Josh and CJ's Dr. Seuss theme went over great with the kids from the hospital. The young patients paraded through the White House in an astonishing array of cartoon and children's characters; all of them staring at their surroundings in amazement. They started in the East Wing, where Abbey went with a historical theme, and then moved through the West Wing. Sam was a huge hit as he pursued Toby with the plastic green ham.
Josh was in his element, doling out sweets while wearing the full-body green fish suit Ellen down in Event Planning designed. He eventually tripped over himself and spent the last twenty minutes flopping around on the floor to gales of laughter from miniature Spongebob Squarepants', Harry Potters and Bob the Builders.
David did surprisingly well. I was not as optimistic as Josh and figured he'd be screaming most of the day. Our little Bear was more curious about the dressed-up older children than he was frightened and he kept trying to grab pieces of their costumes. He only started to get fussy around his normal 7:30 feeding time, which coincided with his daddy falling over. I seized the opportunity to retreat to my office and close the door to care for David's needs.
Which is why I'm no longer clad in a life-size green fish costume. Josh had to be removed from his to get him off the floor. Everyone else is in a state of half-costume, having shed portions of theirs to allow freedom of movement.
After receiving the heartfelt gratitude of the kids and their parents, most of the staff has congregated in Communications to gossip about who had the audacity to decorate the Residence in toilet paper while the Secret Service wasn't looking.
I'm perched on Ginger's desk, watching her and Bonnie playing with David out of the corner of my eye. Josh is standing next to me, exalting Ed and Larry's TP prowess.
CJ sidles up and levels Ed and Larry with a scowl that sends them scampering in another direction.
Once the three of us are alone, she speaks quickly and quietly. "A bunch of us are heading to Iota after this wraps up. Do you two want to come?"
Josh and I exchange a look. Not counting the night my parents watched him during my reunion, we've never left David with a sitter. Despite some anxiety over leaving my baby with someone else, I would like to go out and just spend some time with our friends.
Like adults.
"If you can't, it's cool. I just wanted to make sure you got invited this time." She tosses a quick glance over her shoulder at Toby and Sam. They're arguing over the disposal of the green plastic ham, oblivious to our conversation.
CJ was the one who finally admitted that Josh and I had been intentionally cut out of the party at The Hawk and Dove last month. A person, whose name she would not reveal, didn't "want to listen to anybody talk about their damn kid all night." I chose not share that information with Josh, figuring he'd go on a tirade and make things worse. But I have a pretty good idea who said it. Another reason I want to go is because I have a feeling if certain individuals open their mouths, things will come to a head tonight. And watching Josh yell at people is incredibly entertaining for me, not to mention a huge turn on.
"Let me see if I can get Zoey to watch David for us. I'll be back," Josh says, correcting divining my wishes.
***
The first non-Secret Service Agent person I run into is the First Lady. She's still dressed as Martha Washington.
"Hey, Mrs. B," I greet her with a grin.
"Josh," she smiles warmly. "What brings you to the Residence?"
"I heard you redecorated and wanted to see it for myself."
Abbey grimaces at the toilet paper hanging from the paintings and portraits we're passing as we walk down the hallway. "We haven't been toilet papered since Elizabeth was in high school. Although Ellie did get picked up for it once, years ago. Jed was furious."
"I almost got arrested once for TPing my English teacher's house," I admit. "But the cop who spotted us was old and out of shape."
"So, why are you really here?" she asks once she stops laughing.
"I'm actually looking for Zoey, Ma'am."
"She and Charlie already left to go out for the night. Did you need something?" Dr. Bartlet stops at the door to the Presidential sitting room.
My face falls at her news. I really wanted to take Donna out tonight and I know she was anxious to get out with our friends for the first time in a long time.
"What?" she presses.
"There's a thing tonight and Donna and I were wondering if Zoey would be willing..." My request peters out. I'm squirming at the prospect of asking the First Lady of the United States to babysit so I can go out with my wife.
"Do you need a sitter?" Abbey asks. "Because Jed and I would be thrilled to watch David for you."
"You would?" I raise my eyebrows, shocked at her offer.
"Sure! Jed and I don't have any plans for the evening. Would you like us to keep him for the night?" she offers.
"I... I don't know, Ma'am. I'd have to ask Donna about that," I stammer.
"When you're ready to go, just bring him to the sitting room," the First Lady instructs.
"Thank you, ma'am. I really appreciate you doing this for us."
"Don't worry about it. You and Donna need to get out once in a while or you'll forget there's more to life than diapers, feeding schedules and work. And your friends will forget you're actually adults."
***
The gathering in Communications disbanded right after Josh left, but he tracks me down in our offices. I tried to get David to nurse again, but he was squalling and letting go every few minutes. Our pediatrician warned me this might happen. Apparently, the hormones pregnancy sends coursing through your body change the flavor of breast milk and while it's okay to continue breastfeeding, babies sometimes self-wean because the taste isn't what they're accustomed to. David eats just fine when he's hungry enough, like earlier this evening, but he's less inclined to suckle for comfort or when he isn't very hungry. This week is really the first time I've noticed anything wrong. Probably because I'm actually looking for it now.
During Monday's visit, Dr. Cohen suggested we start introducing him to solid foods. He sent us home with a little pamphlet about starting babies on solids. It said the best time to introduce new foods is in the morning, so Josh has been spearheading this project during father/son time while I get ready for work. In four days, our little bear has eaten four bites of banana. Not an actual banana, but one of those little jars of mushed banana baby food, because while they might call the food solid, it really isn't. It's more liquefied than anything.
Josh returns from the Residence to find me reduced to trying to force pureed bananas down David's throat. Except I'm not having much success because he keeps moving his mouth and trying to grab the little plastic coated spoon.
"It's not as easy as it looks, is it?" he says, laughing at the sight of our Bear with food smeared all over his face and hands.
I glare at him until he stops and sits down next to me on the couch.
"I couldn't find Zoey. But Mrs. Bartlet says she's more than happy to babysit. She wants to know if we'd like them to keep him all night."
"All night? I don't know..." The thought of leaving my baby with someone else for more than a couple of hours stirs butterflies in my stomach. "Maybe we can just play it by ear?"
"Sure," Josh agrees with an enigmatic smile.
It's unnerving me. "What?"
"You're so beautiful," he whispers. "There are mornings I wake up next to you and I can't believe how lucky I am. You've made me so happy, Donna. I love you so much."
"What brought this on?" Josh doesn't get maudlin in the office. He normally saves this stuff for after, you know, sex.
He reddens a bit and his voice is just this side of squeaky when he speaks. "I don't know. I just needed to say it."
"I love you, too," I tell him, leaning over and placing a chaste kiss on his lips.
***
Before I can get more than the one kiss, I spot President Bartlet in the doorway.
"Good evening, sir." I stand quickly.
"My wife told me we get to keep this little guy for a while tonight. I thought I'd save you a trip and pick him up on my way to the Residence." He steps into Donna's office and reaches for the banana-covered baby.
"Let me clean him up, sir." Donna quickly mops David's face with an ever-present rag before handing Baby Bear over to the leader of the free world. "There's a clean sleeper in the bag, sir. Along with extra diapers and a couple of bottles if he gets hungry. They just need to be warmed up."
"We'll be fine. Won't we, young man," President Bartlet smiles engagingly at David, bouncing him in his arms. "Your mommy and daddy are going to go out and have some fun tonight, so you get to stay with your Grandpa Jed and Grandma Abbey. We'll have a good time, too. Grandpa Jed has lots of stories to tell you."
"Thank you, sir. We appreciate you doing this for us," I tell him, thinking David will be the perfect captive audience for the President to bore with his stories. The kid is captivated by the sound of people's voices. "We'll come get him tonight if it's not too late."
"Don't think anything of it, son. You two have a good time tonight. Close the bar, go home, partake in adult activities." Donna blushes furiously at his words. "Don't worry about David. He'll be fine."
***
"Is he crawling yet?" Bonnie has been peppering me with questions about David for the past thirty minutes. Her sister just found out she's pregnant for the first time and Bonnie is naturally curious about early childhood development. A subject she considers me an expert in based on the exclusive evidence that I have one baby and another on the way.
"Who cares?" Toby mutters from across the table we're crowded around.
"I care, Toby," Bonnie scowls at her boss. She's never taken any of his shit and I doubt she's about to start after having a couple of stiff drinks. "Why don't you stop being so damn grouchy?"
"Here's an idea," Toby looks up from his glass of scotch. "Why don't we stop talking about kids?"
"Here's an idea," Ginger volunteers, snapping back. "Because some of us are interested."
Ginger is sitting to Bonnie's right and I get the impression she's as sick of Toby's latest round of melancholy as Josh is. And my husband is about to blow a gasket.
"Can you believe the Redskins this year?" Sam tries to change the subject to something neutral.
"No more than I can believe I'm sitting at a bar talking about whether or not Josh and Donna's kid is crawling," Toby drains his scotch and stands up.
