I love my sister a great deal.
Nothing else would explain why I agreed to drive halfway across the country in a 1965 Ford Mustang convertible with rearwheel drive and a 5speed, manual transmission. With my little brother and my twoandahalf year old son.
Thankfully, I left Kelley with Mom and Dad.
We left Madison Friday afternoon around 2, stopped in Nowheresville, Kentucky for the night and now I'm trying to navigate downtown Washington, D.C.
In a sleet storm, at dusk.
I suppose I could stop and ask for directions, but who's going to believe me when I tell them I need directions to the White House staff parking lot on a Saturday night?
Pat, I think we drove past it again, Fred points at a gate I've seen three times.
I go around the block again.
Pat Schneider? the guard asks when I roll down my window. And Fred Moss?
Freddy and I both nod.
Follow Nick in the golf cart, he'll show you where to park.
Nick guides us through row after row of parking spots until we reach the one closest to the building. Not only are these reserved spots; they've got signs with names on them.
I back the Mustang into the one labeled J. Lyman.' Working Timmy out of his car seat, I wonder aloud where Josh's car is.
They used Mrs. Lyman's spot, Nick points three spots down to the Audi in a spot reserved for D. Lyman.'
Donna has her own parking spot? Fred is staring at the sign, rain dripping off his chin.
It's new, the guard laughs. Came with her promotion. The entrance is straight ahead. The agents will call someone to sign you in.
Thank you, I smile at the guy and sling Tim's diaperbag over my shoulder before leading the way.
Fred asks while we wait for someone to show up.
I shrug. I haven't had a chance to talk to Donna since she and Josh left Madison. I've been too busy moving back home and trying to find a job.
Fucking Gerry.
Hi, I'm Debbie. I'm Donna's assistant. Debbie looks like she might be a couple of years older than Fred. She's short and a little chunky, but seems like a nice person. Donna's in a meeting and Mr. Lyman is in with the President, but if you want to come on back, you can wait in the bullpen.
***
The last two weeks have been such a complete whirlwind I barely know where to start.
Okay, how about with my new title? Assistant Deputy Chief of Staff for Domestic Policy. Leo thought it up all on his own, Margaret told me.
The office I was given is CJ's old one, the one with the adjoining door to Josh's.
Handy as all get out for lots of reasons.
Then there's Debbie, the intern I adopted on election night. Turns out she graduates from Bryn Mawr in May, as soon as her internship is up, with a degree in Political Science and a minor in Feminist and Gender Studies. Once she graduates, we're hiring her fulltime. Until then, she's still technically an intern.
Josh and I are sharing her at the moment because he can't find anybody he trusts.
He's interviewed 3 candidates a day, every day, for the past 14 days.
You do the math.
Anyway, my new job might actually be easier than the old one, but the jury's still out on it.
We'll see what happens once Josh gets an assistant of his own.
In the short term, the goal is to get Debbie to stop calling him Mr. Lyman.'
Your sister and brother are here, Debbie intercepts me as soon as she sees me heading down the hallway. Mr. Lyman is still in the Oval Office and your doctor called to reschedule your appointment next week from Friday to Thursday.
How did Josh's interviews go? This is the first group I've missed. I had a meeting out of the building.
Debbie just shakes her head in a cross between amusement and sympathy. How do you live with him?
I laugh as I open the door to my office.
***
There's nothing like missing a good basketball game to listen to the President play mediator to the Secretary of Agriculture and the Secretary of the Interior while they argue over grazing rights.
Especially when you're not sure what grazing rights are, much less how they relate to Homeland Security.
The outcome of my agreement with Donna regarding the purchase of our new vehicle hinges on tonight's game though, so all is not lost. As long as Texas beats Arizona.
Go Longhorns!
Charlie ushers the still sparring Secretaries out of the Oval Office at 6:00. Bartlet promised the entire staff the day would be over by 6:30; giving everyone plenty of time to get wherever they're headed for the second game.
This Administration is the biggest bunch of closet basketball junkies you've ever laid eyes on. Monday the place will be deserted by 6 o'clock at the absolute latest.
