To say David is not happy about being dragged out into the dark, cold
November night would be the understatement of the year. There he was lying
in his crib, minding his own business, playing with his feet and ignoring
the adult antics of his parents. Then all of a sudden Daddy was getting
him dressed and Mommy was hauling him outside and strapping him into his
car seat.
I'm no happier than David. There I was, fooling around with my husband, trying to forget about the way our friends have been acting lately when the First Lady calls summoning me to the White House to check David over.
David started wailing as soon as Josh handed him to me in the doorway. He hasn't stopped, despite the car ride that would normally send him back to sleep. The Secret Service agents cringe at the noise as they pass us through.
"Somebody sounds extremely unhappy," Dr. Bartlet greets me at the door to the sitting room.
"He's just tired and cranky," I reply. "He was doing fine until we got him up."
"Come here, sweetie," she ignores what I said and reaches for David. I hand him over and set the ever-present diaper bag on the floor. Dr. Bartlet sits on the antique, floral-print settee to examine him while I stand to the side, nervously chewing my fingernails.
David calms down a little bit in her arms, no longer sobbing, but still sniffling. Dr. Bartlet looks at his left ear and then the right one. The moment she touches his sore ear, David screams bloody murder.
"That's a middle ear infection all right," Abbey says with a rueful shake of her head. She tucks David in close to her body to comfort him. "I'm sorry, little guy. I didn't mean to make it hurt. Did they give you anything?"
"Some drops and an antibiotic. Josh is all over it," I tell her.
"Good, good." She smiles at me invitingly. "Have a seat, Donna."
I thought this was a bit suspicious. This must be the part where I get some sort of Dutch Aunt talk about David interfering with Josh's work. I sit down in a wing chair across from the settee where Abbey's perched. She's still holding David, who has run out of steam and is whimpering himself to sleep. It's been a long couple of days for my little boy.
"Is everything okay?" Dr. Bartlet asks, a serious expression on her face.
"Everything is fine, ma'am." I have no real desire to discuss Toby Ziegler's opinions with the First Lady.
"You know, when Jed and I first had Elizabeth, I was overwhelmed by the outpouring of gifts and the friends who came calling and offered to watch her for us and all that," Abbey waves a hand in the air.
Oh God. It's worse than a Dutch Aunt talk - it's a pep talk. I'm about sick of people meddling in my life.
"By the time I was willing to let her out of my sight, however, all those friends had disappeared. I hadn't spoken to any of them since the week after Elizabeth was born and most of them didn't reappear until they started having their own children."
"Yes, ma'am." I school my features to look moderately interested, hoping against hope this will go quickly. Dr. Bartlet can be as long winded as her husband if she isn't careful.
She narrows her eyes and purses her lips. I don't think I was successful in appearing as though I care about what she's saying. I just want to take David home and get some rest. I've been feeling uncharacteristically run down this week. I think it's a combination of emotions and hormones.
"I won't keep you any longer. You ought to get this guy home and to bed. I'm sure he hasn't slept much in the past couple of days." Dr. Bartlet stands up and returns David to me. "If you need anything, let me know."
***
Lingering at the window, I watch through the curtain as Toby pulls away in his ancient Dodge Dart.
I sympathize with how terrified he must be at the prospect of having a kid and how frustrated at having no control over it. His ex-wife is holding all the cards. At least I went into parenthood with my eyes open, having discussed the issue with Donna. Not for the first time do I appreciate the conversation Donna insisted we have that snowy morning after we plunged ahead with our relationship.
Donna's need to lay everything out from the beginning scared the hell out of me at the time, but the roadmap we built is the foundation of our marriage because we were honest with one another from the get go. For example, I know we're likely to end up with ten kids at the rate we're going because Donna doesn't want to go back on the pill. Donna knows all of those children will be raised Jewish. We know because it's what we agreed to.
Toby doesn't have that. Toby has an ex-wife who has aspirations of being a mother and custody of his, you know, previous contributions to the cause.
Donna is never going to understand this.
***
One thing goes right today. There's a parking spot right in front of the door. I whip the SUV into it and glance up at our window out of habit. Josh is standing there, peering out the curtains. His silhouetted figure is gone when I turn around with David in my arms to trudge up the stairs.
"Is he going to live?" Josh meets me at the door and takes David from me. I shut the door and follow him to the couch.
"Oddly enough, he has an ear infection." I match his sarcasm tit for tat.
Josh props David up on his lap, helping him sit up.
"There's a conspiracy," he announces, concentrating on slowly removing his hands from the baby.
"He's going to." I start, but David topples over before I can finish. Bear isn't very stable this late at night. Especially after he's been dragged hither and yon all day.
Josh catches him mid-tumble and hoists him to his shoulder, where David promptly starts to gnaw on Daddy's t-shirt.
This is the part of my life I love the most. I can't help but be happy when I'm with my husband and my baby, just being a family. A faint flutter in my abdomen widens the smile on my face. It won't be too long before our family grows just a bit larger and a large family is exactly what I want.
"What are you thinking about?" Josh asks, wrapping his free arm around my shoulder.
I snuggle closer to him, resting my head against his chest. "You. Us. How happy our family makes me. Even though our friends are being difficult. What did you mean there's a conspiracy?"
He sighs so deeply I can hear his lungs rattle.
"Josh? What?" I pull away and sit up, the smile fading from my face. I leave one hand on his arm, maintaining a connection between us.
"Toby showed up two minutes after you left," Josh begins hesitantly.
***
I'm not real anxious to ruin Donna's mood. It's been rare enough to not have her on the verge of tears recently.
"What?" Her blue eyes flash angrily and her grip tightens around my bicep.
"Toby showed up two minutes after you left," I repeat.
"I was lured out of the house?"
Despite the rhetorical nature of her question, I gulp and nod. "As near as I can figure."
"What did he want?"
"To explain and apologize."
"Toby Ziegler hasn't apologized for a thing in his life. He's incapable of admitting he's wrong or insensitive or. wrong!" Donna spits.
"I don't deny that," I say in an attempt to placate her.
"I suppose you just let him."
"I let him have his say," I interrupt, keeping my voice as calm and steady as possible.
***
"Which was?" I ask against my better judgment. Angry doesn't even begin to cover what I'm feeling about Toby right now. If I broke out Roget's I'm sure I could come up with an appropriate word: irate, wrathful, pissed off, perturbed, vexed - all good options, yet not quite powerful enough.
"Donna, could you do me a favor first?" Josh asks, his voice rather squeaky. I look at him questioningly. "Let go of my arm?"
I do, noticing I had clenched it so hard there are marks. Josh shakes it out, careful to not disturb David, who's still gnawing away on his other shoulder.
"Sorry," I blush, running my thumb over the bruises.
"It's okay. Anyway. Toby. You remember the rumors during the transition in '98? About how he and Congresswoman Wyatt were trying to have a baby to save their marriage?"
"Yeah. I also remember CJ claiming it was a load of hooey. I remember because you mocked her for using the word hooey. I think it was Sam who said there was no way in hell it could be true because no man who was getting laid with any regularity could be that grouchy all the time." I can't help but smile at the memory. Those were good, fun days. We were all young and naïve back then. Now, we're older and wiser - theoretically speaking.
"Sam was right," Josh continues, absently rubbing David's back. "Toby wasn't getting any."
"What do you mean?" I'm confused. And irate. Which equals frustration.