Josh's eyes track him to the bar.
"Excuse me," he says, starting to get out of his seat.
"Leave him alone," CJ advises, placing her hand firmly on Josh's shoulder to keep him at the table.
"What the hell is his problem?" Thwarted in his attempt to take a piece directly out of Toby's ass, Josh takes his frustration out on the entire table.
"Not everybody is as gung-ho about having babies around as you are," Sam shrugs. "It's nothing personal. It's just they... well... they smell and all and you have to do everything for them."
I stifle a chuckle. "You don't like babies because you think they smell?"
"Well, they do!" Sam protests. "And honestly, Josh, sometimes so do you."
"I smell? What do I smell like?" Josh rounds on Sam, forgetting his annoyance with Toby.
Sam squirms. "Rotten bananas."
Josh squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, trying to grasp what Sam's telling him. He turns to CJ questioningly.
"I'm sorry, mi amor, but Sam's got a point. The past couple of days, you've been kind of... Stinky," CJ pats his shoulder and laughs. "Maybe you ought to change the kid's diaper more."
Toby picks that moment to return with his drink. "Can we not talk about the kid for five minutes? That's all I'm asking. Five minutes! Five minutes without hearing a word about whether the kid has rolled over or sits up or eats or burps! And maybe five good minutes without hearing anything about water retention or hormones or swelling or backaches or anything related to giving birth!"
***
The color drains from Donna's face. With her hand over her mouth, she bolts away from the table toward the door of the club. As a group, our heads swivel from Donna to Josh.
"First of all, the kid's name is David. Secondly, can you not be an asshole for five minutes?" Josh snarls venomously. Without another word, he grabs their stuff and heads after Donna.
Sam looks over at me. We know it's better if Josh rants and raves at you - it means he'll probably forgive you for whatever transgression he feels you've committed. When he does what he just did, leave without disemboweling you, is when there's real trouble.
The problem is Sam and I know what's eating at Toby. I think Josh and Donna would both be sympathetic to the situation, but it's Toby's issue to discuss and he doesn't want to talk to them about it. Every time we bring it up, he mutters something about not needing input from the Cleaver Family.
Bonnie and Ginger and Ed and Larry make their exits as quickly as possible. This left Sam and I with an increasingly morose Toby Ziegler, who tosses back scotch for another three hours until the club closes at 2 a.m. Sam and I tactically agree that Sam will take Toby home to sleep it off , and I'll run by the Lyman's to check on Josh and Donna.
Josh answers the door when I knock. He's wearing a pair of Scooby-Doo boxers with a visibly upset David on his shoulder. The baby is crying and rubbing the side of his head against Josh's bare chest. The screaming reminds me of precisely why I don't want kids.
"What's wrong?" I ask worriedly, stepping in and closing the door.
"I'm not sure. He was fussy when we picked him up and then Donna couldn't get him to nurse when we got home and now he won't stop crying," Josh rambles, pacing around the living room. His hair is sticking up every direction and his exhaustion and frazzled nerves are clear to see. Ward Cleaver never looked like this.
"Is Donna asleep?" I don't see her, but can't fathom anyone sleeping through what I'm hearing.
"Yeah. She was up with him last night for a while. It's my turn," Josh continues to pace, jostling David up and down in an attempt to soothe his sobbing.
I stare at him in disbelief. "She can sleep through this?"
"When you're this tired, you can sleep through anything," he shrugs, his back muscles ripple with the motion and I suddenly understand Donna's incessant need to procreate with this man. "What did you need?"
"I just came by to see if you guys were okay," I hastily explain my presence, scrambling to take my mind off Josh's heretofore hidden physique and my unsettling response to it. "You know, after Toby..."
"Yeah," Josh interrupts, turning to face me. "Look, I'd rather not discuss Toby right now. I can only handle one high maintenance individual at a time and to be honest, my son is a little more important to me than Toby."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" I offer, flinching at the sarcasm in his words. Sarcasm is Josh's first step in emotionally disengaging from someone. I can't help but wonder if Toby has done irreparable harm to their friendship.
***
I shake my head, still unsure of the purpose behind CJ's visit. I'm not very high on people right now and I wasn't kidding when I said I couldn't handle more than one crisis at a time right now.
"What time is Staff?" I ask in an attempt to hurry her along.
"It's at 10, in Leo's office," CJ replies, taking my hint and starting for the door.
"I'll see you then," I say, opening the door for her.
She looks crestfallen at my unwillingness to chat until David launches into a fresh round of wailing. CJ does what I've come to expect from my friends: she flees as quickly as possible, closing the door on her way out.
"Shh..." I breathe into David's curly hair, rubbing his back in time to my circuit around the living room. His continuing discomfort shoves any thought of Toby, Sam or CJ from my mind.
***
Something happened last night. I'm not sure what exactly, but something happened.
Despite Leo's current disagreement with my assessment, I know there's something amiss for several reasons.
First and foremost, I know because Abbey and I were supposed to have David Lyman all last night. However, Josh showed up to get him about 90 minutes after I picked him up from Donna's office.
Secondly, I know because I have eyes. I have never seen Toby look as hung-over as he does right now. He's propped up against the bookcase in Leo's office with Sam standing next to him, subtlety holding him steady. CJ is sitting in one of the wing chairs, her legs crossed and her eyes surveying Toby in the reflection of the window. Neither Sam nor CJ looks particularly pleased with our Communications Director.
The big tip-off to a problem is Josh's absence. He hasn't been late to a staff meeting since they brought David home from the hospital. Fatherhood has done marvels for his abilities to both tell time and manage it.
***
I'm late. Shit. I'm late. I haven't been late to a staff meeting in months, much less a Saturday morning staff meeting that doesn't start until 10 a.m.
I'm late for a valid reason. The only opening the pediatrician had this morning was 9 o'clock. Donna had a 9:15 meeting on the Hill that she couldn't reschedule, so I had to take David to the doctor.
After arriving there the requisite ten minutes early, we had to sit in the waiting room for another twenty minutes before we were taken to an exam room and discovered the reason behind David's inconsolable, continuous wailing. He has an ear infection. Once we got the problem nailed down, I had to stop and get the prescription filled and then race to the White House. By the time I pull into my parking spot, it's 10 o'clock.
I race through the bullpen with the intention of dropping David off with Donna and skating into staff only a couple of minutes late.
Except Donna's not in her office, nor is there any evidence she's returned from her meeting.
Shit.
After last night's altercation, there is no way I can take David to Staff, even if he has finally conked out. Not with Toby there.
What am I going to do? Think...
Got it.
I head for Leo's office via Communications, hoping Bonnie or Ginger can watch David for me. They were clamoring to hold him yesterday; maybe they'll be willing to keep an eye on him for twenty minutes.
Communications is deserted.
Shit.
The only thing I can do is skip the Staff meeting. Leo should understand if I blame it on David's ear infection. I just can't handle dealing with Toby on no sleep. Maybe Charlie can slip Leo a note for me.
Decision made, I head toward the Oval Office and Charlie's desk.
"Can you do me a favor?" I ask, setting David's carrier on the floor.
"I'm not good with babies, Josh. Seriously. Babies see me and cry," Charlie says without looking up from the papers he's going through.
"No, I know." And I do because Charlie and I have spoken about his aversion to babysitting. He doesn't mind being around them per se, just being in charge of them, and I can respect his honesty. "I need to you take a note to Leo."
He finally looks up. "You look like hell."
"Thanks," I reply, feigning insult. I'm sure he's likely understating my appearance.
"What does it need to say?"
"That Donna isn't back from her meeting. I'm in my office and I'll talk to him about it after the staff meeting," I rattle off.
"Sure." Charlie looks a bit confused, but jots down my message and cuts through the Oval Office to deliver it.
I pick David up and head back to my office.
***
A quick check of Donna's office reveals she still isn't back from her meeting and both doors to Josh's are closed. I open the one leading from the bullpen and slip inside, closing the door behind me.
Josh is sitting in his chair facing the South Lawn, his feet propped up on the windowsill. "What's going on?" I ask, curious about the cryptic note Charlie brought me during Staff.
When there's no reply, I pick my way through the crap littered on the floor. Rounding the desk, I discover my deputy is asleep.
"Josh?" I call his name quietly and shake his shoulder at the same time, trying to not wake the baby cuddled in his arms.
"Hmm?" Josh cracks his eyes open.
"Rough night?" I well remember the experience of staying up with Mallory and then trying to work the next day. I always looked about like Josh does right now - death warmed over.
"He wouldn't stop crying." Josh confirms the reason for his disrepair. He lightly caresses David's chubby cheek as he continues. "I took him to the doctor this morning. Turns out he has an ear infection. I guess I should have known the way he was pawing at it all night."
"Don't beat yourself up. It was the first time. You'll know what to look for next time and besides, you can't be too careful," I assure him. "Now, what's going on?"
