Part 2/4
***
Toby walked over to the desk, set his papers down with exaggerated care, then
looked over at Josh. "Is it yours?"
"Toby!" Shocked, Josh took a step backward and put his hand over his heart.
"Where'd that come from?"
"The question's not completely out of left field, Josh."
"Like hell it's not!" Josh exclaimed. "That's...that's ridiculous, that's
insane, that's--"
Toby interrupted over the babble of Josh's voice. "You've had a rough time
lately. Amy's out of your life, you're unsure of your footing around the White
House, and in the midst of all this upheaval, you're in constant contact with a
beautiful woman who cares a great deal about you."
Josh was still too stunned to say much. "I can't tell you how wrong you are," he
whispered.
"About what part?"
Putting his hands on his hips, Josh stared Toby down. "About the whole thing,
about anything that could link me in that way with Donna." The words tasted sour
in his mouth. He couldn't continue to look Toby in the eye. "There's never been
anything inappropriate between us."
"She sat on your lap on the way to the inaugural," Toby said, holding up one
finger. He added another finger. "There are pictures of her wearing your coat,
also from the inaugural."
"Yeah, and she's had a key to my apartment since Rosslyn, but that doesn't mean
anything. Hell, you have a key to my apartment - imagine where discussing that
could lead us!"
"Please," Toby said, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and
forefinger, "don't ever feed me a visual like that again."
When Josh laughed, his chest felt tight. "So anyway, the baby's not mine."
"Okay, then," Toby said. He glanced away from Josh and picked up a pencil.
Twirling it idly between his fingers, he asked, "Are you okay with that?"
Toby's question put into words the vague uneasiness Josh had been feeling for
the last half hour. No. Not okay with that, not even a little. He had a sudden
urge to find Jack Reese and tie his--
Josh shook his head. "I don't get to have an opinion one way or the other," he
said softly, trying to keep his voice under control.
"That's crap," Toby replied with a rising inflection. "I know that's crap,
because if Andrea had chosen someone else to father her children, it would have
made me feel...superfluous. Inadequate. Unwanted. All the things that are
written on your face in 48 point font, Josh."
He couldn't stop himself from wiping one hand across his cheek. "I don't feel
any of those things," he said too quickly and too loudly. He expected a retort
from Toby, but there was nothing but silence in the room for several moments.
Finally, Toby sat down on the sofa and nodded at him. "If that's how you want
it."
Josh ran his hand through his hair, every muscle in his body twitching with
unexpressable anger. "It's not how I want it. How could I possibly want to find
Donna having sex with Jack Reese and getting pregnant and having an abortion?
This isn't what I wanted for her." He stopped himself, breathing rapidly,
wishing with all his might that he could grab the words out of the air and
dispose of them.
"For her?" Toby asked gently. "Or for you?"
It hurt too much to talk, so Josh just shrugged and lowered his head.
Toby had the courtesy to look away while Josh collected his thoughts. "She's
going to need to sit down with CJ," Toby said, almost apologetically, "so they
can make make sure this stays quiet. If you don't think it's something you can
manage, then I'll--"
"Nah, I'll do it," Josh said, trying to sound nonchalant even though he really
hadn't seen this coming. "I'll talk to her later on. She's pretty pissed right
now."
"CJ's going to be none too happy, either," Toby commented. "Although she's the
least of your worries right now."
Josh sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Any time CJ's the least of our
worries, we're having a pretty bad time of it."
A hint of a smile brightened Toby's features. "That's true," he murmured.
"Better you than me."
"It'll be your turn soon enough."
"It's never my turn," Toby countered, setting his pen down and folding his hands
in his lap. "I am always in CJ's good graces." The almost-smile faded and he
looked straight at Josh. "For what it's worth, Josh, I'm sorry."
There it was again, the unbidden, lead weight in his chest. "Thanks," Josh
managed to say as he struggled for air, then he left Toby's office without
another word.