Josh can do the math as well and scrambles to finish his explanation of Toby's explanation before my temper boils over. "They were. You know. Working with a fertility clinic."
"A fertility clinic?" I don't believe it.
"I don't think they ever practiced enough to get it right." Josh comments. We put a lot of stock in practicing before actually attempting to get pregnant. It worked well for us. "Anyway, Andrea called him last week and told him she was going to try again before it was too late."
"Doesn't Toby have to give his permission for that or something?" I ask, wondering how Congresswoman Wyatt was planning to pull this off.
"She got the frozen, you know, in the divorce."
"Ah."
***
It's not lost on me that Donna and I had the exact same reaction to the situation.
"So that gives him the right to be an asshole to us?"
Except Donna's a tad less understanding. Can't say I didn't call that one.
"No. It doesn't," I answer, exercising my still developing diplomatic skills. "But we can try to be a little understanding, can't we?"
"Do not take that tone of voice with me, Joshua Lyman, or you'll find yourself sleeping on the couch tonight," she snaps back. "I am not a political adversary to be handled."
"I'm not trying to handle you, so you can give up the Abbey Bartlet routine," I retort, silently cursing Toby for wrecking havoc in my marriage. "I'm going to put David to bed."
This is going to be one of those arguments and I'm not going to have it with David in the room. Even if he is just a baby, I don't want him to ever remember his parents fought in front of him.
I'm also steaming mad and need to collect myself before I say something to Donna I'll regret. She's upset with Toby and has every right to be. I shouldn't expect anything else from her.
David grabs onto his toy bear and stuffs its arm in his mouth as soon as I lay him down.
"Is that tasty?" I ask, pulling my own drool covered t-shirt off and tossing it in the laundry basket. "Daddy's going to go back and get yelled at by Mommy now. Okay, Bear?"
He just stares up at me and keeps gumming the toy bear.
***
The floorboards creak under Josh's feet as he pads back into the living room and sits next to me. I shouldn't have snapped at him. I know how he feels about Toby. I'm kind of glad he walked away for a minute. I needed to gather my thoughts.
"I'm not trying to handle you," Josh repeats, taking my hand and rubbing his thumb over it.
"I know," I sigh, concentrating on the image of his hand on mine. It's his left hand. The one I slipped a platinum ring on not so long ago. The satin finish shines dully in the softly lit room. "I'm just so angry."
"I don't blame you and I'm not trying to justify what Toby said, babe," he's almost pleading with me. "I told him he had to apologize to you on his own. I only told him I'd talk to you about the, you know, Congresswoman Wyatt trying to get pregnant thing."
Looking up from our hands, I see he's discarded his t-shirt. There are faint red marks on his shoulder from where David was chewing on him. My eyes travel downward to the scars from the shooting. I've always considered them to be faint shadows of what they once were, but I realize my perception is relative. The largest surgical one is eight inches long and two inches wide. A second one bisects it at a ninety-degree angle and is five inches long by two inches wide. They're no longer the red and purple or even white they were during his recovery. They've faded to the same color as the rest of his flesh. I see them every day and take them for granted. I shouldn't.
Since Josh woke up in the recovery room, those scars have been permanent examples of his strength of spirit and survival. They seem to speak to me tonight, reminding me that without Toby realizing something was wrong, Josh would have died in Rosslyn. He would have bled to death, alone on that cold concrete landing.
I reach out to touch them, to feel the warmth of his skin and the steady beat of his heart. Josh covers my hand with his again, pressing it to his chest.
"We owe him," Josh whispers, reducing the situation to that simple fact. "We owe him my life."
"I know, Josh, but it doesn't give him the right. He's abusing your feeling indebtedness." I rub my thumb over the scar from the bullet.
"I can't tell him that." Josh tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
"I know." I close the remaining distance between us and climb into his lap. "I'll tell him."
My anger has dissipated, leaving behind its unspent energy.
"Did that qualify as a fight?" He nuzzles his cheek against my hair.
"For what purpose?" I purr, running the palm of my hand over his muscular arms.
Josh snakes a hand under my sweater, caressing my stomach. "Make-up sex?"
"I think it can qualify as a fight for make-up sex purposes, yeah." I turn my face to his and kiss him.
***
"Have you noticed we never have sex in bed anymore?" I ask, after Donna's stretched herself over me like a blanket.
"We had sex in bed before Halloween. We had sex in bed the night before Halloween. You just think we never have sex in bed because you always fall asleep right afterward when we have sex in bed," she yawns, her fingers toying with my hair.
"I do not," I protest weakly.
"You do, too. You know how I know?" she teases. "I know because I'm the one kept up by the nocturnal activities of your cub."
"My cub?" I repeat incredulously, laughing at her long-running declaration that any misbehavior automatically makes the kid mine alone. "How come it's always my cub when it's keeping you awake at night and David is my son when he's crying or sick? When is it your cub and when is he your son?"
Donna grabs my wrists to keep me from tickling her and kisses the tip of my nose. "David is my son when people are ooing and ahhing over him and it's my cub when I don't have the overwhelming urge to pee. Like I do right now."
She promptly hops up and hustles to our bathroom. I gather up our discarded clothing, wondering how old my kids have to be before I have to stop wandering around the apartment naked.
"Toby wanted to know if the gang could come over tomorrow and watch the football game," I call from the closet where the clothes hamper is.
"They have to bring the food," Donna hollers back. "And Toby has to subject himself to getting yelled at by me."
"I told him I'd call him in the morning, but I think he'll agree to those conditions. Are you going to do index cards for your smack down?" I crawl into bed next to her, ducking my head under the covers for my nightly conversation with the cub.
"I just might," she giggles a little bit when I kiss her belly button.
"Hey, little cub," I murmur.
"I want you to know this behavior continues to disturb me," Donna yawns.
"This is perfectly normal behavior according to that book Dr. Williams sent me back in February," I inform her.
"I think I found a mid-wife, by the way. There's a woman who works with Dr. Williams."
"See, little cub, Mommy found someone to bring you into this world a little more qualified than Daddy. Don't worry, though, Daddy'll be right there for you. And your brother David can't wait to have someone to play with. You get on with your growing, okay?" I feel a faint kick for the first time in response to my admonition to keep growing.
I pull my head out from under the covers and smirk at my wife. "See, the cub listens to me. You ought to try this, Donna. It's a cool bonding experience."
"Josh, honey? I talk to the baby a lot and I get to feel every single kick," she reminds me.
***
The cub has a future in the martial arts, I decide around four o'clock in the morning when I can't take it anymore and extricate myself from Josh's arms to get out of bed.
"You didn't move nearly this much," I tell David. He was awake when I went to check on him, so I picked him up and sat in the rocking chair.
He immediately starts gumming my robe. I think he's starting to teethe, judging by the sheer volume of drool he produces these days. Five months is a little early according to one of the books I got as a shower gift and the charts in the pediatrician's office, considering David was premature. I'm not looking forward to teething - I think potty training will be better than teething. Maybe I can dump teething off on Josh in exchange for potty training? Except Josh knows how guys pee. I'm not sure I want to teach a toddler how to hold his little Spongebob and aim and all that, although I'm pretty sure toddlers all learn to pee sitting down. Maybe I should stop thinking about potty training at four o'clock in the morning when my oldest is only five months old and hasn't actually started to even teethe yet.
