London, England
It had been three days since Lord Marbury's party. Three days since Abigail Bartlet had found her room saturated by roses. Three days since she received the letter that made her cry and gave her hope. Three days since she had left her hotel suite. Three days, she had been waiting for him. And in three days, he hadn't come. He hadn't called, he hadn't written. He hadn't even sent someone else to call, as had been the case many a time.
Someone else had called. Yes, someone else had called many times. But it wasn't the someone she wanted. It was the someone who wanted her.
For the first time since she left for Europe, Abbey felt the breakdown of her marriage. No matter how angry she had been after she left, or how betrayed she felt, she never felt it. She figured that, somehow, they would find a way. Somehow, God would bring them back together. She never thought it would get this far. And now, he had given up on her. She ruined it. Thirty-seven years. Thirty-seven years of laughter, tears, arguments, joy, triumph, tragedy, and most of all, love. Ruined.
No. Not ruined. She wasn't ready to let it go yet. Maybe something happened. Maybe there was a situation that prevented him from coming, and from calling. She wasn't going to jump to conclusions anymore. She was through with that. He was the President of the United States, she reasoned. Things happen. If no one one was going to call her, she was going to call them.
Washington, D.C.
Sam Seaborn sat in CJ Cregg's office, listening to the sound of CJ typing away on her laptop. It had been a few minutes since either of them had spoken. Sam had started to wonder why it was he was even in the room.
"CJ."
"Hmm."
"Can I go now?" Sam asked.
"No."
"Can I ask why?"
"No."
"Fair enough. Can I at least have a magazine then?"
CJ looked up at him.
"Don't say the word magazine to me ever again."
"Right. Any other off-limits words I should know about?"
"Suffice it to say, the words 'first' and 'lady' are two of them," CJ replied.
Sam nodded.
"That's a given."
"Sam, do you have any idea what I've been…"
Her sentence was interrupted by Carol opening the door and popping her head in the office.
"CJ."
"Yeah."
"Briefing."
"Now?"
"Yeah!" Carol said, matter-of-factly.
CJ shook her head.
"Nope. Uh-uh. Not going."
"What are you, eight years old? Get up, you're going to school!"
"Cancel the briefing, Carol. I can't do this anymore."CJ, if I could…" Sam said.
"No, shut up. Carol, I'm not going."
"I'm not gonna cancel your briefing on account of you're a whiny little baby! If you want to cancel it…you do it."
With that, Carol was gone.
"Damnit!"
"Do you want my advice?" Sam asked.
"No. What is it?"
"Go ahead with the briefing. Whatever you don't answer now, you're just gonna have to answer later."
CJ sighed, relenting.
"Why won't she call, Sam? She's a smart woman. She has to realize what I'm dealing with here."
"Don't get me wrong here, I know what you're going through isn't a piece of cake, but I think Mrs. Bartlet got a lot happening across the pond too. I don't think she's at a spa getting a massage right now, do you?"
"No. But the least she could do is call me and say 'Hey, CJ, there's nothing going on with me and Tony Prescott.' Then at least I could deny it."
"What if there is?"
"What?"
"What if there is something going on?"
CJ laughed.
"Sam, come on."
"I'm serious. Maybe that's why she hasn't called. Because, what is she gonna do? Say 'Hey, CJ, I'm cheating on the President, make sure you tell the press.'"
"Sam!"
"What? I'm just trying to weigh out our options here. Anything could happen at this point."
"It better not happen."
"Wake up, CJ. It's going to."
The press secretary was getting clobbered again. Amy Gardner didn't know how many times she could watch CJ on the podium, struggling to mollify the press corps. It seemed like their questions were never-ending. Every day, they conjured up new questions, none of which CJ seemed to have answers for.
Amy sat at her desk, staring at the phone, just willing it to ring. The First Lady had to call some time, she figured. Why not now?
"Ring!" Amy demanded, leaning down until her face was a few inches from the phone. "Ring, damnit! Please…come on, baby, ring for Amy. You can do it! Ring!"
She nearly fell off her chair when the piercing sound of the phone ringing, actually ringing, penetrated the air. When she regained her composure, she picked up the phone off the receiver.
"Amy Gardner."
"Hi, Amy. It's me."
"Wow," Amy whispered. "I am GOOD."
"Excuse me?" Abbey asked.
"Nothing, ma'am. I'm just thinking of taking up sorcery."
"Right."
"How are you, Mrs. Bartlet?"
"Fine, thank you. How are you?"
"Not so good, ma'am."
"Oh?"
