"Lunch in the President's personal dining room. I can't get over it," Mark Schaefer commented, absently taking a bite out of his club sandwich.
"Better get used to it, son. You're engaged to the President's daughter," Jed replied.
"You know, all this time we've been dating, I've never even seen Ellie like that. The President's daughter. This is very surreal to me."
"Let's not talk about me like I'm not here, all right?" Ellie suggested, wryly.
"If that's what you really want," Jed said.
"I thought we were here to discuss the wedding."
"We are," Mark said. "I'm just a little…bowled over by all of this."
"You mean intimidated," Ellie said.
"I'm not intimidated!"
"He's intimidated," Ellie repeated, glancing at her father.
"Okay, I'm a little intimidated. But mostly bowled over," Mark said.
"I get that a lot," Jed stated.
"So, Dad, we were thinking…"
"Have you told your mother yet?"
"What?" Ellie asked, startled by the non sequitur.
"Does your mother know about your engagement?" Jed questioned.
"I…I don't know. I guess if someone else told her…"
"You didn't tell her?"
"I haven't spoken to her in two weeks," Ellie admitted.
"Ellie, she's your mother. You have to tell her."
"No, I don't."
"What are you going to do? Neglect to invite her to your wedding?"
"That's the plan, yes."
"That is not the plan," Mark said, firmly. "Mr. President, I insisted that Ellie call her mother, but she refuses. I'd love for her to come to the wedding. In fact, it would mean a lot to me."
"If Ellie won't call her, you're welcome to, Mark. One of you needs to."
"Don't even think about it, Mark," Ellie replied, quickly. "Why don't you call her, Dad?"
"Ellie."
Ellie shrugged.
"It was worth a shot. I'm just…I don't know, it's weird that this…is how you're spending your thirty-eighth anniversary."
"We're not going to discuss that, Ellie. Not now," Jed said, softly.
"Not ever?"
He nodded pensively.
"Yeah."
London, England
"Good evening, Mr. Prescott."
Oliver nodded and smiled at his girlfriend's Secret Service agents cordially.
"She's expecting me."
"She's gone out for a few minutes, and instructed us to let you inside."
"Oh. Okay…where did she go?"
"She can tell you that when she gets back."
"All right."
One of the agents unlocked Zoey's hotel room door, waited for him to walk inside, then closed the door behind him. He walked around aimlessly, glancing at various items in the room, and finally stopping to look out the window. He then heard a loud, crashing noise come from the room next door, as if something had fallen, and then broken into pieces. Oliver walked over to the door that connected Zoey's room with Abbey's and listened for a moment. When he didn't hear a sound, he tapped lightly on the door.
"Who is it?" Came the muffled voice from the other room.
Oliver turned the knob and pushed the door open.
"Mrs. Bartlet?"
"Damnit," she whispered.
The room was almost completely dark, except for the lights that shone up through the window from the street lamps below. He squinted, looking around for the person he knew was there. It was not long before his eyes fell upon her, huddling in a corner of the room, her knees drawn up to her chest, and an unidentified object in her hand. Nervously, he began to walk towards her.
"Mrs. Bartlet, is everything all right?"
"Fine."
It was then that he noticed what she was holding- a glass of red wine. She brought the glass to her lips and swallowed its entire contents in one gulp. As he got closer, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes and her tear-stained cheeks.
"What happened?" Oliver asked, now very alarmed by the sight before him.
"I told you, I'm fine."
This was far from the image of Abbey Bartlet he was used to. The elegant, poised, confident, charming woman the world knew and loved. Quite frankly, he was a bit taken aback by it. He kneeled down in front of her and looked into her now very sad-looking green eyes.
"Why are you doing this?" Oliver questioned seriously, his eyes searching hers for an unspoken answer.
She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips.
"Why do you care?"
With that, she poured more of the red wine into her glass and brought it to her lips once more.
"Well," Oliver said, thoughtfully. "In addition to being my girlfriend's mother, you also happen to be my father's girlfriend. So needless to say, I do have a certain amount of respect, and now concern, for you, Abbey."
"I appreciate that, Oliver. Really, I do. Now go away," Abbey said, taking another sip from her glass.
"What is it? Why now?"
"That's none of your business."
"Looks like you need to tell someone. You've alienated everyone who means anything to you," Oliver said.
She glared at him angrily, looking him straight in the eyes.
"You're free to go at any time, you know."
"You've hurt your husband, your children, your friends, your staff, and you're about to hurt my father. So why do it? I mean, you're obviously not thrilled with the arrangement either."
"How the hell do you know!" Abbey snapped back.
"All due respect, Abbey, but you're curled up in a corner of a London hotel room drinking yourself into oblivion! So, why!"
"You want to know why?"
"Yes," Oliver replied, nodding.
"Because everything is wrong! I fucked it all up, okay!"
He was absolutely stunned when she burst out into tears. Never would he have thought he'd see the day when Abbey Bartlet cried in front of him, or anyone really.
"I have nothing. I'm alone with a bottle of Cabernet on my anniversary. This is what I've come to. It was so easy before, back when I was the one in control. Back when he was wrong, and I thought I had every right to seek revenge. I feigned happiness and pretended I wasn't phased in the least by any of this. I had no idea what I was doing. I just knew I was angry and I wanted to hurt him. Oh, Lord, I wanted to hurt him so bad. I wanted to hurt him the way he hurt me. Now I'm the one to blame. You're right. I've alienated everyone who means anything to me! Even my daughters think I'm a selfish bitch. And I am. That's the worst part! I am. But I thought could do it. I swear to God, I thought I could do it. I was so…sure I could do it without him. I can't even get through the day! Who was I kidding? Everyone. Everyone, I fooled everyone. I think I even fooled my husband into thinking I don't love him anymore. Now, there isn't a damn thing in this world I can do to fix it. We're both too fucking stubborn to confess, to admit our weaknesses. Tomorrow, I'll go out into the world and I'll smile like nothing's wrong. Like I'm so tough. Like I have no regrets in the world about what I've done."