***
Will thought that a time might come when the anteroom to the Oval Office would
not conjure up the horror of his first Presidential encounter. The very sight of
Debbie Fiderer's desk was enough to make his palms go clammy. When the office
door opened, he always found that his tongue was trying very, very hard to stick
to the roof of his mouth. Maybe this time would be different.
Charlie opened the door and exited with a young woman at his side. Will tested
his body's responses. Hands, so wet they have to be surreptitiously wiped: yes.
Tongue, glued to hard palate: yes. Working his jaw from side to side, Will
nodded at Charlie, who pulled his companion forward. "Will, this is my sister,
Deanna. This is Will Bailey - he works for the Vice-President."
Deanna was half a head taller than Charlie. She moved her whippet-thin body with
the ease of a natural athlete; Will recalled hearing that she was going to
college on a basketball scholarship. "Nice to meet you," he said, hoping his
hand was passably dry as he extended it to be shaken.
The answering grip was firm, with no sign of Presidential Flameout Moisture.
Even this teenaged girl was unfazed. She smiled down at Will. "I've heard about
you. You're the guy who's gonna get Bingo Bob elected in four years. Has Toby
stopped sticking pins in your voodoo doll yet?"
"Not so you'd notice," Will sighed, although he noted with amusement that
Charlie elbowed his sister for the "Bingo Bob" sobriquet. "But thanks for
asking. Eventually he'll get over it. Or run out of pins."
"Don't bet on it. He's still ticked at me over a game of horse from two years
ago."
"My little sister kicks ass," Charlie said mildly. He looked proud of her, but
there was something else on his mind, something that made his eyes look sad and
tired. "Anyway, the President's on the phone with the Chinese ambassador and he
asked me to have you call Debbie later to reschedule. Sorry you came all the way
over here."
"From the OEOB? Not a problem." He hesitated for a moment before asking, "Is
there something going on with Bernard Ritenour? I mean, feel free to tell me to
mind my own business, but it just seems as if..." He couldn't put his finger on
it.
Charlie and Deanna exchanged glances. "Will's a good guy," Charlie told her,
sotto voce, and Deanna nodded in response. "I don't want to talk out here. Can
we use Josh's office?"
"Where's Josh?" Will asked.
"Roosevelt Room, talking to a group of students from Idaho." Charlie led the
way, Deanna loping gracefully alongside while Will took up the rear.
"He's still being punished?" Putting Josh in a room full of teenagers was just
this side of cruel.
"It's hard to say," Charlie said as he went into Josh's office. "Some might
think that it was the Idaho group being punished, if you get my drift."
"I think I do." Will stood against the bookcase, not wanting to commit the sin
of taking Josh's chair. "So."
"So," Charlie parroted. "You know about Ritenour, right? I mean, our connection
to him?"
Will pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose and nodded. He had been
eight when his mother died, but that was through illness, not violence, and he
wasn't left to fend for anyone. He couldn't imagine Charlie's life, or Deanna's,
in those first months. "I've heard he wants to see you."
"Right." Deanna's voice was sharp, louder than it really needed to be in this
little office. "President Bartlet wanted to weigh in on the situation."
"Which is surprising," Charlie offered before Will could ask the question,
"because he's not usually that involved. With us."
"May I ask what his opinion was?"
"He agrees with Charlie," Deanna said, rolling her eyes. "That we should go
visit him, but that we shouldn't witness the execution."
"Whereas Deanna wants to do both. She wants to tell him off, then she wants to
watch the actual event." Charlie folded his arms. "I'm willing to meet with the
guy, let him apologize, whatever. But this other thing, well, I don't know." He
looked at Will. "What's your take on it?"
Will shrugged. "I'm not completely sure what to say." He stopped, mulling the
story over in his mind, then decided to tell them. "I saw an execution when I
was in Zimbabwe - it was still called Rhodesia, back then - with my parents."
Deanna's mouth hung open. "You saw an execution? When you were a kid?"
