Pt. 2
Boy, am I stupid. I know we've already determined this, but I think it bears repeating. Here I am, chasing Donna through the streets of Virginia, and the main thought running through my mind is that I am in fact, stupid.
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I'm chasing her through the streets because of the accidentally calling her a whore thing. Oh no, my friend, you've underestimated my ability to make things worse.
See, I was driving, chasing Donna, when I realized what I had said and how it had been taken, and it occurred to me that this was a simple fix. I just had to call her and explain. I mean, it was just a misunderstanding. So, I called her. And being that I was directly behind her, I could clearly see her look down at her phone. At that point, she must've hit answer followed immediately by end, because the phone just stopped ringing. So I tried again. And again, I got the same result. And that's when I thought to myself, you've got to be pretty damn mad if you won't even let the person you're pissed at talk to your voice mail. Right?
So my next thought was to try to get her to pull over. That seemed to make sense to me in my hung-over, my life is ending because my assistant and love of my life is leaving me state of mind. At the next light, I pulled up next to Donna, rolled down my passenger window, thank God for power windows, and proceeded to scream her name as loudly as I possibly could. A few seconds later, she looked to her left and saw me, and her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Apparently, she didn't know I was following her. I began using the universal "roll down your window" sign, you know the one, but she just narrowed her eyes at me, which scares me a little bit, and faced forward again. Then she must've turned her radio up as loud as it goes, because I could feel the pounding bass all the way in my car. And let me just say this, Donna doesn't fit into the pumping bass stereotype.
It's also worth mentioning that when she looked at me, she wasn't crying. I kind of expected that she would be. I mean, I asked if she was tempted. That couldn't have sounded good. But no, she had not shed a single tear. What I saw in her face was…well, rage. I imagined that this was the look she gave Freeride when she figured out he'd been drinking with his friends instead of picking her up at the hospital. I imagined that she had this look the entire time she packed her things and for a good portion of the drive back to New Hampshire. I imagined that it was that same rage that gave her the courage to come back to me even though I might have told her to go to hell. I mean back to the campaign.
Anyway, I tried the same thing at the next light, with the same results. When that light turned green, she continued, but took a left at the next corner, which meant she was no longer heading for home. Having no idea where we were going, I tried getting her attention once again at the third light. That time, she waited until I was next to her, and then she took off through the red light. Through the red light, people. At this point I had a problem. Now that I had no idea where she was going, I couldn't lose her. So, I looked both ways and sped through the red light myself to keep up with her. I called her cell again and this time she picked up. "Drop dead," was all she said before disconnecting again, but seeing as she actually spoke, I took it as a good sign.
It was right about the time we were crossing the Potomac River and heading into Virginia that I decided I needed help. I needed someone to tell her it was a mistake, so she would calm down enough to hear me out. My first thought was CJ. That thought quickly dissipated. CJ would no doubt kill me rather than help me. If I explained to CJ that I was chasing my assistant, whom I had sexually harassed, through Virginia, well… let's just say that she'd probably have a pace car next to Donna helping her re-fuel, and giving her food and water.
No, it couldn't be CJ. In fact, if I didn't want to have to explain what had happened, there was only one choice. I knew of only one person who wouldn't ask questions; not out of a respect for privacy, mind you, but because he wouldn't give a damn. So, I called him.
"lo…"
"Toby, I need a favor." As I said this, Donna took a hard left, followed by a hard right into a housing addition. She was trying to lose me!
"Well, considering that I'm at the White House working on wording for the Fair Equities Act, which you're supposed to be helping with, I'd say I'm already doing you a favor."
He had a valid point. "I'm going to need a second favor then."
"Fine. I also took the call from Baker you were supposed to take."
Shit. "Ok; a third favor." He didn't respond and I thought for a minute that he had hung up. "Toby?"
"I'm waiting."
"Right. I need you to call Donna." Another right. Another right. A quick left, left, left right, to put us back on the same street we were on two minutes ago.
