Chapter 14

"I'm signing up for a cooking class," Liz said, walking into her office and sitting down. "You should take it with me."

Donna cracked a smile at her. "And when exactly do I have the time for that? Should I drop a class or two to fit it in?"

"Valid point," she said, pulling a gummy worm out of a Ziploc bag and chewing on it.

Donna closed the file on her desk and leaned back in her chair. "Why are you taking a cooking class?"

Liz got a huge smile on her face and put her hand on her completely flat stomach. "Because I can't cook for crap and I'm going to be a mother in eight and a half months."

Donna laughed and shook her head. Five days and she was Mrs. Cleaver. Her intercom beeped and she hit the button. "Yes?" she asked Marissa at the front desk.

"You have a call on line one. It's Josh Lyman."

Her eyes went wide. Josh was calling her. About lunch the next day. Suddenly she couldn't breathe. "Ok, thanks." She looked down and adjusted her suit jacket as if he'd be able to see her while they spoke, then took a deep breath and stared at the blinking button on the phone. "Friendly but not too excited," she mumbled to herself before taking one more deep breath and picking up. "Hi!" she said, cringing at how excited she sounded.

"Hi." He didn't say anything else to her and a second later she heard him talking to someone in the background but couldn't make out what he was saying. "Sorry, we've got… sorry."

"That's alright," she said, twisting the phone cord in her hand. "What's up?"

He sighed into the phone. "I have to cancel lunch tomorrow."

She felt her heart lurch and closed her eyes. "Oh," she said as bravely as possible. "That's ok."

"There's a tropical storm hitting the gulf coast in two hours and we're on our way to Memphis for the day, so the President wants to go down there after the storm's through and check out the damage."

"Right, of course."

"I'm really sorry. I just… sometimes I don't know…"

She cut him off. "It's ok, Josh," she said in a firm voice. "It can be crazy, I'm sure. I appreciate you letting me know."

"Yeah."

It was quiet for a few seconds and she searched for something to say. "Ok, well…"

"Can we…" he said, cutting her off. "What about next week sometime?"

And suddenly she smiled so widely that she worried he'd somehow see it or hear it or… something. She stood up and faced her window, the phone cord twisting around her body. "Absolutely," she said, not even caring how excited her voice sounded.

"Yeah?" he asked and if she'd let herself, she would've thought he sounded hopeful, eager maybe.

"Yes, that sounds good… great, actually," she said, suddenly unable to control her mouth. She worried she might propose next. "Why don't you give me a call when you're back in town and we'll reschedule?"

"Ok." He paused for a second. "I really am sorry," he said quietly.

"Yeah, me too," she said the same way.

His voice turned teasing then. "Damn tropical storm."

She chuckled. "Interfering with our plans like that."

"It's quite rude if you ask me," he said in an absolutely adorable voice that made her pulse quicken.

She turned around, facing her desk again, her smile even wider. "Extremely rude." She heard him talking to someone in the background again, telling them he'd be right there. "Alright. Go, fix the gulf. I'll talk to in a few days."

"Kay. I'll call you Monday."

The phone went dead and she took it from her ear, staring at it for a second before hanging it up and sitting down. She sighed a happy sigh and looked up, her eyes growing wide when she saw Liz sitting across from her giving her an amused look.

"Well that explains the strange behavior."

She tried to stop smiling, but it wouldn't leave her face, so she played innocent. "Strange behavior?"

"The smiling, the humming, the wardrobe questions, the teasy-ness…"

"It's still not a word, even when you add 'ness' to the end of it."

"Shut-up." She paused and looked closer at Donna, studying her. "You're dating Josh Lyman," she said pointedly.

"No I'm not," she said adamantly. She'd spent the last two days convincing herself of that very thing, she didn't need Liz to suck her back in. "We're just… having lunch."

"A lunch date is still a date and you like him."

"I don't like him," she denied.

"No?" Liz asked with raised eyebrows. "Then stop smiling."

She tried and couldn't. "Just because I'm smiling doesn't mean…"

Liz cut her off. "You've got it bad for Josh Lyman."

"I do not!"

"When is this lunch date?"

"Our lunch non-date was supposed to be tomorrow but he had to reschedule because of a tropical storm in the gulf."

"Crappy excuse if you ask me," Liz said with a gleam in her eye.

"It's a perfectly valid excuse and I didn't."

"So… this is why we're having pedicures and manicures in the morning?"

"No! I just… thought it would be nice. Since you're…" she gestured towards Liz's stomach.

