I'm not so good with planning. I offer Valentine's Day as evidence. It's not so much that I am incapable of planning; it's Fate seems to have it in for me. That did not deter me from attempting some Memorial Day weekend planning.
My original plan involved spending the entire weekend in the office. When the President found out Donna's parents and brother were coming into town, he ordered us both to take a three-day weekend.
Plan A foiled.
My next plan was to trade Bruno a date with Margaret for sending me to Alaska. I think it would have worked if Leo hadn't gotten wind of it, telling me Margaret didn't need a date and Alaska didn't need my presence.
Plan B foiled.
I never got to Plan C, CJ threatened to tell Donna about my scheming. Never, ever fight the power of the Sisterhood. Margaret, in a huff Plan B was shot down, told Donna about my scheming anyway. Donna was then pissed at me for trying to duck her family.
See what I mean about the whole planning/Fate thing?
Donna did get over it after Spongebob, Patrick and Gary explained everything to Squarepants and the Wonder Twins.
Hey, if she gets to name my nads, I get to name her breasts.
Anyway, all of that is to explain why I am standing outside the security area at National Airport (I refuse to call it Reagan) with Donna waiting for a Midwest Express flight from Milwaukee at 10:30 a.m. on a Saturday.
I've never met her parents, but I can easily spot Paul Moss trudging through the crowds. Donna is a striking image of her dad, only about three inches shorter.
I hang back a bit while they exchange hugs. Donna pulls me forward after they're done, to introduce me.
***
I introduce Josh as simply Josh. I don't qualify him as either my boss or my boyfriend.
Daddy is looking at him awfully weird. When Josh says hello and offers his hand, Dad shakes it, but with some hesitation, I guess is the right word.
Then I notice the copy of Newsweek he's carrying. Oh, great. I'm not going to say anything in a public place, but I will nip this apparent misconception in the bud. Dad goes to get the rental, while Mom, Freddy, Josh and I go get their luggage.
Like he always does when we're walking together in public, Josh has one hand in the small of my back as we make our way to the luggage pick-up. It's a safe demonstration of affection.
It makes my mother look twice at him.
I explain to Mom that Josh and I would like to take them out to an early lunch before they check in at the hotel. Mom agrees, all they got on the plane was a muffin.
By the time we get to the Hertz counter, Dad has the keys.
"Fracheli's?" Josh confirms with me once we've loaded their car.
"Yeah. I called Vinnie yesterday. Be careful, he's pissed at you."
"What now? This isn't still the spork thing is it?" Josh whines.
Vinnie Fracheli's wife has a serious crush on the Senate Minority Leader. Josh was banned for a month after he threatened to rip the man's heart out.
"Nope," I smile at him sweetly.
He groans in response before kissing me and heading for our car.
My dad looks upset by the kiss Josh and I shared. I guess now is as good as time as any to talk about the Newsweek thing.
I hold my hand out to him for the keys. After he drops them in my hand, I look him in the eye.
"He's not gay, Daddy,"
Nobody says a word until I hit the interstate. Surprisingly, it's my mother who brings it up.
"How do you know for sure, dear?"
"Because I'm sleeping with him."
I've rendered them speechless.
"You're sleeping with that man?" I get the distinct impression that Dad is not upset because he thinks Josh is gay.
I fear for Spongebob.
"Okay, let's clear something up right now." I'm driving with one hand and gesturing with the other. "That man, as you so rudely referred to him as, is Josh. The man I love. The man who loves me. He is the man I am going to spend the rest of my life with. The man who will be the father of my children, your grandchildren. I suggest you either accept that and be polite or after lunch you can head to your hotel and not bother to call me the rest of your stay here in DC. Oh, and forget about ever seeing the grandchildren."
That felt good.
"Donna, sweetheart, don't take this the wrong way, but after the fiasco with Brian, I question your taste in men," Dad clarifies.
I don't blame him there. After the fiasco with Brian, I question my taste in men.
Dad's rambling on about something, I tune back in to hear. "However, you seem to feel passionately about Josh being the one. I promise, I will reconsider my present opinion."
"Oh." Guess I over-reacted there. "It's been a long week," I explain.