I didn't buy into Jed's theory that something happened last night until I got a good look Sam, Toby and CJ in my office this morning. Toby is hung-over, and it means a lot of booze was consumed for that man to be feeling it the next morning. Sam is as skittish as I've seen him since he joined the campaign, which is saying something considering the period of time he spent thinking Josh was gay; and CJ is obviously annoyed at both of them.
"Nothing," Josh shrugs. His eyes are trained on the baby sleeping in his arms. His refusal to look at me says he's not telling me the whole truth. "There was nobody to watch David and I didn't want him to disrupt the staff meeting, so I skipped it. I'm sorry if I missed anything important."
The muddy picture clears in an instant.
"Do I need to remind you of the agreement we have?" I ask, keeping my voice even.
"I know, I just... He's sick and I didn't want to cause a problem." Lack of sleep has made him nearly incoherent.
"It's never a problem if you have to bring him to a staff meeting. In fact, I think you should bring him in once a month. From here on out, bring him in on the first of the month. We'll put it on the agenda. If anybody has a problem with it, they can take it up with me."
I glance back over my shoulder at Jed, who somehow snuck unnoticed into the room. "I'm going to get you a bell, Mr. President."
"With due respect, sir, I'd rather not." Josh gets to his feet with care, but disturbs David enough to wake him.
The little boy draws his legs up to his chest and bats at his right ear, whimpering pitifully.
"Shh..." Josh shifts his attention to his son, rubbing his back and rocking from side to side.
I look over at Jed and he nods. I turn back to Josh, who has his head tucked to David's, whispering to him softly. "Take him home, son. You aren't going to get anything done here. I'll make sure Donna heads out as soon as she gets back." ***
Josh and David are both sound asleep when I get home around noon. I used Leo's page as an excuse to end the meeting I was in. I could honestly care less about media ownership caps or the FCC's recent rollback of them, but apparently this is a huge thing on the Hill and we need to pick a side.
Today's meeting with the 'keep the rollback' crowd was nothing short of a mind-numbing excursion into the belly of corporate greed and I haven't even heard from the other side yet.
That's next week.
I pad quietly across the hardwood floor and perch on the edge of the bed. Josh is curled on his side, wrapped protectively around David. I lean over and press a kiss to my husband's cheek.
"Donna?" he murmurs without opening his eyes.
"I didn't mean to wake you." I brush the unruly hair off his forehead. "How's David?"
"Ear infection," Josh mumbles. He blinks his eyes open and rolls onto his back, landing in my lap. "Dr. Cohen thinks maybe that's why he didn't want to eat yesterday. He was running a bit of a fever, too."
"He finally went to sleep," I mention the obvious with relief.
"Thank God," Josh yawns. "They gave him some antibiotics at the doctor's office. There's drops in the bag on the kitchen counter."
"I'll go look at them. Go on back to sleep, honey," I order, knowing he needs it.
***
CJ appears at our door around four in the afternoon. This time she comes bearing Chinese take-out. Having just finished surveying the fridge and our dinner options, I'm glad to see her this time, despite the fact I'm only wearing the boxers and t-shirt I took my nap in.
Donna welcomes her and ushers her into the kitchen.
"Leo said David's sick," CJ says, accepting the beer I hand her.
"It's an ear infection," Donna explains. "Once the doctor gave him some antibiotics, he passed right out."
"Is that why you weren't at Staff this morning?" CJ looks at me over her beer bottle as I open the take-out cartons.
"I wasn't at Staff this morning because there was no one to watch David and I didn't want to subject him to Toby's assholic tendencies," I answer tersely.
"Assholic?" CJ raises her eyebrows. I hand her a plate with rice on it. "I don't think that's actually a word."
"Maybe not, but it's a pretty accurate description of the way Toby's been acting lately," Donna opines, her tone filled with bitterness.
I doubt Toby knows how much his words and behavior hurt my wife. Donna sees Toby as someone who will always tell her the truth and yet protect her at the same time. She fell asleep last night crying because she thinks he has somehow come to see her as less than she used to be and I doubt I can ever forgive Toby for that.
"I'm going to go check on David. If he's awake, he's probably hungry," she says, exiting quickly. Just thinking about what he said caused her get all teary, a predisposition I will not blame on her being pregnant.
CJ takes a chair at the kitchen table, busying herself by picking at the label on the beer bottle. "He doesn't mean it."
"Then he shouldn't say it," I say, leaning against the counter with my arms crossed over my chest. There's no doubt about what we're discussing.
"There's stuff going on you just don't understand. He's going through a tough time and..."
I snort derisively. "We're supposed to be friends. All of us. If he wants me to understand, he needs to tell me what the hell is going on. I'm not so wrapped up in my own life that I can't sympathize with someone else."
"He won't talk to you. He looks at you and sees the kind of father he wants to be, but he doesn't know how and that scares the hell out of him. He won't talk to you because he sees you as perfect and himself as a failure," she sighs, cupping her chin in her hand.
"What are you talking about?" I ask, confused by what she's talking about. "I'm not perfect. I'm barely holding onto my life by the skin of my teeth."
"Just forget it," she answers when Donna rejoins us.
***
CJ left after we ate and made chit-chat for a while. I wasn't very interested in talking to anyone and was far from a gracious hostess. Toby's deprecating words stung when he spat them at us last night and the past twenty-four hours haven't lessened the pain.
When I first walked into the Bartlet for America campaign five years ago, I chose Josh's office for two reasons. First, it would have qualified for federal disaster area funding and second, because the other office belonged to a man who appeared to be terminally depressed and that intimidated me. I thought it would be far easier to convince the person to whom the disaster zone belonged to that I could be valuable than it would Grumpy.
In my heart, I have always loved Toby for the person he is because if he'd been someone else, Josh and I would not have what we had today. I have always given him respect and accepted him for who he was, grouchiness and all. In turn, Toby has always been straightforward and honest with me, while showing me more sensitivity than he does anyone else. He treats me like I'm his little sister. Correspondingly, the only way I can describe Josh's relationship with Toby is brotherly. While they might fight and argue over any number of things, each knows the other will always be there for him.
"Is he eating?" Josh asks, interrupting my solitude. He lowers himself to the nursery floor beside the rocking chair where I'm breastfeeding David in the failing light and rests his head against my leg.
"He's about done, but he did pretty well," I answer, shifting David to my shoulder and rubbing his back. "What were you and CJ talking about earlier?"
Josh draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. "Toby."
I nod, weary of the subject and aware it won't go away.
"CJ said he's got stuff going on we wouldn't understand," Josh offers after a brief silence.
"He should try talking to us about what's going on instead of bitching at us. I bet we could understand what's bugging him if he told us," I scoff.
"That's what I told CJ," Josh sighs. "She said he thinks I'm perfect and he's a failure."
"At what?" Describing Josh as perfect is stretching reality. A lot.
"I don't know. I didn't understand what she was talking about," he shrugs, hugging his knees closer to his chest. "I don't know what's going on in Toby's life."
And therein lies the problem. We've been cut out of the loop, causing a self-fulfilling prophecy of our inability to understand what's going on with our friends.
"I don't get it. I don't get why we turned into such horrible people just because we had a baby." I feel like this is all Josh and I talk about anymore.
"We didn't." Josh breaks off the staring contest he's been holding with the dust bunnies under David's crib to look up at me. "We changed, yes. But we didn't turn into some sort of mutants. We can't make all the accommodation here. They've all got to realize we have different priorities. That isn't going to change and they can either come to terms with it like CJ has or they can continue to be assholes about it, but I'm done worrying about it."
"Mm, hmm," I pat him on the head as I get to my feet, only partial believing him. "If you say so."
His eyes track me across the room to the crib, lingering while I lay David on his back and cover him with the light blanket. When I turn around, Josh beckons me to join him on the floor.
He nuzzles my jaw with his lips and cups the other side in his hand, somehow knowing I need to feel loved and appreciated right now.
"Everything will be okay," he whispers, his words breezing lightly past my ear. "We've got each other and David and the little cub." Josh trails his hand down to my stomach, stroking it to emphasize his words.
He moves leisurely, slowly coming back up my body to run his thumb over my breast while his lips nibble at my ear. I sigh in contentment, causing Josh to chuckle, the sound gliding over my skin and rustling my hair.
"See? We have each other," he repeats.
The kisses he places down my neck are tantalizing, promising tenderness and passion. Tilting my head, I encourage him to continue.
"Lie back," Josh breathes. I do and he eases the oversized t-shirt I'm wearing over my head and skillfully undoes my bra. The Mr. Potato Head boxers I appropriated from him go next, leaving me naked on the hardwood floor of the nursery.
He's gazing down at me now, no longer kissing me, but brushing the palm of his hand over my skin, over and around my tumescent stomach then creeping down to the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.
His lips descend hungrily, his tongue slipping in to meet mine. While we devour one another, I reach down to cover his wandering hand and guide it to where I want it. Josh breaks our kiss with a deep chuckle and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Squarepants a little anxious all of a sudden?"
