XIII
The pink rubber ball bounced off Toby's nose, knocking him to the floor.
"Score!" crowed Bonnie.
"Stand him up again," Ginger commanded. Bonnie crossed the bullpen to reset the fallen photograph.
"Oh, oh, oh!" Ginger waved them over to the TV, and they all scrambled to join her.
"Aww," they all chorused in unison at the sight of Charlie and Zoey.
"They're so cute." Ed dabbed his eyes.
"It's not fair," grumbled Larry. "I really thought we were gonna get to go, until Josh-"
"Josh!" the room chorused, and Carol handed him a ball. He absently fired it off at the Josh target as he continued.
"-decided that somebody had to stay behind and work on the finance thing."
"It's not fair," Ed agreed. "Like anybody else in the entire world is doing any work today?"
Carol peered out into the corridor. "What are we going to do if the Vice President decides to come down here?" she wondered.
"Remind him about last Thursday's vote. Then point him at the Sam and Toby targets," Bonnie suggest dryly.
"Toby. Grr. Gimme the ball," Ginger demanded.
"Is it me, or is this beginning to lose its entertainment value?" Bonnie sighed.
"This is not entertainment, it's therapy," Larry refuted.
"We have to sit here pretending to run the country, while they get to be off in New Hampshire having a thirty-six hour party," Ed agreed, catching the ball as Ginger tossed it to him and taking aim.
"Hey, what did Sam do?" Ginger wondered as the Deputy Communications Director's photograph plunged off the edge of the table and into the trashcan.
"Well, actually I was aiming for Josh again, but it kinda rebounded," he admitted.
Carol sighed heavily and dangled her feet. "I bet Donna and Margaret are having fun," she said with wistful envy.
"Well, Margaret, yeah, if she can stop worrying about Leo for five minutes. But Donna? Not so much." Bonnie arched a pointed eyebrow.
"Those are quite some bridesmaids' dresses," Ginger agreed wryly.
"And you notice CJ still looked stunning?"
"I hate CJ," Carol grumbled. "You know. In a fond way," she amended off her companions' glances.
"I hate them all," scowled Bonnie.
"Yeah. Evil wedding-going... evil people," Ginger nodded emphatically.
"What are we gonna do now?" Ed wondered, as the muted television footage cut back to the anchors.
"We could steal office supplies," Larry volunteered. Bonnie rolled her eyes.
"We could do that any time," she said dryly.
"I propose a military coup," said Carol.
There was a brief, contemplative silence.
"Nah," said Larry finally.
Ginger started to grin. "I vote we sneak into all their offices and rearrange the furniture. See how long it takes 'em to notice their offices are back-to-front."
"Josh wouldn't notice if his clothes were back-to-front," Bonnie smirked.
"Sam would freak."
She grinned. "Better yet, Sam we could convince we didn't know anything about it."
"'What are you talking about, Sam? Your office was always that way around'," Ginger said in her best innocent tones, and they all giggled.
Bonnie dropped off the desktop to stand up. "Okay, it's a plan! Come on, gals."
"Hey!"
"Sorry, Ed."
"Larry," he corrected.
They all tripped off to work some fully justified mischief.
"Aren't they sweet?" Abbey smiled.
"Positively nauseating," Jed grumbled. She elbowed him surreptitiously.
"Play nice," she admonished.
He shot her a studiously innocent look. "I am the soul of courtesy and bounty," he insisted with a shrug.
"Of course you are."
"I'm the father of the bride - who, by the way, is far too young to be settling down and getting married - I could have chosen to be difficult."
"That's hard to believe," she said dryly.
"It's true."
"My heart is all a-flutter at the thought." She laid her hands over it for emphasis, and unmindful of any audience he leaned in and stole a kiss.
"It's time for me to speak," he reminded her, rifling quickly through his speech notes.
"Try not to put the entire room to sleep, please, honey?"
Jed looked injured, and then paused and considered. "That's not a bad idea. I'm all in favour of sleep."
"In place of other popular activities for newlywed couples?" she teased, just to see his face go purple.
"You're a cruel, cruel woman Abigail Bartlet," he groaned.
"Why do I put up with you?" she asked rhetorically.
"Because I'm sexy as hell, and you love to hear me speak," he said confidently.
"Narcissist."
"You know it's true."
And damned if he wasn't right. Judging by the thickness of the wad of notecards in his hand, he was going to do his level best at making good on his threat. But with the gleam in his eye, and the happy little rumble down in the back of his throat that no amount of complaining could quite disguise, she could have listened to him all night if he was reading a law textbook or a telephone directory.
If only he wasn't so damn cute when he was being unbearably smug.
The president was trying hard to look stern and patriarchal. It only served to heighten the contrast with the delighted grin that CJ could see kept flashing through at the edges.
