TITLE: People Move On
AUTHOR: Micky Fine
DISCLAIMER: See first chapter.
SPOILERS: See first chapter.
SUMMARY: See first chapter. Seeing the pattern?
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you to those of you who sent very kind reviews. They were greatly appreciated. This chapter is from Josh's POV but the content follows Donna's recollections almost immediately. Again, the placement of this chapter goes right after Josh's conversation with Leo in Impact Winter but before his sudden dash to Houston. Reviews enjoyed greatly.
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People move on? That's all Leo has to say when I tell him that this woman who means so much to me is gone? I've been avoiding dealing with it for most of today, but every time I pass her desk and see Marla sitting there it twists the invisible knife that was plunged into my gut when I found out. She left me. The one person who I never thought would go has indeed gone. And this time I don't think she's coming back.
But maybe this is a good thing. I had been worried about pulling Donna into some crazy hunt for the next Democratic candidate and now that she has gone I don't have to worry about her. And yet, I already feel an anxiety building over what will become of Donna now. She has a job lined up, I know, but I have always protected Donna, always watched out for her.
As my mind hurtles forward to what I should do next, some hidden corner of it urges me to look back and remember. I lean into the doorframe of C.J.'s former office and resting my head against the hard corners of the wood, I close my eyes. I promise myself that this will only be a brief moment of recollection. There are millions of things I need to think out right now, but instead I think back to a time before I had fallen in love with Donnatella Moss.
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"Look. I think I can be good at this. I think you might find me valuable."
I actually study the face of this odd young woman for the first time since I ran across her answering my phone. There are so many emotions on her face: desperation, pride, and determination. I consider the passion with which this woman spoke to me a moment ago. She's dedicated. And after a brief survey of my office I realize that she's organized too. She's also the first volunteer I've met who actually followed me when I started walking. Something deep inside me says that this woman isn't flaky and that her last statement could turn out to be truer than I could ever imagine.
The ringing of the telephone on the desk interrupts my consideration of this woman. We hold eye contact for several seconds longer and it is the pleading that I see there that makes my final decision for me. I nod in the direction of the phone.
"Go ahead."
I watch her with an odd sense of pride, considering I met her less than five minutes ago.
"Bartlet for America, Josh Lyman's office ... uh, yes ... I think I'm going to have someone from the press office get back to you if it relates to ... yes ... uh, yes."
I take off my Bartlet for America ID tag and hold it out to her. When she takes it from me, our hands brush and I am surprised by the tingle that runs down my spine. Looking at the laminated piece of paper, she turns back to face me and gives me the most amazing smile I've ever seen. She continues to speak into the phone.
"Yes."
I smile and head back out into the noise of the campaign office. Before I walk out of sight of my office, I look back just in time to see Donna hang up the phone and then pump her fist in victory. Then regaining her composure, she drapes my old ID tag over her neck and returns back to organizing my office. Again I feel the inexplicable swelling of pride but it's interrupted when I hear Governor Bartlet yelling at another staffer. With an internal groan, I head out to find Leo so that he can corral our candidate.
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I come back to my office later that night around 9 o'clock. For the most part the building is empty, with just the few of us who returned from the fundraiser that was held earlier in the evening. I'm surprised to see a light on in my office and am even more shocked to see Donna still working. There isn't a single volunteer in sight except for the young Ms. Moss. Once again her dedication impresses me and the small swell of pride at finding such a gem reappears. I step across the threshold expecting a greeting and instead I am thoroughly ignored.
"Donna?"
"Oh. Hi."
"Hi."
After her brief greeting she continues to ignore me in favor of what appears to rather dull paperwork. I skirt around where she is sitting on the floor with a stack of papers and a cardboard box and sit behind my desk. I stretch and yawn and then glance at the papers that are centered in front of me.
"Hey, these are the numbers for South Carolina that I was looking for this afternoon."
"I know. I heard you yelling about it. I ran across them while I was cleaning tonight. I would have phoned you and told you I found them, but you didn't give me a contact number."
"Oh, yeah, I should do that."
I pat around my desk to find a scrap piece of paper and a pen, which becomes a moot effort when Donna sticks a pad of Post-Its and a pen under my nose.
"Thanks."
"No problem, it's what I'm supposed to do, right?"
"I guess. Honestly, the assistants I had when I worked for Hoynes weren't nearly as efficient as you."
"Hang on. You worked for Hoynes?"
"Yeah."
"You worked on his campaign?"
"Un-huh."