"Shut up and kiss me, Spongebob," I order, straining up to capture his swollen lips. He pulls away playfully, curling his fingers around mine.
"I couldn't stop laughing at those little kids today," he grins. "I kept thinking about you and this. It was starting to get hot in that damn fish costume."
He emphasizes the word 'this' by groping Squarepants. I quickly trap his hand where it is.
"I think you found something else that's hot."
"And wet," he agrees, leaning down to kiss me deeply.
***
Josh is careful to not collapse on top of me, but to one side. He shifts on the floor, getting comfortable and then pulls me to his side. I rest my face against his chest, letting my hand wander aimlessly over his body and enjoying the warmth of his on my back.
"This is nice," I whisper. The sun finished setting while we were making love and the room is lit only by the glow of streetlights, but it's filled with the sound of David's nonsensical babbling. Apparently we woke him up.
"Donna, we're lying on a cold hardwood floor, where we just had sex not five feet from our wide-awake offspring."
The hand exploring Josh's body encounters fabric where there should be none. In the afterglow of what we just did, I'm in the mood to tease him. "I can't believe you didn't even bother to take your boxers off!"
"Somebody was in a bit of a hurry," he replies in kind.
I prop myself up on one elbow, planting a kiss at the base of his throat. "We can go slower this time."
"You are such a little vixen," he laughs.
"Little isn't a word I'd use to describe me anymore," I purr, knowing Josh really does find me sexy and irresistible in my present condition.
"But you don't have any objection to vixen?" he asks, his voice faltering as I drape myself across him to reach the spot behind his ear.
"None," I breathe, taking the time to leave a well-placed hickey on his neck.
Josh relaxes and lets me play. I periodically reach down and check on Spongebob, not wanting to get myself too excited until Squarepants' little friend has had a chance to recover.
I've gotten his shirt off and am sitting astride him, massaging his chest when the phone in the other room rings.
"Don't go anywhere," I admonish him on my way to the other room.
"Lyman Residence." The way I answer the phone should give the caller a huge clue they're interrupting something.
"Donna, it's Abbey Bartlet. Jed just told me little David is sick. I just wanted to call and make sure everything's okay."
Oh God. I just snarled at the First Lady.
"Everything's fine," I lie. Everything is not fine. My husband is lying on the floor in the nursery, half aroused and horny while I'm in the living room, naked, talking to Abigail Bartlet.
"Just the same, I was wondering if you'd bring him by and let me look at him. Just to ease my own mind. I'm sure your pediatrician is a great doctor, but..."
"When would you like me to bring him in?" The clock on the VCR says it's already 8:30.
"Now would be fine," she says. "Unless you've got other plans this evening."
"No. No other plans." I cast a longing glance at Josh, who's standing in the doorway the nursery, Spongebob fully recovered and jutting out of his boxers.
"Who is it?" he mouths with a frown.
"Abbey Bartlet," I mouth back, listening to her ramble on about the importance of catching ear infections in infants before they turn into serious health problems.
"I'll see you in a few minutes, then," she finishes.
"Yes, Ma'am," I reply, dutifully and hang the phone up.
Josh moseys over and grinds his erection to my hip. "What's up?"
"She wants to see David," I explain, extracting myself from his embrace and going into our bedroom. "It shouldn't take long. We can do it again when I get back."
"She wants to see David now? He's fine. I already took him to see a doctor," Josh whines, having followed me.
"She's the First Lady, Josh. Go get David dressed while I get ready," I order.
***
Donna hasn't been gone fifteen minutes when someone knocks at the door.
I open it and come face to face with a contrite-looking Toby. I lean against the partially open door, not intending to let him into my home without good reason.
He's fidgeting, shifting his weight from one foot to the other with his head tilted, looking at the ground.
"It has been impressed upon me that I've been a bit of an asshole to you, and your family, the past week and it would be in my best interest to make amends," Toby says, making eye contact at the end of his statement.
"What, exactly, does that mean?" I got a couple hours of sleep this afternoon, but not enough to improve my mood considering my level of sexual frustration. CJ's visit and Dr. Bartlet's phone call now seem highly suspicious.
"Can I come in? So I don't have to do this in the hallway?" Exasperation beginning to build in his voice.
I stand there, blocking the door, contemplating whether or not to let Toby in.
"Josh, please. I'd like to explain," Toby says. My expression hardens at his use of the word explain, prompting him to continue. "I'd like to apologize."
Pursing my lips, I let him in against my better judgment.
"Have a seat," I gesture toward the sofa. After closing the door, I sit down in the armchair across from the sofa.
"Leo said David was sick?" Toby says, clearly fishing for an in.
I stare at him for a long time, biting my lower lip in an attempt to not say the first thing that popped into my head. I settle for the second thing. "I have a hard time believing you want to discuss anything related to my son, Toby. Cut the shit. Why are you here?"
He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it again, wordlessly.
"I..." he chuckles uncomfortably and fidgets some more before continuing with remarks I can tell are heavily rehearsed. "I was unconscionably rude last night. Neither you nor Donna deserved to be spoken to that way and for that I apologize."
He erases any doubt he's here of his own free will. The exactness of his apology tells me he was ordered here. By the President, I'd imagine, considering Abbey's involvement.
Toby sits on my sofa with his elbows on his knees, contemplating his fingernails and saying nothing.
"Is there anything else?" I ask, coldly, after a few minutes of silence.
"I know you won't believe this, but Andi and I were trying to have kids up until we got divorced," he says without looking up. "We couldn't conceive naturally, so we were trying in vitro."
I'm biting my lip again for a different reason. The ease with which Donna and I were able to have children must have rankled him. "I didn't know, Toby."
He meets my eyes. "You didn't know because I didn't want you to know. In the divorce decree, Andi got custody of the... well... my..."
"Contributions to the cause?" I supply.
"Yeah," he smiles bitterly. "She called me last week to tell me she was thinking about trying again before it was too late, but I shouldn't worry, she doesn't expect me to pay support or be a part of the kid's life or anything like that."
"Ah." It's the only thing my brain will come up with on such short notice.
We continue to sit there, occasionally casting small glances at each other, but neither of us speaks. There's really not much to say. I understand what Toby wants me to. This is the way we are. If it were Sam, we'd discuss it further, analyzing every detail and possibility. It's Toby, however, and not much more will be said until Toby has a grasp on what's about to happen to him. In three or four months.
"When Donna told you she was pregnant, what went through your head?"
Or I could be wrong and we'll talk about it some more now.
"I already suspected she was before she told me, so it wasn't a huge shock. We talked about having kids from the beginning and I knew she'd gone off the pill. The technical parts of it weren't what got me. What got me was the uncertainty and lack of control I had over the situation. I laid awake at night wondering if I could be as good a father to my child as my dad was to me. I still do," I tell Toby candidly, leaning forward and mimicking his posture. "I wonder how in the hell I'm going to teach David everything he needs to know and protect him at the same time. I'm terrified of having two babies, two totally helpless lives dependent on me."
"I'm afraid I'll turn out like my father," Toby admits.
I raise my eyebrows at him and smirk, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "I think it's a little late for that. You're already a politician."
He groans and sighs at the same time. "I'm not like you, Josh. The sight of babies does not turn me into a mushy ball of emotional goo."
His response makes me chuckle. "I hate to break this to you, my friend, but the only baby who turns me into emotional goo is mine. It's an incredible thing to have a child, but the way it makes you feel inside... I can't explain it. You have to experience it to understand. You look down at your child in your arms and... you just want everyone to feel the way you do about him. David's my son, Toby. My son. My legacy to the future and all I want is for him to be a better man than I am. That's all any father wants for his son. That's the measure of a good father: is my son a better man than I am?"
It's a long heartbeat before Toby averts his eyes. "The bar's pretty low on that, I guess. I'd have a decent shot at succeeding."
"If you can live through the first six months of no sleep and exposure to a previously unknown variety of bodily fluids." I can't help but laugh at the expression of absolute horror on his face.
It fades after a few minutes and Toby returns to looking chagrined. "I'm sorry, Josh. I should have talked to you earlier. CJ and Sam have been telling me to for a couple of weeks, but I didn't think you'd understand."
"Donna's pretty pissed at you," I side-step his apology, reserving my acceptance until he extends one to Donna as well.
Toby sighs deeply. "I guess I probably hurt her feelings, didn't I?"
"Probably?" I raise my eyebrows at her. "Toby, I swear to God, if my wife ever cries herself to sleep because of you again, you're a dead man."
He closes his eyes and nods, looking more miserable than any person I've ever seen.
"I'll talk to her," I say, taking some pity on him. "But you still need to, you know, apologize to her yourself."
"I might stop by tomorrow. Maybe..." he squirms a bit before continuing. "Maybe we can all get together and watch football tomorrow."
"I'll talk to Donna about it and let you know in the morning," I hedge, not wanting to commit to anything without talking to Donna first.