She took a moment to catch her breath and look up at the person who unfortunately had been caught standing still, forced into hearing her confession.
"I would've been fine for awhile, you know. But then this day…these memories…anniversaries past. No anniversaries future. Everything I've ever known, gone. All my mistakes caught up with me today, when I remembered the laughter, the passionate arguments, the playful banter, the deep, intellectual discussions that lasted until the early hours of the morning. Waking up early and watching him as he slept, or waking up late to find him watching me. It's all gone. I sacrificed it to feed my ego, to fuel my need for vengeance. My marriage is nothing but old ruins now."
"I…I don't know what to say," he whispered. "I'm sorry."
Abbey looked away from him and took another drink.
"Don't apologize."
"No, I'm sorry. I am. I didn't know."
Abbey shrugged, brushing it off, and took yet another drink.
"How could you have?"
"I shouldn't have been so insensitive. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that. I'm sorry."
She held up her glass as if to toast him, then brought it back down to her lips.
"So you've mentioned."
Oliver and Abbey heard the door to Zoey's room fly open, and footsteps nearby.
"Oliver!" Zoey called. "Oliver, the agents said you were in here…"
Oliver quickly jumped up, sent Abbey a sympathetic, apologetic look, then ran back into Zoey's room and closed the door.
"Where were you?" Zoey asked, curiously.
"I might ask you the same thing."
"I went down to the store across the street. I've officially cleaned out my mini-bar."
"I see. Ready to go?"
"Were you in my mother's…"
He looped his arm through hers and pulled her out of the room.
"Have you seen your mother today?"
Zoey's face clearly expressed her confusion as she answered.
"Not for a few hours. I was in there earlier, but she said that she…"
"Okay," Oliver said, interrupting her suddenly. "Let's go."
Washington, D.C.
"So this is the McGarry suite," Millicent Griffith observed, walking around Leo's hotel room skeptically.
Leo nodded.
"This is the McGarry suite. If you want to call it that."
"I hope you didn't bring me here because you were hoping to get lucky, old man."
"Who you calling old?"
"Look in the mirror and see for yourself," Millie replied. "It's nice. I like it."
"I don't exactly see much of it. It's got a bed, a shower, and a roof. And the whole maid thing does come in handy, I admit."
"Hmm."
She sat down on the couch in the middle of the room and crossed her legs, causing her skirt to hike up just a little bit.
"So. What'd you have in mind?"
He took a deep breath before sitting down beside her on the couch.
"Well, I…I was thinking of ordering room service and having a nice, quiet evening at…home."
Millie laughed.
"Home, huh?"
"Yeah," Leo answered, smiling. "How do you feel about filet mignon?"
"How does anyone feel about filet mignon?"
"I take it you approve."
"I do indeed."
"Shrimp cocktail?"
"Have you ever known me to turn down shrimp?"
"Not in the last thirty years," Leo answered.
"There you have it."
"I'm glad you came, Millie. I wasn't sure you'd want to go out with me again."
"Why wouldn't I?"
"The way I left you hanging at the restaurant last time…"
"Leo, you're the President's right hand man. You've got responsibilies. I'm not exactly a stranger to responsibilities myself. I have a pretty important job too, ya know," Millie responded.
"Thank you for understanding."
"I'm a doctor, Leo. I think you'll find I have an infinite amount of patience."
Leo laughed.
"Being a doctor doesn't mean you're patient. I think your best friend proves that pretty well."
"Abbey's patient! She just…doesn't like to wait."
"Sir, we are not leaving you," CJ stated.
The senior staff had the President surrounded in the Residence. He had changed for the evening into his sweat pants and Notre Dame tee-shirt, while the staff still wore their suits from the day.
"Guys, this really is not neccesary."
"We will not leave you alone on your anniversary, sir. We refuse," Josh said.
"You refuse?"
"Yes."
"What do you propose we do all evening then?" Jed questioned.
"I…well, we…hadn't thought of that," Sam replied.
"We could play Scrabble," Will suggested.
"Aha! Scrabble. Excellent."
The rest of the staff groaned.
"Thanks for that, Will," Sam said.
"We'll be here all night," Toby added.
"You know better than to suggest word games around the President!" Josh exclaimed.
"Damnit," CJ muttered under her breath.
"I'll go get the game! Gather around the dining room table, friends, 'cause you're about to get your asses kicked!"
London, England
"I'm sorry about this, Oliver," Zoey said, honestly.
"It's fine, Zoey. I swear to God, it's fine. You can stop apologizing."
They stood, side by side, in the hotel elevator going up.
"I promise we'll go back to Kent tomorrow. And I'll stay the night. It's just that...tonight of all nights, I'm worried about her. I don't want to leave her alone all night. She's never been alone on her anniversary before. I don't feel right out having fun with you while she's by herself."
The elevator stopped, the doors slid open, and they stepped out.
"Zoey."
He stopped her before she turned the key in her mother's door.
"What?"
"Fair warning. You may be surprised by what you see when you walk in there."
"What are you talking about?"
"Before we left for Kent, you were right. I was in your mother's room."
"But…"
"She's not in the best shape, Zoey."
"Screw this, I'm going in."
She quickly twisted the key, unlocked the door, and ran into her mother's room. It was just the way Oliver had left it many hours earlier. Only this time, its occupant wasn't drinking- because she wasn't conscious.