"I can imagine." Mom leans forward from the backseat and pats my shoulder.
Josh is arguing with Vinnie Fracheli about something when we get there. Vinnie is this old, Italian guy, who knows Josh's family somehow. He's had Josh and me figured out since the day he met me.
"Ahh! My Donnatella!" He interrupts his own tirade to hug me. He shakes hands with my dad, kisses my mom and tells Freddy to stay away from his granddaughters.
A dark-haired girl brings us a basket of bread after Vinnie seats us at his best table. Josh and I share a grin when Fred tries to flirt with her. After she walks away, Josh turns to my little brother.
"You know how Vinnie just told you to stay away from his granddaughters?" he asks Fred.
"Yeah." My brother sounds unsure of himself.
Josh nods after the young woman. "That's Connie. She's his granddaughter."
Vinnie must have caught the end of that, because when he sets two bottles of wine on the table, he looks sternly at my brother.
"You pay attention to what I said, young man. Or I'll have Joshua rip your heart out with a spoon."
"Spork." Josh and I both correct him at the same time.
He tells us what the special is, pours the wine and then takes orders from Mom, Dad and Freddy.
When he starts to walk off, my mom stops him.
"You didn't take their order," she nods at us.
"They order the same thing every time they come in here. Donnatella gets the ziti; Joshua gets the manicotti with two meatballs. Then, they fight over who gets to eat what."
***
I'm laughing at Donna, who has turned bright red. Her parents are smiling as well. They're starting to loosen up a bit.
Bringing them here was a good idea.
I guess I should explain this whole Vinnie Fracheli thing. He was in Europe with the Army during World War II and helped a bunch of Polish Jews escape from Russian-occupied territory after the liberation of Auschwitz and Birkenau. One of those people was my grandfather, who kept in touch with Vinnie over the years. About 30 years ago, my dad loaned Vinnie the money to keep this place open and make some renovations. The loan has been long paid back and Vinnie even gave me a job waiting tables when I was an intern on the Hill, but I've never been allowed to pay for a meal here.
That's what he and I were arguing about earlier.
They all make small talk about family until the food comes and true to form, Donna goes after one of my meatballs.
"Ouch!"
Deborah looks over, slightly concerned.
"He stabbed me," Donna whines.
"You want a meatball, tell Vinnie. He'll bring you your own," I retort.
She gives me the pouty face.
"All I want is half of one of yours, Josh. It's not unreasonable."
For some reason, Vinnie's wife Rose makes her appearance at this point by smacking the back of my head
She's been doing that since the day I was born, I swear to God.
"Share with Donna, Joshua. Or I'll kick you out of here for another month."
"Kick me out again and I'll tell Toby the real reason I was banned last time. He'll take you off the authorized delivery list so fast it'll make your head spin," I tell her.
"Don't use your lines on me, boy. I'll call your mother." She tells me off before turning to Donna. "What do you see in this politician?"
Notice she calls me boy'? I'm forty years old, Rose still calls me boy.'
"Rose, he stabbed me with his fork." The ever-faithful Donna rats me out.
"At least it wasn't a spork," Paul pipes up from the other side of the table.
***
You bring up a spork and I have to giggle. It's the word itself. Spork. Kind of like vagina isn't it? Or not.
Rosie just shakes her head before stalking back to the kitchen.
My mother stares at her antipasti for a moment before asking, "What's the story with the spork?"
"You tell it," I say to Josh, taking the meatball he's offering me.
He blushes slightly. I haven't even heard the whole story, but Leo forbade me to send an apology note.
"I was having a discussion with Senator Calhoun, the Senate Minority Leader, about the abstinence rider the Republicans attached to the education reform bill. He made some comment about how if they'd taught abstinence in schools 10 years ago, maybe Charlie would know enough to keep his hands off the President's daughter. I told him that if he ever talked about Charlie or Zoey that way again, I'd rip his heart out with a spork."
"Charlie Young is the President's personal aide. He's been dating Zoey Bartlet for a couple of years," I fill in some details for my parents.
Dad is nodding his approval of Josh's actions.
