Authors: Enigmatic Ellie and Westwing247
Homepage: http://wing_nuts.tripod.com
Note: Chapter 13 was set aside as a "moment of silence" out of respect for friends and strangers killed or injured in the incidents of September 11, 2001. Thank you to everyone for being so understanding. Due to recent events, storyline The Quest has been slightly altered. We are nothing if not adaptable. All apologies for the delay in bringing this chapter to you. Because of the time it took and the patience of our fan base, we decided to make it double the size of previous chapters. We hope you enjoy the on-going saga.
Donna stood outside the restaurant waiting for Marilyn
to arrive. Marilyn had telephoned to say she was running late, so Donna
enjoyed the light island breeze while gazing at the full moon in the Pacific
sky. She remembered her grandmother's stories at how a full moon
was also called the lover's moon and that somewhere in the world your true
love is staring up at the full moon in the same instant. Donna frowned
and turned her sights toward the menu that was posted at the door.
As she was debating on whether to get the chicken or the fish, she felt a hand on her elbow, coaxing her to turn around.
"Hey Stacey," a male voice said as she turned around. As soon as the gentleman saw that it was not Stacey, he immediately let go.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," he apologized. "I thought you were my friend's wife."
"That's quite all right," Donna replied as she looked into the emerald green eyes of the stranger. "It's the hair. I have a very common hairstyle."
"Let me assure you, I wasn't trying anything," he said. "I don't want your husband or boyfriend to get the wrong idea."
"Oh, I'm not married," Donna said. "And that's not because I have anything against the institution of marriage. I mean, I don't believe in the subjugation of women that is the classic American male's view of marriage, which is not to say that I believe it should be reversed, but the look on your face now is telling me that I've answered your question more fully than you wanted."
"Well, yes, but thank you anyway," the handsome stranger said offering Donna a warm and welcoming grin. "Are you here with anyone?"
"If by that you mean, do I have particular gentleman with whom I am eating, then my answer would be no," Donna replied sporting broad grin of her own.
Chatting with a good looking man in a restaurant and not being bowled over by a litany of his alleged accomplishments and opinions as to why she should forward his resume to the people she worked for was a refreshing change. She was liking Hawaii more and more each minute. She was warming to the idea of the conversation continuing when the cell phone in her purse chirped. With a quick scowl, she snatched the instrument out.
"Is it an emergency?" she asked tersely. After receiving a meek "no," she dispatched the call. "Good, I'm busy. I'll call you later."
Donna's grin returned instantly as she pictured the dumbfounded look on Josh's face thousands of miles away when the dial tone sounded in his ear.
"Where were we?" Donna asked her visitor. "I feel like I've divulged too much information to you already, and I don't even know your name. I'd love to talk to you some more, but my mother taught me not to speak to strangers."
"Well, let's not be strangers then," he smiled. "My name is Cliff Strauss."
"Donna Moss. Pleasure meeting you, Cliff."
"Same here. Are you here for business or pleasure?"
"Business," Donna answered. "I'm here with…"
Before Donna could continue, Marilyn joined the duo.
"I am so sorry about that, Donna," Marilyn said, and then eyed the man standing next to her. "Did you dump me already? I was only five minutes late."
"Oh, no," Donna answered. "It was just a case of mistaken identity. Marilyn, this is Cliff."
"Pleasure," she replied, with a touch of ice in her voice. "Come on, Donna. I'm sure our table's ready."
Donna and Cliff exchanged good-byes and the hostess showed the two women to their table.
"Well, he seemed nice," Donna remarked as she sat down and perused the menu again.
"Uh huh. So do ax murderers at first," Marilyn answered as she watched Cliff walk past them towards his dinner companions. "So, what is it that you wanted to ask me?"
Donna proceeded to tell Marilyn of the idea that came to her earlier. As she was going through the details, the corners of Marilyn's mouth turned upward and eventually into a wide grin.
"I think that can be arranged," Marilyn nodded. "As a matter of fact, I'm heading there on Saturday so, I'll work my magic."
"Oh thank you," Donna smiled. "This is going to be great. Josh is going to love this."
"He'll lose the power of speech," Marilyn said. "Please take a picture and detailed notes. SJ will want evidence."
The waiter arrived and took their orders. The meal was amicable, though Donna kept expecting SJ to arrive to bolster Marilyn's stories. Not that the discussion without the writer wasn't lively. Marilyn's tales of baseball life were a welcomed departure from the mundane and at times dead-boring discussions she was listening to at the conference. The waiter had just cleared their dinner plates when suddenly Marilyn's cell squawked and interrupted the conversation.
"Marilyn Rogers," she answered. "Yes, Brad… Are you serious? We get him for two minor leaguers? Which ones? Hey, hang on a second."
Marilyn covered the mouthpiece and looked at Donna apologetically. "I'm sorry, but this is a trade that I've been waiting for and I have to take this. I really enjoyed dinner. Have a safe flight back and I'll see you later."
Marilyn rose from her seat and returned to her caller as she made her way out of the restaurant.
Donna sat back in her chair and sighed. She hoped that Marilyn would be able to get the item they discussed. She took a sip of coffee and noticed that Cliff was heading in her direction towards the exit as well.
"Donna, I'm sorry again for the misunderstanding," he said. "I never do that sort of thing."
"Really, Cliff," Donna answered. "You don't have to keep apologizing. I tell you what. I'll forgive you if you join me for coffee."
Cliff smiled as he sat down across from Donna. "Oh, waiter..."
*****************
Donna checked her bags with the airline then glanced at her watch. There were still two hours before her flight was to leave the island paradise. She stifled a yawn and shook her head as a scolding for her late night. It was the second such one she had spent in the company of Clifford vonStrauss--the Virginia attorney she met at the hotel. He was a good break from her boring conference. Marilyn had left Hawaii the morning after she and Donna had dinner. Donna was glad for Cliff's company over dinner the next night, even if he was mostly a stranger. He was a good listener, a good speaker and not at all difficult to look at.
However, he was gone now, too. Left alone in the busy airport, Donna was anxious to return to Washington to see what catastrophes--or in Josh's rendition, "minor issues"--had arisen since she departed. She was also eager to deliver the gifts she had purchased for members of the staff. They were small tokens mostly, but she felt so good about getting them. Whenever the staff traveled to far away places with the President, they returned with armloads of gifts given to them. This time, she was the one returning with the bounty.
She was going to miss what little she had seen of the 50th state. It was as beautiful as she had dreamed. The warm air, the lush foliage, and the vibrant colors everywhere. Donna sighed contentedly until her cell shrieked and broke her blissful trance.
"Hello," she answered.
"Come to the office after you land."
Donna scoffed and rolled her eyes. Never a hello. Never a pleasant greeting. No, Josh lacked those basic social skills. She found this surprising, as his mother was one of the most proper and socially engaging women Donna had ever met. How her son ended up being such a lump of coal in that area, she didn't know. The brusqueness had to be his father's influence, Donna thought before responding.
"Why it's so nice to hear from you--again," she replied with feigned sweetness. "It's been nearly... what? Three hours? Oh Joshua, how are you? What's new in your world?"
"You land around 10 tonight," he continued, either oblivious to her comments or ignoring them entirely. "Come here before you go home."
"It's this overwhelming courtesy you show me that I appreciate so much," she chided.