"It's not like we were invited - we were walking down a road from an
ambassador's house, and a man was being hanged from a tree, right there. The
interpreter who was traveling with us said it was a murder case, although I
don't remember who had been killed. But I remember the fear in the condemned
man's eyes and the way the people swarmed around him, throwing dirt and rocks
and screaming at him until the moment his body stopped jerking."
He paused, surprised that his hands were describing the scene in mid-air. "Then
it was just...silent. He was alive, then he was dead, and nothing really
changed. People turned around and walked the same direction we were going, as if
nothing happened." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. When
he opened them again, he took in Deanna's angry face and Charlie's indecisive
posture. "It was more horrible than you can imagine. Not just the taking of a
human life, but because the people who saw it weren't changed by it at all."
"Except you," Charlie said softly. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have remembered it
all these years. I'm afraid of what it would do to me."
"You don't have to go!" Deanna's shrill declaration startled Will. "I don't need
you to go and hold my hand. You're not my protector, not anymore."
Charlie shook his head. "It's not about that. I just think that we need to
present a unified front - either we both talk to him, or neither. Either we both
go see the execution, or neither of us does. That's the bottom line for me."
"Bottom line for me is that this man killed our mother in cold blood. He very
nearly destroyed our lives!" Her hands flailed as if she needed her entire body
to express her outrage. "He's going to die whether we go or not. I say we get
closure. I say we watch the state be a hell of a lot more merciful with him than
he was with Mom!" Suddenly she grabbed Charlie's arm and held tightly to it.
"Don't you understand? I have to see him die!"
Charlie freed himself from her grasp and wrapped his arms around her. "Dee, I do
understand. Really, I do. But it won't bring her back."
"He's right," Will added softly, wishing he knew these people well enough to be
more comfort to them.
Deanna shook her head, pulling away from her brother's embrace. "I'm not a
child, guys. You think I believe that Ritenour's death will bring my mother
back? Of course I don't. Nothing can bring her back, but by God I'll at least
have the satisfaction of seeing that bastard's last breath."
There didn't seem to be anything to say about that, at least on Will's part.
Charlie was looking at Deanna as if seeing something deep inside of her that was
only now becoming visible. He lowered his head, sighing. "If this is really what
you need, then I'll do it. I just don't want you to feel, later on..." He
trailed off, glancing at Will for backup.
This wasn't his argument, wasn't anything close to any situation he could
imagine for his family. Nonetheless, he had to try. Stepping closer, he said, "I
think Charlie's afraid that, later on, you might see yourself as being an
instrument of a murder."
Whatever Deanna's retort would have been was lost when Josh walked into the
office. "What's going on?" he asked, although by the half-undone tie and wild
hair, it was obvious that he was not really going to listen to any answer.
"We're just borrowing a space. We're done," Charlie said, abruptly taking Deanna
by the hand and pulling her out of the room.
Josh turned his head as they passed, then looked back at Will. "This is about
Ritenour, isn't it?"
"Yes." Will took his glasses off and moved his head from side to side, loosening
the muscles in his neck. "It's a tricky situation. The sister is set on going,
but Charlie finds it...distasteful."
"I'll talk to him later," Josh said, already looking back out into the bullpen.
"Hey, if you see Donna out there, would you tell her--there she is."
Will braced himself for the inevitable bellow, but it didn't come. Instead, Josh
walked over to Donna's desk and quietly asked her to go into his office. If he
had not been so concerned for Charlie, Will would have thought the situation
odd. Instead, he gave them a small wave before starting back to the OEOB.
***
Donna looked as uncomfortable as Josh felt. She hovered near the closed door as
if she might bolt at the first wrong word.
And Josh knew that almost any of his words, right now, would probably be wrong.
"Angela Blake," he began, fidgeting with his watch as he spoke, "was incredibly
impressed with you. She's making sure you get a lot of credit. Which has to be a
nice change from what I usually do." He felt lightheaded with nerves, nerves
that were fraying even more because Donna was not bantering with him. On the
other hand, could he really expect that of her at a time like this?
"Josh, I have about a million things--"
He cut her off, unable to bear the unaccustomed dullness in her voice. "She's
putting you into a higher profile than you're used to having. I don't think you
know how much buzz there is about you right now."