CJ, Sam and Toby are heading to the sports bar we've watched the Final Four at for the past five years. Even if Pat and Fred weren't in town, Donna and I wouldn't be going this year. The smoke makes us both uneasy.
Go home, Josh. Get used to the idea of driving a minivan. Bartlet gathers his briefcase and shoos me out of the room.
I snort, but don't argue and take off for my office.
***
A speeding toddler appears from nowhere, streaking towards me as fast as his little legs can carry him.
Unca Joss!
Oh, joy. I didn't know Pat was bringing VelcroBoy along.
It's hard to be annoyed. When I pick Tim up he throws his arms around my neck, resting his head on my shoulder and sticks his thumb in his mouth contentedly.
Donna is waiting with my coat and her siblings.
Are we? I give Pat a hug and shake hands with Fred.
I even ordered the pizza already, she announces, shepherding us all to the lobby.
You mean you made Debbie order the pizza already, I tease her. She's really into having an assistant of her own.
***
I stick my tongue out at him. Who's riding with who?
We men will take the muscle car, Josh announces, taking the keys from Pat and handing me the keys to the Audi.
Then you men can stop and get the ice cream.
There are four different kinds of ice cream in the freezer Josh trails off at the look on my face. He's becoming increasingly familiar with the I have a craving' face.
Mint chocolate chip, I order, hurrying past him through the sleet to the Audi.
Pat starts laughing as soon as we close the doors. See, Gerry would have just told me to go get it my damn self.
Gerry was a jackass, Pat.
Josh filled me on the trip back to D.C. I was a bit surprised she got drunk and told Josh before anyone else, but I really appreciate her keeping it quiet until after the wedding.
Pat's cool like that.
I know, I just she stops and stares out the window as I park the car.
This is what we're going to do. We are going to go upstairs, eat pizza and ice cream, watch Arizona kick Texas' ass and then start picking out minivans. We are not going to talk about Gerry, I announce. It's obvious she's trying not to cry and doesn't really want to talk about it.
You aren't really going to make him get a minivan, are you?
I get the feeling she's siding with Josh.
It's practical, I protest as I unlock the apartment door.
It's still a minivan.
***
Fred is looking at me expectantly when I get back in the car.
I don't even remember what we were talking about before I ran into the store to grab the mint chocolate chip ice cream and a sixpack of Sam Adams.
You ready to drive a minivan?
He's laughing, which means he knows something I don't know he knows.
I just wouldn't have made that bet is all.
Why not?
Donna's using my picks, he shrugs. I'm pretty sure you got suckered.
***
My night stacks up like this: two halves, 187 points, three overtimes, two pizzas, a gallon of ice cream, six beers and one minivan.
Texas loses 94 to 93 on a miraculous last second threepointer by Arizona's Luke Walton.
***
Josh is sitting in front of the TV with his mouth hanging open in shock and disbelief.
I am so getting a minivan.
I'm going to head to bed, then, Pat says, heading towards the spare room where Timmy is long asleep.
Fred and I trade smirks. I stand up and take Josh by the hand. Come on, it's two o'clock in the morning and the news is starting. Let's go to bed so Freddy can get some sleep.
He follows after me, mutely; staring over his shoulder even after Freddy turns the television off.
Twentyone points.
It finally speaks.
They blew a twentyone point lead, Josh moans, flopping fullyclothed onto the bed.
Are we working tomorrow? I crawl onto the bed next to him.
I'm not going to work for a month.
Now, It pouts.
It won't be that bad, I tell him, running my hand up his tshirt. My fingernails scrape lightly against the skin of his stomach.
It'll be that bad, he whines some more, making no effort to return my advances.
The bet was the winner makes the final decision. You just need to persuade me why your opinion is the one we should go with, I purr seductively.
Josh lifts his head up and raises an eyebrow at me, obviously considering his options.
How much of you do I need to persuade? he asks, capturing my roaming hand with his own.
All of me.
All of you, hmm? He brings his other hand up to my face and traces my cheekbone.
***
Unca Joss?
I've had this dream before. This is the one where my nephew doesn't stop poking me in the ribs until I get up and watch cartoons with him.
Unca Joss!
I fell asleep an hour ago, this is not happening.
Unca Joss!!
How did he even get up on the bed? It's at least a foot above his head.
