Story: Phoenix
Chapter 9
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Previously: Jed and Abbey had a talk about him feeling left out of the decisions surrounding the pregnancy; Against Abbey's wishes, Jed asked the doctor to tell him the sex of the baby; Abbey concluded she was carrying a baby boy when she misread the ultrasound
Summary: Sara's father, Hashem, asks Jed for help; when Jed fears he may not be able to offer Hashem the assistance he needs, he turns his attention to another problem the man is facing
Author's Notes: Thank you for all the feedback and reviews! We greatly appreciate it!
Jed Bartlet always had a knack for subtle observation. When he really put his mind to it, his eyes could soak in a scene in a matter of seconds, capturing the most minute details on a quest to discover a person's idiosyncrasies. Usually, Abbey was the target of his sociological probing. But sometimes, the honor fell to someone else.
He moved his head slowly from left to right as he scanned the dinner table. Lizzie and Sara sat side by side, whispering and giggling as preteen girls are prone to do. Ellie sat next to them, her attention dedicated to two-year-old Yasmin who tried, with every breath in her little body, to form the words that would help her carry on a conversation that mirrored her big sister's. Ellie helped her when she stuttered, occasionally looking to her mother for assistance herself. And when she wasn't being addressed by her younger daughter, Abbey was deeply engaged in a conversation with Manaz, the two pregnant women comparing the large mounds that dominated their figures.
And finally, at the other end of the table was Hashem. He tried desperately to hide his somber demeanor, but he couldn't outwit Jed's experienced radar. A self-proclaimed student of human behavior, Jed relished the fact that everyone had a story. Some were filled with colorful anecdotes. Others were simply told in the plainest fashion. But he didn't care. A story was a story and there was no better way to chronicle living history than through individual stories.
Jed was fascinated by Hashem's fortitude and his love for America. He looked back on the uncertainty and fear that coursed through him when he and Abbey moved to London just after their wedding. So far away from family and friends, from the comfort and familiarity of New England, he was initially filled with anxiety.
Now, as he looked at Hashem, he couldn't help but embrace the man's courage. The fact that he had packed up his life and moved to a foreign land in search of better opportunities, a better education for himself and his girls, energized Jed. And that raw energy, born out of admiration for the immigrant's plight, was never more important than it was right now.
There was a problem, Lizzie had told her father. Hashem was one class short of a full courseload that semester. He couldn't afford the full tuition so he registered for what he could and worked part-time as a taxi driver. But as a guest on a Student Visa, he was technically breaking immigration rules. It may have been overlooked or unreported a year earlier, but Hashem's indiscretion now collided with the Iranian Revolution. And in the midst of intense scrutiny brought on by the upheaval of terrorists in his native country, breaking the rules was simply unacceptable, no matter what the reason.
His work permit had been revoked and he was forced to quit school. The family was preparing for deportation as soon as Manaz delivered her baby.
Jed waited to steal a private moment with the patriarch, hoping that perhaps there was some way he could help. When the girls lured their mothers into Lizzie's room, he knew he had an opportunity. He slid over a couple of chairs and prepared to approach the subject, but before he began, Hashem surprised him.
"It was a delicious dinner. Thank you," he said.
"Eh, I didn't do anything. Abbey's the real cook in the family."
"I'll be sure to thank her then." Hashem's lips moved slightly, as if he had more to say. But several agonizing minutes passed before he did. "I wanted to talk to you."
"Yeah?" If he was willing to bring it up, Jed would sit back and let him.
"You said you could help me with the people who call?"
"Are they still bothering you?"
Hashem emphatically shook his head. "No, no. They're not. But I hope..." A man who never asked for help before found it difficult to ask for it now. "I...the government..."
Jed placed his hand on top of Hashem's. "It's okay. Lizzie told me."
Though startled by the fact that his daughter had told her friends, Hashem had to admit it was a relief that he didn't have to recount the story. "Sara wasn't supposed to tell."
"They're eleven-year-old girls. They talk."
"I'm glad she did. I wouldn't know how..."
"Do you want my help? I mean, would it be okay if I..."
Hashem stared down at the mahogany table, avoiding eye contact as he nodded. "If you can try to help me, please..."
Jed stopped him at the first sign of his discomfort. "Of course I'll try. I'll do everything I can."
"I wouldn't ask for me, but Manaz and Sara and Yasmin..."
