Chapter 12

She sat in the Baked and Wired, staring at the door he left through, for several minutes. Tears were on the verge but never quite fell and the ache he often brought to her heart wasn't quite as strong as it had been in the past; it seemed she didn't have the strength for either of those emotions anymore. She hated what she'd become since seeing him again. That the simple sight of him could lead her to both hope and feel hopeless, to laugh and cry, to wish for the future and wish to go back. She hated that no man could make her happy; that she didn't let any get close enough to have a decent shot at it. And she wondered if after all that time, her heart had finally turned too hard for even him to penetrate. So after ten, fifteen minutes, maybe an hour of sitting there numb, she stood up and threw her uneaten container of strawberries away and walked slowly home.

And for the next few weeks she threw herself into her work. She'd always been one of those people who could do that; she did it when Michael needed her to, then four years later when Josh needed her to, and then six weeks after that when she herself needed her to. It had been her cure over and over, her own version of alcohol, and so she kept telling herself that if she worked hard enough, put in enough hours, left time for nothing else, that she'd be ok.

But it was when she was trying to fall asleep at night, when she couldn't differentiate between the memories and what her subconscious had made up over the years, that he invaded her mind and wouldn't let go. So she'd lie there and stare at the blackness of the room, going over and over and over the few times they'd seen each other until it all ran together and she wasn't so much hurt as she was confused.

And that in itself was confusing, because Josh had never confused her. It had always been so simple. She had loved him. Period. Every single bit of her had loved every single bit of him. His brilliance, his creativity, his body, his courage, his heart, his determination, his clumsiness, his helplessness… there had been no part of him that she hadn't wanted.

And he… she had always thought he loved her too. Just a little. Not the way she'd wanted him to, but… there had been something. Some part of him had taken her and made her better, and he had to have loved her a little bit to do that, she was sure of it. She had been a substitute for his sister, someone to watch over and protect and teach, and even as it broke her, it had comforted her and made her love him that much more. And it had been simple. Painfully, heart wrenchingly sad, but simple none-the-less.

Since seeing him again, however, she found that more than anything, she was confused. Not confused at how she felt; if anything she was more sure than ever that she would never stop loving him, that time hadn't diminished that love even slightly. But his feelings, which had always been so clear to her, now only left her asking questions, and those questions had grown immensely since that day two weeks earlier at the Baked and Wired.

She didn't understand how he'd turned from hot to cold so quickly. If he hated her, and he certainly looked as though he hated her, as though he couldn't stomach to be around for even a second longer, why had it felt almost like old times just moments before? Why had he been smirking and calling her Donnatella if he wanted nothing at all to do with her?

And what confused her even more is why that apparent hatred came as almost a relief to her. She couldn't quite figure out why she'd rather him hate her than not remember her at all. Maybe it was because if he remembered, then perhaps she had meant something to him all those years ago and she could stop being confused about that. Or maybe it was because if he actually hated her, she could finally truly, honestly, completely let him go. Or maybe it was because of what her mother had told her on the phone later that afternoon; that it probably wasn't hate at all. If anything, it was anger or hurt.

And so she'd lie in bed and over analyze it until she finally dozed off hours later than she'd gone to bed, still confused, still numb, and still wishing she could see him again.

zzzzzzzzzzzz

"I ran into Toby Ziegler this morning. He mentioned us holding this until February," Congressman Allen said as they sat in his office with Congressman Wilson going over the fourth draft of 726.

"It's September, it's going into committee next week," she said as she finished reading the section Mark Wilson had just marked up.

He nodded. "They think we'll have a better chance of pushing it through if the democrats win back the house in the November elections."

"And if we don't?" Congressman Wilson asked.

"Then we're in the same situation we're in now. It might pass, but probably for less money than what we're asking."

Donna didn't believe that, and she pulled out two packets of information she'd spent the last two weeks compiling to prove it, handing each of them a copy. Her personal life was a complete mess, a mess she couldn't seem to quite get a hold of, but her professional life was easy. That she could control. That she could master. She could know 726 well enough to never be confused or helpless, and she would. Because she would have control over something. And so she'd compiled a list of each of the 435 members of the House, organized them by state and party affiliation, and then recorded their vote on every education and special needs bill they'd ever encountered so she'd know walking in how they'd vote. And just to be safe, she added any public statements they'd made regarding children with special needs or early education, and then included overall public opinion in their states on the same subjects. And finally, she listed the number of reported children with special needs in each member's state and the allotment of money the bill requested for that state. "I think we can get the votes," she said confidently. "407 members of the House are running for re-election. No one's going to shut down an education bill this close to election."