"And you switched campaigns to work for Bartlet?"
"Yup."
"Good. Hoynes just doesn't strike me as someone who knows what he's standing for."
I give Donna a startled look. It amazes me that despite the fact she has never met the man, she analyzed the exact problem that I had with his campaign.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that?"
"What makes you think that?"
"The look you just gave me."
"Oh, no, Donna. I was just surprised at how accurate your perceptions are."
"Well, I'm a relatively good judge of character. Until it comes to boyfriends. But that doesn't really matter to you."
I'm almost tempted to ask her about her past boyfriends but then realize that that would be slightly inappropriate, considering I just hired her today. I'm trying to think of another topic of conversation when she beats me to it.
"You guys are taking commercial flights to Charleston?"
"Yeah."
"What flight are you on?"
"Umm, I had it written down here somewhere."
Once again I search the top of my newly organized desk.
"Was it on a small scrap of paper?'
"Yes."
"This it?"
She hands me a small slip of paper covered in a jumble of letters and numbers. I quickly interpret it for her, and she jots down the information. We then go through several other small pieces of paper she found. She writes down what exactly they mean and then stows the notes inside my calendar. Finally, she gets up from where she was sitting cross-legged on the floor beside my desk and sits in one of the chairs across from me. She stretches and there are several audible cracking sounds. She rolls her head, causing her neck to crack and then returns her attention to me.
"What time is it?"
"A little after nine."
"Wow, I completely lost track of time. I hope what I did is ok."
I survey my office and am amazed to see just how clean she's made it. I'm suddenly sorry that we're leaving for Charleston tomorrow because this office would be a pleasure to work in now.
"Donna, it's amazing. Seriously, I've never had anyone work for me that could organize the chaos that tends to follow me."
"Well, I have a knack for stuff like this."
"There's an understatement."
She smiles at the compliment and then closes her eyes. I watch as exhaustion overwhelms her face for a brief moment but when her blue eyes meet mine once again all signs of fatigue have disappeared.
"So, what do you need to take to Charleston? I talked to Margaret this afternoon, and if I have the boxes in front of Leo's office for first thing tomorrow they can be couriered there and should arrive some time tomorrow night."
I reel off a list of what I need and Donna quickly fills two cartons with file folders and stacks of papers. I then watch amazed as she hauls each of them up individually and carries them down to Leo's office. After carting the boxes out, Donna flops once more into the chair across for me. This time the exhaustion appears and doesn't go away. She wipes her eyes and then amazingly gives me a smile.
"Anything else I need to do tonight?"
"No. Honestly, Donna, it's shocking just how much you have done."
"Thanks."
We both sit in silence for a moment surveying Donna's handiwork.
"So, should I just meet you at the airport tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I really hadn't planned on coming by here, so meeting you at the airport would be best."
"Ok, I'll meet you at the counter at 10."
"Great."
We both get up and I gather my coat from the corner where I threw it that morning. I follow Donna and turn out the lights. I decide to wait for her as she grabs her coat from where she left it. I wave at Toby and Sam who are doing a blow-by-blow of the speech from earlier that evening. Then I guide Donna out of the campaign office.
Donna points at where she parked her car.
"Well, I'm over there."
I give the vehicle an incredulous look.
"You drove that from Wisconsin?"
"She may not look like much but she runs better than you'd think."
I nod and head in the opposite direction to where I left my rental car but am halted by her voice.
"Josh?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for letting me stay."
She gives me a long smile and then pulling her coat closer to her body she walks off to her car. I watch her drive off and then walk to my car. There definitely is something different about her.
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I'm stuffing my clothes in random order into my suitcase at 8 a.m. that morning when my cell phone rings. I check the ID and don't recognize the number.
"Hello?"
I am greeted by what sounds like the screeching metal makes when it's pulled to its limits. There also seems to be a voice but I am unable to discern exactly who it is and what he or she is saying. I try again.
"Hello?"
The screeching sounds suddenly cease and I am able to hear the speaker this time.
"Josh?"
"Yes, who is this?"
"Donna Moss. You know, your new assistant?"
"I know who you are, Donna. I just didn't recognize your voice. What can I do for you?"
"I know this is a lot to ask and that you barely know me and that you probably have many more important things to do…"
"Donna, just ask."
"Could you come and pick me up?"
Twenty minutes later I'm parked in front of a wrecking yard, helping Donna to load her two suitcases into the back of my rental car. A bitter wind is blowing and it's a great relief when we climb into the shelter and warmth of the car. We sit in silence for a few moments, absorbing the heat from the radiators before I break the silence.
