Story: Phoenix
Chapter 11
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Previously: Jed and Lizzie went to the store to buy green beans and shampoo as Abbey and Ellie stayed behind to finish preparing Thanksgiving dinner and take a nap; Jed was confronted by a political rival who tried to persuade him to stop fighting the diary farmers
Summary: Jed's confrontation with Alan sparks an argument between Jed and Lizzie; Jed tells Abbey he broke their bet and is shocked by her response; Abbey advises Jed
Jed furiously peeled out of his parking space and drove away without a second glance. Lizzie sat in the passenger's seat, quizzically examining her father's expression every few minutes. Part of her was worried about him after the heated debate she had just witnessed. His face was colored a rosy hue and she knew it wasn't just from the cold. The redness was the evidence of Jed's anger, of his temper simmering just beneath the surface, ready to erupt at any moment.
Still, there was another part of her that was preoccupied with something else, something much more selfish. Alan had mentioned a move to the farm and Jed pretty much confirmed it. She tried to put it out of her mind, to disregard it until another time. She wanted desperately to suppress her feelings in favor of her father's, but it was nearly impossible. Her mind raced with questions. On impulse, she began a conversation neither of them was ready to have.
"Daddy?"
"What?"
"Are we really moving to the farm next year?" Her curiosity piqued when he didn't answer right away. He looked at her silently, then turned his eyes back to the road.
"Yeah. We are." He said it almost like a confession of some sort. Jed hadn't meant for her to find out this way. He and Abbey had planned to break the news together.
"Why?"
"Because that's what we decided to do."
"No we didn't. I didn't." Lizzie was soft-spoken and subdued, a far cry from what Jed expected. There wasn't even a hint of rebellion, just plain sadness.
"Your mother and I did."
"You didn't even ask me." Her opinion may not have affected the outcome, but the sting of not being asked did hurt her feelings.
"You love the farm," Jed reminded her.
"I love to visit it," Lizzie countered quickly. "But my friends are all in Hanover."
"You'll make new friends." His dismissive attitude annoyed her. Suddenly, she was the one having trouble taming that notorious Bartlet temper.
"I don't want new friends! I like the friends I have now!"
"Liz, I don't want to get into this with you right now."
"Fine!" She turned on the radio and shifted her body with an audible sigh as she looked out her window.
A wave of remorse crashed over Jed. He should have been the one to tell her. He should have been the one to ease her concerns over leaving her friends. Instead, she learned of a major family decision from a person who wasn't even a member of the family. A mere outsider who used a private situation to goad her father into surrendering a political fight.
He understood his daughter's anger. He couldn't really blame her. "Look, it was something we've been talking about since last summer. We were waiting to tell you and Ellie. I'm sorry you found out about it the way you did."
Lizzie didn't make a sound. Not a single peep. Her indignation ran deeper than just the physical move. The girl who always felt she had a say in decisions that affected her, now found she was a voiceless participant. And with that realization, a seed of resentment flourished in her heart.
By the time they arrived home, both had lost the festive spring in their step. Lizzie stomped in first, just barely closing the front door behind her. She collapsed on a chair in the kitchen, her arms folded in front of her the way they always were during one of her infamous pouting sessions.
"What happened?" Abbey asked.
"Nothing."
"Did you and Daddy have a fight?"
Lizzie shrugged. "I don't wanna talk about it."
"Okay." She knew better than to push Liz when she could easily pry the information out of Jed. "Why don't you go change. Your Aunt Kate called to say she's bringing Max over early."
"Ellie can play with Max. I just wanna sit here."
Jed barged in with a steady stride, his expression really no different from Lizzie's. He removed the cans of green beans and crumpled the paper bag in his fist.
Abbey watched his movements, the way he slammed the cans onto the countertop then threw the balled-up bag into the trash, not even flinching when he missed the rim by several inches. "What's wrong?" He didn't answer. She eyed the cans then looked up at him. "No shampoo?"
"I forgot," he replied, clearly irritated.
"That's okay. I'll pick some up in the morning." She walked around to his other side. "You wanna tell me what happened between you and Lizzie?"
Jed thought about it a moment. Abbey deserved to know what was going on, but filling her in right now would only upset him more. He rested his hands on the counter and heaved his frame forward. "Not really."
"Jed, what's going on?"
"There was a jerk at the grocery store," Lizzie blurted out. "He was mean and he yelled at Daddy!"
"That 'jerk' is a state representative, so lets refer to him with a little respect, okay?" He had to admit he was touched that the first words out of her mouth were in defense of him.
"Who was it?"
Jed lowered his head, brushing the lint off the sleeves of his jacket and slipping it off his shoulders. "Alan Gagne. He's upset about the dairy farmers."
"So he confronted you while you were shopping with your daughter on Thanksgiving?"
"He's pissed, Abbey. It's not like it was completely unexpected."
"He threatened Daddy! He said that people wouldn't vote for him anymore!" Lizzie seemed more outraged than Jed.