"I sent you to Hawaii," he reminded her. "Anyone else ever do that for you?"
"Oh, it's the Mean Man I'm talking to," she said. "Just for that, I'm not bringing you back a present."
"You've said that to me 100 times in the last three days," he reminded her.
"Would that be because you've called me twice as many times?"
"Stop by before you go anywhere else," he commanded.
"Yes, sir," she said, saluting him though he could not see.
Nor did he hear it as he had hung up before she could say it.
The flights were relatively smooth and other an hour-long than a delay at LAX, quite pleasant. Donna enjoyed flying--and the First Class seat the DNC paid for was heaven. It wasn't Air Force One, she reasoned, but it beat the hell out of the coach seats she could barely afford on her salary.
When she landed at Dulles in Washington, there was another delay as the plane circled the airport for 30 minutes. Donna considered calling Josh as soon as she was at the baggage claim, but decided against it. He might be raging at something and delaying her arrival at the office for a phone call might make it worse. Not that his rages bothered her. She did not understand why other assistants cringed at his outbursts. What Donna found difficult was keeping a straight face through the tirades. The Big Bad Wolf was scarier than Josh, even in Josh's most incensed moments.
Donna picked up her bags, retrieved her car from the lot area and wove her way through the sloppy streets. Snow had fallen on the capital city recently leaving a pristine blanket of white across the landscape. It sparkled beneath streetlights, and the patches of pale rays thrown by the icy moon playing Peek-A-Boo behind the clouds.
She parked in the lot across from the office at 11:37 precisely. Less than two hours late wasn't bad for using domestic travel services, she thought as she entered the building. Donna shuffled through the halls of the west wing, looking for Josh. She reasoned that something big was in the air and Josh needed her assistance with pulling research, typing up memos and basically keeping him company while he and the rest of the senior staff worked to put out a fire that was stirred by the Republican party while she was gone. She rounded the corner to the Communications bullpen and saw something that took her completely off guard.
Nobody was there. No Toby, no Sam, not even Ginger or Bonnie. The bullpen was like a ghost town.
Maybe they're all in Josh's office, Donna thought as her pace quickened towards the place that was her home more often than her apartment. When she arrived at her desk, she saw the mirror image of Communications. Donna dropped her tote bag on her desk and entered Josh's office. Finding it eerily empty, she sat down in Josh's chair and placed her chin in her hand.
This can't be. Josh specifically told me to come here once my plane landed. And now I can't find a single soul in this entire area. They can't be in Leo's office or I would have heard the screaming by now. Nobody has left this early since the President's thing became public. Where could they be?
Donna leaned back in the chair and subconsciously placed her feet on the desk. She weighed the options of trying his cell or pager. Neither seemed advisable with so little information available to her. If he was deep in strategy, an unwelcome disturbance would not bode well for Donna, especially if Josh was still arguing with Toby. She closed her eyes and racked her thoughts as to where the currently elusive Josh Lyman was hiding.
"Welcome back, Donna."
Donna's eyes snapped open and she stared at the visitor.
"Mr. President!" she exclaimed as her feet hit the floor. "How… how are you, sir?"
"I'm doing fine," Bartlet responded. "Did I wake you?"
"No sir. I was just trying to think of where Josh could be hiding.. where he could be right now."
"Well, I can tell you where he is," Bartlet offered. "He went home."
"Why?" Donna proclaimed and then caught the President's curious look. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir. It's just that he told me to come directly here after my flight landed. So I did. Is he all right? Did something... happen?"
"No, I ordered him to go home," Bartlet said. "Well, I had Leo do it. Told them all to go, in fact. My entire senior staff was acting like a bunch of five-year-olds who desperately need a nap. One minute they were ready to kill each other and the next they were giggling uncontrollably. I'm thinking about opening up a daycare in the west wing for them. There's good money in childcare these days, Donna. If you're thinking of a career change in the next few months, this is a good opportunity."
"Well, thank you, Mr. President," Donna said smiling. "But I think I'll stay where I am for the moment."
"Suit yourself," Bartlet replied. "But I'm thinking of applying myself. I told them all to go home and not set foot in their offices until 7 am. It's good to be Commander-in Chief some days, Donna."
"Yes, sir," Donna replied as she joined Bartlet in the bullpen. "If there is nothing pressing on the horizon, sir, shouldn't you be in bed as well?"
"I needed to do some thinking," he replied. "And I think best by roaming the halls late at night when no one's around."
"Mrs. Bartlet out of town?" Donna surmised.
"She'll be back on Tuesday," Bartlet said with sage nod.
Donna smiled as she walked back to her desk to retrieve her tote bag. The President accompanied her down the hall towards the exit.
"Did you have an enjoyable experience in Hawaii, Donna?" Bartlet asked.
"Absolutely, sir," she said enthusiastically. "I learned a lot while I was out there and I met... um, some interesting people. Plus, I got do some shopping."
"Shopping, you say?" the President asked. "Well, Hawaii is known for its beautiful treasures, both natural and those they import from overseas and say it's authentic."
"Of course, Mr. President," Donna nodded as she pulled a box out of her bag. "And since you're here, I'd like to give you this."
"A present? For me?" Bartlet remarked a bit surprised. "Donna, you really didn't have to."
"I wanted to, sir." Donna said as he opened the box. "To show my gratitude to you."
"Donna, you're gratitude is obvious at all times," Bartlet said then grew silent as he fished the content out of the box. "Why, Donna, it's lovely."
"It's a volcanic rock from the Mauna Loa Volcano, sir," Donna explained. "I knew you enjoyed authentic pieces and, well, this is as authentic as one can get in Hawaii."
"Yes it is," he smiled. "Did you know that the Mauna Loa Volcano is the largest volcano and the largest single mountain of any kind in the world? It rises nearly 29,000 feet from its base on the sea floor."
"And it's erupted more than 35 times since the 1800s," Donna continued. "It usually produces between one to five million tons of lava per hour in the early stages of eruption."
"The South Kona District is known for its cultivation of macadamia nuts," Bartlet added.
"Don't forget coffee, sir," Donna said as she stifled a yawn.
"Well, at least someone on this staff enjoys trivia," Bartlet nodded. "Okay, I've kept you here long enough. Josh will need you bright and early tomorrow - or rather later today. Go home and rest, that's an order."
"Thank you, sir," she yawned again.
"Good girl," the President chuckled. "And thank you again for this lovely artifact."
"You're welcome, Mr. President."
*******************
Sunlight arrived and brought the city to live again. Donna managed to get out of bed and into the office before 7 a.m. in the hopes of finding Josh and the staff before the day got started. However, as she strolled down the halls, her gift bags in hand, she could see she was too late. She found a terse note taped to her computer from Josh stating it was 5:45 a.m. when he wrote it and her chair was suspiciously empty. The note further stated that if she was going to bother coming to the office that day, she would be able to find him in the Mural Room with the Senior Staff for an early morning meeting. She crumpled the note and tossed it in the trash before setting off on her excursion. Before she was near the door, she heard the unmistakable sound of Josh hard at work: yelling.
"I'm telling you, Sam," he shouted. "We've got to watch out for the Midwest. Ohio and Indiana are the pivotal votes and we don't have them!"
"And I'm telling you, Ohio and Indiana will fall in line," Sam shot back. "We should worry about the Northwest. Washington is the key."
