Title: Peripheral Vision
Author: Tinkerbell99
Rating: T
Disclaimer: The characters are not my creation, they belong to someone else.
Summary: And so it was that Donna joined the campaign, but what else happened that day? Told from the points of view of those on the outside of the main event.
POV: Abby
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I can tell from the way he walks into the diner that it's not been a good morning. He's late, which isn't unusual, and I've already ordered, which is probably for the best. We've been eating at this diner for the last two weeks. It's usually the only relatively uninterrupted half hour we have together. Uninterrupted, only if you don't figure in the security which seems to have intensified overnight.
"Well, I was wondering if you were ever going to join me." I motion toward my new security shadow. "I was about to ask Robert over there if he'd like to join me for lunch since my husband obviously wasn't interested."
"Abby-"
"No, I'm sure it would have been all right with him. He looks like he could use a good meal."
Jed removes his jacket and joins me at the table. "I was at the-"
"You know, Jed, in some circles I'm know as quite the conversationalist. Perhaps someone else would appreciate my wit. What do you think Robert?"
"Abby, I somehow don't think it falls within security's job description to eat lunch with the candidate's wife." He's futzing with the menu, not looking me in the eye.
"Why not? What's one little lunch? I used to make cookies for the gardener at the mansion. Oatmeal cookies. Sugar free. Did you know Melvin was a diabetic?" Jed and I are due for a conversation, one I'm in no hurry to start.
"Do we need to order?"
"I already did. Oh, damn, I should've ordered for Robert, too."
"Abby-"
"Do you think he'd prefer the apple pie or the lemon meringue?"
"Am I, at any point, going to be allowed to join in this conversation, or is this a one woman show?
"Well that depends. Is my husband joining me for lunch, or is candidate Bartlet?"
"Abby-"
"You missed the press event this morning." I'm finished beating around the bush. Time to get to the point, take a sip of tea, and wait. I've lit the fuse, the explosion won't be long off.
"Press event! All I missed was three guys in a booth asking me canned questions about a theoretical tax plan that not one of them would understand anyway even with a Cliff Notes version on the desk before them. Anyway there's some other damn thing tonight where I'll be standing there like a monkey in a-" Jed's rant is interrupted by the arrival of our food. After refilling the water, the server heads back to the safety of the kitchen and a temporarily distracted Jed inspects his plate.
"There's no mayonnaise on this."
I'd anticipated that reaction. Looking over at black and white photos on the wall, I tell him as casually as possible that, "there's mustard."
"But there's no mayonnaise. They forgot the mayonnaise." He's waving around, trying to signal someone from the kitchen. For as long as we've been married, he really doesn't seem to know me that well.
"Jed, they didn't forget the mayonnaise, I ordered it without."
"You ordered it without? What good is a sandwich without mayonnaise?" He's still poking under the bread. "And what is this spiky green stuff? Are you trying to kill me?"
"No, I'm trying to keep you alive. You don't need the mayonnaise, and the green stuff is healthy."
"But what is-"
"What do you care? It's green, it's healthy, now eat it and shut up." He grumbles a bit more, but takes a bite and chews thoughtfully. "Well?"
"It needs mayonnaise."
We eat in silence for several minutes as my husband's blood pressure lowers. It isn't long before he's ready to talk.
"Abby, I sat in a man's kitchen this morning. He's spent the last 10 years of his life trying to keep up with the economy. He pulled his children out of a private school so he could keep a roof over their heads. He worked not one, not two, but three jobs at one time to afford orthodontist bills and music lessons. He finally got one good paying job only to lose it six months later when he got laid off. Now, he selling his house and wondering where he'll find money to buy food for the next month. I sat in his kitchen this morning." He takes a bite and swallows. "That's where I was."
"Instead of the press event?"
"Yes." He nods emphatically. "Instead of the press event. Now you tell me which was more important. I called Byron Jennings and found the man a possible position with his company. You tell me where I should have been."
I know it frustrates him. Jed has never been one to sit back and wait patiently for change. He likes to roll up his sleeves. He feeds on contact with other people. Of course he found the man a job. I'd expect no less. Unfortunately, that same altruistic sense is beginning to be his biggest detriment in the campaign.
"Well, Jed, we can just fold up the campaign office today." He looks up from his coleslaw, fork in mid-air.
"What?"
"I mean it. Send everyone home. Or better yet, send everyone out on buses to cross the nation so you can sit in kitchens!" He lays the fork on the table and stares. "Jed what are you thinking?"
"Excuse me?" He blinks.
I've kept my mouth shut for long enough.
"You told me months ago that you would speak while people were listening and then go home. That was fine, but you picked up nineteen percent in that poll and that's the story of the morning. People are listening now, Jed, and instead of speaking you blow off a press event to sit in a kitchen?"
"I made a difference today, Abby. I was in his-"
"Of course you did. I know that. You know that. But America doesn't know that! This is bigger than Nashua, New Hampshire, Jed. You win this election and you change this country! It's bigger than one man in one kitchen! Let me sit in the kitchens. You go win an election."
He crumbles his napkin on his empty plate and slides it to the side of the table. His eyes are focused on his hands, and for a minute I think I may have gone too far. Then he starts to nod - very slowly, almost imperceptibly. Eyes still on his hands, I can barely hear him when he asks, "You think I can do that?"
"Win?"
He nods.
"You bet your ass." It's the first time in a long time that his blue eyes are clear and he has a smile on his face. "Now, tell me about this event tonight…"
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We walk together back to headquarters, my arm slipped through his, almost relaxed, almost like before this whirlwind began. My car is waiting for me, waiting to take me to sit in yet another kitchen in place of my husband. I kiss Jed good-bye and wipe the smudge of lipstick off his cheek before handing him the piece of pie I've carried from the restaurant.
"Give this to Toby, and apologize to him and to Leo for being a jackass."
"The pie isn't for me? I thought you were making up for the mayonnaise thing." He looks so disappointed, but I can't resist teasing him just a little.
"Oh, I've got something much better for you, but it'll wait 'til later. This is a public street." With a grin, I turn to my car. "Don't forget to give Toby the pie."
"Which one is Toby?" Honestly, will the man never learn these names?
"The one who likes pie." One last wave, and I'm in the car.
Bartlet for America. And I'm right behind him.