"You're using the baby as an excuse?" she asked indignantly.

"No! I just…"

"You want him."

"No I don't."

"You really do."

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

She made sure to arrive early to Congressman Wilson's office, where the two of them and Sam Seaborn had a meeting with Congressmen Hamilton and Walker. It was her first meeting for the bill, and if she walked out of there with their votes, that would only leave 284 more that she'd need.

She walked into the office and Sam was talking on his cell phone. He nodded at her and she smiled, staying back several steps so she didn't intrude on his call. He hung up a few seconds later and walked up to her. "Good morning."

"Good morning."

"That was Josh. He said 'do good.'"

Her smile widened. "He did?"

"Yeah," he said with a smile of his own. "He's not the most eloquent."

It was perfectly eloquent, but she didn't say that, didn't tell him that it used to be their thing when she worked for him and that by remembering it, he'd made her entire day. She just nodded. "It was very nice. Tell him I said thank you."

The others arrived shortly afterwards and Sam introduced Donna to the two congressmen she'd never met before. Mark Wilson's assistant shuffled them all into a small conference room and asked if anyone wanted coffee.

Congressman Hamilton was the first to speak when they got to business. "I have a few concerns with this bill."

"What are they?" asked Congressman Wilson.

"Well, you say children with special needs and every parent in America thinks their child is special."

Donna cleared her throat very softly before leaning forward. "Congressman, the wording of this bill has been carefully crafted to include only children with autism, cerebral palsy, mental retardation, down syndrome, microcephaly, mitochondrial and spina bifida. And not all children with cerebral palsy and mitochondrial will qualify."

"Then you'll have parents and organizations screaming about special needs children who don't qualify. Even I'm wondering why some disabilities are included and others aren't. We had that problem a few years back with the children's diseases bill and I don't want another filibuster gone wrong."

"Are there specific disabilities you're concerned about?" asked Congressman Allen.

"Cystic fibrosis and muscular dystrophy come to mind. Hearing impaired, visually impaired, and why won't all children with cerebral palsy and mitochondrial qualify?"

"This program is for children with learning disabilities, Congressman," Donna said. "Not all cerebral palsy and mitochondrial cases include learning disabilities. And the others are physical disabilities, which are included in previous legislation."

"My concern," Congressman Walker said in a loud booming voice, "Is that we don't even know that these children will benefit from this."

Congressman Hamilton turned towards him. "Every child benefits from an education, Doug."

"At the expense of the tax payer?"

"Absolutely at the expense of the tax payer. Taxes pay for all public education. Let constituents choose what their money's being spent on and over 90 percent will say education."

"90 percent of taxpayers don't have these children."

"You gonna campaign on that Doug?" Mark Wilson asked.

He looked at Mark Wilson and then back at Donna. "I'm not saying I don't sympathize, but we're already helping to fund care for these kids."

"Congressman," Donna said, leaning forward in her seat. "Children have a higher capacity for learning when they're young. Every study, every report, every educator, all evidence we have says the earlier a child starts learning, the better off they are in the long run. That's why we have pre-school programs. The question isn't whether we should have them for these children; the question is why we don't already."

He stared at her for several seconds, then nodded. "Alright Ms. Moss. Talk to me about money allocations."

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

She was on the phone with Liz when she heard the buzzer, and as if caught in the act of… something, she turned sharply and stared at the door. "He's here," she whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" Liz asked with a whisper of her own.

"Shut-up," she said, walking over to the buzzer and staring at it. "I've got to go."

"Have you buzzed him in?"

"I'm working up to it," she said with her hand on the buzzer.

"He'll eventually give up and go home, you know."

She quickly hit the button. "Ok, now I've got to go."

"Call me after."

She hung up and stood next to the door. Then she turned and looked towards the hallway to her bedroom, re-thinking her outfit. Was it too casual? Too formal? Too cold outside for sandals? It was almost October, was she breaking some sort of after Labor Day rule? He knocked and she spun back around. She paused there for a few seconds and took a deep breath, finally reaching for the door and putting on a smile she hoped hid her nervousness.

She opened the door and nearly melted. He was wearing well-worn jeans that seemed to be custom-made for him and an untucked, unbuttoned shirt over a dark green t-shirt that was tucked into said custom-made jeans. Sandals rounded out the outfit and she smiled; he looked… relaxed. Like he was any guy in the world with any job in the world, and it was a typical Sunday and he was having lunch with a friend. She wondered if that's what they were, friends. She couldn't really say that's what they'd been before. She'd been his assistant, and they were friendly, and they certainly had a relationship that most wouldn't consider strictly professional, and of course, she'd been head over heels in love with him and he'd looked at her like a little sister, but she wondered if he'd considered her a friend too.