"That's fair, I guess," Toby agrees, getting to his feet.
I let him out and watch him trudge down the stairs. I appreciate how much it cost him to come here tonight and apologize. I just don't know if Donna will be as understanding.
Josh was in his element, doling out sweets while wearing the full-body green fish suit Ellen down in Event Planning designed. He eventually tripped over himself and spent the last twenty minutes flopping around on the floor to gales of laughter from miniature Spongebob Squarepants', Harry Potters and Bob the Builders.
David did surprisingly well. I was not as optimistic as Josh and figured he'd be screaming most of the day. Our little Bear was more curious about the dressed-up older children than he was frightened and he kept trying to grab pieces of their costumes. He only started to get fussy around his normal 7:30 feeding time, which coincided with his daddy falling over. I seized the opportunity to retreat to my office and close the door to care for David's needs.
Which is why I'm no longer clad in a life-size green fish costume. Josh had to be removed from his to get him off the floor. Everyone else is in a state of half-costume, having shed portions of theirs to allow freedom of movement.
After receiving the heartfelt gratitude of the kids and their parents, most of the staff has congregated in Communications to gossip about who had the audacity to decorate the Residence in toilet paper while the Secret Service wasn't looking.
I'm perched on Ginger's desk, watching her and Bonnie playing with David out of the corner of my eye. Josh is standing next to me, exalting Ed and Larry's TP prowess.
CJ sidles up and levels Ed and Larry with a scowl that sends them scampering in another direction.
Once the three of us are alone, she speaks quickly and quietly. "A bunch of us are heading to Iota after this wraps up. Do you two want to come?"
Josh and I exchange a look. Not counting the night my parents watched him during my reunion, we've never left David with a sitter. Despite some anxiety over leaving my baby with someone else, I would like to go out and just spend some time with our friends.
Like adults.
"If you can't, it's cool. I just wanted to make sure you got invited this time." She tosses a quick glance over her shoulder at Toby and Sam. They're arguing over the disposal of the green plastic ham, oblivious to our conversation.
CJ was the one who finally admitted that Josh and I had been intentionally cut out of the party at The Hawk and Dove last month. A person, whose name she would not reveal, didn't "want to listen to anybody talk about their damn kid all night." I chose not share that information with Josh, figuring he'd go on a tirade and make things worse. But I have a pretty good idea who said it. Another reason I want to go is because I have a feeling if certain individuals open their mouths, things will come to a head tonight. And watching Josh yell at people is incredibly entertaining for me, not to mention a huge turn on.
"Let me see if I can get Zoey to watch David for us. I'll be back," Josh says, correcting divining my wishes.
***
The first non-Secret Service Agent person I run into is the First Lady. She's still dressed as Martha Washington.
"Hey, Mrs. B," I greet her with a grin.
"Josh," she smiles warmly. "What brings you to the Residence?"
"I heard you redecorated and wanted to see it for myself."
Abbey grimaces at the toilet paper hanging from the paintings and portraits we're passing as we walk down the hallway. "We haven't been toilet papered since Elizabeth was in high school. Although Ellie did get picked up for it once, years ago. Jed was furious."
"I almost got arrested once for TPing my English teacher's house," I admit. "But the cop who spotted us was old and out of shape."
"So, why are you really here?" she asks once she stops laughing.
"I'm actually looking for Zoey, Ma'am."
"She and Charlie already left to go out for the night. Did you need something?" Dr. Bartlet stops at the door to the Presidential sitting room.
My face falls at her news. I really wanted to take Donna out tonight and I know she was anxious to get out with our friends for the first time in a long time.
"What?" she presses.
"There's a thing tonight and Donna and I were wondering if Zoey would be willing..." My request peters out. I'm squirming at the prospect of asking the First Lady of the United States to babysit so I can go out with my wife.
"Do you need a sitter?" Abbey asks. "Because Jed and I would be thrilled to watch David for you."
"You would?" I raise my eyebrows, shocked at her offer.
"Sure! Jed and I don't have any plans for the evening. Would you like us to keep him for the night?" she offers.
"I... I don't know, Ma'am. I'd have to ask Donna about that," I stammer.
"When you're ready to go, just bring him to the sitting room," the First Lady instructs.
"Thank you, ma'am. I really appreciate you doing this for us."
"Don't worry about it. You and Donna need to get out once in a while or you'll forget there's more to life than diapers, feeding schedules and work. And your friends will forget you're actually adults."
***
The gathering in Communications disbanded right after Josh left, but he tracks me down in our offices. I tried to get David to nurse again, but he was squalling and letting go every few minutes. Our pediatrician warned me this might happen. Apparently, the hormones pregnancy sends coursing through your body change the flavor of breast milk and while it's okay to continue breastfeeding, babies sometimes self-wean because the taste isn't what they're accustomed to. David eats just fine when he's hungry enough, like earlier this evening, but he's less inclined to suckle for comfort or when he isn't very hungry. This week is really the first time I've noticed anything wrong. Probably because I'm actually looking for it now.
During Monday's visit, Dr. Cohen suggested we start introducing him to solid foods. He sent us home with a little pamphlet about starting babies on solids. It said the best time to introduce new foods is in the morning, so Josh has been spearheading this project during father/son time while I get ready for work. In four days, our little bear has eaten four bites of banana. Not an actual banana, but one of those little jars of mushed banana baby food, because while they might call the food solid, it really isn't. It's more liquefied than anything.
Josh returns from the Residence to find me reduced to trying to force pureed bananas down David's throat. Except I'm not having much success because he keeps moving his mouth and trying to grab the little plastic coated spoon.
"It's not as easy as it looks, is it?" he says, laughing at the sight of our Bear with food smeared all over his face and hands.
I glare at him until he stops and sits down next to me on the couch.
"I couldn't find Zoey. But Mrs. Bartlet says she's more than happy to babysit. She wants to know if we'd like them to keep him all night."
"All night? I don't know..." The thought of leaving my baby with someone else for more than a couple of hours stirs butterflies in my stomach. "Maybe we can just play it by ear?"
"Sure," Josh agrees with an enigmatic smile.
It's unnerving me. "What?"
"You're so beautiful," he whispers. "There are mornings I wake up next to you and I can't believe how lucky I am. You've made me so happy, Donna. I love you so much."
"What brought this on?" Josh doesn't get maudlin in the office. He normally saves this stuff for after, you know, sex.
He reddens a bit and his voice is just this side of squeaky when he speaks. "I don't know. I just needed to say it."
"I love you, too," I tell him, leaning over and placing a chaste kiss on his lips.
***
Before I can get more than the one kiss, I spot President Bartlet in the doorway.
"Good evening, sir." I stand quickly.
"My wife told me we get to keep this little guy for a while tonight. I thought I'd save you a trip and pick him up on my way to the Residence." He steps into Donna's office and reaches for the banana-covered baby.
"Let me clean him up, sir." Donna quickly mops David's face with an ever-present rag before handing Baby Bear over to the leader of the free world. "There's a clean sleeper in the bag, sir. Along with extra diapers and a couple of bottles if he gets hungry. They just need to be warmed up."
"We'll be fine. Won't we, young man," President Bartlet smiles engagingly at David, bouncing him in his arms. "Your mommy and daddy are going to go out and have some fun tonight, so you get to stay with your Grandpa Jed and Grandma Abbey. We'll have a good time, too. Grandpa Jed has lots of stories to tell you."
"Thank you, sir. We appreciate you doing this for us," I tell him, thinking David will be the perfect captive audience for the President to bore with his stories. The kid is captivated by the sound of people's voices. "We'll come get him tonight if it's not too late."
"Don't think anything of it, son. You two have a good time tonight. Close the bar, go home, partake in adult activities." Donna blushes furiously at his words. "Don't worry about David. He'll be fine."
***
"Is he crawling yet?" Bonnie has been peppering me with questions about David for the past thirty minutes. Her sister just found out she's pregnant for the first time and Bonnie is naturally curious about early childhood development. A subject she considers me an expert in based on the exclusive evidence that I have one baby and another on the way.
"Who cares?" Toby mutters from across the table we're crowded around.
"I care, Toby," Bonnie scowls at her boss. She's never taken any of his shit and I doubt she's about to start after having a couple of stiff drinks. "Why don't you stop being so damn grouchy?"
"Here's an idea," Toby looks up from his glass of scotch. "Why don't we stop talking about kids?"
"Here's an idea," Ginger volunteers, snapping back. "Because some of us are interested."
Ginger is sitting to Bonnie's right and I get the impression she's as sick of Toby's latest round of melancholy as Josh is. And my husband is about to blow a gasket.
"Can you believe the Redskins this year?" Sam tries to change the subject to something neutral.
"No more than I can believe I'm sitting at a bar talking about whether or not Josh and Donna's kid is crawling," Toby drains his scotch and stands up.
Josh's eyes track him to the bar.
"Excuse me," he says, starting to get out of his seat.
"Leave him alone," CJ advises, placing her hand firmly on Josh's shoulder to keep him at the table.