Donna didn't ask for a raise. She just stood there, arms crossed, head lowered.
Josh wondered if it were possible to run out of saliva.
"Anyway, with the new interest in you and the high profile that's creating, Toby
and I think you should talk to CJ." He took a breath when Donna did not respond.
"About, you know, the thing."
"The...thing?" Donna repeated, incredulity creeping into her voice. "You talked
about it with Toby?"
"Yeah." He rubbed his forehead. "Look, that's probably something you should kick
me around for later, but right now, you need to talk to CJ about the best way to
handle the, uh, situation."
A flush worked its way up Donna's pallid face. "You don't mean to tell me that
the press would...at a time like this?"
He had never wanted so badly to take her in his arms and protect her from the
universe. Instead, he reached out and put his hand on her arm. "It's exactly at
a time like this when the press would strike, Donna."
She hunched further over, clearly fighting back tears. She put two fingers
against her lips and lowered her head until her hair obscured her face. "I hate
to say it," she whispered, "but you're right."
Josh knew that he would personally scrape the ink off every copy of every
newspaper, if need be, or hold Danny Concannon upside down from the Truman
Balcony. That image cheered him enough to open the door and say, "Let's go talk
to CJ."
Donna let him walk with her, but at the door to CJ's office she shook her head.
"You can't come in here."
"Why the hell not? It's not like you've got a secret from me!" His indignation
was tamped down when he looked at Donna's pained, embarrassed eyes. "Oh. Girl
stuff."
"Very much so." She was already sounding like Donna again, enough for Josh to
feel safe in leaving her with CJ.
Slowly, aimlessly, he went back to his office to compose a note of apology for
the teacher whose students he had just badgered. He made it as far as "Dear Mr.
Altick: You are to be commended for shepherding such a large number of morons
this far without losing any," when his phone rang.
"Josh Lyman," he said as he fumbled with the receiver with one hand and tossed
his note away with the other.
Carol's voice was crisp on the other end of the line. "CJ would like to see you.
Now would be good."
"What did I - never mind." He hung up and walked briskly back to CJ's office.
Donna was talking softly to Carol, who had her arm around her shoulders. "How'd
it--"
Donna, her face pale but composed, brushed past Josh without a word. "CJ wants
to see me?" he asked Carol, feeling his heart begin to race.
"Oh, absolutely," Carol grumbled, cocking her eyebrow at him with a malevolence
he had not seen in years. "You are absolutely right about that. Go on in."
Josh entered, coiled with anxiety, tapping his hands together as CJ finished a
phone call. She seemed to loom over him, even with a desk between them.
"Yes. Check on that and get back to me. Thanks." She strode over to Josh,
unsmiling. "About an hour ago, Toby called me and said Donna needed to see me
before having an abortion," she said. "And you sent her in to me."
"How'd it go?" he asked, only to find himself crying out in sudden pain as CJ's
clipboard collided with his head. "Ow!"
"You're a pig," she snapped.
"I'm a what?"
"Pig. Jackass. Any number of farm animals noteworthy for their obstinance and/or
stupidity." She took a breath. "She's not having an abortion, Josh."
"She's not?" he sighed. The world snapped back into focus for him. "That's a
relief."
"It really isn't."
"It's not a relief that she's not pregnant?"
CJ's expression softened. "Not as much as you'd think." She set the clipboard
down on her desk and inclined her head toward him. "Come here."
Despite the sore spot on his head, Josh inched closer. Any relief he had been
feeling turned back into apprehension when CJ stroked the back of his hand.
"God, CJ, did she have a miscarriage? What happened?"
"It's more complicated than that. So I need you not to go completely off the
rails right now, okay?"
He couldn't speak. He nodded and waited for the blow.
"Donna's going to have some exploratory surgery on Monday." Compassion and worry
played across her fine features as she let Josh process the information. Her
hand tightened around his.
"There's a lump in her breast."
***
End Part 2/4
Feedback is welcome at marguerite@swbell.net or Marguerite@operamail.com.