"Do you want to watch football with Daddy tomorrow?" I ask, rocking slowly to calm the cub and talking to keep David occupied.
David lights up when I mention Daddy, giving me the wide, dimpled grin he usually reserves only for Josh. "You love Daddy a lot, don't you? But you love Mommy, too, don't you? Because Mommy sure does love you."
He gurgles when I say Mommy. I wonder what he and Josh talk about during father-son time in the mornings. It can't be all politics. I wonder if Josh takes the time to tell him how much his Mommy loves him the way I tell him how much his Daddy does.
"Is everything okay?" Josh's low voice floats across the room. David automatically turns his head toward it, even though his eyes are closed. Josh crosses the room and sits on the floor beside the rocking chair.
"Your cub was keeping me up and I came in to check on David and he was awake, too. We were just talking about you."
Josh chuckles when I refer to the baby as his cub again.
"I asked him if he wanted to watch football with you tomorrow and he gave me dimples." I reach down and ruffle Josh's hair.
"Every man gets excited at the prospect of football, babe," Josh yawns. "You wanna come back to bed?"
"If you promise I'll be able to sleep," I agree, struggling to get out of the chair without disturbing David, who has nodded off again.
***
When I call him first thing in the morning, Toby agreed he, Sam and CJ would bring the food and beer, but he balked at having to face Donna.
"You can come over early and get it over with today or she'll hunt you down in the Communications Bullpen and call you out in front of the entire staff," I advised him.
The prospect of which is the reason he's standing at our door just before noon with his hat in one hand, so to speak, and a case of beer in his other.
"Do you ever wear clothes at home?" he asks, surveying my half-dressed appearance with raised eyebrows. All I have on is a pair of ratty sweatpants.
"It's lunchtime." I lead him back to the kitchen where David, wearing only his diaper, is propped up in his high chair with bananas smeared all over his face.
Solid foods are still not going well.
"You can put the beer in the fridge," I say, sitting back down in front of David. I dip the plastic coated spoon in the jar of baby food and try again. I succeed in getting the spoon in his mouth, but he spits the food back out.
"Bear, you're supposed to swallow it, not do that," I plead.
"Mababababababa!" he screams back, effectively telling me where to shove the damn spoon.
"Are you having any. Ah, Toby Ziegler." Donna enters the kitchen from our bedroom and her eyes narrow at the sight of Toby. "Come with me."
I give him a cheeky grin and wave as he follows Donna down the hall into the nursery.
"Mommy's going to take a piece out of Uncle Toby's ass, Bear," I tell David, shoving more bananas into his mouth. This time he gums the mushed fruit and actually swallows. "Good boy!"
***
"I, um, want to apologize for my comments on Friday night," Toby begins as soon as I close the door to the nursery.
I lean back against it, cross my arms over my chest and wait for him to continue.
"I was out of line and what I said was uncalled for and. I was unnecessarily cruel," he finishes, having recited his entire spiel to the floor.
I let the silence stretch out uncomfortably, pursing my lips and fine- tuning my verbal counter-attack while Toby squirms.
"You know, Josh will forgive you for almost anything," I say, stealing a page from my husband's new diplomatic playbook and beginning calmly.
Toby looks up at me in askance. "What?"
"He is of the opinion that if you hadn't found him at Rosslyn, he would have bled to death," I explain, shocked to see that Toby doesn't begin to comprehend Josh's sense of indebtedness.
"Oh." Toby strokes his beard, considering this tidbit of information.
"To some extent, I feel the same way. Except I have this line. Cross the line and I will no longer tolerate your bullshit. And the line, Toby? The line is way the hell back there." I gesture over my shoulder.
"Donna." he tries to interrupt.
"Josh already pled your case, Toby. It's the only reason you were allowed to step foot inside my home. Be grateful Josh took pity on you."
I can see him sucking on his lower lip as he considers what I'm saying.
"Just in case you've missed it, family means a great deal to Josh and I. We both tend to get bent out of shape when someone attacks our loved ones, especially our children. I'm going to let this slide, Toby, because I don't want to put Josh in the position of having to choose between his wife and the man who saved his life. I am going to leave you with this thought, though. Who do you think he'd pick and what would your life be like with Josh Lyman as your enemy?" I pause until he looks up and nods his understanding. "Have fun this afternoon, but I want you out of here once the game is over. If you're still here when I get back, all bets are off."
Bonnie, Margaret, Ginger and I made arrangements to spend the day shopping while Josh entertains the Senior Staff. Josh was a bit disappointed I couldn't see clear to forgive Toby completely, but he said he understood.
I give Toby one last glare and then return to the kitchen. Josh is holding David on his lap, still trying to get him to eat the damn bananas. I'm starting to think the kid just doesn't like bananas. Maybe rice cereal or something would be better.
"I'm going," I say to Josh, grabbing my purse from the coat tree by the door.
"Have a good time," he says, having followed me to the door.
"I will," I chuckle at the sight of my half-naked husband holding my mostly naked, banana-covered son. "There's a couple of bottles of breast milk in the fridge."
"I already got one out. Go. We'll be fine. We're men watching football," Josh shoos me out the door with a kiss. My heart melts when he takes David's arm and waves at me. "Have fun, Mommy!"
***
Toby is standing awkwardly in the kitchen when I return from seeing Donna out the door. The bottle I pulled out of the fridge is still cold, so I stick it in the microwave for a few seconds to warm it up.
"She chewed your ass pretty good, didn't she?" I shake my head at him. "Here, hold David for a second."
I shove my son into Toby's arms so I can test the temperature of the bottle. It's a bit too warm now, of course. I take the opportunity to head into the bedroom and get dressed.
Toby is holding David at eye level when I come back into the kitchen. David is staring back at him curiously. I watch in amusement as David reaches a little hand out and grabs Toby's nose.
"Got him all figured out there?" I ask.
"He's an infant," Toby replies handing David back to me. "What is there to figure out?"
"I wasn't talking to you," I retort.
We adjourn to the living room to watch TV and wait for Sam, CJ, Charlie and Leo to show up. David takes his bottle without fuss. I can't help but grin when he tries to hold it himself, with little success.
"I didn't mean to run Donna off," Toby says out of the blue, his eyes fixed on the Redskins pre-game show.
"Yeah, well, she's pretty pissed at you."
"She said the reason you forgave me is because of Rosslyn."
David's wide brown eyes stare up at me while I decide how to respond to Toby's comment. We've never talked about Rosslyn directly. We talked about a few things obliquely - like my suing the Klan - but we never addressed his finding me. Toby isn't normally a 'talk about your feelings' kind of guy.
I settle for being obtuse. "Not directly."
The doorbell saves me from having to discuss it any further. I get off the sofa and open the door to find the rest of the Staff. Leo is at the front of the pack, looking concerned.
"Well?"
"She let him live." I step aside and let them pour into the apartment.
"Thank God," CJ whoops, bee-lining it for the kitchen and the beer.
***
I keep stealing glances at Josh throughout the game. He's having quite the time, watching the game with his son - explaining all the details and nuances of Steve Spurrier's run and gun offense - even though the boy is only five months old. Leo is sitting next to him, chiming in with the occasional comment about the job that Bill Parcells has done in reviving the Dallas Cowboys this season. David cries whenever Leo talks about the Tuna. I'm not sure, but I think there's some kind of genetic thing there, involving Josh's irrational support of the New England Patriots and Bill Parcells' four-year tenure there.