Unca Joss! Now he's trying to shake my shoulder.
I finally stick my head out from under the covers.
Mama wants you.
Go tell her I'll be right there.
Bob da Builder? He's looking at me with those huge blue eyes, begging me to watch cartoons with him.
After I talk to Mama, okay?
Tim climbs down and scampers out the door.
I crawl out of bed, grabbing boxers and a tshirt on my way to the kitchen. Pat is at the table, drinking coffee and staring at the brown liquid.
What's up? I pour myself a cup of coffee.
You're a lawyer, right?
Not according to Sam, I smile. Pat, it's only been three weeks. Are you sure you don't want to give it more time? Maybe he'll wise up and reappear.
I take in the look on her face and nod my agreement. Yeah. Okay.
Donna emerges from the bedroom, yawning. She pours herself a glass of orange juice and then surveys the two of us. I'm interrupting something.
No, you're not. Pat sighs.
What about what's his name, the lawyer your parents use? I ask, clueing Donna in on the topic.
He doesn't do divorces, she shrugs.
I think for a minute, trying to recall the name of the firm in Milwaukee my attorney hired. The only thing I can remember is the babyfaced kid they sent to close the farm deal. Here's what we'll do. I'll call my lawyer tomorrow morning and have her hunt somebody respectable down for you. How's that for a start?
***
Pat just looks miserable, but faintly nods at Josh's suggestion. I reach over and grab her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
It'll be okay, Pat. Remember the mantra: Gerry is a jackass.
She smiles enough for me to be comfortable that she's doing what she wants to do, not what she thinks she has to do.
Josh decides his presence is no longer required and he jerks his thumb towards the living room. I'm going to go watch Bob the Builder
Pat waits until Josh turns the TV on. He's a good guy, Donna. He'll do anything for you, you can tell just by the way he looks at you.
Except consider a minivan, I scoff.
How can you drink orange juice? Pat changes the subject.
Mr. Wonderful refuses to drink decaf coffee.
No, I mean the smell of it made me sick when I was pregnant. Do you know if it's a boy or a girl, yet?
I shake my head, They still can't tell. How's the job hunt?
I haven't worked in over five years, I don't have a degree It isn't going well. Dad thinks I should go back to school.
What do you want to do? I'm honestly curious. I know the year she was at UW, Pat was an education major, but I never knew if it was because she thought she should be or because she wanted to be a teacher.
Honestly? Early childhood education. We share a few more minutes of silence. I ought to get Fred out of bed, our flights leave at noon and it's almost seven.
You go shower, I'll take care of Freddy. Can you believe Mom and Daddy are letting him go to Padre?
***
Can I talk to you for a second? Donna sits next to me on the sofa.
I toss a glance at Timmy, who's sitting next to me, completely enthralled by Bob the Builder.
At least it isn't Barney.
Donna nods. Pat wants to go back to school.
Then her tuition will be taxdeductible, I smirk.
Be serious, Joshua. What if she and the kids moved into the house?
Our house? I ask, incredulously.
The one we won't live in for another four years? Donna lifts her eyebrows at me. The one nobody is living in?
I did kind of get the impression Deb wasn't keen on them moving back home, I concede.
***
Kind of? I had to talk Mom off the ceiling over the phone.
Alright, alright. They can move in and take care of the place while Pat goes back to school. Josh agrees a little too quickly, if you ask me.
he's faking the innocent look.
You already thought of it.
I didn't, he protests weakly.
What, then? You look like the Mets just won the World Series.
I was going to suggest something else, but your idea is better.
Ass kisser. I try glaring at him, but we both just end up laughing.
Come here, Josh pulls me into a tender kiss, resting one hand on my stomach. I love you.
I return his kiss, covering his hand with my own. Who you talking to there, babe?
Both of you. Did I persuade you last night?
You made a heck of a go at it, but I'm not entirely convinced.
Can I try again tonight?
***
Returning to the office Monday morning, I discover it's as bad as I thought it would be.
They went to a lot of work on this one.
Seriously.
My office is wallpapered in minivan ads from magazines and in the middle of my desk is a blue, plastic, Barbie Volkswagen microbus along with Barbie, Ken and a baby Barbie.