"And?" he asked calmly.
"Tell her that I thought Congressman Allen was offering her a job."
"What?"
"Just call Donna on her cell and tell her that I thought he was offering her a job."
He sighed loudly, making sure I knew that he thought he was above all of this. "And she'll know what I'm talking about?"
"Yes." We exited the housing addition and started driving on a typical city street. She took a left from a straight lane, but I was able to make the switch and turn just as the light turned red. Bring it on, Moss!
"Ok."
"Ok?" Just like that, I thought? He wasn't even going to say no and make me beg?
"Ok," he said. He must have been too busy to argue.
"You're just going to do it, no questions asked?"
"Do you want me to feign interest?"
"Just call me back when you're done."
"Whatever." And he hung up.
At that point, I started feeling better. He would tell her I thought it was a job offer and she would call me, probably a little confused, and I could explain it to her. After all, deep down, Donna would never believe I meant that stuff.
However, all positive thoughts ended about forty-five seconds later, when my cell rang. "What happened?"
"She hung up."
"But you told her?" I figured as long as he got the words out, she might be pissed, but she'd think about it and call me eventually.
"No."
"No?" I squeaked.
"Are you hard of hearing?"
At this point, we entered a mall parking lot, which is a great place to lose someone. I was impressed. "Why didn't you tell her?"
"All I got out was 'Josh asked me to tell you', and she hung up."
"You weren't supposed to say that!" I screamed.
"What?"
"You were just supposed to say it. Not 'Josh asked me to'. For crying out loud, Toby, can't you follow directions?"
"I wasn't aware you had done something so horrible that it would warrant her hanging up the phone at the mere mention of your name."
"Well, you should have assumed! Now what?"
"I can call her back," he said, his voice holding a hint of amusement at my expense.
"She won't answer a call from you again."
"I know," he said, with even more amusement, and I hung up.
After that, I panicked for a while and tried concentrated on the road. We weren't driving like maniacs, but Donna definitely wasn't obeying all the traffic laws. A few minutes later, I called her again. That time, when she picked up, she simply said, "Leave me the hell alone," before disconnecting.
At that point, I started making a mental list. I needed help from someone who Donna would listen to. Someone she trusted, someone who she knows wouldn't lie to her for me, someone who would listen to reason and do what's best for the both of us. Sam, Leo, the President, the Starbuck's guy, Margaret? Someone could get through to her, right?
Sam was the next logical choice. But when I called him, he didn't answer. He and I are going to have to have a talk about him being readily accessible to me at all times. We've had that discussion before, but obviously he didn't listen. I quickly deleted Leo and the President off the list for fear of being fired at telling them that I had sexually harassed Donna and was now chasing her through Virginia because I'm in love with her and can't fathom losing her. The Starbuck's guy was the next to go because I'm pretty sure he wants Donna and therefore, I don't think he'd be on my side. Margaret seemed like a good choice until I remembered that she was a busy-body, and ten minutes after I called her, everyone in the White House would know the whole sorted tale, including Leo, CJ, and the President, which just leads us back to the pace car, firing thing.
That's when I sucked it up and called the only person left I could think of. Someone Donna adores, trusts, and relates with. Someone who likes Donna more than me and wouldn't sugar coat it. Someone who knows I need help in areas like this and knows I would never do anything to hurt Donna.
"Hello?"
"Mom, I need some help."
"Well, I'm wonderful, Son. How are you?"
"I've been better, I really fucked up."
"Joshua…"
"Sorry." And I was sorry, but I wasn't thinking clearly.
"Language like that is unacceptable."
"Yes, ma'am," I replied like a nine year-old. Oh, to be nine again.
"Now tell me what you've done."
"I accidentally called Donna a prostitute," I mumbled very quietly and very quickly.
"What?" she yelled into the phone.
"It was an accident!"
She took a deep breath. "How do you accidentally call someone a prostitute?"
"It doesn't matter. I need you to help me fix it."