"What the hell are you doing at a place like this?"
I gaze at Donna quizzically and she turns to me with a meek and apologetic face.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have phoned. I should have just called a cab. It's just, cabs cost money and, well, that would kind of defeat the purpose of coming here…"
"Donna."
"Yeah?"
"Do you ever answer a question directly?"
"Sure."
"Well, could you try answering this one? What the hell are you doing here?"
"Umm, you know how I said yesterday that I would sell my car so that I could pay my own way?"
"Yes. And just as a note, that wasn't a direct answer, that was answering a question with a question."
She gives me an almost smug grin and then continues with her explanation.
"I wasn't exaggerating. I just sold my car so that I could pay for my plane ticket."
"Donna, are you serious?"
"No, Josh, I just think it's hilariously funny to come down to a wrecking yard, have someone else take my car, and then call my new boss to ask for a ride."
"Sarcasm is disturbing coming from someone so young."
Donna rolls her eyes at me and then faces forward. I give her a sidelong glance, astounded that this woman would go to such lengths to keep a job that she isn't even being paid for. I then turn the key in the ignition and drive towards the airport. I have a feeling it's going to be an interesting flight.
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"Did you know that in 1893 Queen Isabella of Spain was the first woman to be put on an American commemorative coin?"
"No, Donna, I didn't know that but you've been inundating me with trivia since we got on the plane. Then you told me more when we got into the rental car. Do you think that maybe you could just take a break from practicing for Jeopardy?"
"Is that a polite way of asking me to shut up?"
"Yes."
I sigh with relief when Donna stops talking. She's a wonderful person, and I've found her tendency to spout trivia endearing, but there's only so much useless information one can listen to before he goes insane.
I continue to navigate towards the head campaign office for South Carolina. The car is silent for several minutes and then an odd rummaging sound comes from the passenger seat. I look at Donna out of the corner of my eye and see her digging in her purse.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm attempting to find my wallet."
"Shouldn't that be pretty easy to do?"
"Josh, you have no idea as to the sheer amount of stuff a woman keeps in her purse. If you did, you would now understand why I'm having issues finding my wallet. Ah-ha!"
"Did you really have to shout? We are in a small space."
"Sorry. Habit."
Silence reigns once more. I glance over quickly at Donna and then watch her from the corner of my eye. She opens her wallet and begins to count the money within. Then she recounts it. A look of intense thought crosses her face and then she shrugs. She quickly checks her change purse and seems to find no significant amount of money there because she sighs in a rather defeated manner.
"You ok?"
She looks at me, apparently startled from her contemplation. She gives me a bright smile that doesn't remove the worried look from her eyes.
"I'm fine."
I nod, unconvinced.
"So, are you going to turn left up ahead?"
"Why?"
"Well, considering all of the Bartlet for America signs covering that building, I would imagine it's the campaign office."
I realize that she's correct and switch on my turn signal. We pull into the lot in front of the building and get out of the car. Both of us stretch and once more enjoy the warmer weather common to South Carolina. I take a deep breath of the tangy air and then straightening my shoulders I prepare to head into the chaos of yet another campaign office.
I hold open the door for Donna to go in ahead of me and then stride into the building. I smile at the noise that washes over us and revel in the busyness resultant of the candidate coming to this office. Quickly surveying the layout, I turn right in the hopes of finding my office but I'm halted when Donna grips my arm.
"Donna, I've barely known you twenty-four hours. I usually tend to wait forty-eight before I allow someone to take advantage of my person."
She gives me a look and then points directly in front of her.
"Your office is over there."
Seeing my name taped to the window of yet another small office, barely larger than a cubicle, I head in that direction. Donna follows on my heels and we both survey the pristinely empty room. Turning to Donna, I see disappointment cross her face. I'm puzzled and then realize it's because she has nothing to do.
"Donna, why don't you try to commandeer a desk for yourself? Make sure it's close to my office. I don't want to have to go on a quest to find you every time I need you."
"Sure."
"I'm just going to go see if I can find Sam. By the time I'm back we'll have plenty to do. Trust me."
She smiles at me and then heads off on her latest assignment. I'm tempted to watch her duke it out for a desk but then decide against it. I really do have to talk to Sam.
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"Who's the blonde?"
"Have normal greetings disappeared from the English language? Is there something wrong with 'Hey, Josh. How was your flight?'"
"Hey, Josh. How was your flight? Who's the blonde?"