We spend the rest of lunch talking about the sights they want to see and when would be a good time to go where. We decide to let them get settled into the hotel and then go down to the Mall this afternoon. Connie comes back to offer us desert, but nobody has room for anything more.
"I think we'll just take the check," Dad offers.
She nods and heads off to talk to Vinnie.
"Donna, why don't you get the car," Josh says. "I'll settle up with Vinnie."
***
I'm not even allowed to leave a tip in this place, but I don't want to explain it to Paul and Deb.
Her dad gives me a funny look, but heads out the door with Donna.
I thank Vinnie for his hospitality. He yells at me for not bringing Donna by more often.
"If you'd let me pay for a meal once in a while, old man, we'd come in here more often."
"When are you going to do right by that girl?"
Vinnie can change the subject faster than anyone I know, including Donna.
I grin at him and pull the ring box out of my pocket. I got it out of the safety deposit box last Friday afternoon, with the intent to hide it in my office until this Friday.
"Very nice," he comments. "Come back when it's on her finger."
"Thanks, Vinnie."
***
"Josh didn't have to pay for lunch," Dad says while we wait.
"Daddy, don't make a fuss. He wanted to."
That part is true. Vinnie just won't let him. I don't completely understand the situation; Josh never seems willing to talk about it when I try to weasel it out of him.
He comes out of the restaurant just after I finish giving my parents directions to the hotel I was ordered set them up in.
Anyway, Mom, Dad and Freddy are going to go check in. Josh and I are going to head back to his place to clean up, since we both sort of overslept' this morning.
"I've got 12:30 right now," Mom tells me, verifying the time.
"We'll meet you at the hotel at 2 o'clock."
When she nods her agreement, I hand her Josh's home number. "Call if you have any problems."
***
We do finally get around to actually showering.
Which is when I discover I left a small hickey behind Josh's ear.
"Whoops!" I tell him after he notices it in the mirror.
"I've been branded!" he declares in mock horror.
I throw a t-shirt at him.
"Like you don't do that to me all the time. Hurry up. We're going to be late."
"I suppose it would be bad if we were almost late to see your family twice in one day because we were practicing."
"Sex, Josh. It's sex. You can say the word."
Pulling his sandals on in an effort to comply with my demand to hurry up, he shoots me a look.
"I can say the word sex. I prefer, however, to think of it as baby-making practice."
Have I ever mentioned how weird Josh can be?
Standing up, he puts his hands on his hips.
"Am I presentable?"
I survey his outfit: sandals, no socks; well-worn blue jeans with a hole in the butt revealing a little bit of Aquaman boxer shorts; and a gray t-shirt with a giant Democratic donkey and the words Vote for him instead' emblazoned on the back.
The front says Don't feed the jackass.'
I have no idea where he got that shirt, but I'm stealing it.
***
We're only a few minutes late to meet my family. Since it's only a short distance from the Willard to the Mall, we decide to walk.
I tend to forget how long Josh has lived in Washington, until he decides to play tour guide. We're walk down Pennsylvania Avenue with him explaining some obscure bit of political history to my dad and pointing out the odd landmark to my mom.
Freddy wants to go to the top of the Washington Monument. We decide to do that first, since it's only open until 4:30. Mom hates heights, so she, Dad and Josh agree to wait, while I go up with Fred.
***
The first thing I did when I came to DC as an intern was to go to the top of the Monument. It's a spectacular view, but I got vertigo so bad I couldn't enjoy it.
Besides, this gives me an opportunity to talk to Paul and Deb about my intentions. Not that I need their permission, nor am I asking. Donna would kill me if I asked her Dad for permission to marry her, then tell CJ, who would have a bonfire and marshmallow roast with what was left of my body.
I get us drinks from one of the vendors and we sit down on a bench to wait. While I'm trying to think of a way to broach the subject, her mom suddenly speaks up.
"Donna seems very happy."
I don't know how mothers do that. Is it some kind of hormone during pregnancy that turns women into psychics?
"I'd like to make her even happier," I begin.
Paul looks across his wife at me. I look up from my shoes and meet his gaze.
"Sir, I want to marry your daughter."