"Jed?"
Jed took a few steps out of the kitchen and hurled his jacket onto the back of a chair. "I really don't want to talk about this right now."
"Then lets talk about how I don't wanna move to the farm!"
As if struck by a bolt of lightening, Abbey whirled herself around to face Liz. "What?"
"Alan spilled the beans," Jed told her, returning to his spot behind the counter.
"How did Alan know?"
Lizzie sprang to her feet and approached her mother with renewed energy. "I don't wanna go!" It wasn't really a whine. More like a plea. A strong, genuine plea.
"Lizzie..."
"I don't wanna go! Can't we talk about it? Please?" She looked straight into Abbey's eyes with the heartfelt appeal.
"Of course we can. But we're going to have a house full of guests soon. Right now isn't the best time."
"Then when?"
"Tomorrow."
"And you'll change your mind when we do?" Liz was always great at making huge logical leaps in an effort to get what she wanted.
"No. I said we'll talk about it. That's all."
It was yet another blow to her fragile feelings. "What does that mean?"
"It means that we'll listen to you complain, then we'll do what we decided to do in the first place!" Jed's frustration was growing as his mood soured by the minute.
"That's not fair!"
"I swear to God, Elizabeth, I am so sick of hearing that word come out of your mouth! There are all kinds of things that aren't fair! Life is NOT fair! If you want to see something that's truly not fair, ask your friend Sara how her father is paying the rent this month!"
"Jed." Abbey placed a hand on his shoulder from behind, but Jed ignored the gentle reminder for a few calming breaths before the argument escalated even more.
"When I think of all the things in this world that aren't fair, the last thing that comes to mind is you being forced to move a half hour away to live on a multi acre farm where you'll have a year-round, heated swimming pool, a horse to ride whenever you want, a spacious backyard, and three bedrooms to call your own!"
Lizzie stared up at him through her misty blue eyes. Her brows were creased and her lips were trembling slightly as she fought back the tears. Jed rarely yelled. When he did, it always left her speechless.
"Mommy!" Ellie called from the master bedroom.
"Thank you. You managed to wake Ellie." Abbey untied her apron, threw it on the counter, and left the room.
Jed stared at Lizzie who stood directly in front of him. He hated losing his temper around her, especially when the crux of his wrath should have been directed at someone else. He shuffled his feet, quietly chuckling when she did the same. His lips quivered a couple of times, but he stumbled over his words before they even left his mouth.
He needed to resolve this with her. Only a truce would avoid a holiday disaster. "I'm sorry I yelled. Of course we can talk about the move and I promise I'll listen to what you have to say."
"But it won't change anything."
"We'll work it out, Lizzie. We'll work something out, okay?"
She nodded. "Okay."
"Just for today, can we pretend everything's okay, that you're not mad at me, that you're not upset, that I'm not upset, that we're both just happy to be celebrating Thanksgiving together?"
"Yeah," she assured him with a smile. He tossed her a grape lollipop from the pantry just to be sure. She caught it with a giggle. "Thanks!"
"You're welcome." Jed's attention wandered to a drawer just below him. He quickly rummaged through it and stuffed a matchbook into his sweatshirt pocket. "Tell Mom I went for a walk?"
He wasn't a stupid man. He knew Abbey wouldn't believe that he simply needed some air. He realized she would probably come after him. He counted on it, in fact. He stood right outside the house to make it as easy as possible.
Just as he suspected, it only took a few minutes to hear the door open and Abbey's delicate footsteps approaching. "Jed?" She was holding his coat in her hands, holding it wide open to wrap it around him from behind.
"Thanks." She strolled to the other side and reached for the cigarette nestled between his lips. He grabbed her fingers before she could pull it out. "Stop it."
Abbey pulled back. It was obvious that he was serious. Truthfully, she wasn't even surprised. "So you're just going to stand out here in the cold?"
"Yes, I am." Jed took a puff then held it up between them. "And in the interest of honesty, this isn't my first cigarette."
"Today?"
"No, it's my first today. It's just not my first since we made that bet two months ago." He put it back in his mouth, inhaling even longer this time.
"I know."
Her response didn't register right away. He expected some level of shock, maybe even anger. "Aside from that first week, I've been smoking every day at work."
"I know," she repeated as she noticed his glare out of the corner of her eye. "So when are you going to stop trying to pick a fight with everyone who crosses your path?"
"I wasn't trying to pick a fight with you. I figured you'd find out I'm smoking sooner or later. Apparently, you already knew."
"I know everything that goes on with you." She leaned in towards him, her hands crossing his chest and resting under his coat. "Most of the time, it's because you tell me."
He put his hand over hers to pull it away and lace their fingers. He dropped the cigarette onto the ground and crushed it under his foot. "Alan's coming after me. I don't think I have enough people on my side."
She followed him towards the porch where he pulled out a patio chair for her. "Alan's always been after you. You manage to fight him off each and every time."