"Well," Toby sighed, "You're both wrong. Our battle ground is Florida. We've got to win back those votes. I've read those numbers and they're so close to Joey's hypothetical poll I would swear she's psychic."
Bartlet sat at the head of the table and watched the verbal tennis match continue. A part of him was energized at how much his staff was willing to fight to help him stay in his seat in the Oval Office. The other part wondered if this was a battle worth showing up for. What he did know was that the staff seemed to be focused on the hypothetical electoral results, they seemed less boisterous when answering his questions about election strategy. CJ and Sam's tones were subdued; Toby was sighing frequently before responding and Josh did not seem comfortable looking Bartlet in the eyes. The President looked at his Chief of Staff and heard the echoes of his advice: Give them time; they'll come around. Bartlet removed his glasses and stared toward the door. He noticed Donna quietly standing in the doorway, waiting for Josh to turn his attention towards her so she could let him know that she was in the building. Bartlet saw this as an opportunity and decided to jump.
"Okay, Huey, Dewey and Louie," Bartlet said. "You can halt the diatribe for now. We have a visitor. Donna, did you need something?"
The three staffers turned towards the door. Donna stood there, a slight blush appearing on her alabaster cheeks.
"Welcome back, Donna," Sam said cheerfully. "I trust that everything went well in Hawaii?"
"Oh yes," she nodded. "I learned a tremendous amount from everyone there, and Josh has a detailed report from my trip."
"Yeah, I read all about the little flowers, and ocean breezes and…" Josh stopped his rambling when he felt the stare of the President on the side of his neck.
"Donna," Bartlet said as he shifted his gaze from Josh to her, "I have the utmost confidence in your research skills, and I'm sure your report is excellent."
"Thank you, Mr. President."
"I can't tell you enough how much I enjoy my rock," the President smiled.
"She brought you a rock?" Josh asked sounding perplexed.
"She certainly did," he beamed. "An authentic volcanic rock from the Mauna Loa Volcano. Remind me to tell you all about its history."
"Uh huh," Josh nodded then turned to Donna again. "Didn't anyone teach you it's not nice to bring gifts to just one person."
"Yes," Donna answered gestured to her bags. "That's why I brought something for everyone. They're in here."
"Great. Where's mine?"
"I gave you yours."
"No, you didn't."
"You told me that all you wanted were those notes," she reminded him.
"Since when do you listen to everything I say?"
She turned her back to him then reached into her large tote. She drew out a smaller, colorful satchel containing a hefty, round weight of some sort. She handed the pouch to Leo, who was seated to the left of the President and appeared surprised to be receiving anything.
"This is for you, Leo."
"For me?" Leo replied as he reached into the bag and pulled out a hard, hairy brown object. "A coconut?"
"Yeah," Donna said proudly. "It's so much like you--hard on the outside but sweet deep inside. Get a matching one at a grocery store and you can say you've got a lovely bunch of coconuts."
"I already do," Leo groused as he glared momentarily at his staff. "Thank you, Donna. I honestly have nothing else to say about this."
"Okay," Josh interrupted. "Mine's next."
Donna ignored the order and delved back into her bag. She lifted out a large, slim white box. It rustled slightly as she handed it across to Sam, whose tired eyes perked up behind his glasses as he receive his treasure.
"I thought you'd really enjoy this," she said as he flipped off the lid and tore into the tissue paper.
"Uh… well… this is," he paused and stared into the box. "What can I say? I mean it, Donna. What should I say about this?"
"What is it, Sam?" CJ asked as she leaned forward. "Come on, don't hold out on us."
"It looks like a… grass skirt," Sam said in an unsure tone.
"I'm sorry," CJ chuckled. "Did you say grass skirt?"
"It's a traditional grass skirt that all men wear at the luaus, Sam," Donna informed him.
"Interesting," he replied in a noncommittal tone.
"Isn't it," she responded. "Drives the women wild. You should throw your own authentic luau when the weather gets warmer. You'll be the only man there with a real one. You'll be both the host and master of ceremonies. How could any woman resist that?"
"Really?" he asked.
"Oh yeah," Donna nodded as she sat down next to CJ. "Some women in the shop where I purchased it couldn't stop talking about how appealing they think men are who wear these. Its a coveted symbol of masculinity in some tribes."
"Excellent."
"Is any of that true?" CJ whispered to Donna.
"No," Donna whispered back. "I forgot to put Sam on my list. I picked this up at the airport gift shop thirty minutes before my departure."
"Donna," Josh smiled sweetly, "am I next?"
"No," she answered.
"Donna!"
"Learn some patience, Joshua," Donna said to him as handed the next box in Toby's direction. "This is for you, Toby."
"Oh, gee, really," Toby frowned. "I don't need one."
"Great, then I'll take it," Josh joined in.
Donna instantly slapped his wrist as he reached forward.
"Josh, if you don't sit down and be quiet, you'll be waiting until the end of the term to get your present," Bartlet warned. "I want to see what Toby has."
Josh acknowledged the President's advice and dropped his hands. He sat dejectedly beside Toby, who was taking his sweet time in opening the box. It was as tall as Sam's had been long, but it was wider as well.
When Toby finally opened the vertical box, he pulled out an elaborate headdress, adorned with a multitude of vibrant feathers.
"What is this?" Toby asked.
"It's an ancient style thinking cap," Donna informed him. "You're the big kahuna when it comes to delivering the message around here, so I figured that you deserved a chapeau worthy of your position."
"I like my old thinking cap fine," he grumbled.
"That dirty old thing?" Donna said. "Really, Toby, it's time to get a new one."
"No, its not," he informed her sternly as he placed his feathery new hat back in its box. "That Giants cap has been with me since their last Super Bowl victory. It's a good cap."
"Obviously not, considering their last Super Bowl appearance," Josh smirked. "Now, what was that score again?"
"Shut up."
"Put it on Toby," CJ said.
"No."
"Put it on," Bartlet nodded. "I mean it's certainly not going to hurt. In fact, it might help the thought processes in this room."
"With all due respect, Mr. President," Toby growled. "Hell, no."
"Oh, I knew you were going to make me order you," Bartlet grinned slyly.
"Here, Toby, I'll help you," Donna offered. She reached back into the box and took the well-plumed cap out then placed it atop his head. Donna smoothed the feathers into a standing position. "There. You look like a Tribal Chief now."
"Good, then I vote you off the island," he snarled.
"Toby, this could be a new look for you," Sam lightly chuckled.
"Mr. President," Toby said calmly. "If I have to wear this, then it would be… I would feel wrong to have the spotlight all to myself. I think that Sam should wear his too."
"I agree," Bartlet agreed as he noticed Sam slinking down in his seat. "Sam?"
The deputy speech writer paused for a moment, but the anticipatory grin on his Commander-in-Chief's face told him there were no loopholes to jump through and no rebuttal arguments to be made. He took a deep breath and exhaled his final moment of dignity with this group then stood to model his new Polynesian wardrobe.
"You know," Sam stood and began to wrap the skirt around his trousers, "this reminds me of the luau we had back at Princeton. I had just finished finals. We threw together the whole thing in a couple hours. We even had a pit for cooking the pig."
"Where did you find a pig?" Josh asked. "Or am I better of not asking?"
"Anyway," Sam continued, "the party was in full force - drinks, pig, more drinks. Then.. well, never mind."