"Somehow, I get the impression that you aren't asking for our blessing."
He doesn't sound upset, just curious.
"No, sir. Just advising you of my intentions."
I refuse to break eye contact. It's become a staring contest.
Deb makes a snorting noise. "If you two are done with the male posturing, I have some questions."
Donna may look like her Dad, but her personality is identical to her mother's.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Have you bought a ring?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Have you two discussed your future?"
I smile, remembering the conversation we had at Christmas time. "Yes, ma'am. We have discussed children, religion, careers, housing, whose family we're spending what holidays with and cremation versus traditional burial."
They both laugh.
"Seriously, I do want you both to understand something. My goal in life is to make Donna happy."
Those few words bring tears to her mother's eyes and she wraps me in a hug. "Despite the fact that you are not asking for our blessing, you have it," Deb whispers in my ear.
"Thank you," I whisper back.
***
The elevator ride up almost made Fred sick, so we didn't stay long.
I quickly spot my parents sitting on a bench with Josh, talking. We're about twenty feet from them when my mother suddenly reaches over and hugs him.
This makes me incredibly nervous for some reason.
"Well, that was quick!" Dad comments when we get closer.
"Freddy almost got sick," I explain.
We spend the rest of the afternoon wandering around the Mall, checking out memorials and sightseeing, before watching the sunset from the Tidal Basin.
Walking back towards the Willard, Josh suddenly asks if they want a tour of the White House.
"Josh?" I poke him in the arm. "Need I remind you of a certain Executive Order banning both of us from the office?"
"Don't be a spoilsport, Donna. He meant we weren't supposed to work."
I do not like the smirk on his face. It worries me almost as much as the hug my mother was giving him.
***
I have orders to bring Paul and Deb Moss to the White House at some point during the weekend. Orders that override my Presidentially mandated three-day weekend.
You've got it. Orders from Abigail Bartlet.
I think this has something to do with whatever happened between Donna and Mrs. Bartlet at her birthday party. All I know for sure is I got a phone call from the First Lady on Friday to "quietly bring her parents in."
I sign everyone in at the security desk and we head towards the Communications bullpen. Sam is in his office, pounding away on the President's Memorial Day speech for Monday at the Pentagon.
"Aren't you done, yet?"
"Jesus Christ, Josh!" He jumps about six inches. "Hi, Donna."
"You okay, Sam?" she asks.
"I need a new phrase for unyielding determination."
"Cut the damn paragraph!" Toby yells from next door.
"Steadfast resolve," I offer.
Sam ponders it for a second, nods and scribbles something on a note pad. He finally notices there are people with us and gives me a questioning look.
"I want you to meet Donna's parents, Paul and Deb, and her brother, Fred."
He comes out from behind his desk, offering his hand.
"Sam Seaborn, Deputy Communications Director."
Toby sticks his head out of his office when he hears the location of Sam's voice change.
Whatever Toby was going to lay into him about dies on his lips when he sees guests.
Donna does more introductions. Toby is as polite as Toby can be.
"Can I see you in your office for a minute?" he asks me after a couple of minutes of small talk.
"Sure. Donna?"
"We'll meet you there," she answers my unspoken question.
Toby looks over his shoulder as we walk away. "Cut the paragraph, Sam. Steadfast resolve isn't any better."
***
We finish up in Communications, then head through the Roosevelt Room, the Mural Room and a few other small meeting rooms. The Press Room is 95% empty on a Saturday night, but they're impressed nonetheless.
Toby's gone by the time we make it to the Operations bullpen, but Josh's desk light is on. I show them my desk area and then knock on Josh's doorframe.
He's making notes on a file.
"Just a second," he says.
Dad shakes his head, looking around the office. It's filled with crap Josh has collected over the years. Everything from an autographed Kennedy for President' poster to the Bartlet for America II' cast they cut off his leg a few weeks ago.
He makes a couple more notes before picking up his phone. "Does he have a minute, Charlie?"
"Okay, Thanks."
Josh gives me an apologetic smile. "I've got to walk this down to him."
My parents look a bit confused, but trail along behind us down the halls.