I have to admit I am getting a little tired of CJ's jokes.
Or maybe I'm just tired of being treated like a fool by my friends.
***
Oh, it's bad, I snicker from our adjoining door.
This reeks of CJ.
Josh just sighs and grabs the files he needs for his meetings today before heading back out the door without a word.
Not his usual reaction to the jokes he's subjected to. He usually just laughs it off.
They may have gone a little too far this time.
I head back to my own desk and call to setup an appointment with a car dealer in Maryland that Bonnie recommended. Josh and I both have a couple of hours free tomorrow afternoon.
We need to get this taken care of.
Any more persuading' and I won't be able to function. Josh had me up until almost four o'clock this morning.
***
Everybody gets their digs in at Staff. CJ and the President have a particularly joyful field day with the whole thing.
I smile and try not to let it get to me. I have a daylong series of meetings at CIA Headquarters in Langley today. All I need to do is make it through Staff.
Once in the car, I pull out my cell and call my attorney. Pat was thrilled with Donna's idea and I agree it makes sense for someone to live in the house while we're in D.C. We just need to get Pat divorced before the jackass shows up again.
Helen promises to find someone in Madison and gives me the number of the firm in Milwaukee that handled the real estate deal.
Chris Proles, please. I manage to remember the kid's name.
I'm sorry, he's in a meeting. Can I take a message?
I leave my name and cell number as I park the Mustang in the visitor's lot at Langley.
***
You busy? CJ sticks her head in my office.
I'm just doing preliminary research for the Family and Medical Leave Act. It's up after the summer recess. I gesture for her to come in and relieve my monotony.
Anything to distract me from the tap dance the bear is doing in revolt of the tuna salad sandwich I had at lunch.
What's up with Josh?
I'm not giving this one away for free. CJ pissed him off, CJ can figure out what she did. And moreover, what Josh will do in retaliation.
He was just really quiet during Staff today.
He's busy. The reorganization recommendations are due next week and he's trying to help me transition. We've got a lot going on outside the West Wing, too.
You don't think he's upset?
I don't know, CJ. I know he's not upset with me. Other than that, we haven't had a chance to talk today.
We're still on for tonight, right?
Josh and I offered to have everyone over to watch tonight's game at our apartment, rather than go out to a bar.
Yeah, sure, I answer distractedly, reaching for my ringing phone.
Donna Moss. I'm using my maiden name at work to keep the confusion, and gossip, to a minimum. I wave at CJ as she heads out.
Hey, yourself, Grumpypants. What's up?
I hired a guy.
Praise be. Who? This is a minor bombshell, considering he hasn't interviewed anyone today.
A guy from Milwaukee. He starts April 15th. Let Debbie know her nightmare is almost over.
Josh, what's wrong? He's starting to worry me. Everything seemed fine this morning. I'm the only member of our family allowed to go through mood swings like this.
It's nothing, Donna. I promise. I'm just going to be here longer than I thought.
How late?
Don't wait for me and I'll probably miss the party late. I'm sorry, Donna, he apologizes contritely. This has ended up being more than I anticipated. Billings wants me to go to New York tomorrow and meet with the city's emergency management team. I need to go talk to those guys, anyway.
We have an unspoken agreement: no being pissy with each other if work pops up suddenly. If Josh needs to go to New York tomorrow, there's nothing he or I can do about it.
That doesn't stop the sigh from escaping my lips. I'll have Debbie clear your schedule.
Josh picks up on my disappointment.
I made an appointment with a car dealer tomorrow afternoon, is all.
So? Keep it. I'll sign over the title of the Audi tonight when I get home. You've got the final authority anyway. Despite his best attempt to keep his voice neutral, a hint of bitterness seeps in.
I agree. But we're talking about whatever's bothering you tonight when you get home.
I love you, he whispers.
I know. I love you, too, babe.
***
I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be at home, throwing a party. President Bartlet's voice invades my solitude.
I'm trying to get my notes organized for tomorrow's trip. I think these guys are going to tell me what I really need to hear and I want to be able to ask the right questions. Tearing my eyes from the diagrams on my laptop, I squint while they adjust to the darkness of the room.
