrains from wearing them because it doesn't fit her professional persona. She has an extensive nail polish collection, but half of the bottles are unopened. She keeps a stash of Tootsie-Pops hidden in one of the cabinets in her kitchen.
Toby loves her caustic wit. Sam loves her maternal coddling. Leo loves her grace under fire. President Bartlet loves her incredible intelligence. And I just love her, for all that she is, and all that she's not.
I reach my hand out tentatively to push her hair away from the smooth contour of her cheek. She smiles at me and squeezes my hand as I pull it away. "Is everything taken care of?" She knows what I'm talking about of course, and so she just nods her head. "Good then…why don't you try and get some sleep?
"When did you become such a mother hen?" she asks as she leans away a little so that she can look me in the eye.
"What, is there only room for one around here?"
"Are you trying to imply that I am a mother hen?"
"Imply…no. I'm flat out telling you."
She pinches me in the side and I jump away from her a little. She throws back her head to laugh, and I am once again struck silent by the elegant lines of her neck and jaw. I reach out to lightly trace her skin, and she pulls back as if she's been burned.
"Joshua, what are you doing?" I detect the note of panic in her voice and the confusion in her eyes.
What in the hell was I thinking? Nothing, that's what. I wasn't thinking anything at all, except how soft her lips look, and for one moment I will never be able to completely forgive myself for, I thought about stealing a kiss. It didn't matter that she doesn't have any feelings of that nature for me, it didn't matter that Bartlet told me to give her space, and it sure as hell didn't matter that she's extremely vulnerable right now.
"I'm…I'm sorry—"
The door to her office opens quietly and Sam enters, looking between the two of us suspiciously. He mumbles something about forgetting his coffee, and looks like he's about to leave, but then thinks better of it.
"Josh, can I talk to you in my office for a minute? I have a thing I need your opinion on."
To anyone else, his tone seems benign, but I know I'm in trouble because he keeps clenching his jaw. He looks at CJ in apology, and she smiles her forgiveness, and I'm sure just a little relief. I get up from the couch, missing the warmth of her body immediately, and follow Sam out into the hallway and then his office.
He is holding his body stiffly and cocks his head to the side once I shut the door behind me. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?"
"You want to be a little clearer with me, buddy? My psychic powers only work in the afternoon."
He stalks toward me, and it takes all I have not to throw my hands up in self-defense. I'm not scared of Sam, but I don't want a black eye to go with my swollen jaw. He stops until his face is only centimeters from mine. His eyes have narrowed into veritable slits, and I immediately go into defensive mode.
"You know damn well what I'm talking about. You were sitting just a little too close to CJ when I walked in…and she looked scared to death of you. Now, I'll ask again, what in the hell do you think you're doing?"
I'll be honest here and admit that I don't think I've ever seen Sam this angry. And why wouldn't he be? I mean, he thinks of CJ as a sister, and I know that if I thought anyone was messing with my sister…well, the end results wouldn't be pretty.
But Sam knows me. He knows I would never do anything to intentionally hurt her. I know he's only trying to protect her, only trying to look out for her best interests, but damn it, I'm offended and now I'm spoiling for a fight.
"I think CJ already has a father, Sam. Maybe you can find some other hard luck case though."
He pulls back as if I have physically struck him, and I'm immediately sorry for the hurt in his eyes. "I swear to God, Josh, if I didn't think CJ had enough problems without worrying about the rest of us, I'd make you regret that comment."
And he would, of that I am certain.
He stares at me for a moment and then shakes his head. "Stay away from her, Josh. If you can't keep your feelings to yourself…" he trails off and then throws his hands in the air. "Damn it, Josh. What are you trying to do to her? Don't you think she's confused enough? You're supposed to be her friend…don't complicate things."
"I didn't mean…I don't want to hurt her, Sam. I was only…hell, I don't know. She just looked so beautiful and I—oh, forget it."
I turn to leave, but Sam's hand is on my shoulder and I turn to face him. "I know you love her. I know you don't mean any harm…and maybe when this all blows over, you can sit down and talk to her. But now isn't the time…and you know it."
"You think this is all going to blow over?" I ask hopefully.
He pauses for a moment as if truly reflecting. "Yes," a beat and then more convincingly. "Hell yeah."
I can't help but smile at him, and I nod my head in agreement. "Yeah."
++++++
This is it. I mean, this is it.
Carol is looking at me sympathetically from the doorway as I tug my suit coat on. She brought me the blue skirt ensemble because she thinks it makes me look softer, less-threatening. I take one final glance in my compact mirror just to make sure that my mascara hasn't smudged, and my lipstick is still visible. Ok…I guess I'm ready to go.
I swear I expect someone to call out 'Dead Woman Walking' at any point now. Most of the staffers have assembled in the hallway, and although they don't know what the hell is going on, they know something is about to happen. Carol is flanking me on my right side and grips my elbow for just a moment in support. I smile at her gratefully and stop just before I reach the press room door.
Leo, Sam, Toby and Josh are congregated in front of it, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, but failing miserably. Oh sure, every now and then my boys have come to wish me well when they know the briefing is about to get nasty, but they have never come together. Not ever…and I must say that I am particularly touched.
"Knock 'em dead, CJ," Sam says with quiet enthusiasm as he hugs me tightly.