"What the hell is his problem?" Thwarted in his attempt to take a piece directly out of Toby's ass, Josh takes his frustration out on the entire table.
"Not everybody is as gung-ho about having babies around as you are," Sam shrugs. "It's nothing personal. It's just they... well... they smell and all and you have to do everything for them."
I stifle a chuckle. "You don't like babies because you think they smell?"
"Well, they do!" Sam protests. "And honestly, Josh, sometimes so do you."
"I smell? What do I smell like?" Josh rounds on Sam, forgetting his annoyance with Toby.
Sam squirms. "Rotten bananas."
Josh squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, trying to grasp what Sam's telling him. He turns to CJ questioningly.
"I'm sorry, mi amor, but Sam's got a point. The past couple of days, you've been kind of... Stinky," CJ pats his shoulder and laughs. "Maybe you ought to change the kid's diaper more."
Toby picks that moment to return with his drink. "Can we not talk about the kid for five minutes? That's all I'm asking. Five minutes! Five minutes without hearing a word about whether the kid has rolled over or sits up or eats or burps! And maybe five good minutes without hearing anything about water retention or hormones or swelling or backaches or anything related to giving birth!"
***
The color drains from Donna's face. With her hand over her mouth, she bolts away from the table toward the door of the club. As a group, our heads swivel from Donna to Josh.
"First of all, the kid's name is David. Secondly, can you not be an asshole for five minutes?" Josh snarls venomously. Without another word, he grabs their stuff and heads after Donna.
Sam looks over at me. We know it's better if Josh rants and raves at you - it means he'll probably forgive you for whatever transgression he feels you've committed. When he does what he just did, leave without disemboweling you, is when there's real trouble.
The problem is Sam and I know what's eating at Toby. I think Josh and Donna would both be sympathetic to the situation, but it's Toby's issue to discuss and he doesn't want to talk to them about it. Every time we bring it up, he mutters something about not needing input from the Cleaver Family.
Bonnie and Ginger and Ed and Larry make their exits as quickly as possible. This left Sam and I with an increasingly morose Toby Ziegler, who tosses back scotch for another three hours until the club closes at 2 a.m. Sam and I tactically agree that Sam will take Toby home to sleep it off , and I'll run by the Lyman's to check on Josh and Donna.
Josh answers the door when I knock. He's wearing a pair of Scooby-Doo boxers with a visibly upset David on his shoulder. The baby is crying and rubbing the side of his head against Josh's bare chest. The screaming reminds me of precisely why I don't want kids.
"What's wrong?" I ask worriedly, stepping in and closing the door.
"I'm not sure. He was fussy when we picked him up and then Donna couldn't get him to nurse when we got home and now he won't stop crying," Josh rambles, pacing around the living room. His hair is sticking up every direction and his exhaustion and frazzled nerves are clear to see. Ward Cleaver never looked like this.
"Is Donna asleep?" I don't see her, but can't fathom anyone sleeping through what I'm hearing.
"Yeah. She was up with him last night for a while. It's my turn," Josh continues to pace, jostling David up and down in an attempt to soothe his sobbing.
I stare at him in disbelief. "She can sleep through this?"
"When you're this tired, you can sleep through anything," he shrugs, his back muscles ripple with the motion and I suddenly understand Donna's incessant need to procreate with this man. "What did you need?"
"I just came by to see if you guys were okay," I hastily explain my presence, scrambling to take my mind off Josh's heretofore hidden physique and my unsettling response to it. "You know, after Toby..."
"Yeah," Josh interrupts, turning to face me. "Look, I'd rather not discuss Toby right now. I can only handle one high maintenance individual at a time and to be honest, my son is a little more important to me than Toby."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" I offer, flinching at the sarcasm in his words. Sarcasm is Josh's first step in emotionally disengaging from someone. I can't help but wonder if Toby has done irreparable harm to their friendship.
***
I shake my head, still unsure of the purpose behind CJ's visit. I'm not very high on people right now and I wasn't kidding when I said I couldn't handle more than one crisis at a time right now.
"What time is Staff?" I ask in an attempt to hurry her along.
"It's at 10, in Leo's office," CJ replies, taking my hint and starting for the door.
"I'll see you then," I say, opening the door for her.
She looks crestfallen at my unwillingness to chat until David launches into a fresh round of wailing. CJ does what I've come to expect from my friends: she flees as quickly as possible, closing the door on her way out.
"Shh..." I breathe into David's curly hair, rubbing his back in time to my circuit around the living room. His continuing discomfort shoves any thought of Toby, Sam or CJ from my mind.
***
Something happened last night. I'm not sure what exactly, but something happened.
Despite Leo's current disagreement with my assessment, I know there's something amiss for several reasons.
First and foremost, I know because Abbey and I were supposed to have David Lyman all last night. However, Josh showed up to get him about 90 minutes after I picked him up from Donna's office.
Secondly, I know because I have eyes. I have never seen Toby look as hung-over as he does right now. He's propped up against the bookcase in Leo's office with Sam standing next to him, subtlety holding him steady. CJ is sitting in one of the wing chairs, her legs crossed and her eyes surveying Toby in the reflection of the window. Neither Sam nor CJ looks particularly pleased with our Communications Director.
The big tip-off to a problem is Josh's absence. He hasn't been late to a staff meeting since they brought David home from the hospital. Fatherhood has done marvels for his abilities to both tell time and manage it.
***
I'm late. Shit. I'm late. I haven't been late to a staff meeting in months, much less a Saturday morning staff meeting that doesn't start until 10 a.m.
I'm late for a valid reason. The only opening the pediatrician had this morning was 9 o'clock. Donna had a 9:15 meeting on the Hill that she couldn't reschedule, so I had to take David to the doctor.
After arriving there the requisite ten minutes early, we had to sit in the waiting room for another twenty minutes before we were taken to an exam room and discovered the reason behind David's inconsolable, continuous wailing. He has an ear infection. Once we got the problem nailed down, I had to stop and get the prescription filled and then race to the White House. By the time I pull into my parking spot, it's 10 o'clock.
I race through the bullpen with the intention of dropping David off with Donna and skating into staff only a couple of minutes late.
Except Donna's not in her office, nor is there any evidence she's returned from her meeting.
Shit.
After last night's altercation, there is no way I can take David to Staff, even if he has finally conked out. Not with Toby there.
What am I going to do? Think...
Got it.
I head for Leo's office via Communications, hoping Bonnie or Ginger can watch David for me. They were clamoring to hold him yesterday; maybe they'll be willing to keep an eye on him for twenty minutes.
Communications is deserted.
Shit.
The only thing I can do is skip the Staff meeting. Leo should understand if I blame it on David's ear infection. I just can't handle dealing with Toby on no sleep. Maybe Charlie can slip Leo a note for me.
Decision made, I head toward the Oval Office and Charlie's desk.
"Can you do me a favor?" I ask, setting David's carrier on the floor.
"I'm not good with babies, Josh. Seriously. Babies see me and cry," Charlie says without looking up from the papers he's going through.
"No, I know." And I do because Charlie and I have spoken about his aversion to babysitting. He doesn't mind being around them per se, just being in charge of them, and I can respect his honesty. "I need to you take a note to Leo."
He finally looks up. "You look like hell."
"Thanks," I reply, feigning insult. I'm sure he's likely understating my appearance.
"What does it need to say?"
"That Donna isn't back from her meeting. I'm in my office and I'll talk to him about it after the staff meeting," I rattle off.
"Sure." Charlie looks a bit confused, but jots down my message and cuts through the Oval Office to deliver it.
I pick David up and head back to my office.
***
A quick check of Donna's office reveals she still isn't back from her meeting and both doors to Josh's are closed. I open the one leading from the bullpen and slip inside, closing the door behind me.
Josh is sitting in his chair facing the South Lawn, his feet propped up on the windowsill. "What's going on?" I ask, curious about the cryptic note Charlie brought me during Staff.
When there's no reply, I pick my way through the crap littered on the floor. Rounding the desk, I discover my deputy is asleep.
"Josh?" I call his name quietly and shake his shoulder at the same time, trying to not wake the baby cuddled in his arms.
"Hmm?" Josh cracks his eyes open.
"Rough night?" I well remember the experience of staying up with Mallory and then trying to work the next day. I always looked about like Josh does right now - death warmed over.
"He wouldn't stop crying." Josh confirms the reason for his disrepair. He lightly caresses David's chubby cheek as he continues. "I took him to the doctor this morning. Turns out he has an ear infection. I guess I should have known the way he was pawing at it all night."
"Don't beat yourself up. It was the first time. You'll know what to look for next time and besides, you can't be too careful," I assure him. "Now, what's going on?"
I didn't buy into Jed's theory that something happened last night until I got a good look Sam, Toby and CJ in my office this morning. Toby is hung-over, and it means a lot of booze was consumed for that man to be feeling it the next morning. Sam is as skittish as I've seen him since he joined the campaign, which is saying something considering the period of time he spent thinking Josh was gay; and CJ is obviously annoyed at both of them.