He stood up and shuffled pages of notes, before giving up and randomly jamming them together. Beside her, Sam made a quietly amused snort. She glanced across for Toby's reaction, but his eyes were on Andy, not the president.
"Some of you here may not know me," he began, to a rumble of good-natured amusement, "but I'm the father of the bride." This was about as far from a hostile crowd as you could get, and today the president's propensity for rambling, bad jokes and veering off the script were nothing for her to care about. "It's my job here to say a few words and - unaccustomed as I am to public speaking-" more chuckles- "I thought I'd give it a shot."
He glanced fondly back at Zoey, looking radiant beside her brand new husband. Her pure white dress and Charlie's dark tuxedo only made the sharp contrast in their skin tones all the stronger; it was a striking image, and one which CJ at least found fittingly powerful in its beauty. She only hoped that the vast majority of Americans could share that impression.
"Now, I could go on and on for a couple of hours about the amazing young lady that used to be Zoey Bartlet and is now Zoey Bartlet-Young, but she'd only end up going pink and crawling under the table. And let me tell you, it only seems like yesterday that she was small enough to walk underneath these tables-"
"Get on with it," called the First Lady with a smirk, and he pointed at her with his glass.
"Heckled, I'm getting heckled by my own wife here," he said mock-sternly as the crowd all grinned. "Very well, I'll skip that piece of quality reminiscing - and believe me, you don't know what you're missing - and move on to the main point of my speech. Which is: I could go on and on about how wonderful my daughters are, but you all know that already." He lowered his brows threateningly. "And if you don't, then we'll be having words." Zoey shook her head at him, still beaming.
"So instead," he smiled softly, "let's talk about Charlie. Charles Bartlet-Young. Now there's a name with a nice bit of gravitas, I think you'll all agree."
CJ had heard the name bandied about; had spoken in herself in press briefings, when it had been established that not only would Zoey be keeping her name as her eldest sister had done, but Charlie would be adopting it. But here, now, knowing that it was really for real, it sent a kind of shiver down her spine. She watched Charlie's expression. It looked closer to tearful than smiling, but she could only imagine the awe and delight that lay beneath it.
"Charlie came to me four years ago, brought to my attention by Joshua Lyman." The president nodded across at him, and CJ tried to catch his eye but he was focused on the president. "He got a place as best man for that; he should have got a medal." He slid one hand into his pocket as he sipped from the glass in the other.
"I asked them to bring me a new personal aide; they brought me far more than that. Charlie's been by my side through good times and bad - hell, these days he sees more of me than my wife-" more laughter, although CJ caught the gentle glance between president and First Lady that acknowledged the truth in the joke - "and I know for a fact he's never wavered in his loyalty to me, or in his love for my daughter. If I had any say in who my daughters chose to spend their lives with - and believe me, I've campaigned for it - I couldn't have picked a better candidate." He smiled at the couple. "And I'd wish perfect happiness on them, but it seems redundant, because all they could ever need to achieve it was the chance to be together. And today, that chance has been realised."
He raised his glass, and drank from it briefly. After he lowered it was silent for a few moments, looking down. His voice, when he spoke, had become subtly more solemn. "I never had any sons," he said softly. "But if I had, I think I would have been a lucky man indeed to hope for one like Charlie. He's a good man, and true, and as noble as anyone I've ever known. I consider my daughter blessed to have him in her life; and myself blessed even to know him."
He twisted away from his audience to lock eyes with his son-in-law. "To welcome him into my family is both a joy and a privilege. Every day I'm confronted with further evidence of his loyalty, compassion and his diligence, and he constantly humbles me with his ability to remain a good man in the most adverse of circumstances." He hesitated for a long beat. "I love him very much. And I hope he'll permit me the honour... of calling myself his father."
CJ was aware of the tears beginning to leak down her face, probably making a mockery of her make-up. That seemed both far away and unimportant as her mind filled with thoughts of her own dearly missed father, and of the terrible things she'd learned of the president's past. And, both less and more than that, just the look on the faces of the two men as they stood regarding each other, united as father and son.
A comforting hand covered hers, and she met Sam's eyes. He looked a question at her, and she offered him a watery smile. "Fathers," was all she said, and he nodded in quiet understanding.
His own mouth was a still line as he turned back to look at the president, and she wondered what he was thinking. His own father had betrayed him, corrupted the ideal of a family in a weakness far too long to ever be termed a 'moment'. And yet...
She heard the president's voice in her head. I miss him. He hated me my whole life... I miss him so much. More complicated. It was always more complicated than just the black and white facts could tell you.
Sam's hand still rested on hers, and she impulsively gave it a squeeze. He turned to look at her, startled, and then flashed her a brilliant grin. She smiled back.
Family.