"Hi," he said after several seconds.

She held the door open a little further. "Hi, come in."

He paused for a second and then walked inside. "You like plants," he said, looking around the living room.

She'd almost suggested they meet at a restaurant for that very reason. The living room alone must've had fifteen plants in it, as well as a hideous couch and matching chair, and she quickly spoke to assure him it wasn't her taste. "They're not mine. A woman I work with is on sabbatical in Africa," she rambled. "My lease was coming due and she asked if I'd move in here for six months and water her plants."

"Ahh…" he said, walking around the living room.

"Not really my style, I admit," she said, adjusting a dark beige blanket she'd put on the back of the couch to tone it down a bit. "But since I only work part time, it was hard to turn down rent-free living for six months."

He turned back towards her and she quickly put her hands behind her back. "What are you going to do in six months when the Baked and Wired isn't two blocks away?" he asked teasingly, easing her nervousness a little.

"I have no idea," she said almost seriously. The Baked and Wired had become a nearly daily habit.

They stood there for a second, just looking at each other until he finally smiled and nodded towards the door, and she felt like an idiot for not getting the hint. He held the door open for her and she grabbed her purse and walked out. "So, what are you hungry for?"

She shrugged. "You pick."

His gaze drifted for just a second and then the corners of his mouth quirked up. "Ok, how about Greek?" She loved Greek, but not two days in a row and she and Liz had eaten at Zorba's Cafe the day before when they'd gone shopping for maternity clothes at least four months before Liz would need them. "You know you want to pick," he said, chuckling when she scrunched up her face. "Just do it."

She pretended to pout and elbowed him in the side. It felt nice, teasing each other again. They walked out the main doors and she took a deep breath. It was an awesome day outside and she wondered where they could go with outdoor seating. "Do you like Jonathan's Deli?"

He nodded. "Sure. You want to drive or walk?"

Jonathan's was only a fifteen minute walk and it would be nice to spend time with him doing nothing. "Walk."

He nodded and they started down the sidewalk. It was quiet and a bit awkward, and she could feel herself getting more and more nervous as they walked. "So… it was nice to see Toby Ziegler again."

"He said the same thing about you." It went silent again and she tried to appear at ease, looking up at the sky and around at buildings, but inside she was belittling herself for recommending walking. A full minute had gone by without either of them speaking when he looked back over at her. "He said that he tried to steal you away from me when… during the…" he trailed off and gestured.

She smiled slightly, keeping her hands down to her side so he couldn't see them shaking, and nodded. "Several times."

"Several times?" he asked in a high, squeaky voice, and her smile got wider as she tried not to laugh.

"Yes. The first time I'd been cleaning your office a day or two after we got back from South Carolina, and he walked in looking for you while I was handling a call from a donor that you really didn't need to get stuck talking to. When I hung up, he said if I came to work for him, he'd never make me clean anything. After that, he just occasionally asked me. Usually after you…" she stopped suddenly.

"After I what?"

"You know… yelled or something."

His eyes went wide. "I yelled at you?"

"No," she said, laughing. "You yelled for me."

"Oh…" he trailed off and looked forward again, but then quickly looked back at her. "How elsewere you supposed to know I needed you?"

"Exactly," she said emphatically. "That's what I told CJ."

"CJ tried to steal you too?" he asked with wide eyes.

She nodded, a huge smile now permanently on her face. "Only once. At some high school in…" she knew exactly where the high school was, but she pretended to try to remember so he wouldn't think she was some lunatic who'd pined over him for four years. She thought it best that he not know that about her. " Pennsylvania, I think. I convinced a janitor to let us move the rally from the gym into the auditorium and she told me to forget you and work for her."

"Traitors. Every one of them," he said shaking his head but smiling all the same.

She laughed again, thankful that the awkwardness seemed to be gone and that they were able to actually talk about the time she worked for him. "Do they try to steal… April, right?"

"No…" he drew out. "She's not like you."

"Proficient at her job?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

"Pleasant to be around."

"Ahh…"

"Yes."

It was quiet again after that, but not the thick silence that had left the apartment with them, and she glanced over at him to see him smiling, his dimples out and an air of easiness about him.