"The republicans…"

"Will say these children would benefit more from care than education," she finished. "At which point, both the Children'sAlliance and the National Children's Advocacy Consortium are prepared to back us as we ever so gently remind them that every child deserves an education."

"Toby mentioned that it'd be a great bill to start the new session with."

"If we can pass it this session, we can get it in next year's budget."

Congressman Allen nodded. "I'm meeting with Sam Seaborn on something else tomorrow. I'll bring it up then."

Donna started putting her things into her attaché case, hesitant to even bring him up after he ignored her that morning when she jogged past his car. But it was a children's issue, and to Josh, children and education were top priorities. He'd know the right thing to do. "Josh Lyman is a large proponent of children and education. Try to get Mr. Seaborn to talk to him. This will be easier if we get the White House's support and if Josh thinks we should wait, we probably should."

Brett Allen looked at her for a few seconds. "Alright, I'll see what I can do."

She nodded and stood up. "I have to go, I have class. But I'll run these changes by our legal department and get back with you sometime tomorrow."

Mark Wilson smiled at her. "Thanks Donna."

"I'll let you know what I find out with Sam," Congressman Allen said.

"Thank you." She smiled at them and left Congressman Allen's office, glancing both ways down the hallway before turning to her left and heading towards the north doors. She found that lately she did that, kept an eye out for Josh. She told herself it was so she could avoid horrible confrontations like at the Baked and Wired, but she didn't really believe it. She still ached to be around him, even knowing it would most likely hurt in the end.

She walked out and started heading the four blocks north to the Law Campus, thankful that all three of her classes were on the smaller more central campus. It was only her first week and already it was saving her time.

"Donna?"

She stopped walking and turned her head.

"Donna, right?"

Her eyes widened and a smile lit her face. "Margaret?" Margaret, the one friend she'd had during the campaign other than Josh, stood about ten feet from her with a woman who looked to be in her forties.

"Hi. Wow, hi," she said as they walked closer.

Donna nodded. "It's great to see you!"

"You too. I didn't know you…" she stopped talking and they stood there awkwardly for a second before Donna finally just stepped forward and hugged her. "Do you live here in town?" Margaret asked as she hugged her back.

"Yes." She pulled back and looked at her. "How are you?"

"Great! I'm great. I just… I'm…" she held up some papers her hand. "I'm delivering these for Leo."

Donna smiled wider. "You're still with the administration then."

"Oh, yeah. Of course. I've been with Leo for ages." She looked over at the woman she was with and then back at Donna. "April, this is Donna…."

"Moss."

"Yes, sorry. Donna Moss. She volunteered for the first campaign for a while. She worked with Josh. Donna, this is April Messick, one of Josh's assistants."

Donna stared in shock for a second at the woman who now probably ran Josh's life. She was older, in her forties probably, was heavy-set with light brown hair and looked like she ran a tight ship. "That's great," she said with a smile as she shook the woman's hand. "He's wonderful to work with, isn't he?"

The woman chuckled as if Donna was kidding. "He… has his moments."

"Ahh…" She looked back at Margaret with raised eyebrows. Who the hell was this chick?

"Does Josh know you're in town? He was like a boy who lost his puppy after you left. You should…"

"He does know, actually," Donna said, cutting her off. She couldn't get into things with Margaret. Probably not anywhere, but certainly not on the street a block from the Capitol building. "Margaret, I have to go. I'm so sorry, I'm late for something. But we should… I'd love to get together for coffee or…"

"Yes, absolutely. Are you in the phone book?"

She nodded and started to walk away. "Yes, call me. It was great seeing you." She turned then and walked quickly the rest of the way to campus, so preoccupied with whether or not Margaret or that April woman would mention seeing her to Josh that she'd been sitting in class for almost a half an hour before something Margaret said registered with her. 'He was like a boy who lost his puppy after you left.' She sighed and closed her eyes, confused.

zzzzzzzzzzzzz

She left the law library that Sunday night a few minutes before eight. The semester, one week old, was already shaping up to be a tough one, and she'd really hoped to stay until the library closed at ten, but had put off grocery shopping for too long. She packed her things up and walked to her car, turning on the radio to a retro station to give herself a break from the case review she'd just been working on, and headed to the Safeway in Georgetown.

She was looking at watermelons when he walked into the produce section. She could see him staring at her out of the corner of her eye, and like every time before, she could feel her pulse beginning to race.