Blue jeans and his obnoxious t-shirt are not exactly proper attire for the Oval Office, but Josh knocks twice at the door before opening it and stepping in. I can hear Admiral Fitzwallace and Nancy McNally both make laughing comments about the shirt.
We're chitchatting with Charlie when the First Lady suddenly makes an appearance.
She introduces herself to my family, telling them it's very nice to meet them.
"I can't tell you how valuable Donna is to this administration. She has a refreshing, original viewpoint on many things and she's not afraid to express it. I honestly don't know what we'd do around here without her."
Wow.
When I glance towards the Oval Office, Josh is leaning against the door, smiling at me with a look of pride in his eyes.
"And what country are we invading today, Josh?" Abbey asks, noticing his presence.
"Canada is on the slate for today, I believe, ma'am."
"At least we'll get some good beer out of it," she laughs, turning to go. "Nice shirt, by the way."
***
The rest of the weekend is uneventful.
We spend Sunday and Monday in the car touring surrounding area. If I never hear the words are we there yet' again, it might be too soon. It was the family vacation flashback from hell. Visions of me, Pat and Freddy in the station wagon on our way to visit Mount Rushmore kept dancing through my head.
Josh gets bored faster than any nine-year-old I ever met. There's about one way to relax him on a car trip if he's not driving. Since I was driving and my family was along, it wasn't like I could reach over and give him a hand job or anything.
Tuesday, Josh and I went back to work. Freddy's campus visit at Georgetown was that day, so the family was occupied. They had made plans to see the Smithsonian on Wednesday and do some other sightseeing on Thursday. Which was good, because I had to work in some dress shopping for the State Dinner.
Thursday night, we took them to dinner at The Palms. Fred told us all about how much he liked Georgetown. He was raving about this 5-year program the business school has that's a bachelors' degree in Business Administration and a masters' in Foreign Service. Josh was the only person that seemed at all interested, probably because he's the only one who understands what you do with that kind of an education.
My parents just want him to finish college. Something Patricia and I both managed to not do.
Today is Friday. Tonight is the State Dinner and Josh has been acting bizarre all day. He shut himself in his office this morning, took Zoey Bartlet to lunch and has been in Leo's office all afternoon.
It's very weird. Something is definitely going on, I decide as I head to CJ's office to change for the Dinner.
***
Toby, Sam and I are down in the men's locker room, sans bathrobes, putting our monkey suits on. The President has decreed it a white tie event. We're cool with that, we look good in white ties and tails.
"What the matter with you?" Sam asks when I drop my cufflinks for the third time.
"I'm nervous," I admit.
"The State Dinner is making you nervous?" Toby scoffs, giving me a look.
I pull the small velvet box out of my jacket pocket and toss it to him.
"No. That is."
Toby opens the box to look at the ring I picked out.
Sam leans over to get a look. "Matt picked this out?"
"Actually, I did. He just confirmed it for me."
"He does have good taste." My best friend whistles softly and reaches out to touch it.
Toby snaps the box shut before Sam can smudge it.
"I have heard things," Toby starts, handing me the box back.
"He's not gay," Sam pipes up. "And I'd just like to go on the record saying I wasn't pissed off at you because I thought you were. I was pissed because we've been friends for twenty years and I thought you didn't trust me enough to tell me."
Toby glares at him. "Sam?"
He turns from me to Toby. "What?"
"Shut up."
"Okay."
Sam decides to help put my cufflinks on instead, because I've now dropped them for the fifth time.
"I have occasionally overheard snippets of Donna talking to CJ. Donna's car died two months ago and instead of getting a different one, she rides to work with you or, oddly, she drives your new car and you walk. I am neither blind nor stupid. Neither are you and Donna. Congratulations."
Toby finishes his speech, hooks his tie on, turns on his heel and heads upstairs.
"Do you know what you're going to say to her?" Sam asks.
I nod, slinging my tie around my neck.
"Zoey is sending her to meet me in the Rose Garden at 9 o'clock. Even if I turn into a bumbling idiot, she can always say I proposed there."
"The Rose Garden? Who the hell are you and what have you done with my completely non-romantic friend?"
I shake my head and laugh at him as we leave the locker room.