They got to Jonathan's a few minutes later and walked to the counter to order and she started getting nervous again. This was always the worst part about a first date… not that this was a date, she reminded herself. It was a… semi-date, at best. With a man who may or may not still consider her a semi-sister and who may or may not harbor some feelings of hate or at least anger towards her. All of which just made her question first date etiquette even more. Should she get out her wallet and at least offer to pay for her lunch? Would he expect her to and would she look bad if she didn't offer? Or if she did offer, would he be offended and think that she didn't think it was a semi-date? And if he did pay, would it because he thought it was a semi-date or because she bought breakfast a week and a half earlier? Men were so confusing.

"Donna…" he said, interrupting her thoughts.

She shook her head a little and looked at him. "Yes?"

"Uhh…" he looked at the cashier and then back at her. "Do you know what you want?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'll have…" she glanced up at the wall behind the counter serving as the menu. "A salad with… chicken on it…" Where the hell were the salads? "Grilled chicken, and… some sort of Italian dressing. And a… an iced tea."

He chuckled at her as he handed the kid his credit card, answering at least her first question, but not the second. "You sure you're ready to order?"

"Yes!" she said as she lightly elbowed him in the arm. "See," she said, gesturing to the wall, finally having found the salads. "Grilled chicken salad, right there."

"Uh huh," he said doubtfully, taking two styrofoam cups and his receipt and card from the cashier.

They filled their drinks and found a table outside under an umbrella, and then Josh went back to the counter to wait for their food. When he got back, it was quiet for a minute while she prepared her salad and he picked things off of his sandwich and opened his potato chips and she smiled when she saw that they were Baked Lays. "Can I ask you a question," she asked quietly a minute later.

"Ok."

She hesitated and he looked down at his sandwich. "That woman I met last week, Debbie. Is she the President's secretary?" She hadn't put two and two together until later, but then it had seemed strange to her. The woman she met had seemed so very different from Mrs. Landingham.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Mrs. Landingham passed away about a year and a half ago."

She nodded and took a drink of her iced tea. "I know, I was at her funeral," she said softly.

"You were?" he asked with a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Yeah. You looked…" 'so much better than you had just before Christmas,' went through her mind. "Really tired."

"It was a long week," he paused and looked at her. "Wait, you saw me?"

She smiled. "You were a pallbearer."

He nodded and took a bite of his sandwich. "Now I get to ask you a question."

Butterflies swam in her stomach and she nodded at him. "Ok."

"What's your undergrad degree?"

"Political Science with a minor in children's studies." He raised his eyebrows and she matched his look. "What?"

"It's just…" he gestured towards her and smiled. "That's exactly what you're doing."

"Well, I'd wasted enough time. I needed to get in and get out; one major, one minor, no switching." He chuckled and she wondered if he remembered the day they met as she nervously rambled off every major and minor she'd even considered in her first two years at UW. "My turn," she said, stabbing into her salad. "Do you still love what you do?"

He swallowed the bite of sandwich in his mouth and got a grin on his face that made her think of a ten year-old. "Every day. Do you really like the Mets now?"

"Yes, but I'm not impressed with Piazza," she said before taking a drink of her tea and considering her next move in this game of 20 questions they were playing. One question nagged her, had nagged her since the night of the Rock the Vote concert over a month ago. Was he still with Amy Gardner? But she didn't think she could ask that without looking like a stalker, so instead she asked, "Are you still with Mandy?" hoping he'd say something along the lines of 'No, I'm not with anyone.'

Instead he started choking. "Mandy! No. No, no, no. No. No," he said, shaking his head.

"So, no?" she asked him with an amused smile. Because even though he hadn't answered her real question, he'd led her to believe that he finally got a clue about Mandy Hampton. And if he had a clue about her, maybe he had a clue about Amy Gardner.

He continued shaking his head. "No. Are you still with…"

It took her just a second to realize he was asking about Michael and she felt a brief pang of guilt for using him as her excuse all those years ago. "Michael," she finished for him. "And no." He smirked then and she couldn't help almost reading into it. If he was happy that she wasn't with Michael, maybe he did consider it a semi-date. She stole a chip off his plate to hide the smile that thought caused. "Don't smirk."

He watched her eat the chip with a look she couldn't quite place and then chuckled at her. "Still stealing food, I see."

She thought it ridiculous that him remembering the simplest things about her made her heart beat so fast, but she played it off, popping another of his chips into her mouth. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said innocently.