"I have a wife and daughters too. I understand." Jed made an attempt to put himself in Hashem's place, to imagine what he would do if a circumstance beyond his control rendered him helpless and unable to provide for his family. He realized quickly it was something he couldn't bare to even contemplate.
"Thank you."
"Through my work at the State House, I have some contacts, not only in New Hampshire, but in other states as well. It's going to be a game of who knows whom and at the end of the line, hopefully, we can reach some pretty important people who will review your situation."
"Who?"
"I don't know yet." It was hard to say those words to a man who had such little hope left in him. "But I promise you, I'll find out."
"What should I do?"
"We'll go over everything. I need you to tell me the terms of your Visa and why you were unable to..."
"I had to work. School...it's expensive. Everything's expensive. It was a choice between not taking a class or not buying enough food for my children."
Jed had to agree that was a no-brainer. "I would have done the same thing. But I need to put that in writing and given the current political climate, we need to be convincing."
Hashem understood. He was the first to admit that while American hostages were still missing, spread out over rural parts of Iran, making a rescue mission an impracticality, the government's priority should rest with protecting its residents. But he hadn't worked in more than two weeks. Without a work permit, two young daughters and a baby on the way, his family's savings were dwindling fast.
"When can we start?" he asked.
For a second, Jed's attention wavered as he stared at Yasmin's purple bottle that had fallen to its side when she left the table with her mother. It was one of those wide ones with a rounded base and a soft, silicone nipple, the kind that occasionally leaked if not upright.
"Tomorrow. First thing tomorrow."
Both a bit uncomfortable, the two men allowed the silence between them without a fight. It was only when their wives and daughters returned to the table that either of them spoke again.
Their conversation teetered in Jed's mind long after Hashem left. He wrestled with the options, knowing that if he really wanted to help, time was a luxury not to be wasted. This family's future depended on what he could do for them. For one of the first times in his life, the thought of the power he may have, or in the end, he may find out he really didn't have, frightened him.
Later that evening, Abbey pulled a loose-fitting tank top over her head and yanked on the hem to cover her protruding stomach. It was time for the nightly inspection. Turned to her side, she molded her right hand to the top slope of the bulge, watching her reflection in the full length mirror as her fingers poked their way towards her hips.
"You're doing just fine, Little Guy," she whispered to her belly. "I can't wait until you come out and join us."
She had been talking to her baby since she first learned she was pregnant. But it was only in the past few weeks that she was sure her words were being heard. Every syllable was met with some kind of movement, every vibration of music met with a kick. And every night, after tucking in Lizzie and Ellie, Jed would lay beside her, wrap an arm around her shoulder, and snuggle as they'd both read a bedtime story to the youngest little Bartlet swimming in her belly.
"We have to pick out a story for tonight unless we want Daddy to pick it for us. If he picks it, you know what that'll mean." She jerked slightly at the soft kick. "Yeah, I remember last week's book too," she giggled, thinking about the night Jed read a book of Greek mythology to their unborn child.
She slipped on a pair of oversized sweat pants and pulled down the covers as Jed stood silently in the doorway. He watched her dark auburn tresses fall to her shoulders when she released the brown clip that had been taming them. Even from across the room, he could smell the fragrance of the vanilla hand lotion she began applying to her hands and working up to her elbows.
He loved to watch her get ready for bed. Underneath the veil of stress and tension that had plagued her throughout the day, was the gorgeous woman who managed to play the strings of his heart effortlessly.
There's a certain glow that comes with pregnancy, a fiery light under the rosy hues of a woman's skin. Jed had always seen it on Abbey's face. During the nine months the fetus inside her would blossom into a human being, her figure wasn't the only thing that would change. He saw it with Lizzie. He saw it again with Ellie. And he was seeing it now.
A pink blush colored her creamy alabaster cheeks and the bridge of her nose with a natural sheen that drew attention to her twinkling eyes. Like the authentic gemstone by the same name, her jade green orbs held hints of her immeasurable strength and the sizzling passion that emphasized her genuine radiance.
He was mesmerized by her beauty. But it was more than the superficial stuff that took his breath away. The knowledge that her exterior attributes were matched by a spirited personality, an intelligent mind, and a compassionate soul just as lovely as her stunning face only deepened his love.
"Jed?" She had just noticed his intrusion. "What are you doing?"