She tried not to look directly at him, tried to pretend she didn't know he was there and wait for him to keep walking and leave the produce section, but he didn't keep walking. He stopped, standing just a few feet from her in front of the bananas, and she was confused again. Because, if he didn't want to talk to her, why had he stopped in an otherwise completely empty section of the store in front of a fruit that he hated, and why was he still watching her?

She took a deep breath and looked up at him with what she hoped was a neutral smile, and like he was caught, he looked quickly down at the bananas in front of him. And later, she'd be thankful that she remembered their conversation about bananas and cantaloupe, because it was watching him put a few into a bag that made her think he was as unsure about this as she was. And that's what gave her the courage to speak. "So, we must live near each other."

He paused for a second, as if he was surprised to hear her voice, then put his bananas in his basket and started picking up nectarines. "Guess so."

She couldn't remember by then which watermelons had sounded the most ripe, she couldn't hear hollow over the pounding of her chest, but she couldn't stand there forever, so she picked one up and put it into her cart. And then the others began slipping and rolling down the pile like an avalanche, and she was grabbing them and holding them and trying to keep from making a huge mess in front of him. She could feel her cheeks beginning to flush and she was twisted around and she really wished she could crawl into a hole and hide. She glanced around for anyone, anyone at all who could help her, but he was the only one there, so she finally looked over at him. "Could you uhh…help me here?" she asked in humiliation. He continued standing where he was, a nectarine in his hand, staring at her, and she just knew that if one went, they'd all follow. "Josh, I'm about to make a huge mess here."

He paused for another second before putting his basket on the floor and walking up her. "Good catch," he said, and had she not been looking down in utter humiliation, she would've looked to see if he was smirking at her. But he took the watermelons from her one by one and put them back on the stack.

When there was only one left, she stood upright holding it. "Thank you," she said, still looking for that hole to crawl into.

"You're welcome," he said softly as he took the last watermelon from her hands. His fingers touched hers and it might as well have been lightening, because she hadn't felt a spark like that in more than four years. She looked up at him but he simply took the watermelon and put it in his basket, on top of the bananas.

He wasn't looking at her, and she wondered if he was going to leave. "You didn't knock on it," she said, a last ditch effort to get him to talk to her.

He looked at her as he picked up the basket. "Knock on it?"

She took a tentative step closer. "To see if it's hollow," she said quietly.

"Hollow?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

She nodded and knocked on his watermelon, hoping she was keeping her voice light. "They sound hollow when they're ripe."

"Oh…kay."

She remembered that voice of his; that 'you're completely nuts, but I'm going to go along with you on this anyway' voice she'd always pretended to be annoyed with, and she looked up at him and smiled. "They do!"

"Where do you get this stuff?"

"It's well known stuff, Josh," she said before walking back to her cart.

"If you say so." He smirked at her and started walking, and she thought she'd let him go, count this run-in as a success and say goodbye before she did anything else humiliating. But he was walking slowly, as if he was waiting for her, so she pushed her cart up next to him and they walked into the bread section together.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye as they walked. He was wearing a short sleeve shirt and his hand gripped his basket, holding the weight of it and showing off the muscles in his forearms, and she thought back to the first time she realized they were a turn on for her. She'd been sitting in a hotel room watching him twirl a pen and run his fingers through his hair, and she'd sat across from him with an innocent look on her face thinking of how strong he would be holding himself up over her.

"You don't live in Wisconsin anymore."

She tore her gaze from his arm as a loaf of bread landed in the basket he was holding, then she took it out and replaced it with a whole wheat loaf. And it wasn't until she was reaching for a loaf of the same for herself that she realized what she'd done, and her mouth dropped open in horror. Suddenly, she was looking for that hole again and wishing she'd dropped the stupid watermelons, because that wouldn't have been nearly as embarrassing as switching his food. The only thing to do at that point was to leave her cart in the middle of the bread section and run away screaming, but she ignored it instead. "I moved here two years ago," she said while glancing at him to gauge his reaction. He had that wide-eyed look of his that he used to get when she'd done something crazy that humored him, and she almost smiled to herself. "But I just moved to Georgetown in July; a few weeks before I saw you at the Shell on P Street."

They walked out of the bread section, him still with the bread she'd given him, and headed towards the deli. "Why DC?"

"Law school," she said tentatively as she avoided eye contact with him, not having realized until just that moment how much it meant to her that he know she'd gone back to school. They walked up to the deli and a woman behind the counter looked at her. "A half-pound of turkey breast. Shaved, please," she said, trying to act casual but worried that between the watermelon fiasco, the bread switch, and talk of law school, she might actually vomit from nerves.