"This time I'm not so sure." Jed sat down next to her, his elbows braced on his legs as he leaned forward.
"Why?" Abbey couldn't understand the despair in his voice, until she remembered the ugly game of politics. "What will he want?"
"My concession on the Crimes Against Women bill." Alan had fought hard against the introduction of that bill. Now that Jed had pledged his support, it was sure to be a source of contention.
"He knows you promised Dan that you'd help with it?"
"Yeah. And he knows what happened to you over the summer. He knows that right now, that bill is my weakness." Political blackmail born from personal tragedy always enraged him.
"Did he mention it?"
"He didn't have to. I know Alan Gagne well, Abbey. Too well. That's where my vulnerability lies. That's what he'll go after. And if I don't give up the fight, he'll fight me on every farm initiative that comes up."
Abbey caressed his leg tenderly. It was an affectionate touch, exploding with unwavering loyalty. She had to let him off the hook. "You have to do what you have to do. If that means sacrificing the C.A.W., then so be it."
"No. It's too important."
"Jed, you're one hell of a husband, but you're also a politician. You have to prioritize, Honey. This bill can wait for a few months. Introduce it at the end of the session or at the beginning of the next one. But this farm proposal will raise prices on dairy. It requires immediate action from people like you, people who care about all the people of this state, not just the farmers. The ones who can't afford milk in the morning need your help now."
"Alan is playing dirty."
"Politics is always dirty, especially when you're not the one on top."
"One of these days, I'd like to be the one on top. I'd like to leave the State House just once, feeling like I've accomplished something, like I made a difference in someone's life, that it wasn't just a wasted effort that died in the bowels of political jargon and one-upmanship."
"You do make a difference. Every single day, you make a difference in this state, in the kids that you teach, in the way that you legislate. I've never known anyone who's as determined and focused as you are to make a difference."
Encouraging words were a dime a dozen. He could hear them from anyone, but somehow, hearing them from Abbey was always different. It was special. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. And if you ever doubt that, just look into the eyes of your daughters. Every single day, you make a difference in my life, and the lives of our children." She lightly patted her belly. "All our children." His hand joined hers on top of the protruding mound. "This thing with Alan will pass."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Then you fight for what you need to and let everything else rest on the backburner. For now."
"You think that's the smart thing to do?"
"I think that's your only choice." Since the start of his political career, Abbey had been Jed's most trusted advisor. She didn't have a background in politics, but the things she knew could never be taught to anyone else. She knew him. His heart. His soul. She knew what made him sad, what made him happy, what made him tick, and what made him smile. She knew his struggles and his weak spots, his energy and his strength. She knew Jed like no one else ever would.
"Maybe you're right," he admitted softly.
"Don't make any decisions right now. Ride this one out. See what happens."
Jed scooted to the edge of his chair to steal a kiss. He felt her shiver slightly when his warm hands touched her cold face. "You're freezing. We should go in." He stood up and lifted her to her feet.
"Thanks."
"You really knew I had been smoking this whole time?"
"I told you. I know everything about you."
"Why didn't you say something?"
"Because you were down to two cigarettes a day - three on Fridays to get you through the weekend, which is why you're a bit cranky on Sundays and extraordinarily jubilant on Mondays."
He couldn't believe it. She hit the nail on the head. "And you kept this all to yourself because..."
"Last year at this time, you were smoking nearly a pack a day. Now it's two or three cigarettes. I kept my mouth shut because I didn't want to push my luck." Bet be damned, the only thing that mattered to Abbey was that he was trying to quit.
"Were you ever going to tell me you knew?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. I like staying one step ahead of you." She shrugged flirtatiously. "And don't think I don't know that you left your hat in the car."
"What hat?"
"The hat you snuck out of here when you and Lizzie left for the store."
She was right. She knew everything that went on with him. Jed laughed. "Yeah, yeah."
"Come on." She pulled him towards the front door. "You promised Ellie you'd tell her about the plight of the pilgrims."
"How did you know I'm down to two cigarettes a day?"
Abbey greeted him with a loving grin, a smile that let him know exactly what her methodical mind had done. She had been dipping into his briefcase and counting his cigarettes every night after he went to bed. Ordinarily, he would have faulted her for that, possibly even responded in anger. But at that moment, he wasn't upset. Far from it. He cherished the little reminders of Abbey's love and deep concern.
"You're like a little stalker, you know that?"
She rubbed her bulging tummy. "Not so little right now."
"Thank you," he whispered into her ear as she stood on the stoop outside the door.
"For what?"
"For knowing when to keep your mouth shut and when to kick my ass."
She turned towards him with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Lets just wait until the baby's born and see how much you'll be thanking me then."
"Why?"
"You lost our bet, Babe. I may have let you slide on the smokes, but I'll be damned if you won't be my personal love slave for two weeks."
"Do we have to wait til the baby's born?" She squealed when he squeezed her rear as they walked inside.
TBC