"I've spent the last three days waiting for your call."
"I'm sorry, Amy. I've been…busy," Abbey said.
"Mrs. Bartlet, I mean this with all due respect, but…what the hell is going on!"
"You're angry," Abbey observed.
"Well, yeah. I guess you could say that."
Amy heard her boss sigh on the end of the line.
"Ma'am, you should have called as soon as it happened."
"Well, I didn't," Abbey said.
"No, you didn't. That's lead to chaos."
"How?"
"Because we need information! And you haven't given us any," Amy said.
"No information to give," Abbey said, simply.
"Oh, come on, Mrs. Bartlet. You have to give me more than that!"
"The reason I called, Amy, is because the President was supposed to travel to London a few days ago. Was the trip canceled"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"You know why, ma'am."
"Yeah." Abbey sighed deeply. "All right then. I'll let you go."
"Mrs. Bartlet, we really need to…"
"I'll be in touch, Amy."
"But…"
Click.
"Great," Amy muttered to herself. "This is just swell."
"Debbie!" Jed called, exiting his office.
Debbie stood.
"Yes, sir."
"I'm gonna go for a walk, I'll be back in ten minutes," he said.
"A walk, sir?"
"Yeah, I'm just gonna walk down to the East Wing for a minute."
"You've got the Secretary of Labor in fifteen minutes," Debbie said.
"Got it."
The President was headed to the East Wing with a purpose, though it wasn't one he wanted people to be aware of. For the last month, his wife's schedule had been a mystery to him. He didn't know what she was doing and he didn't know when she was coming back. Well, that was all going to end. He was going to pay a little visit to the First Lady's social secretary. Brantley Moore's office hadn't been busy these past few weeks, to say the least. He was new to the job of the First Lady's social secretary, having just started the day before Zoey Bartlet's kidnapping. He had no idea what 'normal' was for the White House. Most of the time he had been there, his boss hadn't even been around. When the President walked into his office, he found himself absolutely astounded.
"Mr. President!"
"Bradley, is it?"
"Brantley, sir."
"Right. Brantley. How are you today?" Jed asked.
"Excellent, sir. Th-thank you for asking. How are you?"
"Fine, thanks. Listen, I wanted to ask you about my wife's schedule."
"Yes, sir."
"There's a DAR reception coming up next month, isn't there?"
"Yes, sir, there is."
"Is she going?"
"No, sir, she asked me to cancel it."
"How long ago did she ask you to do that?" Jed questioned.
"This afternoon, sir."
"My wife was in touch with you today?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did she ask you to cancel anything else?"
"Oh…yes, sir. She asked me to clear her schedule in Washington for the next two months."
"Two months?"
"That's right. And she said I shouldn't count on her after that either."
"That was her wording, huh?" Jed surmised.
"Yes, sir. She said, 'Don't count on me any time after that either.'"
Jed nodded.
"That's Abbey all right. Well. Thank you, Bradley."
"It's Brant…oh, forget it, Bradley's fine."
"Good. I'll see you around."
"I hope so. Thank you, sir."
"Have a good day, Brad."
Jed put his hands in his pockets and began his stroll down the hallways of the East Wing, deep in thought. As he passed by Amy Gardner's office, he heard a few screams of frustration from inside. He peeked his head in the door, curiously, then opened it all the way. Amy was sitting in her chair, banging her head on her desk.
"Amy?"
Her head jerked up immediately.
"Mr. President."
She stood to greet him.
"This…is a pleasant surprise, sir."
"Doesn't sound so pleasant. What's going on?"
Amy groaned in discontent.
"I just got off the phone with…" She stopped herself quickly, realizing who she was talking to. "Nobody."
Jed eyed her suspiciously.
"Amy, were you on the phone with the First Lady?"
Amy looked down at the ground.
"Yes, sir," she mumbled.
"It's okay to say it, you know."
"Yes, sir."
"Why were you screaming?"
"I..she…she can be frustrating sometimes."
Jed laughed.
"Don't I know it."
"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to…"
"You didn't, Amy. You've never watched your words around me before, let's not start now, all right?"
"Yes, sir!"
"So. Did she call to tell you she's not coming back?"
Amy stared at him in confusion.
"No…sir, she didn't."
"She didn't?" Jed asked, surprised.
"No. She…just wanted to know why the trip to London was canceled. If you ask me, sir…she was looking forward to your visit."
"Do me a favor, Amy?"
"Anything, sir."
"Call Debbie for me and ask her to get me Leo please. I'm on my way to the office."
"Yes, sir."
"I'm going to London."