****************
"The Moss residence. How may I help you?" I hear Eve
say formally into the telephone. Abi, Mother, and I
listen closely while pretending not to.
"I'm sorry, who?" She sounds surprised.
After a pause she says, "Oh, you must mean Donnatella.
Yes, she's here. May I ask who's calling?" Huh? I
didn't give anyone my number here.
"Oh. Really." Her voice is so cold I can see my breath
in the air. "Well, she can't come to the phone right
now."
I jump up and run into the kitchen. "Thank you for
screening my calls, Eve, but I think I can handle it
from here." I practically wrestle the phone from her
grip and speak into the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Donna. Thank God. I thought you were dead."
"Josh!" I say happily, not realizing my mistake until
I hear my mother come up behind me. I don't so much
hear her as feel the waves of disapproval flowing from
her small frame. Shit. This is not going to be good.
"Umm...this really isn't a good time."
"NOT A GOOD TIME? I've sent you twenty e-mails in the
past five days! Do you have any idea how many that is
a day?"
"Um, four?"
"Where the hell have you been?"
"Here. My computer was confiscated."
"Confiscated? Are you in prison?"
"It only seems that way." I turn to my mother. "Could
I have a few minutes, please?"
"You're dating a politician," she accuses.
"Yes," I lie, desperately wanting to speak to Josh
alone before my mother seizes the telephone.
"Why?"
"I'm in love with him," I answer without thought. She
gives me a strange look and walks back into the living
room, shutting the kitchen door behind her. What just
happened?
"Josh? You still there?"
"Yeah. Yeah." He suddenly sounds unusually quiet and
distracted. Must be the long distance connection.
"How'd you get this number?"
"Oh, I looked in your FBI file." WHAT?
"I have a *FBI* file?"
"Yeah. Nothing very incriminating, though. I forgot I
even had it."
"Why do you have my FBI file?" Why isn't he gloating
over this?
"Actually, Leo had it. He gave it to me so I wouldn't
call in the National Guard to find you."
I smile at that. "You wanted to call in the National
Guard?"
"I would have settled for the FBI. You really didn't
get any of my e-mails?
"No, I got caught hiding in the closet while I was
yelling at you about your drunkenness."
"Were you actually yelling aloud?"
"Yeah, that might have been what gave me away."
"Stealth was never a big thing for you." Now he sounds
a bit better, but there's still something strange in
his voice.
"Are you okay? You sound weird."
"No, no. I'm fine. How's the family?"
"At this point I wish I really had an Uncle Vito."
I can almost see him nod in understanding. "Who
answered the phone?"
"My sister Godelieve."
"Godelieve?"
"Yup."
"That's just frightening."
"Tell me about it." I pause, wondering if I should
tell him about my little Freudian slip earlier. "I
have a confession to make."
"Yeah?" How am I supposed to tell him this?
"My parents are republican." Damn. I chickened out.
"WHAT? WHAT?"
"See, and I was afraid you make a big deal out of
this."
"How-you...how could you-" he continues to stutter
while I talk over him.
"Actually, only my father's republican. My mother
hates all politicians."
Suddenly his sputters of indignation cease. "Oh."
"What is with you?"
"Nothing. I just need to go back to work."
"Just two more days and then you can resume your role
of slave driver."
"Yeah. When do you get back?" He's really creeping me
out with this quiet thing.
"Tomorrow night."
"Do you have a ride?"
"Huh?"
"Do you have a ride back from the airport?"
"No. I was just going to take a taxi. Why?"
"I was just wondering if someone was...you
know...taking care of..." I don't think I have ever
heard Joshua Lyman being uncomfortable.
"Are you offering to pick me up?"
"Do you want me to?"
"Josh-"
"Yes, I'm offering to pick you up."
"That would be wonderful. Flight 345 on TWA. Okay?"
"Yeah. Great. See you then." And with that he hangs
up.
See what happens? I come back to this house for one
damn week and the insanity spreads to the rest of my
life like a damn disease.
ARGH!