The feeling burning inside me can only be jealousy. I doubt I'll ever sit around watching a football game with my son and my dad. And not only because my dad is a convicted felon and I haven't had any direct contact with him in years. I don't even have someone like Leo to fill my dad's role in my life. Josh, however, has Leo and the President. I wonder if he knows how lucky he really is.
He probably does. Josh's family suffered as much or more than mine did during the War and his personal losses are greater than mine, really. His father and sister are both gone. At least, I still have my siblings. My isolation, I realize, is mostly of my own doing. Something CJ has been trying to tell me for years.
"Where did Donna go this afternoon?" CJ asks when the half-time show starts, helping herself to some more of the buffalo wings Charlie brought from Hooters.
"She and the Senior Assistant Brigade went shopping. She needs some clothes for winter," Josh says.
"You let your wife go shopping with three other women?" Sam asks, proving he's drunk and will have to be driven home.
"I don't let my wife do anything," Josh scoffs, earning a glare from CJ. "Donna and I discuss things like adults and when she says she wants to go shopping on Sunday, I say have a good time, dear."
Leo laughs so hard, I think he's going to fall off the sofa.
"So," Sam leans forward and presses on with his attempt to do whatever it is he's trying to do. "You're saying you're whipped?"
I'm pretty sure CJ just snorted from attempting to not laugh. I'm actually interested to hear what Josh has to say to Sam, because I've heard the same comment made up on the Hill - mostly by single guys or guys who are on their third or fourth trophy wife.
Josh raises his eyebrows and looks around at all of us. "As the only happily married guy here, I suggest you all stop mocking and start taking notes."
"Oh wise master, pray tell us, what is the secret to happiness in marriage?" CJ doesn't give up the mocking.
"The secret to happiness in marriage, Claudia Jean, is getting your spouse." Josh moves David from his lap to his shoulder and leans back, preparing to pontificate on the subject at length.
"Getting your spouse?" Sam looks confused.
"Yeah. You need to understand them. Know how they're going to react to things, what they like, what they don't like," he pauses. "You have to understand the reasons why they are the way they are. You also have to accept you can't change who your spouse is and you shouldn't try."
Leo nods in agreement, which tells me Josh really does know what he's talking about. An important fact I file away for later.
Josh looks around at all of us, taking a sip from his beer. "It's the reason Toby lived through his altercation with Donna and got to stay for the game. She knew it was important to me."
We sit quietly for a minute. Each of us pondering what Josh said when he opens his mouth again. "Great sex all the time helps, too."
With that little pronouncement, Josh gets up and heads down the hallway. Charlie looks around at us, before following him.
"Do you think he's right?" CJ asks when they've been gone for a few minutes.
"About which part?" Leo's still laughing.
"The getting your spouse part." I wonder if that's where Andi and I went so wrong. Neither of us was really interested sharing ourselves with the other.
Leo sobers up a bit. "Yeah. Things with Jenny really went south when I stopped paying attention to what she needed. It's the hardest part, though. Remembering to not take your partner for granted."
"I don't think I could ever do it. Subvert my individuality to someone else enough to make a marriage work." CJ shakes her head.
"If you think of it like that, you're already done. If it's the right person, you aren't subverting yourself to anything. You feel freer around them if anything. They understand you and they know what makes you tick and the thoughts behind those seemingly careless comments other people take out of context," Leo picks up where Josh left off.
***
"Can I ask you something?" Charlie closes the nursery door.
"You made a seriously stinky mess here, Bear." I wrinkle my nose at the shit in David's diaper. "What's up, Charlie?"
"When did you know Donna was the one?"
"Hand me those wipes under there will you?" I point toward the canister of baby wipes under the changing table. "Why?"
"Zoey and I have been seeing each other for quite a while now." He hands over the wipes. "And she graduated from Georgetown and all this May and started on her graduate degree at GW and I was wondering."
"There's no time limit or restraint on relationships, Charlie," I tell him, mopping the crap off David's butt. "Donna and I. We knew that we were meant for each other from the minute she came back after quitting. The two weeks she was gone were the most miserable of my life. We had to wait almost four years before we were ready, though. It wasn't about love it was about maturity and being ready for the commitment and sacrifice that comes with having a family."
"Yeah," he sighs.
"What's going on?" I probe a little, fastening the pins on David's diaper to buy some time.
"She's, I don't know, infatuated, I guess, with the idea of getting married. A bunch of her friends got engaged this summer and some of the people she knew in high school are having babies. It's all she talks about." Charlie paces the length of the nursery to stare out the window.
"How do you feel about it?" I'm pretty sure I know the answer to the question.
"Scared shitless," he says, continuing to look out the window.
I pick David up before he can start to cry. "When you think about your future, does it include Zoey?"
"Yeah."
"Well, The thing about being married is everything you do has an impact on another person. I wouldn't ever dream of having a get together like this today without talking it over with Donna first. Does that make sense?"
"I think so and I don't know if I'm ready for it, yet." Charlie turns back from the window and faces me.
"You want my honest advice?" I reach for the doorknob.
"Yeah, I do. You seem to have women figured out."
I can't help but laugh at his observation. "I have one woman figured out. As for you, if you don't think you're ready, then you're not. If you want Zoey to stick around until you are ready, then you two need to sit down and have an honest discussion about it. That's what Donna and I did, right after she came back to work for the campaign. We sat down and were very up front about our mutual attraction and the potential problems it would cause. We agreed we needed to wait until we were sure this was the real thing and we could handle the fall-out from it."
"And then you waited four years?" Charlie gapes at me.
"It took about the length of the campaign to realize it was the real thing, but yeah, it took almost four years for us to both be ready to handle the consequences." I nod.
"And you think Zoey'll understand?"
I open the door a smirk. "I highly doubt she'll understand. Very few of them are wired like Donna, Charlie. You better start thinking about biting the bullet if you want to keep Zoey in your life. At the very least, you need to talk to her about the situation."
***
"Did you have a good time?" I ask, surveying Sam, who's passed out on the couch.
"Yeah, we did. You?" Josh comes out of the kitchen carrying a full trash bag.
"I spent lots of money." I give him a kiss. "Is David asleep?"
"Out like a light. I'm going to run the trash down since you're home and can watch them both," he says.
I go check on David and drop off the bags of baby things I got this afternoon. Most of them are for David as he grows, I figure the stuff he's wearing now is gender neutral enough to use for a girl. I'm finding myself hoping this baby is a girl. It means we'll have to find a house, though. We'll need three bedrooms if we have a girl.
We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, I tell myself as I pull the tags off my purchases and put them in the hamper. Josh is back by the time I'm done putting stuff away. I find him in the kitchen, starting dinner.
"Chicken okay?" he asks, giving me a kiss.
"Sure." I lean against the counter, watching.
"Charlie cornered me this afternoon," Josh offers. "Zoey's starting to drop hints about getting married."
"Hints?" I raise my eyebrows. The gossip I'm hearing is something more akin to she's putting up billboards.
"Some guys have to be whacked over the head," Josh shrugs.
"What did you tell him?" I'm curious about how he handled this.
"That he better get the lead out and figure out what he wants. Not all women are as patient and understanding as you."
I snort. "Ass kisser."
"Yep." he grins over at me.
"If the President finds out you're encouraging Charlie to propose to Zoey, he'll string you up by your toes," I inform Josh, wiping the smirk off his face.