***
CJ and I are in her office trying to get my hair to stay up when Josh knocks on the door.
"Help." I can hear him pleading through the door.
We look at each other and grin. "The Tony Bennett look," we chorus, opening the door for him.
Josh's jaw drops when he sees me.
I found this full length, ivory dress at a consignment shop. It's low cut, sleeveless and has a built in Wonderbra.
God bless the Wonderbra people. Can we get them a government subsidy in the next budget?
Josh and I get a few looks when we enter the East Room together. DC is still buzzing about the Newsweek article. Most people probably think I'm here in my normal capacity as Josh's assistant.
In a minor breach of protocol, Josh and I end up at the same table as the President, First Lady, Chancellor Erik Mueller and his wife, Danielle. Chancellor Mueller speaks excellent English, but his wife of three years speaks little. She's Polish and speaks flawless German, but has been struggling to learn English.
I took German for six years in school. Ten years later, I can order a beer and ask where the bathroom is. Josh, on the other hand, turns out to be fairly fluent in Polish. The two of them are having a lively conversation in Mrs. Mueller's native language, although I think I'm hearing some Yiddish in there, too.
"I didn't realize Mr. Lyman spoke Polish," the Chancellor remarks.
"Yeah, but look at them. They're probably plotting the overthrow of NATO," President Bartlet quips.
"No, sir. We're debating the likelihood of the Mets making the Series this year."
Josh is discussing baseball with the German chancellor's wife in Polish. This day just got even weirder.
Abbey picks that moment to say she needs to visit the ladies' room. Mrs. Mueller and I agree to go with her.
"Even here they go in packs." Chancellor Mueller comments as we walk away.
***
Once the three of them are gone, I look at the President, silently asking his permission to go.
"Let me see it first," he says, holding his hand out.
I hand him the ring box, hoping nobody else notices.
"Nervous?" Erik asks me, looking at the ring.
"Terrified," I admit.
"Good luck, son." Bartlet tells me, giving me the ring back and shaking my hand.
As I head for the exit, I catch Sam's eye. He smiles and gives me a thumbs up.
***
Zoey's waiting outside the ladies' room when we exit.
"Josh went out to the Rose Garden. He wanted to get some air before the dancing starts," she says. "He asked me to ask you to meet him out there."
That's weird. Despite his claims to the contrary, Josh is not an outdoorsman. Fresh air causes him to break out in a rash.
I'm surprised at how beautiful the garden is at night. It's softly illuminated by the lights from the House. Josh is leaning against a column, looking up at the sky, muttering to himself.
***
I'm leaning against this column, praying for God to give me the strength to do this. Does that tell you what this means to me? The fact I'm praying?
When I hear the click of her heels on the pavement, I say one last prayer.
***
He gives me the dimples when he looks at me.
"What's up?" I ask. This is the culmination of today's weirdness, I can feel it.
"Donna, I want to ask you something." Josh begins, hesitantly.
He leads me over to one of the stone benches and we sit, facing each other.
"You know I love you very much. More than life. I would do anything you asked me to do."
"Josh" I start.
He touches a finger to my lips to silence me.
"But I have one thing to ask you."
Oh my God.
Joshua gets down on one knee in front of me and holds up a small, black box.
I can't believe this is happening.
"Donnatella, will you do me the honor of being my wife?"
I can't speak. Josh has asked me to marry him and I am speechless.
He's looking at me expectantly.
I finally find my voice. "Oh, Joshua. Yes."
***
I slip the ring on her finger, stand and pull her to me so I can kiss her.
"I love you so much," I tell her when we break the kiss.
She nestles her head on my shoulder and clings to me tightly.
I don't want this moment to ever end.
I can feel her start to giggle at something against my shoulder. Turning to look, I see the President and First Lady have gathered with the senior staff at a window to watch.
"You realize you've outed yourself as a romantic," she whispers to me as we slowly head inside, arm in arm.
"I'm pretty much screwed there aren't I?" I ask her with a grin.
"Yeah, but I'll marry you anyway," she decides as we walk into the congratulations of our friends and co-workers.
Sometimes, the best laid plans go off without a hitch.