"You fell into the pit, didn't you?" CJ surmised.
"It wasn't the actual pit," Sam explained. "It was the test pit. We dug two. I'm not sure why any more. See, what I think is..."
"Sam," Leo interrupted.
"Well, I'm surprised more people didn't do the same," Sam said. "I didn't really get hurt. Twisted my ankle a bit, but I didn't let that stop me from enjoying the rest of the..."
"Sam," Leo tried again.
"I was rather lucky…"
"SAM!"
"Right," he said, the tendrils of his wardrobe crinkling in the chair as he sat down.
"One question, Sam," CJ said.
"What?"
"How did you get girls to go out with you? Or was the pig your date?"
"Okay," Josh said. "Now that we've sufficiently tormented Sam--for now--I believe Donna has another gift to present."
"Yes, I do," Donna said as she pulled out a small wrapped box.
"For me," Josh said firmly.
"No," Donna replied just as confidently. "The last one is for you, CJ."
"No, no, no," Josh said shaking his head.
"Is it time for your nap?" Donna asked then turned her attention back to the Press Secretary. "Go ahead and open it, CJ."
CJ ripped open the paper and opened the box. She pulled out a beautiful coral shell necklace.
"Oh, Donna, it's exquisite," CJ gasped. "It looks handmade."
"It is," Donna beamed. "I watched the guy make it."
"Wait a minute," Toby jumped in. "We get these… things… and she gets that?"
"It's girl power, boys," CJ smirked. "Benefits of the sisterhood."
"Okay," Josh interjected, "Everybody's gotten their presents. Oh, wait. Not everyone. I believe, Ms. Moss, that you have forgotten the most important person here in this room."
"I gave the President his last night," Donna said simply.
"DONNA!"
"Donna, please," Bartlet chuckled. "You better give him his before that vein in his neck burst through his skin."
"Uh, well, you see, Sir," Donna stalled. "It's not exactly here."
"What do you mean not exactly?" Josh asked. "Not exactly it's in this room? Not exactly it's in this building?"
"It hasn't been delivered yet," she confessed.
"It's being delivered?"
"That's what I said."
"You managed to bring back something for everyone in this room and yet mine has to be delivered? What did you buy me--an entire island? 'Cause really, if that's the case, then you'd better quit complaining about your salary."
"The thing I got you will be here in a week."
"A week? Donna…"
"Okay, now that it's all settled," Leo interrupted, "can we get back to the business at hand?"
Josh scowled as everyone else in the room nodded. Donna excused herself and went to her desk to start opening mail.
****************
To:
From:
Date: 25DEC2001
Time: 08:03.27
Subject: Thank you
Dearest Donna,
Thank you so much for the beautiful earrings
you sent me from Hawaii. How was your trip? Did you enjoy seeing
the sun again? I do hope you were able to see some of the islands.
My Joshua is his father's son, as I have said many times before, and I
fear he may have given you an itinerary that kept you from leaving the
conference rooms. Noah and Joshua are the only two men I know who
could go to one of the most beautiful places on the planet and ignore their
surroundings entirely... unless there was a golf course and a tee time
set aside for them. Such a stupid game, if you ask me, but it made
them happy to walk around at 6 a.m. whacking little white balls with crooked
sticks. I was always just glad they didn't try it in my rose garden.
It is too bad you were not able to go home to see your family for the holidays.
It can be such a difficult time of the year. I don't suppose that
working for a man who doesn't acknowledge holidays makes it any easier.
Joshua's only clue when Hanukah is comes when I call him three days after
it is over to remind him that he forgot to call me during Hanukah.
I never dropped him on his head as a child, but there are times when I
wonder if someone else may have. See that he gives you any time off
you are entitled to and have a Happy New Year.
Warmest wishes,
Anna
*****************
Donna finished reading her e-mail. She was glad she had sent the Anna the earrings. She felt awkward doing so at first, but when she saw them in the shop, she felt driven to get them for Anna. She wasn't sure why. The woman wanted for nothing--at least materially. She sounded a touch lonely in her letter, though. Josh never went home for the holidays, and as Anna freely admitted, was apt to forget to call home regularly. Donna made a mental note to write back to her before the day was done, but first she needed to tackle the tide of personal mail she had received while she was away. Her roommate had left a stack of Christmas cards on Donna's bed that had filled their box. She decided to spend her lunch hour reading through them--and praying she had not forgotten to send one to anyone herself.
She was nearly through her stack of mail and was reading a card from her sister when her peaceful moment was interrupted.
"My gift anywhere in all this mess?" Josh asked.
"It's after four o'clock on Christmas Day, and I'm just starting my lunch hour," Donna informed him. "I would like half an hour to myself."
"It's mid afternoon on a Thursday, and I'm still trying to get my present," he responded. "I want my gift."
"I don't have it yet," she said then returned her eyes to the card.
"Whatcha reading?"
"War and Peace," she said flatly as she kept reading.
"Really?" he replied. "It was a hell of a lot longer when I got stuck reading it in high school."
"Do you need something?" she asked giving him her patient expression that let him know her patience was in an anorexic stage at that moment.
"Yeah, my present," he said with a grin. "You walked right into that, you know. You're slipping."
"So are you," she snipped. "Where's mine?"
Donna held out her hands and waited. He looked at her with a perplexed expression. She recalled his mother's message. Josh could focus on things so completely that he could miss someone standing right in front of him speaking to him, but even he could not have missed the trees and wreaths decorating the office. Surely he had read a calendar somewhere that informed him that December 25 was a holiday. The nearly total lack of people in the office should have indicated to him that this was not a regular workday. And if all that managed to slip by him, he certainly would know that the President had left for New Hampshire hour earlier to spend the holiday at his farm with his family. Donna stared back at him, but was not rewarded with any change in his expression.
"Your keen powers of observation could use a little sharpening, Josh," she said, getting up from her desk then yanking a file out of the bank of cabinets adjacent to her desk. "It is the season of giving. You are getting your gift soon--though, I could remind you that you didn't want anything other than your notes."
"And I am left t ask again, when did you start obeying my commands so precisely?"
"Hmm, that is a question," she said as she returned to her seat without giving him an answer. "Here's a better one: Where's mine? Christmas, basically, has come and gone, yet I--your over worked, under paid assistant--don't seem to have a gift from you."
"I gave you a trip to Hawaii."
"The DNC paid for that," she countered.
"Technicality," he shrugged. "It was from me, but they footed the bill. It's that $10 limit thing."
"It wasn't from you."
"Sure it was," Josh argued. "I spent about $10 in phone calls, on my personal bill, arranging for you to go."
"You really know how to overwhelm a girl," she said breezing past him and entering his office. "It's amazing that some woman hasn't knocked down your door to be your date for New Year's."
He followed at a leisurely pace.
"Who says one or two haven't?" Josh replied as he took a seat at his desk, instinctively kicking his feet onto the desktop.
"Right," she scoffed. "Like you have a date for New Year's."
"Is there some bar against that occurrence? Did I miss a memo or something?"
"So do you have a date?" Donna asked in surprise as she instantly sat in the chair opposite his desk.
The room felt warm and eerily still to her.
"I just told you I did," he said. "You?"
"Me?" she asked quickly then studied the look on his face. "Oh, you mean do I have a date? Well, not exactly. So who is your date with?"