"Nothing," Josh shrugs. His eyes are trained on the baby sleeping in his arms. His refusal to look at me says he's not telling me the whole truth. "There was nobody to watch David and I didn't want him to disrupt the staff meeting, so I skipped it. I'm sorry if I missed anything important."
The muddy picture clears in an instant.
"Do I need to remind you of the agreement we have?" I ask, keeping my voice even.
"I know, I just... He's sick and I didn't want to cause a problem." Lack of sleep has made him nearly incoherent.
"It's never a problem if you have to bring him to a staff meeting. In fact, I think you should bring him in once a month. From here on out, bring him in on the first of the month. We'll put it on the agenda. If anybody has a problem with it, they can take it up with me."
I glance back over my shoulder at Jed, who somehow snuck unnoticed into the room. "I'm going to get you a bell, Mr. President."
"With due respect, sir, I'd rather not." Josh gets to his feet with care, but disturbs David enough to wake him.
The little boy draws his legs up to his chest and bats at his right ear, whimpering pitifully.
"Shh..." Josh shifts his attention to his son, rubbing his back and rocking from side to side.
I look over at Jed and he nods. I turn back to Josh, who has his head tucked to David's, whispering to him softly. "Take him home, son. You aren't going to get anything done here. I'll make sure Donna heads out as soon as she gets back." ***
Josh and David are both sound asleep when I get home around noon. I used Leo's page as an excuse to end the meeting I was in. I could honestly care less about media ownership caps or the FCC's recent rollback of them, but apparently this is a huge thing on the Hill and we need to pick a side.
Today's meeting with the 'keep the rollback' crowd was nothing short of a mind-numbing excursion into the belly of corporate greed and I haven't even heard from the other side yet.
That's next week.
I pad quietly across the hardwood floor and perch on the edge of the bed. Josh is curled on his side, wrapped protectively around David. I lean over and press a kiss to my husband's cheek.
"Donna?" he murmurs without opening his eyes.
"I didn't mean to wake you." I brush the unruly hair off his forehead. "How's David?"
"Ear infection," Josh mumbles. He blinks his eyes open and rolls onto his back, landing in my lap. "Dr. Cohen thinks maybe that's why he didn't want to eat yesterday. He was running a bit of a fever, too."
"He finally went to sleep," I mention the obvious with relief.
"Thank God," Josh yawns. "They gave him some antibiotics at the doctor's office. There's drops in the bag on the kitchen counter."
"I'll go look at them. Go on back to sleep, honey," I order, knowing he needs it.
***
CJ appears at our door around four in the afternoon. This time she comes bearing Chinese take-out. Having just finished surveying the fridge and our dinner options, I'm glad to see her this time, despite the fact I'm only wearing the boxers and t-shirt I took my nap in.
Donna welcomes her and ushers her into the kitchen.
"Leo said David's sick," CJ says, accepting the beer I hand her.
"It's an ear infection," Donna explains. "Once the doctor gave him some antibiotics, he passed right out."
"Is that why you weren't at Staff this morning?" CJ looks at me over her beer bottle as I open the take-out cartons.
"I wasn't at Staff this morning because there was no one to watch David and I didn't want to subject him to Toby's assholic tendencies," I answer tersely.
"Assholic?" CJ raises her eyebrows. I hand her a plate with rice on it. "I don't think that's actually a word."
"Maybe not, but it's a pretty accurate description of the way Toby's been acting lately," Donna opines, her tone filled with bitterness.
I doubt Toby knows how much his words and behavior hurt my wife. Donna sees Toby as someone who will always tell her the truth and yet protect her at the same time. She fell asleep last night crying because she thinks he has somehow come to see her as less than she used to be and I doubt I can ever forgive Toby for that.
"I'm going to go check on David. If he's awake, he's probably hungry," she says, exiting quickly. Just thinking about what he said caused her get all teary, a predisposition I will not blame on her being pregnant.
CJ takes a chair at the kitchen table, busying herself by picking at the label on the beer bottle. "He doesn't mean it."
"Then he shouldn't say it," I say, leaning against the counter with my arms crossed over my chest. There's no doubt about what we're discussing.
"There's stuff going on you just don't understand. He's going through a tough time and..."
I snort derisively. "We're supposed to be friends. All of us. If he wants me to understand, he needs to tell me what the hell is going on. I'm not so wrapped up in my own life that I can't sympathize with someone else."
"He won't talk to you. He looks at you and sees the kind of father he wants to be, but he doesn't know how and that scares the hell out of him. He won't talk to you because he sees you as perfect and himself as a failure," she sighs, cupping her chin in her hand.
"What are you talking about?" I ask, confused by what she's talking about. "I'm not perfect. I'm barely holding onto my life by the skin of my teeth."
"Just forget it," she answers when Donna rejoins us.
***
CJ left after we ate and made chit-chat for a while. I wasn't very interested in talking to anyone and was far from a gracious hostess. Toby's deprecating words stung when he spat them at us last night and the past twenty-four hours haven't lessened the pain.
When I first walked into the Bartlet for America campaign five years ago, I chose Josh's office for two reasons. First, it would have qualified for federal disaster area funding and second, because the other office belonged to a man who appeared to be terminally depressed and that intimidated me. I thought it would be far easier to convince the person to whom the disaster zone belonged to that I could be valuable than it would Grumpy.
In my heart, I have always loved Toby for the person he is because if he'd been someone else, Josh and I would not have what we had today. I have always given him respect and accepted him for who he was, grouchiness and all. In turn, Toby has always been straightforward and honest with me, while showing me more sensitivity than he does anyone else. He treats me like I'm his little sister. Correspondingly, the only way I can describe Josh's relationship with Toby is brotherly. While they might fight and argue over any number of things, each knows the other will always be there for him.
"Is he eating?" Josh asks, interrupting my solitude. He lowers himself to the nursery floor beside the rocking chair where I'm breastfeeding David in the failing light and rests his head against my leg.
"He's about done, but he did pretty well," I answer, shifting David to my shoulder and rubbing his back. "What were you and CJ talking about earlier?"
Josh draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. "Toby."
I nod, weary of the subject and aware it won't go away.
"CJ said he's got stuff going on we wouldn't understand," Josh offers after a brief silence.
"He should try talking to us about what's going on instead of bitching at us. I bet we could understand what's bugging him if he told us," I scoff.
"That's what I told CJ," Josh sighs. "She said he thinks I'm perfect and he's a failure."
"At what?" Describing Josh as perfect is stretching reality. A lot.
"I don't know. I didn't understand what she was talking about," he shrugs, hugging his knees closer to his chest. "I don't know what's going on in Toby's life."
And therein lies the problem. We've been cut out of the loop, causing a self-fulfilling prophecy of our inability to understand what's going on with our friends.
"I don't get it. I don't get why we turned into such horrible people just because we had a baby." I feel like this is all Josh and I talk about anymore.
"We didn't." Josh breaks off the staring contest he's been holding with the dust bunnies under David's crib to look up at me. "We changed, yes. But we didn't turn into some sort of mutants. We can't make all the accommodation here. They've all got to realize we have different priorities. That isn't going to change and they can either come to terms with it like CJ has or they can continue to be assholes about it, but I'm done worrying about it."
"Mm, hmm," I pat him on the head as I get to my feet, only partial believing him. "If you say so."
His eyes track me across the room to the crib, lingering while I lay David on his back and cover him with the light blanket. When I turn around, Josh beckons me to join him on the floor.
He nuzzles my jaw with his lips and cups the other side in his hand, somehow knowing I need to feel loved and appreciated right now.
"Everything will be okay," he whispers, his words breezing lightly past my ear. "We've got each other and David and the little cub." Josh trails his hand down to my stomach, stroking it to emphasize his words.
He moves leisurely, slowly coming back up my body to run his thumb over my breast while his lips nibble at my ear. I sigh in contentment, causing Josh to chuckle, the sound gliding over my skin and rustling my hair.
"See? We have each other," he repeats.
The kisses he places down my neck are tantalizing, promising tenderness and passion. Tilting my head, I encourage him to continue.
"Lie back," Josh breathes. I do and he eases the oversized t-shirt I'm wearing over my head and skillfully undoes my bra. The Mr. Potato Head boxers I appropriated from him go next, leaving me naked on the hardwood floor of the nursery.
He's gazing down at me now, no longer kissing me, but brushing the palm of his hand over my skin, over and around my tumescent stomach then creeping down to the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.
His lips descend hungrily, his tongue slipping in to meet mine. While we devour one another, I reach down to cover his wandering hand and guide it to where I want it. Josh breaks our kiss with a deep chuckle and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Squarepants a little anxious all of a sudden?"
"Shut up and kiss me, Spongebob," I order, straining up to capture his swollen lips. He pulls away playfully, curling his fingers around mine.
