Disclaimers: Same as before;
Author's notes: This is very dialogue heavy, not too much description, but Josh and Donna have a much-needed conversation.
"I brought you a salad, the kind with those crunchy things on the top and the cheese that smells like feet."
"Here, you can have the peppers."
"Do you want some fries?"
"It's like you don't even know who I am."
"Are you going to eat the chicken?"
"You can have the ones soaking in the dressing. Give me a bit of your burger."
So that is our dinner conversation as once again we eat in her hotel room. Once again her turf is the bed, mine is the desk. Once in a while we slip into silence. I move to sit on the bed with her, only to get a hold of the chicken, of course.
"Nice work on Prop 675."
"You can't do that." She pushes me off the bed.
"Do what?"
"You can't talk about work while you are sitting on the bed. New Rule."
"That's a dumb rule." Although I think the other rule is a little dumb too.
"We need boundaries."
"Whatever."
Silence.
"Donna"
"Yes, Josh."
"George is back."
"I know."
"You think we should talk?"
"About what?"
"I picked last time, it's your turn." I move back onto the bed and start picking at her salad.
"Do you want to talk about the letters?"
"No!" Its too soon. To raw.
"Me either." Good.
Silence.
"I don't like how I left." She looks down and pushes my fingers away from the crunchy things I am about to steal. This situation should be playful, but her tone and the conversation she wants to bring up makes it change from playful to painful.
"Well, whose fault is that?"
"Yours!" Oh right. Why don't we ever talk about the Mets?
"I don't want to talk about this right now. Eat your salad."
"My many-months-too-late salad." She pouts.
"Don-na" I really don't want to talk about this.
"Jo-sh."
"Eat."
"George is getting bigger!" Stupid elephant who follows us everywhere.
"No, he's not."
"Yes he is. If you don't want to talk about my final days as your assistant, then tell me why you didn't return my phone calls."
Not this. Hasn't my day been bad enough? I buried all these emotions, I thought this was over, I really don't care how or why she left.
"I called. Like ten times while you were in New Hampshire." It was twelve but she knows that. "Did you forget how to use a phone?"
"No."
"Or e-mail. I e-mailed you too."
"I know." Every question she asks, I sound so defeated.
"I was worried." Her voice drops. "You looked terrible."
Well you weren't there, and I needed you.
"I wasn't sleeping well." That's a good excuse.
"Neither was I." Right, she wasn't sleeping either.
"I know that...now."
"Did you remember to call your mother on her birthday?"
"Yeah, thanks." That was the last phone call I got from her, the e-mails stopped to. "Why did you stop?"
"Stop calling or writing. I think it was pretty obvious."
"I liked them, it made me think you still cared." Her hand moves to my leg. I have urges to leave, but she keeps touching me and holding me in my spot. I could spit vile words at her, I could withdraw and scream at her, but she wouldn't let me go. She's being stubborn about this forcing me and pushing every button in me.
"I never stopped caring Josh, you know that. Right?"
"You stopped writing after Iowa."
"That's when I realized how far we drifted apart. We couldn't even be alone together without the awkwardness."
"I realized how much you didn't need me." She smiles, and steals another fry.
"But you needed me, if you had asked I would have helped. Listened. Something."
"You worked for Russell, how did I know you weren't going to use anything I told you against me." Shit! I didn't mean it to sound that harsh. She recoils and withdraws her hand. I didn't think all my reactions or emotions would be so uncontrollable.
"Because, it's me Josh! We're...well...friends to say the very least. I would never use anything like that against you." She smiles "Beside I have other things I could use against you." We share glances and chuckle. "I tried to help you."
"When?"
"I yelled at a chicken for you! It was the best press you got at the time! I was the one who convinced Russell to go to your debate! I informed you about Rafferty. I.."
"I know, you helped."
Her fingers run through my hair. Her fingers are warm and comforting. "I need you to understand, my loyalty to you is unfailing. We might not always work together or even been on the same sides of the coin, but if you ever needed me, I would be there. Do you understand? That's why I called and wrote you. That's why it broke my heart when you didn't respond. It meant you didn't feel the same way."
My heart just broke too.
"I couldn't call you. I thought it was just pity. I didn't want your pity or your support. Worst of all you didn't need me. So what was the point?" Oh, Josh.
"I, never, in all my years of knowing you, pitied you. I've shared every heartache and I wished I could protect you from them but never have I pitied you." My voice becomes nothing louder then a whisper. My fingers continue to stroke his head.
"I am sorry if I hurt you. I should have called or something."
"Josh, I just wished you would have talked to me before I left. All this hurt and resentment would have..."
"I didn't want to talk to you about your career or any advances you might make."
"Why not, did you think I was going to be your assistant forever?"
"Yes." You ass! I am not surprised; he will always see me as my original label.
"Well, I am not!" My voice starts to rise.
"Look I am sorry I blew you off, I am sorry I didn't believe you where leaving. I am sorry, I just didn't want to have that conversation." His voice follows suit.
"WHY not?" my voice can get just as loud.
"Because the last time we had that conversation you almost DIED!" He screeches.
Silence
I know this man, I know him better then he does sometimes. I should have seen this reaction coming. I should know what to say and do. My arms wrap around him, as they have for the most of the day.
I don't want to ask this question... but I have to. In a whisper so quite I don't know if he can hear it, I ask:
"Joshua, why do you think I left?" His response is just as quite, filled with shame and desperation.
"Your leg got better."
I didn't know how you could have such a physical reaction to something so emotional. I know it sound mundane but it feels like someone's hand has ripped through my rib cage and is crushing my heart. I didn't know your heart actually feels like that when it breaks. Sure his hurt me, sure I've hurt him. Most of emotions have been based on guilt. I have no words to describe my turmoil of feelings.
There is was. Everything that had kept us apart for so long. He blamed himself. Of course he did, the whole world rotates around him.
I think I am crying again. He holds me close and when I go to raise my head from his shoulder, he holds it there. Josh is not a crier, I've seen him at his worst moments, the death of his father, Mrs. Landingham, the shooting, turning a Democrat into a Republican. He's proud and never likes to show weakness. He holds my head against his shoulder because he doesn't want me to see him cry.
"Gaza was not your fault." I should have said it a year ago.
"You wanted to go to Brussels. I was holding you back and I didn't want to lose you. Instead I sent you to Gaza and you nearly died. And I still lost you." His voice is filled with desperation and fear.
"You never lost me."
We craw into bed and our bodies entwined, neither looking into each other faces.
"If you ever want to know the real reason I left. You simply have to ask." I whisper.
"I know." He kisses my forehead.
Our breathing synchs up and we fall asleep.
George just shrunk to 3/4 his original size.