***
Toby walked over to the desk, set his papers down with exaggerated care, then
looked over at Josh. "Is it yours?"
"Toby!" Shocked, Josh took a step backward and put his hand over his heart.
"Where'd that come from?"
"The question's not completely out of left field, Josh."
"Like hell it's not!" Josh exclaimed. "That's...that's ridiculous, that's
insane, that's--"
Toby interrupted over the babble of Josh's voice. "You've had a rough time
lately. Amy's out of your life, you're unsure of your footing around the White
House, and in the midst of all this upheaval, you're in constant contact with a
beautiful woman who cares a great deal about you."
Josh was still too stunned to say much. "I can't tell you how wrong you are," he
whispered.
"About what part?"
Putting his hands on his hips, Josh stared Toby down. "About the whole thing,
about anything that could link me in that way with Donna." The words tasted sour
in his mouth. He couldn't continue to look Toby in the eye. "There's never been
anything inappropriate between us."
"She sat on your lap on the way to the inaugural," Toby said, holding up one
finger. He added another finger. "There are pictures of her wearing your coat,
also from the inaugural."
"Yeah, and she's had a key to my apartment since Rosslyn, but that doesn't mean
anything. Hell, you have a key to my apartment - imagine where discussing that
could lead us!"
"Please," Toby said, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and
forefinger, "don't ever feed me a visual like that again."
When Josh laughed, his chest felt tight. "So anyway, the baby's not mine."
"Okay, then," Toby said. He glanced away from Josh and picked up a pencil.
Twirling it idly between his fingers, he asked, "Are you okay with that?"
Toby's question put into words the vague uneasiness Josh had been feeling for
the last half hour. No. Not okay with that, not even a little. He had a sudden
urge to find Jack Reese and tie his--
Josh shook his head. "I don't get to have an opinion one way or the other," he
said softly, trying to keep his voice under control.
"That's crap," Toby replied with a rising inflection. "I know that's crap,
because if Andrea had chosen someone else to father her children, it would have
made me feel...superfluous. Inadequate. Unwanted. All the things that are
written on your face in 48 point font, Josh."
He couldn't stop himself from wiping one hand across his cheek. "I don't feel
any of those things," he said too quickly and too loudly. He expected a retort
from Toby, but there was nothing but silence in the room for several moments.
Finally, Toby sat down on the sofa and nodded at him. "If that's how you want
it."
Josh ran his hand through his hair, every muscle in his body twitching with
unexpressable anger. "It's not how I want it. How could I possibly want to find
Donna having sex with Jack Reese and getting pregnant and having an abortion?
This isn't what I wanted for her." He stopped himself, breathing rapidly,
wishing with all his might that he could grab the words out of the air and
dispose of them.
"For her?" Toby asked gently. "Or for you?"
It hurt too much to talk, so Josh just shrugged and lowered his head.
Toby had the courtesy to look away while Josh collected his thoughts. "She's
going to need to sit down with CJ," Toby said, almost apologetically, "so they
can make make sure this stays quiet. If you don't think it's something you can
manage, then I'll--"
"Nah, I'll do it," Josh said, trying to sound nonchalant even though he really
hadn't seen this coming. "I'll talk to her later on. She's pretty pissed right
now."
"CJ's going to be none too happy, either," Toby commented. "Although she's the
least of your worries right now."
Josh sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Any time CJ's the least of our
worries, we're having a pretty bad time of it."
A hint of a smile brightened Toby's features. "That's true," he murmured.
"Better you than me."
"It'll be your turn soon enough."
"It's never my turn," Toby countered, setting his pen down and folding his hands
in his lap. "I am always in CJ's good graces." The almost-smile faded and he
looked straight at Josh. "For what it's worth, Josh, I'm sorry."
There it was again, the unbidden, lead weight in his chest. "Thanks," Josh
managed to say as he struggled for air, then he left Toby's office without
another word.