"I'm not encouraging anybody to do anything," he protests.
"I doubt President Bartlet will see it that way," I giggle.
I'm no happier than David. There I was, fooling around with my husband, trying to forget about the way our friends have been acting lately when the First Lady calls summoning me to the White House to check David over.
David started wailing as soon as Josh handed him to me in the doorway. He hasn't stopped, despite the car ride that would normally send him back to sleep. The Secret Service agents cringe at the noise as they pass us through.
"Somebody sounds extremely unhappy," Dr. Bartlet greets me at the door to the sitting room.
"He's just tired and cranky," I reply. "He was doing fine until we got him up."
"Come here, sweetie," she ignores what I said and reaches for David. I hand him over and set the ever-present diaper bag on the floor. Dr. Bartlet sits on the antique, floral-print settee to examine him while I stand to the side, nervously chewing my fingernails.
David calms down a little bit in her arms, no longer sobbing, but still sniffling. Dr. Bartlet looks at his left ear and then the right one. The moment she touches his sore ear, David screams bloody murder.
"That's a middle ear infection all right," Abbey says with a rueful shake of her head. She tucks David in close to her body to comfort him. "I'm sorry, little guy. I didn't mean to make it hurt. Did they give you anything?"
"Some drops and an antibiotic. Josh is all over it," I tell her.
"Good, good." She smiles at me invitingly. "Have a seat, Donna."
I thought this was a bit suspicious. This must be the part where I get some sort of Dutch Aunt talk about David interfering with Josh's work. I sit down in a wing chair across from the settee where Abbey's perched. She's still holding David, who has run out of steam and is whimpering himself to sleep. It's been a long couple of days for my little boy.
"Is everything okay?" Dr. Bartlet asks, a serious expression on her face.
"Everything is fine, ma'am." I have no real desire to discuss Toby Ziegler's opinions with the First Lady.
"You know, when Jed and I first had Elizabeth, I was overwhelmed by the outpouring of gifts and the friends who came calling and offered to watch her for us and all that," Abbey waves a hand in the air.
Oh God. It's worse than a Dutch Aunt talk - it's a pep talk. I'm about sick of people meddling in my life.
"By the time I was willing to let her out of my sight, however, all those friends had disappeared. I hadn't spoken to any of them since the week after Elizabeth was born and most of them didn't reappear until they started having their own children."
"Yes, ma'am." I school my features to look moderately interested, hoping against hope this will go quickly. Dr. Bartlet can be as long winded as her husband if she isn't careful.
She narrows her eyes and purses her lips. I don't think I was successful in appearing as though I care about what she's saying. I just want to take David home and get some rest. I've been feeling uncharacteristically run down this week. I think it's a combination of emotions and hormones.
"I won't keep you any longer. You ought to get this guy home and to bed. I'm sure he hasn't slept much in the past couple of days." Dr. Bartlet stands up and returns David to me. "If you need anything, let me know."
***
Lingering at the window, I watch through the curtain as Toby pulls away in his ancient Dodge Dart.
I sympathize with how terrified he must be at the prospect of having a kid and how frustrated at having no control over it. His ex-wife is holding all the cards. At least I went into parenthood with my eyes open, having discussed the issue with Donna. Not for the first time do I appreciate the conversation Donna insisted we have that snowy morning after we plunged ahead with our relationship.
Donna's need to lay everything out from the beginning scared the hell out of me at the time, but the roadmap we built is the foundation of our marriage because we were honest with one another from the get go. For example, I know we're likely to end up with ten kids at the rate we're going because Donna doesn't want to go back on the pill. Donna knows all of those children will be raised Jewish. We know because it's what we agreed to.
Toby doesn't have that. Toby has an ex-wife who has aspirations of being a mother and custody of his, you know, previous contributions to the cause.
Donna is never going to understand this.
***
One thing goes right today. There's a parking spot right in front of the door. I whip the SUV into it and glance up at our window out of habit. Josh is standing there, peering out the curtains. His silhouetted figure is gone when I turn around with David in my arms to trudge up the stairs.
"Is he going to live?" Josh meets me at the door and takes David from me. I shut the door and follow him to the couch.
"Oddly enough, he has an ear infection." I match his sarcasm tit for tat.
Josh props David up on his lap, helping him sit up.
"There's a conspiracy," he announces, concentrating on slowly removing his hands from the baby.
"He's going to." I start, but David topples over before I can finish. Bear isn't very stable this late at night. Especially after he's been dragged hither and yon all day.
Josh catches him mid-tumble and hoists him to his shoulder, where David promptly starts to gnaw on Daddy's t-shirt.
This is the part of my life I love the most. I can't help but be happy when I'm with my husband and my baby, just being a family. A faint flutter in my abdomen widens the smile on my face. It won't be too long before our family grows just a bit larger and a large family is exactly what I want.
"What are you thinking about?" Josh asks, wrapping his free arm around my shoulder.
I snuggle closer to him, resting my head against his chest. "You. Us. How happy our family makes me. Even though our friends are being difficult. What did you mean there's a conspiracy?"
He sighs so deeply I can hear his lungs rattle.
"Josh? What?" I pull away and sit up, the smile fading from my face. I leave one hand on his arm, maintaining a connection between us.
"Toby showed up two minutes after you left," Josh begins hesitantly.
***
I'm not real anxious to ruin Donna's mood. It's been rare enough to not have her on the verge of tears recently.
"What?" Her blue eyes flash angrily and her grip tightens around my bicep.
"Toby showed up two minutes after you left," I repeat.
"I was lured out of the house?"
Despite the rhetorical nature of her question, I gulp and nod. "As near as I can figure."
"What did he want?"
"To explain and apologize."
"Toby Ziegler hasn't apologized for a thing in his life. He's incapable of admitting he's wrong or insensitive or. wrong!" Donna spits.
"I don't deny that," I say in an attempt to placate her.
"I suppose you just let him."
"I let him have his say," I interrupt, keeping my voice as calm and steady as possible.
***
"Which was?" I ask against my better judgment. Angry doesn't even begin to cover what I'm feeling about Toby right now. If I broke out Roget's I'm sure I could come up with an appropriate word: irate, wrathful, pissed off, perturbed, vexed - all good options, yet not quite powerful enough.
"Donna, could you do me a favor first?" Josh asks, his voice rather squeaky. I look at him questioningly. "Let go of my arm?"
I do, noticing I had clenched it so hard there are marks. Josh shakes it out, careful to not disturb David, who's still gnawing away on his other shoulder.
"Sorry," I blush, running my thumb over the bruises.
"It's okay. Anyway. Toby. You remember the rumors during the transition in '98? About how he and Congresswoman Wyatt were trying to have a baby to save their marriage?"
"Yeah. I also remember CJ claiming it was a load of hooey. I remember because you mocked her for using the word hooey. I think it was Sam who said there was no way in hell it could be true because no man who was getting laid with any regularity could be that grouchy all the time." I can't help but smile at the memory. Those were good, fun days. We were all young and naïve back then. Now, we're older and wiser - theoretically speaking.
"Sam was right," Josh continues, absently rubbing David's back. "Toby wasn't getting any."
"What do you mean?" I'm confused. And irate. Which equals frustration.
Josh can do the math as well and scrambles to finish his explanation of Toby's explanation before my temper boils over. "They were. You know. Working with a fertility clinic."