I roll my eyes at Sam's dogged persistence, shrug, and flop into the chair across from his desk inside his excuse of an office.
"My flight was fine. 'The blonde' as you insist on calling her is my new assistant, Donna Moss."
"You hired an assistant? How come you get an assistant and I don't?"
"Ok, first of all, you share an assistant with Toby whereas before Donna I didn't have one at all."
"Hey, you had several volunteers who tried. You just scared them off."
"I didn't scare them off."
Sam gives me a look.
"Ok, maybe I shouted at a few of them, but if that's all it takes to scare them off, they really shouldn't be working in politics."
"Right. But seriously, when did you have time to hire an assistant?"
"You want the truth?"
Sam nods.
"She hired herself. I went into my office yesterday and she was just there. And technically she's a volunteer."
"She just showed up in Manchester yesterday, flew to Charleston with you today, and she's not even being paid?"
"Un-huh."
"You think maybe she's unbalanced?"
"She's not crazy, Sam. She just has a huge amount of dedication and believes that if she works hard enough, I'll put her on salary. She's probably right about that, actually."
Sam stares at me for several long moments.
"Well, I'll take your word for it. I just have one last question and then you won't hear anything else from me about it. You didn't let her stay just because she's tall, blonde, and leggy, right?"
"Sam, I'm not stupid. That is definitely not why I let her stay. If you could have just heard her yesterday…"
"Ok, I trust you. Just make sure you get a hold of her FBI file. If she's going to start coming everywhere with you…"
"Yeah. I put in the request first thing this morning."
"Good."
We sit in silence for a few moments until a voice drifts in through the open door.
"Look, I'm glad you've worked for Bartlet's campaign for so long but I really need this desk. My boss's office is just over there and it would be a lot more convenient if I could be close to it."
An irate voice follows.
"Honey, I don't care who your boss is, this is my desk. It's been my desk since this office opened. It will continue to be my desk. I don't care who your boss is, bitch."
Donna's voice follows again at a reasonable and even tone.
"You don't have to start calling me names. Now, is it just the desk you object to me taking or is it the place where the desk is?"
A snide voice comes back.
"Which do you think?"
"Well, is there any way we could settle this?"
"You could go back to your trailer park up north and leave me alone, Yankee-bitch."
I get up and Sam follows suit. I'm about to intercede and tell this obnoxious woman that she can give up her desk entirely because we don't want people like her on our campaign. However, my intentions to protect Donna are halted when she speaks again.
"I did not grow up in a trailer park, I grew up in a condo outside of Madison, Wisconsin. But that's not really important. I think you should consider how the people who do live in trailer parks would feel. I have a feeling that the voting demographic that do would be unhappy with what you were just insinuating about them. You represent your candidate to everyone no matter where they live and you should treat every potential voter equally. That includes me. And can I just point out that the candidate you're supporting is a Yankee?"
The other woman looks chagrined after Donna's speech, which was delivered without raising her voice once. Suddenly, she spies Sam and I standing in the doorway of Sam's office. Her shoulders slump slightly.
"I'll clean out my stuff. The desk should be free for you by this afternoon."
"Thanks."
Donna lets out a deep breath and then turns to see Sam and I staring at her.
"Hey, Josh. I got a desk. Is this Sam?"
She strides forward and shakes Sam's hand.
Sam turns his head towards me and speaks in a low voice.
"I get what you meant before. She's amazing."
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I come in to the office early the next morning. The boxes Donna had sent by courier had been delayed by some snow in New Hampshire and were supposed to arrive this morning. I smile when I see the familiar cartons set in front of my office door.
I stop short, puzzled. I didn't close my office door last night. I shrug it off, thinking that maybe some staffer just shut the door when he left last night. I open the door a crack, pick up the boxes and then walk into my office. Where I nearly fall over.
I set the boxes down on a chair, close my office door behind me, and blink, making sure that I'm not hallucinating. When I re-open my eyes it becomes obvious that they weren't deceiving me. There is in fact a blonde woman sleeping on my floor. Her winter coat is bundled up under her head as a pillow and a small blanket is draped over her.
I kneel down beside Donna's sleeping form and shake her a little.
"Donna. Donna."
She stirs, stretches, and then turns over. Her eyes open and I gaze into her still tired face. She gives me a brief confused look, which quickly changes to embarrassment. She buries her face in her makeshift pillow and then peers back up at me. I speak first.
"You really weren't exaggerating."
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To be continued…