"Sorry." He took a step inside the threshold, approaching her with a plate topped with the Zolbia Hashem and Manaz brought over.
"I already had dessert."
Jed set a glass of milk on the nightstand beside her as she accepted the plate. "The doctor said to fatten you up."
"I never knew you'd get pleasure out of doing that."
"I get pleasure out of keeping you healthy." He crawled onto the foot of the bed and picked up her right leg to lay it across his knees. Gently, he massaged her toes.
"That feels so good."
"I told you to let me help you with the cooking. Being on your feet all day was bound to tire you out."
"But if I had let you help, I wouldn't be getting this wonderful attention now, would I?"
Jed let go of her right foot to pick up her left and repeat the process. "You're not exactly hurting for attention, Abbey," he growled.
"I didn't say I was." Something in his tone alerted her to the fact that he wasn't just teasing. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"You just snapped at me. What's wrong?" Abbey put her plate next to the glass on the nightstand as Jed moved up towards the head of the bed.
"I didn't snap at you." He grabbed her hip to push her to her side, away from him. Beginning with her lower back, he manipulated the muscles that surrounded her spine.
"You snapped at me."
"I'm just saying that I pay you a lot of attention."
Abbey reached behind her to take his hand as she rolled onto her back. "I know that. I was only kidding." With one look into his eyes, she saw the agitation he was trying to hide. "What's wrong?" Jed released his hold and laid back onto his pillow. "Is it this thing with Hashem?"
"I guess."
"You said you would help him. That's all you can do."
"And what if I can't? I mean, technically, he didn't follow the rules. The INS can do whatever the hell it wants."
"There may be a way around that. You just have to look for the loopholes."
"I just went into Ellie's room a few minutes ago. She couldn't sleep so I brought her a glass of warm milk." Getting Jed to admit what was bothering him was like a bumpy ride on an airplane that circles around the airport several times before finally landing. "Yasmin loves milk too, Hashem told me."
"Yeah." She curled up closer to him as he slid his arm under her back.
"He hasn't been working," Jed reminded her. "He was forced to take milk off the grocery list this week." Abbey pushed herself towards him even more. "At first, it seemed like a reasonable sacrifice. I mean, milk prices have soared, partly thanks to me."
She pulled away slightly to look at him. "To you?"
"Two years ago, a bunch of the state legislators got together to fight foreign companies who threatened to undercut American dairy prices."
"I remember. But the federal government took over. They're the ones who passed the Trade Agreement Act, not the state of New Hampshire."
"It was because of us. Us and legislators in Ohio and Wisconsin and Massachusetts." He once recalled his accomplishment with pride. Now, he was just filled with remorse. "And as if it wasn't enough to protect dairy farmers from the foreign market, New Hampshire farmers want more."
"Like what?" Abbey waited for his answer, but he didn't give one. He simply sighed. "Jed, are you considering a state initiative?"
"Just before we wrapped up the session, we discussed the feasibility of an agreement between New Hampshire, Maine, Vermont, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut." It was the first time the idea of the New England Dairy Compact was floated between the states.
"Stipulating what?"
"Raising minimum milk prices and, at the same time, avoiding competition from other states."
"That's good for our farmers."
"And bad for everyone else. There are people who struggle just to make ends meet and can't afford to buy milk for their families."
"Honey..."
"Yasmin's bottle was leaking tonight, Abbey. It was leaking onto the table. But it wasn't milk. Her father can't afford to buy milk so he filled his baby's bottle with water instead. It was water that came out of that little girl's bottle."
Abbey tenderly stroked his chest as it rose with every heavy breath. "It's not your fault that he can't afford milk. It's not your fault that he can't work, that he can't pay the bills."
"I know. I'm just saying I'm a state representative. I'm supposed to represent all my constituents, not just the farmers." He never realized he'd have to remind himself of that.
"You do, Jed. You do."
"Apparently, not well."
"What are you going to do?"
"Fight it. Fight them."
"You're going to piss off the farmers?"
"If it comes to that."
He was seeing the entire issue from a new vantage point and in typical Jed Bartlet fashion, his fear of impotence over Hashem's situation was overshadowed by something he could control, something he could fight with the intensity that defined all his political struggles. It empowered him. It gave him a sense of authority and leadership. Abbey always said he couldn't fix everything. But he would devote his undying attention to what he could.
TBC