"A fertility clinic?" I don't believe it.
"I don't think they ever practiced enough to get it right." Josh comments. We put a lot of stock in practicing before actually attempting to get pregnant. It worked well for us. "Anyway, Andrea called him last week and told him she was going to try again before it was too late."
"Doesn't Toby have to give his permission for that or something?" I ask, wondering how Congresswoman Wyatt was planning to pull this off.
"She got the frozen, you know, in the divorce."
"Ah."
***
It's not lost on me that Donna and I had the exact same reaction to the situation.
"So that gives him the right to be an asshole to us?"
Except Donna's a tad less understanding. Can't say I didn't call that one.
"No. It doesn't," I answer, exercising my still developing diplomatic skills. "But we can try to be a little understanding, can't we?"
"Do not take that tone of voice with me, Joshua Lyman, or you'll find yourself sleeping on the couch tonight," she snaps back. "I am not a political adversary to be handled."
"I'm not trying to handle you, so you can give up the Abbey Bartlet routine," I retort, silently cursing Toby for wrecking havoc in my marriage. "I'm going to put David to bed."
This is going to be one of those arguments and I'm not going to have it with David in the room. Even if he is just a baby, I don't want him to ever remember his parents fought in front of him.
I'm also steaming mad and need to collect myself before I say something to Donna I'll regret. She's upset with Toby and has every right to be. I shouldn't expect anything else from her.
David grabs onto his toy bear and stuffs its arm in his mouth as soon as I lay him down.
"Is that tasty?" I ask, pulling my own drool covered t-shirt off and tossing it in the laundry basket. "Daddy's going to go back and get yelled at by Mommy now. Okay, Bear?"
He just stares up at me and keeps gumming the toy bear.
***
The floorboards creak under Josh's feet as he pads back into the living room and sits next to me. I shouldn't have snapped at him. I know how he feels about Toby. I'm kind of glad he walked away for a minute. I needed to gather my thoughts.
"I'm not trying to handle you," Josh repeats, taking my hand and rubbing his thumb over it.
"I know," I sigh, concentrating on the image of his hand on mine. It's his left hand. The one I slipped a platinum ring on not so long ago. The satin finish shines dully in the softly lit room. "I'm just so angry."
"I don't blame you and I'm not trying to justify what Toby said, babe," he's almost pleading with me. "I told him he had to apologize to you on his own. I only told him I'd talk to you about the, you know, Congresswoman Wyatt trying to get pregnant thing."
Looking up from our hands, I see he's discarded his t-shirt. There are faint red marks on his shoulder from where David was chewing on him. My eyes travel downward to the scars from the shooting. I've always considered them to be faint shadows of what they once were, but I realize my perception is relative. The largest surgical one is eight inches long and two inches wide. A second one bisects it at a ninety-degree angle and is five inches long by two inches wide. They're no longer the red and purple or even white they were during his recovery. They've faded to the same color as the rest of his flesh. I see them every day and take them for granted. I shouldn't.
Since Josh woke up in the recovery room, those scars have been permanent examples of his strength of spirit and survival. They seem to speak to me tonight, reminding me that without Toby realizing something was wrong, Josh would have died in Rosslyn. He would have bled to death, alone on that cold concrete landing.
I reach out to touch them, to feel the warmth of his skin and the steady beat of his heart. Josh covers my hand with his again, pressing it to his chest.
"We owe him," Josh whispers, reducing the situation to that simple fact. "We owe him my life."
"I know, Josh, but it doesn't give him the right. He's abusing your feeling indebtedness." I rub my thumb over the scar from the bullet.
"I can't tell him that." Josh tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
"I know." I close the remaining distance between us and climb into his lap. "I'll tell him."
My anger has dissipated, leaving behind its unspent energy.
"Did that qualify as a fight?" He nuzzles his cheek against my hair.
"For what purpose?" I purr, running the palm of my hand over his muscular arms.
Josh snakes a hand under my sweater, caressing my stomach. "Make-up sex?"
"I think it can qualify as a fight for make-up sex purposes, yeah." I turn my face to his and kiss him.
***
"Have you noticed we never have sex in bed anymore?" I ask, after Donna's stretched herself over me like a blanket.
"We had sex in bed before Halloween. We had sex in bed the night before Halloween. You just think we never have sex in bed because you always fall asleep right afterward when we have sex in bed," she yawns, her fingers toying with my hair.
"I do not," I protest weakly.
"You do, too. You know how I know?" she teases. "I know because I'm the one kept up by the nocturnal activities of your cub."
"My cub?" I repeat incredulously, laughing at her long-running declaration that any misbehavior automatically makes the kid mine alone. "How come it's always my cub when it's keeping you awake at night and David is my son when he's crying or sick? When is it your cub and when is he your son?"
Donna grabs my wrists to keep me from tickling her and kisses the tip of my nose. "David is my son when people are ooing and ahhing over him and it's my cub when I don't have the overwhelming urge to pee. Like I do right now."
She promptly hops up and hustles to our bathroom. I gather up our discarded clothing, wondering how old my kids have to be before I have to stop wandering around the apartment naked.
"Toby wanted to know if the gang could come over tomorrow and watch the football game," I call from the closet where the clothes hamper is.
"They have to bring the food," Donna hollers back. "And Toby has to subject himself to getting yelled at by me."
"I told him I'd call him in the morning, but I think he'll agree to those conditions. Are you going to do index cards for your smack down?" I crawl into bed next to her, ducking my head under the covers for my nightly conversation with the cub.
"I just might," she giggles a little bit when I kiss her belly button.
"Hey, little cub," I murmur.
"I want you to know this behavior continues to disturb me," Donna yawns.
"This is perfectly normal behavior according to that book Dr. Williams sent me back in February," I inform her.
"I think I found a mid-wife, by the way. There's a woman who works with Dr. Williams."
"See, little cub, Mommy found someone to bring you into this world a little more qualified than Daddy. Don't worry, though, Daddy'll be right there for you. And your brother David can't wait to have someone to play with. You get on with your growing, okay?" I feel a faint kick for the first time in response to my admonition to keep growing.
I pull my head out from under the covers and smirk at my wife. "See, the cub listens to me. You ought to try this, Donna. It's a cool bonding experience."
"Josh, honey? I talk to the baby a lot and I get to feel every single kick," she reminds me.
***
The cub has a future in the martial arts, I decide around four o'clock in the morning when I can't take it anymore and extricate myself from Josh's arms to get out of bed.
"You didn't move nearly this much," I tell David. He was awake when I went to check on him, so I picked him up and sat in the rocking chair.
He immediately starts gumming my robe. I think he's starting to teethe, judging by the sheer volume of drool he produces these days. Five months is a little early according to one of the books I got as a shower gift and the charts in the pediatrician's office, considering David was premature. I'm not looking forward to teething - I think potty training will be better than teething. Maybe I can dump teething off on Josh in exchange for potty training? Except Josh knows how guys pee. I'm not sure I want to teach a toddler how to hold his little Spongebob and aim and all that, although I'm pretty sure toddlers all learn to pee sitting down. Maybe I should stop thinking about potty training at four o'clock in the morning when my oldest is only five months old and hasn't actually started to even teethe yet.
"Do you want to watch football with Daddy tomorrow?" I ask, rocking slowly to calm the cub and talking to keep David occupied.