"The proper construction is 'with whom are you going on this date,'" he said. "Just a friend who is going to be in town. She called a couple days ago."
"So it's a woman."
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing," Donna said, trying to keep her tone conversational. "Do I know her? Where does she work?"
"Why are you interested?" he asked, giving her an appraising look that could read nothing in her bland expression "You're the one always trying to set me up; just be happy your services were not needed."
"I'm just curious, that's all," she lied effectively. "I mean, when Josh Lyman takes an break from working... that's something. It's practically news worthy. I was just wondering if CJ needed to be briefed."
"There's nothing wrong with a solid work ethic," he retorted. "Besides, if she and I happen to go to a certain party at which certain influential ears and voices will be, and I strike up a relevant conversation that borders on work, then so much the better."
So, she's in politics, Donna surmised. She
began running through the possible choices. The one who jumped to
mind first was Melanie Gates, a poli-sci professor at Georgetown who (in
Donna's estimate) was a little too differential to Josh's opinion the last
time both appeared on CNN's Crossfire. The woman was also a kind
of trampy in Donna's opinion; her red hair wasn't natural and frankly Donna
doubted her bust size wasn't either. Add to that the woman's too-perfect
makeup and unprofessionally provocative clothing and the woman's entire
image was that of a well-tutored prostitute. She was more Sam's type
than Josh's, Donna felt.
So who could it be? Not one of his addle-minded
admirers. He had that look in his eyes that said part of the evening
would be dedicated to work. That means it's someone he either trusts
or has access that he...
Oh no!
"No," Donna cried as she searched his eyes and found confirmation. "Josh! That's your Mandy face."
"My what?"
"You two are all wrong for each other," Donna said firmly. "You were miserable with her and the only reason it bothers you when she's with someone else is your selfish, juvenile need to believe you are every woman's dream."
"Okay, I'm not proposing to her," Josh said defensively. "She's in town doing some consulting for Senator Gilmore. We both happen to support the same budget amendment. Earl Brenan is hosting a gathering with some folks who we both need to speak with unofficially and this is the perfect opportunity. And how do you figure I have a juvenile ne...."
"So it's just business?" Donna interrupted.
"With Madeline, you never know," Josh grinned and laced his fingers behind his head. "So, you didn't tell me, do you have a date?"
"Not really," Donna said with a pinched tone. "Ashley and I are supposed to go out with some friends, but it's all kind of up in the air right now."
"Sounds perfectly pathetic," he said, sounding and looking pleased. "Enjoy it. Now, I have a radical idea for a Thursday afternoon..."
"Yes?"
"Work."
Donna stood and offered him a sweet sneer as she turned to leave his office.
"I want you to know that I'm going to enjoy the rest of my day despite you," she said.
"I want my present," he shouted after her.
*****************
The New Years--at least the eve of it--dawned and
left Donna without any plans. Her friends were heading into
Georgetown. The frigid temperatures were one reason to stay in,
she thought. The other was her looming fear of the process server
who was surely looking for her. She was trepidatious about speaking
to the grand jury, but she was also enjoying her game of cat and mouse.
Granted, she wasn't sure anyone had seriously tried to find her yet, but
the idea of it gave her a small thrill. So, as her roommate departed,
Donna dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt (which she strategically
turned inside out) then headed back to the office. There was never
a shortage of minor things to take care of and it would be quiet in the
West Wing that evening. The peace would be a welcomed change.
She took a cab to the front gate, fearing drunks and bad drivers, and arrived
at her desk around 10 p.m.
She was halfway through the stack of faxes when suddenly another dozen were tossed into her in-basket. Donna looked up, ready to give a brief yet nasty glare at whatever intern had the gall to throw more work on her desk. She found instead the retreating back of a man dressed in a tuxedo walking into Josh's office. Curious, Donna called out to him.
"Josh?"
"Yeah," he said peaking around the door frame.
"What are you doing here?"
"Working," he said.
She noted that his tie was undone and his cufflinks were no where to be seen. As she inspected him, she felt his eyes give her a long once over.
"Well, you dressed for the occasion," he commented,
looking perplexedly at her sweatshirt then shaking his head.
"What occasion?"
"Your night out with the girls," he smirked.
"It fell through," she sighed.
"Well, you're here with me tell me, how's your year going so far?"
Donna grimaced then rolled her eyes.
"That bad?" Josh remarked. "Good. I'd hate to think I was the only one who wasn't having fun."
He returned to his office but in a loud voice explained to her that a last minute call from Leo canceled his plans. He had been in the office for the better part of the evening, sorting out a snafu with the Red Cross and a mini-blizzard that has struck North Dakota two days earlier. Donna listened with some interest, but had turned her attention to the final bits of her mail that she had not opened during her lunch hour that week.
The envelope that interested her most was the one she had expected least. She slit open the deep red paper and started reading the beautiful card within. She had not finished the front of the greeting when it was suddenly pulled from her hands.
"Excuse me," she said in a perturbed voice to Josh. "That card is none of your business."
"Everything in this building is my business," he replied, managing to sound innocent.
"You're not deluded enough to believe that," she said trying to snatch the card back. "Now, give that to me. Was it addressed to you? No, it was not. It was addressed to me. Bradford was kind enough to send it to me. Got it? Me, not you."
"Buford can write?" Josh chuckled. "How did he sign his name? With an "X"?"
"Bradford," she sighed. "He told me that it was a shame that I wouldn't be able to come home for Christmas and that we wouldn't get the chance to see each other."
"I'll bet he did," Josh continued, holding the card just beyond her reach. "So back on the farm it's just him and the sheep or whatever, I guess. At least he won't be lonely."
"He has a large family."
"Do they bear any resemblance to livestock?"
"Josh."
"Hey, whatever your farmer boy likes to do is his business," Josh said. "I'm not passing judgment... not much anyway."
Donna leaned forward and stripped the card from his grasp. He seethed suddenly and stuck in index finger in his mouth. Donna was briefly sorry for his paper cut, and then decided he had earned it.
"How many times do I have to tell you?" Donna remarked. "Bradford is not a farmer. He's a very successful farming equipment salesman."
"Right," Josh nodded. "Sir John Deere. Yeah, 'cause that's nothing like farming. Nothing wrong with it, Donna. Farms need.... things with motors. I know that. We have farms in Connecticut... I think."
"You sound jealous," she observed.
"Of a someone who is the equivalent of a car salesman?"
"He's very popular, well loved by everyone, and makes a ton of money," she explained. She then place the card far from his reach--behind her desk in front of the book Josh had given her two Christmases earlier.
"I have that," Josh said confidently. "Why are you being all secretive and defensive about Buford's card?"
"Bradford," she said firmly. "Because you're being a juvenile with your name calling."
"Do you get this way about everyone you know?" Josh queried. "I didn't see you bat an eye the other day with the Times somehow managed to call me both petulant and a mercenary."
"Well, I didn't see where they were off the mark," Donna informed him.
"That's a matter of opinion," Josh said confidently. "What isn't is this rather pathetic longing you insist on perpetuating for a high school crush..."
"It's not a longing and it's not pathetic," Donna said instantly. "And it's not a crush."
"You're gushing over the guy, Donna."
"I don't gush over marr...," she stopped herself, feeling she'd said more than enough for Josh to keep himself entertained--at her expense--well into the coming new year.
"What was that?"