"Are you sure you want to do this, kid? We can call the whole thing off…oh hell, I don't know why I'm wasting my breath. Do good in there," Leo whispers as he puts a hand on my shoulder.
Toby just nods at me, but his eyes speak volumes. Josh smiles crookedly and pulls me to him quickly. The embrace is brief and I can feel how tense he is, and in the back of my mind I know that I have to talk to him about what happened in my office a few hours ago. But I'll worry about that later.
I take a deep breath and straighten my skirt. Josh opens the door for me and I walk to the podium, looking far more confident than I feel. I see the curiosity in Katie's eyes, and the apology in Danny's. Arthur and Steve are conversing quietly until my hands grip the side of the lectern, and then I have their full attention.
"Good morning. A story is going to break into wide circulation by the end of the day, and I'd like to take this opportunity to read a statement. I'll answer a few questions afterwards, and then let Simon get back to business."
I pause a moment as several photographers begin to take pictures, and I glance over at Simon, who nods at me encouragingly. I turn back to the press gaggle and take a deep breath before reading the piece of paper in front of me.
"In October of 1996 while working for Emily's List in San Francisco, I entered a Planned Parenthood clinic, which I will refrain from identifying, and had an abortion performed. I deeply regret the pain and embarrassment this incident has caused my family, friends, and this administration. I would like to take the time to clarify a few things."
I glance out at the sea of faces and recognize the shock etched in their features. Katie lowers her gaze almost in embarrassment and Steve places his pen down almost ceremoniously, as if he refuses to even write about the rest of my statement.
"I was six weeks pregnant, and as such, the doctor opted for a surgical abortion," I wince slightly to myself because the procedure itself was humiliating enough, but now I have to recount it to the rest of the world. "My cervix was dilated to seven millimeters, and the surgeon aspirated the products of conception with a syringe. I stayed in the clinic overnight and was released the next day."
My hands are shaking wildly, and I place them at my side behind the podium so that no one can tell. I take another deep breath and read the last part of my statement. "Neither the President, nor any staff members were aware of this information until yesterday afternoon. I will not be doing any interviews about this subject, so the next ten minutes is all you have to ask your questions. I'll open the floor now."
The room explodes in a flurry of hands and shouts. The questions come at me fast and hard, but I've been trained for this. I've become good at separating the questions from the reporter. But this is too close to home…this wasn't in the job description.
"CJ, as a devout Catholic, how does the President feel about his Press Secretary having had an abortion?"
He doesn't judge people, you self-righteous son of a bitch. No, I can't say that. "The White House does not comment on the personal lives of staff members."
"CJ, what about the father?"
"The father and I were no longer together by the time I found out I was pregnant. I am not giving any details as to his identity."
"Is he a politician?"
"I just said that I wasn't giving out any details on the father, let's move on."
"Has President Bartlet asked for your resignation?"
"How many times do I have to tell you? The White House does not comment on—"
"But you're not speaking as the White House right now, CJ. Has President Bartlet asked for your resignation?"
I refrain from making any number of smart-assed comments because I know it won't help the situation. But I don't bother keeping the sarcasm out of my voice as I answer. "You're not taking me there, Mike. Get over it."
"How did the story become public?"
"Some photos were obtained by a pro-life group. We don't know who the photographer was at this time, and know even less about the motives of the aforementioned group."
"You won't tell us whether or not President Bartlet asked for your resignation, CJ, but can you tell us whether or not you will be taking a leave of absence?"
"At this time, it is too early to tell."
"Did the abortion impede your ability to have other children?"
Well now, that was downright personal. Stay calm, CJ, he just wants to write a sidebar I'm sure. "No, and I don't know why that question is even relevant."
"I only ask because you're forty years old, and childless."
I ought to bitch slap him for that one. "Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps my lack of a steady relationship since entering the White House, and indeed the long hours of this particular job, are the reason for this?"
"Do you want children now?"
Hello! Are you even listening to me? "I'm not answering that."
"CJ, can you tell us why you decided on abortion rather than adoption?"
I knew this question was coming, Simon and I even prepped for it, but my mind is drawing a blank and I can't remember what I was supposed to say. Time seems to have stopped as everyone waits expectantly for me to answer, but there is this pounding in my head and I can't concentrate.
I feel like I'm trapped in some cheesy movie, and I wonder if this is what Leo felt like when they grilled him about his alcoholism and drug addiction. I'm supposed to know how to handle this…it's my job for Pete's sake, but all my knowledge and training seem to have deserted me.
Before I know what's happening, Simon storms onto the stage and ushers me into Josh's waiting arms. I'm not aware of how much time has passed, but from the look on Sam's face, I know I must have been frozen up there for a while.
Josh supports my weight as we head towards my office. He lowers me onto the couch and kneels before me. "CJ, are you all right?"
I don't answer him because my throat has constricted, and I am trying so very hard to reign my emotions in. I can't concentrate on anything else right now, or I'll fall apart. My gaze wanders to the Matrix award I received a few months ago and I can't help remember how proud I was. It didn't matter that no one else remembered I was receiving it, and mattered even less that no one remembered to congratulate me when I returned home. I received the award from a group of my peers, and that makes all the difference in the world.
Josh gently grasps my chin in his hand and turns my face so that our eyes meet. "Tell me how I can help you, Claudia Jean."
And even though it breaks my heart to admit it, I shake my head and whisper, "You can't."
+++++++
TBC….