David lights up when I mention Daddy, giving me the wide, dimpled grin he usually reserves only for Josh. "You love Daddy a lot, don't you? But you love Mommy, too, don't you? Because Mommy sure does love you."
He gurgles when I say Mommy. I wonder what he and Josh talk about during father-son time in the mornings. It can't be all politics. I wonder if Josh takes the time to tell him how much his Mommy loves him the way I tell him how much his Daddy does.
"Is everything okay?" Josh's low voice floats across the room. David automatically turns his head toward it, even though his eyes are closed. Josh crosses the room and sits on the floor beside the rocking chair.
"Your cub was keeping me up and I came in to check on David and he was awake, too. We were just talking about you."
Josh chuckles when I refer to the baby as his cub again.
"I asked him if he wanted to watch football with you tomorrow and he gave me dimples." I reach down and ruffle Josh's hair.
"Every man gets excited at the prospect of football, babe," Josh yawns. "You wanna come back to bed?"
"If you promise I'll be able to sleep," I agree, struggling to get out of the chair without disturbing David, who has nodded off again.
***
When I call him first thing in the morning, Toby agreed he, Sam and CJ would bring the food and beer, but he balked at having to face Donna.
"You can come over early and get it over with today or she'll hunt you down in the Communications Bullpen and call you out in front of the entire staff," I advised him.
The prospect of which is the reason he's standing at our door just before noon with his hat in one hand, so to speak, and a case of beer in his other.
"Do you ever wear clothes at home?" he asks, surveying my half-dressed appearance with raised eyebrows. All I have on is a pair of ratty sweatpants.
"It's lunchtime." I lead him back to the kitchen where David, wearing only his diaper, is propped up in his high chair with bananas smeared all over his face.
Solid foods are still not going well.
"You can put the beer in the fridge," I say, sitting back down in front of David. I dip the plastic coated spoon in the jar of baby food and try again. I succeed in getting the spoon in his mouth, but he spits the food back out.
"Bear, you're supposed to swallow it, not do that," I plead.
"Mababababababa!" he screams back, effectively telling me where to shove the damn spoon.
"Are you having any. Ah, Toby Ziegler." Donna enters the kitchen from our bedroom and her eyes narrow at the sight of Toby. "Come with me."
I give him a cheeky grin and wave as he follows Donna down the hall into the nursery.
"Mommy's going to take a piece out of Uncle Toby's ass, Bear," I tell David, shoving more bananas into his mouth. This time he gums the mushed fruit and actually swallows. "Good boy!"
***
"I, um, want to apologize for my comments on Friday night," Toby begins as soon as I close the door to the nursery.
I lean back against it, cross my arms over my chest and wait for him to continue.
"I was out of line and what I said was uncalled for and. I was unnecessarily cruel," he finishes, having recited his entire spiel to the floor.
I let the silence stretch out uncomfortably, pursing my lips and fine- tuning my verbal counter-attack while Toby squirms.
"You know, Josh will forgive you for almost anything," I say, stealing a page from my husband's new diplomatic playbook and beginning calmly.
Toby looks up at me in askance. "What?"
"He is of the opinion that if you hadn't found him at Rosslyn, he would have bled to death," I explain, shocked to see that Toby doesn't begin to comprehend Josh's sense of indebtedness.
"Oh." Toby strokes his beard, considering this tidbit of information.
"To some extent, I feel the same way. Except I have this line. Cross the line and I will no longer tolerate your bullshit. And the line, Toby? The line is way the hell back there." I gesture over my shoulder.
"Donna." he tries to interrupt.
"Josh already pled your case, Toby. It's the only reason you were allowed to step foot inside my home. Be grateful Josh took pity on you."
I can see him sucking on his lower lip as he considers what I'm saying.
"Just in case you've missed it, family means a great deal to Josh and I. We both tend to get bent out of shape when someone attacks our loved ones, especially our children. I'm going to let this slide, Toby, because I don't want to put Josh in the position of having to choose between his wife and the man who saved his life. I am going to leave you with this thought, though. Who do you think he'd pick and what would your life be like with Josh Lyman as your enemy?" I pause until he looks up and nods his understanding. "Have fun this afternoon, but I want you out of here once the game is over. If you're still here when I get back, all bets are off."
Bonnie, Margaret, Ginger and I made arrangements to spend the day shopping while Josh entertains the Senior Staff. Josh was a bit disappointed I couldn't see clear to forgive Toby completely, but he said he understood.
I give Toby one last glare and then return to the kitchen. Josh is holding David on his lap, still trying to get him to eat the damn bananas. I'm starting to think the kid just doesn't like bananas. Maybe rice cereal or something would be better.
"I'm going," I say to Josh, grabbing my purse from the coat tree by the door.
"Have a good time," he says, having followed me to the door.
"I will," I chuckle at the sight of my half-naked husband holding my mostly naked, banana-covered son. "There's a couple of bottles of breast milk in the fridge."
"I already got one out. Go. We'll be fine. We're men watching football," Josh shoos me out the door with a kiss. My heart melts when he takes David's arm and waves at me. "Have fun, Mommy!"
***
Toby is standing awkwardly in the kitchen when I return from seeing Donna out the door. The bottle I pulled out of the fridge is still cold, so I stick it in the microwave for a few seconds to warm it up.
"She chewed your ass pretty good, didn't she?" I shake my head at him. "Here, hold David for a second."
I shove my son into Toby's arms so I can test the temperature of the bottle. It's a bit too warm now, of course. I take the opportunity to head into the bedroom and get dressed.
Toby is holding David at eye level when I come back into the kitchen. David is staring back at him curiously. I watch in amusement as David reaches a little hand out and grabs Toby's nose.
"Got him all figured out there?" I ask.
"He's an infant," Toby replies handing David back to me. "What is there to figure out?"
"I wasn't talking to you," I retort.
We adjourn to the living room to watch TV and wait for Sam, CJ, Charlie and Leo to show up. David takes his bottle without fuss. I can't help but grin when he tries to hold it himself, with little success.
"I didn't mean to run Donna off," Toby says out of the blue, his eyes fixed on the Redskins pre-game show.
"Yeah, well, she's pretty pissed at you."
"She said the reason you forgave me is because of Rosslyn."
David's wide brown eyes stare up at me while I decide how to respond to Toby's comment. We've never talked about Rosslyn directly. We talked about a few things obliquely - like my suing the Klan - but we never addressed his finding me. Toby isn't normally a 'talk about your feelings' kind of guy.
I settle for being obtuse. "Not directly."
The doorbell saves me from having to discuss it any further. I get off the sofa and open the door to find the rest of the Staff. Leo is at the front of the pack, looking concerned.
"Well?"
"She let him live." I step aside and let them pour into the apartment.
"Thank God," CJ whoops, bee-lining it for the kitchen and the beer.
***
I keep stealing glances at Josh throughout the game. He's having quite the time, watching the game with his son - explaining all the details and nuances of Steve Spurrier's run and gun offense - even though the boy is only five months old. Leo is sitting next to him, chiming in with the occasional comment about the job that Bill Parcells has done in reviving the Dallas Cowboys this season. David cries whenever Leo talks about the Tuna. I'm not sure, but I think there's some kind of genetic thing there, involving Josh's irrational support of the New England Patriots and Bill Parcells' four-year tenure there.