"Nothing," Donna replied curtly, folding her card and tucking it into a desk drawer.
"Something," Josh insisted with a grin that brought out both dimples in their snarky form. "Marr.... Marr something... Donna...."
"You, Joshua Lyman, are an absolute child, a bratty child," she said. "How you are able to fool anyone with a modicum of intelligence into believing you are a responsible, mature adult is one of the mysteries of..."
"So, Buford the Beloved, patron of all tractors everywhere, has his own Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, doesn't he?" Josh asked.
Donna turned in her chair, showing him her back as she began typing on her computer.
"Now, you're looking like the jilted woman," he continued.
"I'm not jilted," Donna said spinning in her seat again.
"Me thinks the lady doth..."
"Oh shut up," she snapped, realizing he was bored and would continue with the maddening topic until he found something else to occupy him. She reached into a stack of memos on her desk and snatched a handful. "Here. You've got so much time on your hands, read your memos."
"I pay you to do that," he said, taking them all the same.
The firm set of her jaw and the stern look in her eyes signaled the fun part of needling her was over.
"Donna, call it a night," he relented. "That stuff can wait until morning."
"It's not for you," she said, continuing with her typing.
"I know," he said. "It's for Toby so it's not priority. Come on. I'll take you home."
"You will?" she asked suspiciously but gratefully. She was tired and technically not getting paid for the extra time she was putting in--which normally didn't bother her, but doing it for Toby was somehow different than when she was working specifically for Josh. "I can get a cab."
"I know you could," he said, holding out her coat for her. "But I won't get my present that way. You've got it, and I want it. So, we'll go back to your place, and you can give that special token of your appreciation."
"I'll what?"
"The gift. From Hawaii," he said. "You said it arrived yesterday."
"Oh, right."
"Donna, if you've got something else in mind, I'll have to take a rain check because...."
"Do you want your stupid gift or not?' she said, feeling her cheeks grow flush.
*****************
The drive to apartment was perilous with the bad roads, questionable sobriety of many of the drivers and Josh seemingly fearless affection for the accelerator. Donna had no fear of an accident, but that did not stop her from prophesying one for Josh and his driving techniques. She reminded him three times before they passed Dupont Circle that the speed limit was not a dare.
Once at her place, they hurried into the building. Even in frigid weather, the streets were as far from empty as they were from being safe. The heat of the building was stifling with the old pipes turning the halls into saunas. Both had peeled off their coats by the time they reached her apartment on the third floor.
Josh had launched headlong into a castigation of the city's inability to keep the streets civilized and was blaming the war zone atmosphere on the root of all evil in his universe: Ultra Conservative Republicans. Donna had heard this litany of charges many times and was inclined to agree with more of it than she disagreed with, but not this evening. During the ride to her building, her eyes kept straying to the driver. With his focus generally on the road, he was unaware of the scrutiny he was receiving.
The thoughts that flowed through her mind at those moments had nothing to do with her job, Josh's job, or the White House. She thought of what it would be like to spend a holiday, even a regular evening, with Josh having dinner at an actual restaurant, watching a movie…
"Donna, you gonna open the door?" Josh asked, breaking her from her trance.
Donna pulled her keys from her bag and opened the door, glancing at the top of the casing as she turned to face him. A slight blush appeared on her cheeks.
"What?"
"It's mistletoe," Donna pointed upward.
"It's poisonous you know," he informed her.
"Mistletoe?"
"Yeah."
It took them several seconds to realize the meaning of hung mistletoe. Donna jumped further into her apartment and Josh leaped into the hallway… the small of his back crashing into the fire extinguisher outside.
"OUCH!" he screamed.
"Are you all right?" Donna asked as she made her way over to him.
"Sure, he groaned. "It's nothing massive chiropractic intervention can't fix."
Donna removed the mistletoe and tossed it aside. "Want me to help you up or do you want to crawl inside?"
"Give me my dignity. I'll stand," he said with a wince in his voice.
"You're gonna need ice for that," she said heading back inside. "It's gonna bruise."
"I'll be fine. Just give me a second or five."
Josh limped into Donna's apartment incredibly slower than his usual lightning quick speed.
"Here, let me take a look at it," Donna reached for his jacket.
"Hey!" he yelled, and then squinted his eyes shut.
"What?"
"It's fine, Florence Nightingale," Josh moaned.
"Uh huh," Donna said then lightly touched the spot on his back.
"See?" Josh said through clenched teeth. "Just fine."
"No, not fine. Go lay down on the couch on your stomach," she ordered. "I'm getting some ice."
"No, no," he argued. "Really. Donna. It's fine. That's not necessary. Nor is it.... appropriate."
"Appropriate?" she repeated. "Josh, give me a break. It's not like I haven't...."
"I don't care," he shot back. "It's... just forget about it. It hurts less already. Really. When you hit me with the door last spring was worse than this."
"At least sit down," she pleaded.
Josh carefully and gingerly sat down on Donna's couch. He tried to put his feet up on her coffee table, but the scorching pain shooting down his back decided for him that it was not the right thing to do.
"How do you feel?"
"With every nerve ending, how do you feel?" he smirked.
"Joshua."
"Donnatella Moss, don't lecture me," he commanded.
"This is my house and I can lecture you all you want," she retorted.
"This is an apartment, not a house, and how is being snippy the proper way to treat your guests?" Josh asked sharply. "And you say I lack manners...."
"I was just saying..."
"Donna," he cut her off.
"Yes?"
"My present."
"What?" she asked then recalled the reason he was there. "Oh right. Stay here."
Josh waited as she began sifting through her bag--the one she brought home from the office. It took him several seconds to register this.
"Donna!"
"What?" she asked as she drew a box out of the bag.
"You lied to me," he grumbled. "You had it with you the whole time. You were holding out on me."
"You were being a pest," she said. "Now, I feel bad because of... well, because you're kind of pathetic."
"Fine," he said, holding out his hand. "Let's have it."
"You see, I am a woman of occasion..." she began, still holding firm to the small box.
"Great," he said with curt nod as he cut her off. "Now gimme!"
"What are you, three?"
"If I say yes, do I get my present?"
"You need to learn patience," she informed him.
"Right," he agreed readily. "Now, hand it over, Donna. I want it. Now!"
"Okay, my sister-in-law doesn't let my nephew he act like this," Donna said.
"There are times when I get paid to act like this," Josh countered quickly. "In fact, Leo sends me to the Hill to yell about Big Tobacco when I act like this."
"I'd suggest a Time Out's in order for you," Donna warned.
"I'd suggest a raise for you if you'd give me my present," he said eagerly.
"I'm not falling for that."
Josh paused and relaxed his posture and turned his gaze on her in a softer way. He grinned slightly.
"That's because you are an intelligent and savvy woman.," he said mildly.
"I am," she agreed, brushing her hair from her shoulders and smiling inwardly. "And that's why I'm not falling for that either."
"I want my present!"
Donna sighed, figuring she had tortured him enough. She smiled and handed him the slim, neatly wrapped box.
"This is it?" he asked, looking at the tiny parcel.
"What did you expect?" she asked. "A new car?"
"Just that Sam's was in a bigger box," Josh said, failing to remove the vestiges of pout from his voice.
"Do boys ever grow out of the 'bigger must be better' concept?"
"It's better than Sam's thing right?" he continued.
"Much," she promised.