The only light is coming from my laptop and the muted television off to my left. The overheads are purposely off so I don't have to stare at the new wallpaper in my office.
They've already run One Shining Moment.' It's probably safe to go home.
Yes, sir. I don't protest his observation that I am here because I'm avoiding my friends. I just gather my things and head to the parking lot, smirking over my revenge.
Donna's in bed asleep when I get home. I quickly sign the car title she left on the kitchen table for me, undress and crawl into bed.
Attempting to sleep is futile. Instead, I curl around and rest my head beside Donna's growing belly.
Hey, little bear. How was your day? Yeah? Daddy had a pretty good one. He learned some pretty cool stuff and made some new friends. Who were very willing to help him get back at your Aunt CJ for thinking she's funny.
Joshua, what did you do?
***
Daddy will be right back, Josh pats my stomach. He needs to calm your eavesdropping Mommy down.
He pops his head out from under the comforter and gives me a quick kiss. I thought you were asleep.
You weren't upset, you were plotting, I accuse. It was a ruse to throw CJ off your scent.
Josh tries the innocent act, lightly running his fingers along my jaw.
Yes, you!
Did you know the CIA makes microscopic little devices they can program to do anything from beep to explode?
I don't want to know, do I?
No, you really don't. My husband grins his devious grin and starts kissing my neck.
***
Are you hearing a beeping noise? Sam and CJ appear together.
The clock on my computer indicates it is only 8:30 a.m.
Whatever Josh worked up as revenge has both of them twitching already. What's up?
Sam and I can both hear this really faint beeping, but nobody else can. CJ explains.
Except I can't hear it all the time. Just when I'm trying to write. It's annoying, Sam is fiddling with his favorite pencil.
You can hear it, too? Charlie materializes next.
CJ looks a little less tense. Can you?
No, but the President can.
Okay, I can't hear it, but I can hear this conversation, which I'd like to not hear. Can you all go, I don't know, to Toby's office maybe? I give them the same you're bothering me with stupid stuff' look I usually reserve for Josh.
It works better on them.
By the time I leave for my appointment with the car dealer Sam, CJ, Toby and the President are all suffering from this mysterious beeping and occasional buzzing noise and Ron Butterfield has agents sweeping the White House with counterintelligence equipment.
I refrain from suggesting they call the CIA.
***
Three hours and four testdrives later, I succumb to the allure of fourwheel drive and decent ground clearance.
And heated leather seats.
Seating for seven.
Builtchild safety seats.
Cargo space to rival the largest of minivans.
Heated leather seats.
Mark, the salesman, seemed like a nice enough guy and gave me an impartial, thirdparty comparison of my top two minivan choices and 2 SUVs. I test drove my favorite from each class and bagged the minivan.
Josh and I are now the proud owners of a 2003 Chevy Trailblazer.
In metallic green with a gray interior.
With heated leather seats.
We won't take delivery for six to eight weeks because the options I picked out require a special order.
I did not cave, I keep telling myself as I walk down the hallway to the bullpen.
What's going on? I whisper to Debbie.
CJ, Sam and Charlie are in Josh's office cleaning up their handiwork under Toby's watchful glare and the supervision of the Secret Service and the First Lady.
You know about the beeping?
I can't help but start to snicker.
Ron Butterfield had to call the CIA because his guys couldn't find anything Debbie trails off when Abbey drifts over.
They're ceding the battlefield? My snickers become giggles. Leave it to Josh to recruit the First Lady to help him.
Evidently. Some guy at CIA not only knew what they were looking for, but where they were, the young assistant finishes.
They forgot a couple of things, Abbey addresses Debbie to impart some lessons I learned long ago.
My husband hired Josh because he's devious, manipulative, underhanded and doesn't fight fair. Basically, because he's a stellar political operative.
How do you forget something like that?
CJ and Sam are under the impression that when Josh and I got married, Josh got castrated, I explain.
What else did they forget? We've piqued Debbie's curiosity now.
Everyone assumes the Sisterhood is always together, but Josh has forged some sneaky, backroom alliances with individual Sisters and Debbie's learning she needs to know what they are.
Abbey gives her a tight smile. Revenge is a dish best served cold.