"I couldn't stop laughing at those little kids today," he grins. "I kept thinking about you and this. It was starting to get hot in that damn fish costume."
He emphasizes the word 'this' by groping Squarepants. I quickly trap his hand where it is.
"I think you found something else that's hot."
"And wet," he agrees, leaning down to kiss me deeply.
***
Josh is careful to not collapse on top of me, but to one side. He shifts on the floor, getting comfortable and then pulls me to his side. I rest my face against his chest, letting my hand wander aimlessly over his body and enjoying the warmth of his on my back.
"This is nice," I whisper. The sun finished setting while we were making love and the room is lit only by the glow of streetlights, but it's filled with the sound of David's nonsensical babbling. Apparently we woke him up.
"Donna, we're lying on a cold hardwood floor, where we just had sex not five feet from our wide-awake offspring."
The hand exploring Josh's body encounters fabric where there should be none. In the afterglow of what we just did, I'm in the mood to tease him. "I can't believe you didn't even bother to take your boxers off!"
"Somebody was in a bit of a hurry," he replies in kind.
I prop myself up on one elbow, planting a kiss at the base of his throat. "We can go slower this time."
"You are such a little vixen," he laughs.
"Little isn't a word I'd use to describe me anymore," I purr, knowing Josh really does find me sexy and irresistible in my present condition.
"But you don't have any objection to vixen?" he asks, his voice faltering as I drape myself across him to reach the spot behind his ear.
"None," I breathe, taking the time to leave a well-placed hickey on his neck.
Josh relaxes and lets me play. I periodically reach down and check on Spongebob, not wanting to get myself too excited until Squarepants' little friend has had a chance to recover.
I've gotten his shirt off and am sitting astride him, massaging his chest when the phone in the other room rings.
"Don't go anywhere," I admonish him on my way to the other room.
"Lyman Residence." The way I answer the phone should give the caller a huge clue they're interrupting something.
"Donna, it's Abbey Bartlet. Jed just told me little David is sick. I just wanted to call and make sure everything's okay."
Oh God. I just snarled at the First Lady.
"Everything's fine," I lie. Everything is not fine. My husband is lying on the floor in the nursery, half aroused and horny while I'm in the living room, naked, talking to Abigail Bartlet.
"Just the same, I was wondering if you'd bring him by and let me look at him. Just to ease my own mind. I'm sure your pediatrician is a great doctor, but..."
"When would you like me to bring him in?" The clock on the VCR says it's already 8:30.
"Now would be fine," she says. "Unless you've got other plans this evening."
"No. No other plans." I cast a longing glance at Josh, who's standing in the doorway the nursery, Spongebob fully recovered and jutting out of his boxers.
"Who is it?" he mouths with a frown.
"Abbey Bartlet," I mouth back, listening to her ramble on about the importance of catching ear infections in infants before they turn into serious health problems.
"I'll see you in a few minutes, then," she finishes.
"Yes, Ma'am," I reply, dutifully and hang the phone up.
Josh moseys over and grinds his erection to my hip. "What's up?"
"She wants to see David," I explain, extracting myself from his embrace and going into our bedroom. "It shouldn't take long. We can do it again when I get back."
"She wants to see David now? He's fine. I already took him to see a doctor," Josh whines, having followed me.
"She's the First Lady, Josh. Go get David dressed while I get ready," I order.
***
Donna hasn't been gone fifteen minutes when someone knocks at the door.
I open it and come face to face with a contrite-looking Toby. I lean against the partially open door, not intending to let him into my home without good reason.
He's fidgeting, shifting his weight from one foot to the other with his head tilted, looking at the ground.
"It has been impressed upon me that I've been a bit of an asshole to you, and your family, the past week and it would be in my best interest to make amends," Toby says, making eye contact at the end of his statement.
"What, exactly, does that mean?" I got a couple hours of sleep this afternoon, but not enough to improve my mood considering my level of sexual frustration. CJ's visit and Dr. Bartlet's phone call now seem highly suspicious.
"Can I come in? So I don't have to do this in the hallway?" Exasperation beginning to build in his voice.
I stand there, blocking the door, contemplating whether or not to let Toby in.
"Josh, please. I'd like to explain," Toby says. My expression hardens at his use of the word explain, prompting him to continue. "I'd like to apologize."
Pursing my lips, I let him in against my better judgment.
"Have a seat," I gesture toward the sofa. After closing the door, I sit down in the armchair across from the sofa.
"Leo said David was sick?" Toby says, clearly fishing for an in.
I stare at him for a long time, biting my lower lip in an attempt to not say the first thing that popped into my head. I settle for the second thing. "I have a hard time believing you want to discuss anything related to my son, Toby. Cut the shit. Why are you here?"
He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it again, wordlessly.
"I..." he chuckles uncomfortably and fidgets some more before continuing with remarks I can tell are heavily rehearsed. "I was unconscionably rude last night. Neither you nor Donna deserved to be spoken to that way and for that I apologize."
He erases any doubt he's here of his own free will. The exactness of his apology tells me he was ordered here. By the President, I'd imagine, considering Abbey's involvement.
Toby sits on my sofa with his elbows on his knees, contemplating his fingernails and saying nothing.
"Is there anything else?" I ask, coldly, after a few minutes of silence.
"I know you won't believe this, but Andi and I were trying to have kids up until we got divorced," he says without looking up. "We couldn't conceive naturally, so we were trying in vitro."
I'm biting my lip again for a different reason. The ease with which Donna and I were able to have children must have rankled him. "I didn't know, Toby."
He meets my eyes. "You didn't know because I didn't want you to know. In the divorce decree, Andi got custody of the... well... my..."
"Contributions to the cause?" I supply.
"Yeah," he smiles bitterly. "She called me last week to tell me she was thinking about trying again before it was too late, but I shouldn't worry, she doesn't expect me to pay support or be a part of the kid's life or anything like that."
"Ah." It's the only thing my brain will come up with on such short notice.
We continue to sit there, occasionally casting small glances at each other, but neither of us speaks. There's really not much to say. I understand what Toby wants me to. This is the way we are. If it were Sam, we'd discuss it further, analyzing every detail and possibility. It's Toby, however, and not much more will be said until Toby has a grasp on what's about to happen to him. In three or four months.
"When Donna told you she was pregnant, what went through your head?"
Or I could be wrong and we'll talk about it some more now.
"I already suspected she was before she told me, so it wasn't a huge shock. We talked about having kids from the beginning and I knew she'd gone off the pill. The technical parts of it weren't what got me. What got me was the uncertainty and lack of control I had over the situation. I laid awake at night wondering if I could be as good a father to my child as my dad was to me. I still do," I tell Toby candidly, leaning forward and mimicking his posture. "I wonder how in the hell I'm going to teach David everything he needs to know and protect him at the same time. I'm terrified of having two babies, two totally helpless lives dependent on me."
"I'm afraid I'll turn out like my father," Toby admits.
I raise my eyebrows at him and smirk, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "I think it's a little late for that. You're already a politician."
He groans and sighs at the same time. "I'm not like you, Josh. The sight of babies does not turn me into a mushy ball of emotional goo."
His response makes me chuckle. "I hate to break this to you, my friend, but the only baby who turns me into emotional goo is mine. It's an incredible thing to have a child, but the way it makes you feel inside... I can't explain it. You have to experience it to understand. You look down at your child in your arms and... you just want everyone to feel the way you do about him. David's my son, Toby. My son. My legacy to the future and all I want is for him to be a better man than I am. That's all any father wants for his son. That's the measure of a good father: is my son a better man than I am?"
It's a long heartbeat before Toby averts his eyes. "The bar's pretty low on that, I guess. I'd have a decent shot at succeeding."
"If you can live through the first six months of no sleep and exposure to a previously unknown variety of bodily fluids." I can't help but laugh at the expression of absolute horror on his face.
It fades after a few minutes and Toby returns to looking chagrined. "I'm sorry, Josh. I should have talked to you earlier. CJ and Sam have been telling me to for a couple of weeks, but I didn't think you'd understand."
"Donna's pretty pissed at you," I side-step his apology, reserving my acceptance until he extends one to Donna as well.
Toby sighs deeply. "I guess I probably hurt her feelings, didn't I?"
"Probably?" I raise my eyebrows at her. "Toby, I swear to God, if my wife ever cries herself to sleep because of you again, you're a dead man."
He closes his eyes and nods, looking more miserable than any person I've ever seen.
"I'll talk to her," I say, taking some pity on him. "But you still need to, you know, apologize to her yourself."
"I might stop by tomorrow. Maybe..." he squirms a bit before continuing. "Maybe we can all get together and watch football tomorrow."
"I'll talk to Donna about it and let you know in the morning," I hedge, not wanting to commit to anything without talking to Donna first.
"That's fair, I guess," Toby agrees, getting to his feet.
I let him out and watch him trudge down the stairs. I appreciate how much it cost him to come here tonight and apologize. I just don't know if Donna will be as understanding.