"The Moss residence. How may I help you?" I hear Eve
say formally into the telephone. Abi, Mother, and I
listen closely while pretending not to.
"I'm sorry, who?" She sounds surprised.
After a pause she says, "Oh, you must mean Donnatella.
Yes, she's here. May I ask who's calling?" Huh? I
didn't give anyone my number here.
"Oh. Really." Her voice is so cold I can see my breath
in the air. "Well, she can't come to the phone right
now."
I jump up and run into the kitchen. "Thank you for
screening my calls, Eve, but I think I can handle it
from here." I practically wrestle the phone from her
grip and speak into the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Donna. Thank God. I thought you were dead."
"Josh!" I say happily, not realizing my mistake until
I hear my mother come up behind me. I don't so much
hear her as feel the waves of disapproval flowing from
her small frame. Shit. This is not going to be good.
"Umm...this really isn't a good time."
"NOT A GOOD TIME? I've sent you twenty e-mails in the
past five days! Do you have any idea how many that is
a day?"
"Um, four?"
"Where the hell have you been?"
"Here. My computer was confiscated."
"Confiscated? Are you in prison?"
"It only seems that way." I turn to my mother. "Could
I have a few minutes, please?"
"You're dating a politician," she accuses.
"Yes," I lie, desperately wanting to speak to Josh
alone before my mother seizes the telephone.
"Why?"
"I'm in love with him," I answer without thought. She
gives me a strange look and walks back into the living
room, shutting the kitchen door behind her. What just
happened?
"Josh? You still there?"
"Yeah. Yeah." He suddenly sounds unusually quiet and
distracted. Must be the long distance connection.
"How'd you get this number?"
"Oh, I looked in your FBI file." WHAT?
"I have a *FBI* file?"
"Yeah. Nothing very incriminating, though. I forgot I
even had it."
"Why do you have my FBI file?" Why isn't he gloating
over this?
"Actually, Leo had it. He gave it to me so I wouldn't
call in the National Guard to find you."
I smile at that. "You wanted to call in the National
Guard?"
"I would have settled for the FBI. You really didn't
get any of my e-mails?
"No, I got caught hiding in the closet while I was
yelling at you about your drunkenness."
"Were you actually yelling aloud?"
"Yeah, that might have been what gave me away."
"Stealth was never a big thing for you." Now he sounds
a bit better, but there's still something strange in
his voice.
"Are you okay? You sound weird."
"No, no. I'm fine. How's the family?"
"At this point I wish I really had an Uncle Vito."
I can almost see him nod in understanding. "Who
answered the phone?"
"My sister Godelieve."
"Godelieve?"
"Yup."
"That's just frightening."
"Tell me about it." I pause, wondering if I should
tell him about my little Freudian slip earlier. "I
have a confession to make."
"Yeah?" How am I supposed to tell him this?
"My parents are republican." Damn. I chickened out.
"WHAT? WHAT?"
"See, and I was afraid you make a big deal out of
this."
"How-you...how could you-" he continues to stutter
while I talk over him.
"Actually, only my father's republican. My mother
hates all politicians."
Suddenly his sputters of indignation cease. "Oh."
"What is with you?"
"Nothing. I just need to go back to work."
"Just two more days and then you can resume your role
of slave driver."
"Yeah. When do you get back?" He's really creeping me
out with this quiet thing.
"Tomorrow night."
"Do you have a ride?"
"Huh?"
"Do you have a ride back from the airport?"
"No. I was just going to take a taxi. Why?"
"I was just wondering if someone was...you
know...taking care of..." I don't think I have ever
heard Joshua Lyman being uncomfortable.
"Are you offering to pick me up?"
"Do you want me to?"
"Josh-"
"Yes, I'm offering to pick you up."
"That would be wonderful. Flight 345 on TWA. Okay?"
"Yeah. Great. See you then." And with that he hangs
up.
See what happens? I come back to this house for one
damn week and the insanity spreads to the rest of my
life like a damn disease.
ARGH!