"It does matter. I'm not fixing something for you if you don't deserve to have it fixed."
"Fine," I growled. "She had a date last night, but I thought the guy was just offering her a job. So when she came in this morning, I asked how much he offered for her services and if she was tempted to accept the offer."
"Joshua!"
"I was talking about a job!"
"And did you explain that to her?"
"I tried, but she left the White House and she won't take my calls and I'm following her, but she won't pull over and we've been driving for almost two hours now."
"You're following her in your car?" she asked like I was some stalker lunatic.
"I said I needed help, didn't I?"
"You've really fucked up."
"Mother!" I nearly drove off the road when she said that.
"Well, I'm sorry, but you have." And that's when you know things have hit rock bottom. When you're mother uses the f-word.
"Are you going to help me?"
"Are you going to tell her how you feel?"
I was reduced to running my hands through my hair. "Yes."
"Today?"
"No."
"Then I'm not helping." Yes, my mother was blackmailing me.
"But, Mom…" I started whining.
"You need to tell her."
I took a deep breath and tried to explain things clearly to her. "If you don't help, I'm never going to have the opportunity to tell her."
"I want grandchildren, Joshua." Thank goodness I was at a red light for this sentence, because I felt the need to bang my head repeatedly against the steering wheel.
"I know you do."
"All of my friends have grandchildren, Joshua."
"I know they do." I've heard. Many times.
"Vicki has a great grandchild on the way."
"Could we not talk about this now?"
"We'll table it, but we're not dismissing it."
"I have no doubts."
"I need grandchildren," she said sternly.
"Need?" She was remaining calm, but I was beginning to freak-out.
"Do you want my help or not?"
"Yes, please," I said desperately.
"Ok, what do you want me to do?"
"You've got to call her and tell her that I thought it was a job offer. She won't talk to me on the phone."
"Ok."
"But, you can't tell her I told you to call. Toby just mentioned my name and she hung up on him."
"She won't hang up on me, Dear."
"You can't mess this up, Mom. You're my only hope."
"I'll take care of it. And you won't be this stupid in the future?"
"No," I squeaked.
"And we'll discuss grandchildren again at a later date?"
"I look forward to it," I said sarcastically.
I started to breathe again, telling myself that my mother was a much better choice than Toby was. It was also about this time that I realized that I had a little less than a quarter of a tank of gas.
A few minutes later, my mom called me back. "What happened?" I asked instead of saying hello.
"She didn't hang up on me."
"Yes!"
"That's the good news," she said slowly.
"Oh."
"She's not sure she believes me."
"She thinks you'd lie?" I couldn't believe that Donna would think my mom would lie.
"For you, absolutely not. For grandchildren, maybe."
"You talked about grandchildren to Donna!" I screamed! This was not the time, nor the place for my mother to discuss with Donna the fact that she wants me to have children with her. Donna. Did that make sense?
"No, don't be ridiculous. It's not that she thinks I lied to her. She thinks…"
"I lied to you," I finished her sentence.
"Yes."
I sighed. This wasn't getting any easier. "I'm not lying, Mom."
"I know you're not. And she knows it too. You just have to let her think about it for a few minutes."
"Ok, I will."
"Good. Don't call her."
"I won't."
"I mean it, Joshua. She needs some time to think."
"Ok."
"Alright, call me later with an update. I need a story for the rec. center."
"Gee, thanks."
"If I had grand children, I wouldn't have to use things like this."
"Fine!"
"Love you, Son. Don't call her."
"I won't," I said, hanging up. I then immediately called Donna. What? You knew I was going to immediately call her. You knew it, I knew it, my mom knew it, Donna certainly knew it.
She picked up the phone and without a hello said, "If you say even one word, I'm hanging up."
"Donna." And she wasn't lying. As soon as I said her name, she disconnected and tossed the phone on the passenger seat.
A minute later, I tried again. "I mean it Josh, one word and I'm hanging up."