***
Will thought that a time might come when the anteroom to the Oval Office would
not conjure up the horror of his first Presidential encounter. The very sight of
Debbie Fiderer's desk was enough to make his palms go clammy. When the office
door opened, he always found that his tongue was trying very, very hard to stick
to the roof of his mouth. Maybe this time would be different.
Charlie opened the door and exited with a young woman at his side. Will tested
his body's responses. Hands, so wet they have to be surreptitiously wiped: yes.
Tongue, glued to hard palate: yes. Working his jaw from side to side, Will
nodded at Charlie, who pulled his companion forward. "Will, this is my sister,
Deanna. This is Will Bailey - he works for the Vice-President."
Deanna was half a head taller than Charlie. She moved her whippet-thin body with
the ease of a natural athlete; Will recalled hearing that she was going to
college on a basketball scholarship. "Nice to meet you," he said, hoping his
hand was passably dry as he extended it to be shaken.
The answering grip was firm, with no sign of Presidential Flameout Moisture.
Even this teenaged girl was unfazed. She smiled down at Will. "I've heard about
you. You're the guy who's gonna get Bingo Bob elected in four years. Has Toby
stopped sticking pins in your voodoo doll yet?"
"Not so you'd notice," Will sighed, although he noted with amusement that
Charlie elbowed his sister for the "Bingo Bob" sobriquet. "But thanks for
asking. Eventually he'll get over it. Or run out of pins."
"Don't bet on it. He's still ticked at me over a game of horse from two years
ago."
"My little sister kicks ass," Charlie said mildly. He looked proud of her, but
there was something else on his mind, something that made his eyes look sad and
tired. "Anyway, the President's on the phone with the Chinese ambassador and he
asked me to have you call Debbie later to reschedule. Sorry you came all the way
over here."
"From the OEOB? Not a problem." He hesitated for a moment before asking, "Is
there something going on with Bernard Ritenour? I mean, feel free to tell me to
mind my own business, but it just seems as if..." He couldn't put his finger on
it.
Charlie and Deanna exchanged glances. "Will's a good guy," Charlie told her,
sotto voce, and Deanna nodded in response. "I don't want to talk out here. Can
we use Josh's office?"
"Where's Josh?" Will asked.
"Roosevelt Room, talking to a group of students from Idaho." Charlie led the
way, Deanna loping gracefully alongside while Will took up the rear.
"He's still being punished?" Putting Josh in a room full of teenagers was just
this side of cruel.
"It's hard to say," Charlie said as he went into Josh's office. "Some might
think that it was the Idaho group being punished, if you get my drift."
"I think I do." Will stood against the bookcase, not wanting to commit the sin
of taking Josh's chair. "So."
"So," Charlie parroted. "You know about Ritenour, right? I mean, our connection
to him?"
Will pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose and nodded. He had been
eight when his mother died, but that was through illness, not violence, and he
wasn't left to fend for anyone. He couldn't imagine Charlie's life, or Deanna's,
in those first months. "I've heard he wants to see you."
"Right." Deanna's voice was sharp, louder than it really needed to be in this
little office. "President Bartlet wanted to weigh in on the situation."
"Which is surprising," Charlie offered before Will could ask the question,
"because he's not usually that involved. With us."
"May I ask what his opinion was?"
"He agrees with Charlie," Deanna said, rolling her eyes. "That we should go
visit him, but that we shouldn't witness the execution."
"Whereas Deanna wants to do both. She wants to tell him off, then she wants to
watch the actual event." Charlie folded his arms. "I'm willing to meet with the
guy, let him apologize, whatever. But this other thing, well, I don't know." He
looked at Will. "What's your take on it?"
Will shrugged. "I'm not completely sure what to say." He stopped, mulling the
story over in his mind, then decided to tell them. "I saw an execution when I
was in Zimbabwe - it was still called Rhodesia, back then - with my parents."
Deanna's mouth hung open. "You saw an execution? When you were a kid?"