He barely nodded as he tried to tear into the paper. He racked his short nails into the paper with no lucky. He looked for an edge or a seam to no avail. It was in his hands and yet beyond his reach at the same time. This could be a metaphor for the election, he thought as his frustration rose.
Finally, he sighed explosively and turned a pointed stare toward Donna.
"Donna!"
"For the love of God, Joshua," she said and held out her hand. "Does Harvard know you flunked Kindergarten? Give that to me."
"It's mine," he said possessively, though he handed the box back.
She could not invade any of the seams without risking her nails. So she went to the small desk in the corner and retrieved a pair of scissors to slice through the tape.
"I could do that," Josh said.
"I feel safer this way," she replied as she handed him box with a flap of paper now accessible. "Something tells me you were the type who ran with scissors in grade school."
He did not bother to comment, for several reasons. One, he was intent on opening his gift. Two, what she said was marginally true. Three, he was no good at lying to her so he had no simply way to defend himself from the charge. His father had been the only the litigator in the family for a reason.
Rather than delve into the debate, he tore into the wrapping--tossing a wad of paper to the floor. Donna rolled her eyes and retrieved the discarded wrapping without further comment. She watched him as he paused before opening the box. He was looking at her suspiciously.
"It's not gonna spill or anything is it?" he asked. "You didn't like, bring me sand or dirt or something, did you?"
"No."
"Is it empty?" he asked, shaking the box. "It feels kind of light. You know it's cruel to trick people."
"Yeah, it's empty because I wanted to get your hopes up and then laugh at the outcome of you finding nothing," she scoffed.
"You do have a cruel streak in you," he observed as briefly narrowed his eyes at her before returning his attention to his gift.
Josh cautiously opened the lid and peered inside. He folded back the thin tissue paper.
"What is...," he paused as he looked at the picture inside. "It's a baseball card."
"Yes, it is," she nodded proudly.
"Wow, you went all out," he said. "Did you chew the gum or is that in here, too?"
"Okay, Monday morning we're getting your eyes checked and buying you a book on manners," Donna said as she leaned across him and turned on the light beside the couch. "Look closely."
He did as she commanded. He blinked and the pleased dimple appeared in his cheek. He looked at her from the corner of his eyes for a moment before speaking.
"Autographed," he noted. "Personalized for me."
"Yes," Donna proclaimed. "I saw Marilyn in Hawaii and she was going to New York and was going to see Mike..."
"That's Mr. Piazza to you," Josh corrected her.
"He told me on the phone to call him Mike," she said. "I was going to call him 'dude' for you, but it was too utterly juvenile for me."
"Donna this is...," he said as he smiled and stared at the card. "I don't know what to say. Thank you."
"You're welcome," Donna replied. "Thank you for sending me to Hawaii."
He looked at her, the genuine gratitude on her face. Her blue eyes shimmering in the....
How can they shimmer in basic light? Wait! She's an assistant. Their eyes do not shimmer. Ginger and Carol's eyes are not... Hell, I don't even know what color their eyes are. They have eyes, right? Yeah, they can each see so they have eyes. Then again, neither of them are my Donna.... Donna. Just Donna. Donna, my assistant. Okay, I'm more tired than I thought. Or maybe I hit my head when I hit my back. Doesn't matter. I'm leaving.
He stood abruptly, wincing in the process.
"Thanks again," he said brusquely. "It's late and... Good night."
"Good night, Josh," she said, puzzled by his swift mood change. "Are you sure you're okay? Can you make it down the stairs?"
She followed him to the door as he made his hasty retreat.
"If I can't you'll hear it in a few seconds," he said then stiffly walked out without another word.
*****************
Josh collapsed onto his couch and flipped on the TV to CNN. He had had just enough time to get into the apartment, put his gift down, and take off his jacket to realize he'd already lost his gift. It was around somewhere, he reasoned. He'd search for it first thing in the morning and put it some place safe from himself. His mother recommended from time to time that he allow her to visit and "Josh-proof" his apartment. What that meant he did not know nor did he ask. He normally responded to her chiding request with idle threats about putting her in the worst retirement home in Connecticut the first chance he got.
He looked at the phone and shook his head. He had promised to call her that evening, he recalled. She wouldn't have worried when he didn't. She was used to his forgetting and came to expect it. It was the moments when he did call as promised that made her worry. She always assumed it meant something was wrong.
He pushed those thoughts from his mind and focused on the news report. An affiliate station was feeding footage of a hotel fire in Las Vegas current in progress. Josh hit the mute button. The sirens obscured the commentator's voice and that was one noise he didn't need in stereo. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Sleep was what he needed, though he knew it wouldn't come easily. While contemplating those chances, there was a knock on his door.
Josh waited a moment; perplexed and questioning whether he actually heard it. A second round of taps quickly followed. He stiffly rose from his seat and walked to the door. He looked suspiciously through the spy hole.
"Donna?" he remarked in surprise as he opened the door. "What's going on?"
"Hi!"
"No, tired," Josh replied. "How 'bout you?"
"Long time no see," she answered.
"What are you doing?"
She was wearing her jacket, mittens and winter hat, but she look chilled all the same. The arctic air outside had blanched her alabaster skin to a pasty white while the tip of her nose seemed nearly blue.
"How are you?" she asked brightly rather than answer.
"I'm about the way I was when I said good-bye to you half an hour ago," Josh sighed. "Why are you here?"
"I was in the neighborhood," she said inanely.
"Donna."
"Okay," she relented and gave him her stern face. "I wanted to make sure you got home okay. I know, I know. I worry way too much. I'm as bad as your mother."
"No one's as bad as my mother," he sighed as he stepped back from the door. "Well, don't stand in the hallway. Come in."
Donna entered the apartment and peeled off her layers. She was still wearing her sweatpants and sweatshirt. Josh looked at the sweatshirt more carefully. She was wearing it inside out--apparently on purpose. A closer inspection of the reverse imaging on the stitching of the wording on the front finally registered with him: E L A Y
"Did you steal that from me?" he asked, pointing at the letters.
"Um, no," she said.
"Is it mine?"
"Well, in a way," she hedged.
"By that you mean?"
"It is," she said.
"Fine," he sighed and shook his head. He was too weary to care. He'd concern himself with how she got it at another time.
He returned to his spot on the couch and grimaced as he sat. Donna watched him with keen eyes. She stood beside him with concern in her eyes.
"Why thank you for offering," she said as she sat. "I would love to sit, Joshua. You sure you're okay?"
He gingerly placed his feet on the coffee table before answering.
"Hurts less already."
"Why is it you are a baby about things that are nothing but when you are seriously pain you act all Clint Eastwood and pretend you're tough? I mean, you do know it doesn't fool anyone, right?"
"I could be Clint Eastwood tough," he remarked with a quick nod.
"You have an amazingly selective hearing ability," Donna sighed. "What am I supposed to do with you?"
"Help me win a presidential election," he said simply. "Look, Donna, you don't need to worry about me. I can handle it."
"I can't help it, Josh," she informed him. "Ever since..."
She unconsciously turned her eyes toward the windows at the front of the room. Josh watched her gaze then understood what she was not saying.
"You're not here because of what happened tonight, are you?" he ventured.
"It's about a lot of nights and days, too," she said. "Something is bothering you. It's more than just the campaign. I can feel it, Josh."