"Law school?"

She looked at him and put on a brave smile. "I just started my last year on Monday."

He looked down at the t-shirt she was wearing. "At Georgetown?"

"Yep." And then he smiled at her. Not a smirk or a fake, plastic smile, but a real smile that brought out his dimples, and she actually had to hold her hand down to her side to keep from reaching out and tracing them with her fingers, because watermelons and bread aside, she couldn't assault him in Safeway.

"What type of law?"

She was still staring at his dimples, brought out just for her, and it took her a few seconds to answer. Of everything she'd missed about him, they might have topped the list. "Child advocacy."

His eyes widened a bit. "Child advocacy?"

The woman behind the counter held her turkey out to her and she turned and took it, still looking at her as she quietly said, "Someone once told me children needed to be our top priority."

She wondered if he remembered telling her that, if he'd be proud of her. She'd always loved it when he looked at her with pride in his eyes; it had always made her want to earn that look again. But she worried to, that by mentioning it, he'd revert back to the shell he'd gone into at the Baked and Wired when she mentioned their time together. The deli worker asked if she could help him, but he didn't answer, and she bit her lip and slowly turned and looked at him. His smile got even bigger and she couldn't help matching it.

"Sir?"

He looked at the woman in the deli before looking back at Donna with a childlike grin on his face. "Same thing."

They left the deli and started slowly up and down the aisles of the grocery store, barely paying the food any attention as conversation went from awkward to easy in a matter of minutes. "So, how do you like DC?" he asked as she put some asparagus and green beans into her cart.

She looked up at him as he pulled down two cans of asparagus and added them to his basket. He'd done that three or four times, adding to his basket whatever she'd added to her cart, and it was hard not to tease him about it. "It's hot here."

He chuckled at her and put his basket on top of her cart, then started pushing it further down the aisle while she stared at him, remembering how he used to take her suitcase for her when she was tired. "It's the first week of September."

She bit back her smile and took a few quick steps to catch up with him. "Still, I feel like I'm in the core of the earth."

"The core of the earth, I guess."

She shrugged and smiled slyly at him as he pushed her cart down the next aisle and she walked along beside him. "I'm just saying, it's hot."

"Fine," he said, smiling at her. "Disregarding the heat, how do you like DC?"

"I love it," she said, nodding slightly to herself. "And you? What have you been up to?" She itched to add, 'And are you dating Amy Gardner?' but thought better of it.

He chuckled. "We're in the middle of the campaign. That's what I've been up to. I don't have time for anything else."

They passed the condiments and without stopping, she picked up two bottles of spicy mustard, putting one in his basket and the other in her cart. "How's the campaign going?"

"It's…" he stopped walking with the cart and looked at the mustard for a second. "What about mayonnaise?"

Mayonnaise? Who the hell was letting him eat mayonnaise? "Mustard's better for you."

He raised his eyebrows and after a second, started walking again. "The campaign's going pretty well. The debate's in a few weeks, so we've been working on that." He looked over at her. "And we're still trying to get people past the MS thing."

"You mean the possibility that the president might someday have a health problem like every president who's come before him and every president who'll come after him? People are still struggling with that?"

He smiled and she thought he looked… almost relieved. "I guess since his has been diagnosed and all."

"Still, he's fine." She looked over at him. "He is fine, isn't he?"

He nodded. "Absolutely."

"Then…" she shrugged and trailed off as they rounded the corner.

When they finished shopping and paying, he pushed the cart outside to her car and stood there as she put her bags into the backseat. When she closed the door and turned around, he glanced quickly at the ground before looking off towards a car that she assumed was his. "Thanks for pushing my cart," she said quietly.

He looked back at her and grinned. "You're welcome."

It was quiet then, the first awkward pause they'd had that night, and she wanted nothing more than to give him her phone number, invite him out for a late dinner, test out the strength of his arms. "I guess I'll…" she gestured towards her car.

"Yeah," he said softly, staring at her with warm brown eyes. "Yeah," he said again. "I should get home. I have some things to go over for work tomorrow."

"Kay."

"I guess I'll… see you around then."

She nodded. "I hope so."

He paused and looked at her for a second, and she wondered if she'd been too forward. But then he smiled and nodded, the air lifting immediately. "Yeah, me too." He opened her door and held it for her while she sat down inside, then said goodnight and closed it behind her, watching her put her keys into the ignition and drive off.

And she barely made it out of the parking lot before she was screaming and laughing and pulling her cell from her purse and calling her mom. "Hello?"

"Ask me how I am?"