xxxxx
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm Katie McNamara and welcome back to the finals of the US Olympic Swimming Team trials," the overly cheery announcer's voice came through the airwaves.
"Did I miss it?" Abigail Bartlet rushed into her living room, which was chock full of the Drea Lyman fan club. The Bartlets had arranged for the usual suspects to come to Manchester so they could all watch the trials together.
"No, you're just in time," Jed assured his wife, kicking Toby off of the couch to clear a spot for her.
"For those of you just joining us," Katie McNamara continued, "we're about to see history in the making. The next event is the Women's 100 Freestyle, an event which America has not won in the past 12 years at any international competition. The American record was shattered earlier today by the rising star of swimming, Rebecca Lyman, who bested the old record by 2 seconds."
This was news to the Manchester crew, who cheered accordingly.
"Rebecca has the highest qualifying time for this event, placing her in lane 4. The other swimmers –"
Toby cut her off, "What other swimmers?"
"Do you think they're going to show CJ and Josh?" Donna asked, pulling her youngest daughter, Allison onto her lap.
"She better have a ring on her finger if they do," Leo muttered.
"Leo McGarry, what did you do?" Abbey scolded.
He grinned, "I simply suggested to Drea that she suggest to Josh that he ask this weekend."
"Shh," Sam's wife, Melissa, interrupted, "Drea's getting on the block."
The entire room took a collective breath as their girl took her place on the starting block. She went through her usual routine; adjusting her goggles, rolling her head to the left, then to the right, and looking for Josh. This time, the camera followed her eyes.
"Rebecca's father, Former Deputy Chief of Staff under President Bartlet, is here with her today, along with his best friend, Rebecca's godmother and Former Press Secretary under President Bartlet, CJ Cregg," Katie explained to the masses.
"Are they swimming?" Toby muttered.
Soon the long-awaited mechanical voice said, "Swimmers, take your marks. BEEEP."
"And they're in the water!" Katie cried. The Bartlet living room was completely silent. Everyone was lost in his or her own silent prayers for Drea's victory. "Remember, 100 meters is only 2 laps of the pool, so a quick start is crucial. Rebecca Lyman is ½ body length ahead of her closest competitor! She's approaching the flip turn; she's already ahead of her record! This girl is unbelievable!"
"You bet you she is!" Sam called from the couch, breaking the silence.
"She's at 15 meters, 10 meters, 5 meters, she's touched! Rebecca Lyman just broke her own record! She just swam the 100 Free in 46:30! That's unreal! The 13-year-old phenom is on her way to the Olympics!" Katie exclaimed, but the Manchester crew never heard her. As soon as Drea touched the wall, they erupted into celebratory screams.
"Hey!" Donna screamed over the din, "they're showing CJ and Josh!"
All eyes flew to the TV.
"And she's got a ring!"
xxxxx
I'm finally alone.
After nearly five hours of cameras and reporters and the finals for the 200 Free and then even more cameras and reporters, I am finally alone.
I was never really worried about today. It's not like anyone was asking me to do anything that I haven't done before. I've beaten the clock more times than I haven't.
Geez, I sound so conceited.
I sound like Dad.
Well, Dad before Aunt CJ.
Grin
Let me tell you, touching that wall wouldn't have been nearly as sweet if Dad hadn't proposed. I still haven't gotten the full story, but I intend to. And trust me, I will.
Freestyle is just something I do. I'm not nearly as good at any of the other strokes, just Free. It's probably because that's all I ever practice. About three weeks into my intense training, Woody started to notice that my splits in free were out of this world. He talked to my dad and they decided to concentrate on that. They never asked me, they decided.
It's gotten me to the Olympics, so I guess it really wasn't that bad of a decision. Just an incredibly monotonous one.
But I'm starting to sound like a Lyman again, so I better stop. There are about twenty-five messages on my machine from everyone back home. If I call one, I'll have to call them all. Although, if I don't call Mrs. Bartlet, I'll never hear the end of it.
Sigh
What's the Manchester number again?
xxxxx
My daughter is going to the Olympics.
Seriously, THE Olympics.
Drea is swimming two individual events, plus two relays: the 4x100 IM and the 4x100 Free.
CJ said she'd marry me.
Seriously, she agreed to marry me.
Life seriously doesn't get much better.
Seriously.