The feeling burning inside me can only be jealousy. I doubt I'll ever sit around watching a football game with my son and my dad. And not only because my dad is a convicted felon and I haven't had any direct contact with him in years. I don't even have someone like Leo to fill my dad's role in my life. Josh, however, has Leo and the President. I wonder if he knows how lucky he really is.
He probably does. Josh's family suffered as much or more than mine did during the War and his personal losses are greater than mine, really. His father and sister are both gone. At least, I still have my siblings. My isolation, I realize, is mostly of my own doing. Something CJ has been trying to tell me for years.
"Where did Donna go this afternoon?" CJ asks when the half-time show starts, helping herself to some more of the buffalo wings Charlie brought from Hooters.
"She and the Senior Assistant Brigade went shopping. She needs some clothes for winter," Josh says.
"You let your wife go shopping with three other women?" Sam asks, proving he's drunk and will have to be driven home.
"I don't let my wife do anything," Josh scoffs, earning a glare from CJ. "Donna and I discuss things like adults and when she says she wants to go shopping on Sunday, I say have a good time, dear."
Leo laughs so hard, I think he's going to fall off the sofa.
"So," Sam leans forward and presses on with his attempt to do whatever it is he's trying to do. "You're saying you're whipped?"
I'm pretty sure CJ just snorted from attempting to not laugh. I'm actually interested to hear what Josh has to say to Sam, because I've heard the same comment made up on the Hill - mostly by single guys or guys who are on their third or fourth trophy wife.
Josh raises his eyebrows and looks around at all of us. "As the only happily married guy here, I suggest you all stop mocking and start taking notes."
"Oh wise master, pray tell us, what is the secret to happiness in marriage?" CJ doesn't give up the mocking.
"The secret to happiness in marriage, Claudia Jean, is getting your spouse." Josh moves David from his lap to his shoulder and leans back, preparing to pontificate on the subject at length.
"Getting your spouse?" Sam looks confused.
"Yeah. You need to understand them. Know how they're going to react to things, what they like, what they don't like," he pauses. "You have to understand the reasons why they are the way they are. You also have to accept you can't change who your spouse is and you shouldn't try."
Leo nods in agreement, which tells me Josh really does know what he's talking about. An important fact I file away for later.
Josh looks around at all of us, taking a sip from his beer. "It's the reason Toby lived through his altercation with Donna and got to stay for the game. She knew it was important to me."
We sit quietly for a minute. Each of us pondering what Josh said when he opens his mouth again. "Great sex all the time helps, too."
With that little pronouncement, Josh gets up and heads down the hallway. Charlie looks around at us, before following him.
"Do you think he's right?" CJ asks when they've been gone for a few minutes.
"About which part?" Leo's still laughing.
"The getting your spouse part." I wonder if that's where Andi and I went so wrong. Neither of us was really interested sharing ourselves with the other.
Leo sobers up a bit. "Yeah. Things with Jenny really went south when I stopped paying attention to what she needed. It's the hardest part, though. Remembering to not take your partner for granted."
"I don't think I could ever do it. Subvert my individuality to someone else enough to make a marriage work." CJ shakes her head.
"If you think of it like that, you're already done. If it's the right person, you aren't subverting yourself to anything. You feel freer around them if anything. They understand you and they know what makes you tick and the thoughts behind those seemingly careless comments other people take out of context," Leo picks up where Josh left off.
***
"Can I ask you something?" Charlie closes the nursery door.
"You made a seriously stinky mess here, Bear." I wrinkle my nose at the shit in David's diaper. "What's up, Charlie?"
"When did you know Donna was the one?"
"Hand me those wipes under there will you?" I point toward the canister of baby wipes under the changing table. "Why?"
"Zoey and I have been seeing each other for quite a while now." He hands over the wipes. "And she graduated from Georgetown and all this May and started on her graduate degree at GW and I was wondering."
"There's no time limit or restraint on relationships, Charlie," I tell him, mopping the crap off David's butt. "Donna and I. We knew that we were meant for each other from the minute she came back after quitting. The two weeks she was gone were the most miserable of my life. We had to wait almost four years before we were ready, though. It wasn't about love it was about maturity and being ready for the commitment and sacrifice that comes with having a family."
"Yeah," he sighs.
"What's going on?" I probe a little, fastening the pins on David's diaper to buy some time.
"She's, I don't know, infatuated, I guess, with the idea of getting married. A bunch of her friends got engaged this summer and some of the people she knew in high school are having babies. It's all she talks about." Charlie paces the length of the nursery to stare out the window.
"How do you feel about it?" I'm pretty sure I know the answer to the question.
"Scared shitless," he says, continuing to look out the window.
I pick David up before he can start to cry. "When you think about your future, does it include Zoey?"
"Yeah."
"Well, The thing about being married is everything you do has an impact on another person. I wouldn't ever dream of having a get together like this today without talking it over with Donna first. Does that make sense?"
"I think so and I don't know if I'm ready for it, yet." Charlie turns back from the window and faces me.
"You want my honest advice?" I reach for the doorknob.
"Yeah, I do. You seem to have women figured out."
I can't help but laugh at his observation. "I have one woman figured out. As for you, if you don't think you're ready, then you're not. If you want Zoey to stick around until you are ready, then you two need to sit down and have an honest discussion about it. That's what Donna and I did, right after she came back to work for the campaign. We sat down and were very up front about our mutual attraction and the potential problems it would cause. We agreed we needed to wait until we were sure this was the real thing and we could handle the fall-out from it."
"And then you waited four years?" Charlie gapes at me.
"It took about the length of the campaign to realize it was the real thing, but yeah, it took almost four years for us to both be ready to handle the consequences." I nod.
"And you think Zoey'll understand?"
I open the door a smirk. "I highly doubt she'll understand. Very few of them are wired like Donna, Charlie. You better start thinking about biting the bullet if you want to keep Zoey in your life. At the very least, you need to talk to her about the situation."
***
"Did you have a good time?" I ask, surveying Sam, who's passed out on the couch.
"Yeah, we did. You?" Josh comes out of the kitchen carrying a full trash bag.
"I spent lots of money." I give him a kiss. "Is David asleep?"
"Out like a light. I'm going to run the trash down since you're home and can watch them both," he says.
I go check on David and drop off the bags of baby things I got this afternoon. Most of them are for David as he grows, I figure the stuff he's wearing now is gender neutral enough to use for a girl. I'm finding myself hoping this baby is a girl. It means we'll have to find a house, though. We'll need three bedrooms if we have a girl.
We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, I tell myself as I pull the tags off my purchases and put them in the hamper. Josh is back by the time I'm done putting stuff away. I find him in the kitchen, starting dinner.
"Chicken okay?" he asks, giving me a kiss.
"Sure." I lean against the counter, watching.
"Charlie cornered me this afternoon," Josh offers. "Zoey's starting to drop hints about getting married."
"Hints?" I raise my eyebrows. The gossip I'm hearing is something more akin to she's putting up billboards.
"Some guys have to be whacked over the head," Josh shrugs.
"What did you tell him?" I'm curious about how he handled this.
"That he better get the lead out and figure out what he wants. Not all women are as patient and understanding as you."
I snort. "Ass kisser."
"Yep." he grins over at me.
"If the President finds out you're encouraging Charlie to propose to Zoey, he'll string you up by your toes," I inform Josh, wiping the smirk off his face.
"I'm not encouraging anybody to do anything," he protests.
"I doubt President Bartlet will see it that way," I giggle.