"It's not like we were invited - we were walking down a road from an
ambassador's house, and a man was being hanged from a tree, right there. The
interpreter who was traveling with us said it was a murder case, although I
don't remember who had been killed. But I remember the fear in the condemned
man's eyes and the way the people swarmed around him, throwing dirt and rocks
and screaming at him until the moment his body stopped jerking."
He paused, surprised that his hands were describing the scene in mid-air. "Then
it was just...silent. He was alive, then he was dead, and nothing really
changed. People turned around and walked the same direction we were going, as if
nothing happened." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. When
he opened them again, he took in Deanna's angry face and Charlie's indecisive
posture. "It was more horrible than you can imagine. Not just the taking of a
human life, but because the people who saw it weren't changed by it at all."
"Except you," Charlie said softly. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have remembered it
all these years. I'm afraid of what it would do to me."
"You don't have to go!" Deanna's shrill declaration startled Will. "I don't need
you to go and hold my hand. You're not my protector, not anymore."
Charlie shook his head. "It's not about that. I just think that we need to
present a unified front - either we both talk to him, or neither. Either we both
go see the execution, or neither of us does. That's the bottom line for me."
"Bottom line for me is that this man killed our mother in cold blood. He very
nearly destroyed our lives!" Her hands flailed as if she needed her entire body
to express her outrage. "He's going to die whether we go or not. I say we get
closure. I say we watch the state be a hell of a lot more merciful with him than
he was with Mom!" Suddenly she grabbed Charlie's arm and held tightly to it.
"Don't you understand? I have to see him die!"
Charlie freed himself from her grasp and wrapped his arms around her. "Dee, I do
understand. Really, I do. But it won't bring her back."
"He's right," Will added softly, wishing he knew these people well enough to be
more comfort to them.
Deanna shook her head, pulling away from her brother's embrace. "I'm not a
child, guys. You think I believe that Ritenour's death will bring my mother
back? Of course I don't. Nothing can bring her back, but by God I'll at least
have the satisfaction of seeing that bastard's last breath."
There didn't seem to be anything to say about that, at least on Will's part.
Charlie was looking at Deanna as if seeing something deep inside of her that was
only now becoming visible. He lowered his head, sighing. "If this is really what
you need, then I'll do it. I just don't want you to feel, later on..." He
trailed off, glancing at Will for backup.
This wasn't his argument, wasn't anything close to any situation he could
imagine for his family. Nonetheless, he had to try. Stepping closer, he said, "I
think Charlie's afraid that, later on, you might see yourself as being an
instrument of a murder."
Whatever Deanna's retort would have been was lost when Josh walked into the
office. "What's going on?" he asked, although by the half-undone tie and wild
hair, it was obvious that he was not really going to listen to any answer.
"We're just borrowing a space. We're done," Charlie said, abruptly taking Deanna
by the hand and pulling her out of the room.
Josh turned his head as they passed, then looked back at Will. "This is about
Ritenour, isn't it?"
"Yes." Will took his glasses off and moved his head from side to side, loosening
the muscles in his neck. "It's a tricky situation. The sister is set on going,
but Charlie finds it...distasteful."
"I'll talk to him later," Josh said, already looking back out into the bullpen.
"Hey, if you see Donna out there, would you tell her--there she is."
Will braced himself for the inevitable bellow, but it didn't come. Instead, Josh
walked over to Donna's desk and quietly asked her to go into his office. If he
had not been so concerned for Charlie, Will would have thought the situation
odd. Instead, he gave them a small wave before starting back to the OEOB.
***
Donna looked as uncomfortable as Josh felt. She hovered near the closed door as
if she might bolt at the first wrong word.
And Josh knew that almost any of his words, right now, would probably be wrong.
"Angela Blake," he began, fidgeting with his watch as he spoke, "was incredibly
impressed with you. She's making sure you get a lot of credit. Which has to be a
nice change from what I usually do." He felt lightheaded with nerves, nerves
that were fraying even more because Donna was not bantering with him. On the
other hand, could he really expect that of her at a time like this?
"Josh, I have about a million things--"
He cut her off, unable to bear the unaccustomed dullness in her voice. "She's
putting you into a higher profile than you're used to having. I don't think you
know how much buzz there is about you right now."
Donna didn't ask for a raise. She just stood there, arms crossed, head lowered.
Josh wondered if it were possible to run out of saliva.
"Anyway, with the new interest in you and the high profile that's creating, Toby
and I think you should talk to CJ." He took a breath when Donna did not respond.
"About, you know, the thing."
"The...thing?" Donna repeated, incredulity creeping into her voice. "You talked
about it with Toby?"
"Yeah." He rubbed his forehead. "Look, that's probably something you should kick
me around for later, but right now, you need to talk to CJ about the best way to
handle the, uh, situation."
A flush worked its way up Donna's pallid face. "You don't mean to tell me that
the press would...at a time like this?"
He had never wanted so badly to take her in his arms and protect her from the
universe. Instead, he reached out and put his hand on her arm. "It's exactly at
a time like this when the press would strike, Donna."
She hunched further over, clearly fighting back tears. She put two fingers
against her lips and lowered her head until her hair obscured her face. "I hate
to say it," she whispered, "but you're right."
Josh knew that he would personally scrape the ink off every copy of every
newspaper, if need be, or hold Danny Concannon upside down from the Truman
Balcony. That image cheered him enough to open the door and say, "Let's go talk
to CJ."
Donna let him walk with her, but at the door to CJ's office she shook her head.
"You can't come in here."
"Why the hell not? It's not like you've got a secret from me!" His indignation
was tamped down when he looked at Donna's pained, embarrassed eyes. "Oh. Girl
stuff."
"Very much so." She was already sounding like Donna again, enough for Josh to
feel safe in leaving her with CJ.
Slowly, aimlessly, he went back to his office to compose a note of apology for
the teacher whose students he had just badgered. He made it as far as "Dear Mr.
Altick: You are to be commended for shepherding such a large number of morons
this far without losing any," when his phone rang.
"Josh Lyman," he said as he fumbled with the receiver with one hand and tossed
his note away with the other.
Carol's voice was crisp on the other end of the line. "CJ would like to see you.
Now would be good."
"What did I - never mind." He hung up and walked briskly back to CJ's office.
Donna was talking softly to Carol, who had her arm around her shoulders. "How'd
it--"
Donna, her face pale but composed, brushed past Josh without a word. "CJ wants
to see me?" he asked Carol, feeling his heart begin to race.
"Oh, absolutely," Carol grumbled, cocking her eyebrow at him with a malevolence
he had not seen in years. "You are absolutely right about that. Go on in."
Josh entered, coiled with anxiety, tapping his hands together as CJ finished a
phone call. She seemed to loom over him, even with a desk between them.
"Yes. Check on that and get back to me. Thanks." She strode over to Josh,
unsmiling. "About an hour ago, Toby called me and said Donna needed to see me
before having an abortion," she said. "And you sent her in to me."
"How'd it go?" he asked, only to find himself crying out in sudden pain as CJ's
clipboard collided with his head. "Ow!"
"You're a pig," she snapped.
"I'm a what?"
"Pig. Jackass. Any number of farm animals noteworthy for their obstinance and/or
stupidity." She took a breath. "She's not having an abortion, Josh."
"She's not?" he sighed. The world snapped back into focus for him. "That's a
relief."
"It really isn't."
"It's not a relief that she's not pregnant?"
CJ's expression softened. "Not as much as you'd think." She set the clipboard
down on her desk and inclined her head toward him. "Come here."
Despite the sore spot on his head, Josh inched closer. Any relief he had been
feeling turned back into apprehension when CJ stroked the back of his hand.
"God, CJ, did she have a miscarriage? What happened?"
"It's more complicated than that. So I need you not to go completely off the
rails right now, okay?"
He couldn't speak. He nodded and waited for the blow.
"Donna's going to have some exploratory surgery on Monday." Compassion and worry
played across her fine features as she let Josh process the information. Her
hand tightened around his.
"There's a lump in her breast."
***
End Part 2/4
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