"It was…" and I saw her toss the phone into the passenger seat again.
I screamed and then tried one more time. "Not one word," she said as she answered. I sat quietly, dying to say something, and that's when the most bizarre thing happened. She started talking. "I'm thirsty," she said. "I would like to go home. If you are willing to go to your home and let me go to mine and leave me the hell alone for a while, cough once." I didn't cough. "Fine, bastard. Then I'm going to stop at a fast-food restaurant and get something to drink. You are not to approach me while I'm in the drive-thru. If you follow these instructions, I will not speed away while you order something for yourself to drink. If you understand and agree to this, cough one time." I coughed once. "Fine. This is a temporary truce Lyman. If you break your deal on this truce, I will drive away and throw this phone out the window. If you understand this, cough once." I coughed once. "Fine. Goodbye."
Ten minutes later, we were in line at a McDonald's drive-thru. Twice, I started to get out of the car to talk to her, but both times she rolled her window down and yelled, "Stay in the car, Lyman."
After she ordered, I ordered. When I got up to the pay window, the woman there told me my total was 6.17. "For a coke?"
"The woman in that car," she said, pointing to Donna, "said you were buying hers as well."
Of course she did. "Right. I forgot," I said, smiling, and handed the woman the money. I was keeping an eye on Donna at all times for fear that she would renege on her end of the deal and pull away once she got her food. To my surprise, however, she pulled into a parking space and waited on me.
When I got my 6.17 coke, I assumed she'd pull out of her spot and the chasing would recommence. But she stayed in her spot. So I pulled into the spot next to her and waited. Then, ever so slowly, her car door opened up and she got out with her bag and drink and stood next to my passenger door. I hit the power locks and reached over and opened the door for her, still saying nothing, and she got in.
Neither of us said anything for over a minute when she got in the car, until she handed me a double cheeseburger and an order of french fries. "Thanks," I whispered and then we ate in complete silence.
When she was done, she opened the car door and got out, walked to the trashcan and threw the bag away, and then walked back to her car. At that point, I couldn't take it anymore, so I jumped out of my car.
"I thought it was a job offer!" I yelled, just as she opened her door.
"Your mom told me," she said quietly.
"It's the truth," I said, walking slowly to her on the other side of my car.
She didn't say anything, but she turned around slowly and looked at me for the first time since the first red light. "It's the truth," I repeated softly when I was standing right in front of her.
She still didn't say anything. She just stared at me for what felt like hours, and then she closed her eyes and flung her arms around my neck and held me with what I imagined was all her strength, and right there, in the McDonald's parking lot, I thought to myself, everything's going to be ok.
"I would never say that stuff about you," I whispered, pulling her close to me.
"I know," she whispered back, and I felt a tear drop on my neck.
"I just… I couldn't believe he was asking you on a date, I thought it had to be a job offer." Yes, you're beginning to see where I made my next mistake.
She pulled back and looked at me, a few tears running down her face and now that I look back, her eyebrows shot up around her hairline. Why didn't I notice that then? "What?" she asked.
"Come on, Donna. A congressman?" I said with a smile.
"Yes, a congressman," she said slowly.
"Doesn't that seem odd to you? Has a senator or congressman ever asked you out before?" I asked, leaning against my car and relaxing.
"No…"
"Don't you think there's a reason for that?"
When I said that, she smiled at me, and I figured she knew that she was off limits to congressmen and senators. Then she turned and opened her car door and got in, still looking at me and smiling. Once she was seated, she slammed the door and hit her power locks button before I even had time to register that she was pissed again. "Donna!"
She started her car and rolled her window down just a bit, as I was desperately trying to open her car door from the out side. "I guess I'm not smart enough, not educated enough, and not classy enough for a congressman, huh Josh?" she asked, and then peeled out of the parking lot.
So, here I am, once again chasing Donna through the streets of Virginia, wondering how in the hell I'm going to get out of this one. And a single thought keeps going through my mind; boy, am I stupid.