"Are you a member of the Psychics Friend Network or something?"
"The mind is a powerful thing that science doesn't understand fully," she informed him. She stopped short of telling him about Miss Helena, her hairdresser who also was a medium who had been practicing her craft since she was a young girl in Trinidad and Tobago some 30 years earlier. "But that's not the point. I'm your friend. I am, Josh. Yes, you're my boss, but you're my friend, too."
Josh said nothing. He didn't want to argue with her. He looked at her and saw the sleeplessness in her face that he felt in his bones. She needed another vacation--a real vacation--and she certainly deserved one. But that was out of the question. He needed her, his assistant, for the battle ahead. When that was over, if they were still standing he would consider the possibility of her perhaps taking some time off at a point that was convenient.... maybe.
"Josh?" Donna said, waving her hand in front of his eyes. "Hey there. Welcome back. Where did you go?"
"How did both our evenings get torpedoed without any intervention from.... well, either of us?" he asked, shifting the subject.
"You mean you," she countered. "That I cannot explain."
"Great, another unknown," he said. "If the new year is going to go like this..."
"I think it was a fluke," Donna replied, with a firm nod.
"It better be," Josh yawned. "I've made a lot of plans for this coming year and if they all fall apart like tonight, we are looking for new jobs in November."
Donna saw the troubled look on his face again. She knew, could sense, that it was not just the uphill battle for the election that was causing it. She placed her hand on his shoulder.
"You just need to have faith, Josh," she said warmly.
"So you're saying I'm screwed?"
"I mean it," Donna said tersely.
"Faith?" he repeated. "Me? Did you hit your head recently?"
She shook her head and offered him a puzzled look.
"Donna, I have precisely no faith in anything lately," Josh sighed.
"The team, all of you, can pull this off," she said emphatically. "Okay, so it won't be like it was before, but this thing's gonna work out. I just know it, Josh. I mean it. It will."
Josh could see the hope in her expression. It pushed the exhaustion out of her eyes and made her face glow. She honestly believed what she said. Before he realized what he was doing, the words he tried not to utter spilled over his lips.
"It wasn't supposed to be this way," he said. "He wasn't supposed to do this to us. I signed on the first time because Leo said I could believe in this man; I heard him speak and after that.... I told myself I would follow this man to Hell.... and now..."
"Now you feel like you've been there?" she asked.
"Been there and bought a condo," he said as he shook his head. "He put us here. I don't know how to... He wasn't supposed to do this!"
"He as an illness," Donna said simply, trying not to be argumentative. "You can't fault him for that."
"I don't," Josh said quickly. "Not for that."
"Because he let you down?" she remarked. "Because he's human after all?"
"I knew that," Josh snapped.
Stress, lack of sleep and months of pent up frustration removed any inhibition he may have held about expressing his deepest thoughts on the man he was finding hard to trust again.
"And yes, he let me down," Josh seethed. "I know that sounds selfish, but I don't care. I've finally decided that you can't count on anything or any one. Politics aren't pretty. I've known that since I knew what politics were. I know no one is perfect. Hey, I was gonna put Hoynes in the White House because... Hell, because I could do it, and he was the lesser of the evils already out there. Then I heard this man speak and I felt... I felt like I was 17 again and anything was possible. I had something, someone, I could believe in; he made me think that I was wrong to doubt people and... Look, I can't explain it. He just..."
Donna sighed and softened her expression. Josh worried her in ways she could not express to him. His highs were so high you needed Air Force One to reach him. And his lows... They could swing so deep into the darkness he carried inside him that she feared he might never be able to crawl out. But he did, time and again. Josh Lyman was many things, and survivor was one of them, she reminded herself.
"Anything's still possible, Josh," she said. "You said it yourself over and over to reporters: This was a private thing made public. I know that you're going to say that nothing's private when you're in politics. So this is out in the open now. Deal with it--it's what you do. Quitting is not in you. You don't know how."
Josh heaved a heavy sigh. He knew she was right, but he was in too much pain, physically and mentally to agree.
"Josh, do you want to walk away from all this... right now?"
"No, I don't," he said. "And I know why he did it. I accept it. Some part of me agrees with it. I'm going to spend the next few months convincing everyone I can in this country to agree with me. I will argue to my last breath the political and legal reasons why he wasn't wrong to do what he did, but some part of me... That's just it. It sounds childish and maybe it is, but he let me down. I resent that he did this."
"Hero worship from Josh Lyman..."
"He's not a hero," Josh informed her tersely. "My father once told me, the only heroes we have left in this country are journalists and firemen--and I'm not so sure about the former."
"I'm sorry. I really am," Donna said sincerely. "I know that you're hurt and angry. You have every right to be. But, he's human, Josh, just like the rest of us. And like it or not, we hurt others; sometimes intentional, sometimes unintentional. That's a part of life. We have to learn to deal with that and accept it. We may not like it, but we just have to."
"That's the problem," Josh sighed. "How do I do what I did for him last time when now I know, when it comes down to the basics, he's really not that much different than me or Toby or even Hoynes? He's just like the rest of us and for some reason... that feels like a crime."
"Have you lost respect for him?" she asked. "He's still a good man, Josh."
"I know," he whispered.
"You admire him," Donna told Josh. "I've watched you talk about him, defend him, on TV. The look on your face is the same as when you talk about your father. You're crushed because he wasn't perfect; well, that's not fair to him."
"Everyone lets you down in the end," he scoffed. "They say when a giant falls, it shakes the very pillars of the universe. Well, they ain't kidding."
"Oh, Josh," Donna sighed.
She then leaned over and hugged him. Josh stiffened
at her touch, and then relaxed.
"I know know how you feel," she said soothingly. "I really do. You're not alone. It's how we all feel; but it's going to be all right. You guys are going to make it all right."
"I don't know a whole lot anymore," he admitted through a hoarse whisper.
"I'll tell you what you should know."
"What?"
Donna released her embrace and stared into his dark brown eyes. "I know you guys can do this. That's what you can believe in, Josh. I know I do and I'm not going anywhere."
"There are times when it seems like the only thing I think I can count on is you," he admitted with a wan smile.
"Well, you can," she whispered. "Never doubt that."
Josh gently brushed Donna's cheek with his fingertips. "Yeah."
As the moment lingered, Donna felt the heat begin to rise in her cheeks and a flutter start in her chest. She swiftly turned her head then rose from the couch.
"Um, I'd better go," she said in a shaky tone. "I've only got 4 & 1/2 hours before I need to get to work."
"Yeah, your boss is a powerful man," he agreed, the tension of the moment weighing on his voice heavily. "Best not to keep him waiting."
Josh slowly stood and escorted Donna to the
door, keeping a safe distance between them.
"He thinks he's powerful," she corrected.
"At least that's what I tell him. You sure you're gonna be all right?"
"Yeah, I'm always fine," he assured her. "You okay driving home?"
"Sure," Donna nodded. "I think a majority the partiers have either passed out or taken a cab."
"So long as you're using logic," he smirked as he opened the door.
"Give me a break, it's 1:30 in the morning," she said as she crossed the threshold.
"It's early still," he said leaning against the frame. "Be careful."
"I will... I'll call you to check in a little later."
"Okay," Josh said as he watched Donna head for the stairs. "Hey, Donna…"
"Yeah?"
"Happy New Year."
Up Next: Chapter 15: