Chapter Seven

Westford, Massachusetts

"It's MY dollhouse, Zoey!" Stephanie Brady pointed out, possessively.

Zoey Bartlet sat on the floor beside the oversize dollhouse and shot her cousin an evil glare.

"So?"

"So, I get to decide who I want to be! I want to be the Mom!"

"I want to be the Mom!" Zoey argued. "I don't want to be the Dad."

"Why not? The Dad's cool!"

"Please, Stephy! You can play with the Mom all the time, 'cause it's yours. Just let me play her this one time."

"Why do you wanna be the Mom so bad?" Stephanie questioned.

"Cause she's the Mom! I wanna pretend she's my mom."

Stephanie sat down beside her and folded her arms across her chest.

"I don't get it. Why do you wanna do that?"

"My mom doesn't play with me anymore," Zoey admitted, pouting.

"Why not?" Stephanie questioned, thoroughly confused. "My mom plays with me."

"She's always crying. I think because the baby's always crying. The baby stops crying when Daddy holds her, but not when Mommy does. So Mommy runs away and stays in her room. She doesn't talk to Daddy, she doesn't talk to Grandma, she doesn't talk to Lizzie, she doesn't talk to Ellie, and she doesn't talk to me!"

"But that's silly."

"Yeah. But I miss her," Zoey said, tearfully.

"Why don't you talk to her?"

"She's never around to talk to. Grandma says she's 'going through a tough time.' I don't know what that means. Do you?"

"No, but I can ask my mom. She might know," Stephanie suggested.

"You think?"

"Yeah! My mom and your mom are sisters, I'm sure they talk and stuff. Let's go get Ellie and Tallulah."

In the kitchen, Michelle Bennett-Brady was finishing up the dishes from dinner, balancing the phone between her ear and her shoulder.

"No, they're fine, Abbey," Michelle said. "Steph and Zoey are off playing in the other room, and Ellie and Tallu are watching tv. Full House, I think."

"They're not giving you any trouble?" Abbey asked.

"Are you kidding me? Your kids!"

"Zoey's been known to raise a ruckus or two in her time."

"No, they've been perfect. Zoey and Stephanie were having a tiff a few minutes ago about the dollhouse, or something like that, but things seem to have quieted down."

"Okay, good."

"Hey, is it snowing there?" Michelle questioned.

"Heavily."

"Here too. I might have to bring the girls home tomorrow night, as opposed to tomorrow morning. I want to wait until they plow and salt the roads."

"That's fine," Abbey said, placidly.

Michelle glanced over at the doorway to find her two daughters, along with two of her nieces, waiting patiently to have her attention.

"Hey, I'm being ambushed by the munchkin squad," Michelle said. "I'll call you back."

She hung up the phone, dried off her hands with a dish towel, and walked over to stand in front of them.

"Yes, children? Is there something you'd like to say to me?"

"Zoey does," Stephanie said, pushing her cousin forward.

"Ummm…" Zoey trailed off.

"What is it, hon?" Michelle asked.

"Do you know what's wrong with my mom?" Zoey asked, timidly.

"What do you mean?"

"She's always crying," Ellie said. "And she doesn't talk to anyone, not even Dad. It's weird."

"I was just on the phone with her. She sounded fine to me."

"She's not."

"Oh. Well, I don't know what to tell you, girls. She hasn't mentioned anything to me, and we talk all the time."

"It's really bad, Aunt Michelle," Ellie said.

"I'll tell you what," Michelle began. "When I bring you back to the farm tomorrow, I'll talk to your mom about it. All right?"

They all nodded enthusiastically.

"Good. Now go let me finish these dishes and maybe I'll make you all some hot chocolate. How's that?"

Manchester, New Hampshire

"Turn the car around, Johnny," Catherine Bartlet ordered.

"No dice, Mom."

"What is this, the Parent Trap? Turn the car around!"

Johnny shook his head and continued driving in the same direction. Catherine's eyes widened in fear as the car pulled up the driveway of the house she had lived in for forty-five years. Her hands began to shake and her lips began to tremble in fear. Noticing this, Johnny placed a comforting hand over hers and smiled warmly.

"It's going to be okay, Mom."

"Why are you doing this?" Catherine asked.

"You can't avoid him forever. Eventually you'll start seeing him at family functions and such, and you don't want things to be awkward between the two of you."

"Things were always awkward between us, Jonathan! From the day we got married until the day I left him, things were awkward!"

"Well, now you can be friends and put all of that behind you."

Catherine shook her head disdainfully.

"You are your father's son, Johnny. In name and in evil, scheming tactics!"

Johnny laughed and brought the car to a halting stop in front of the house. Catherine looked up at the ominous-looking house nervously.

"Go on. Get out of the car, Mom," Johnny said.

"Is he expecting me?"

"He's looking forward to it actually."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. Now get out."

Catherine reluctantly opened the car door and carefully stepped out of the vehicle. She looked back at Johnny, who was still seated in the car.

"Johnny? Aren't you coming?"

"Nope!" He called out the window. "Snow's getting pretty bad. I should get be getting back to the wife and kid. Have a great night!"

Catherine watched with her jaw practically touching the ground as her youngest son backed out of the driveway and left her all alone to witness the Fall of the House of Bartlet.

The curtains were drawn and the lava lamp turned on in Amy Gardner's bedroom at her parent's house. Posters of Bob Dylan, Peter Gabriel, John Lennon, Van Morrison, and Bono adorned the green walls, watching over the room's three current occupants as U2's latest record played in the background. Amy sat on the blue-carpeted floor, holding her goddaughter, a Miss Anne Rosalynn Bartlet. Elizabeth Bartlet was sprawled out on the bed watching them carefully.

"She is the most precious thing I have ever seen!" Amy declared. "Aren't you, Annie? Yes, you are!"

Liz grinned, propping her elbows on the bed and dropped her hand into her hands.

"And she looks just like you, Liz. Really. Spitting image. There's not an ounce of Ben Silverman in her!"

"She wasn't divinely conceived, Amy. There's a little Ben in her, somewhere," Liz replied.

"Oh well. Your genes clearly dominate his."

Liz crawled off the bed and hopped onto the floor to sit besisde Amy.

"How's Brown?" Liz asked.

"It's…Brown. I mean, it's great. It's just hard."

"That's what you get for going to an Ivy League school."

"Yeah, I know. I can't complain," Amy replied. "There's just been so much drama at the dorm. I swear to God, freshmen don't know how to handle themselves in public."

"From a fellow freshman? That's convincing."

"I'm serious! It's like being back in a junior high. You'd think that being at a Ivy League school there'd be less drinking and partying, but you'd be wrong. The cops show up at my dorm every night."

"Oh, like you're little Miss Innocent. You're probably out partying with them," Liz retorted.

"Okay, maybe now and then. But I haven't been arrested yet and let me tell you, that is a huge accomplishment."

Liz laughed.

"I'll bet."

"So how is everyone? How's Lane?" Amy questioned, bouncing Annie lightly on her knee.

"Lane…cries."

"What?"

"I don't know how else to describe her," Liz said.

"She cries all the time?"

"Well, not so much all the time but…when Mom's around."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think it's making her a little crazy. She's been lashing out at everyone, especially my dad."

"I don't blame her," Amy answered. "It would make me crazy too if my own daughter couldn't stand to be around me."

"I know, and I understand why she's upset. I just don't know what to do about it."

"I don't think there's anything you can do. Just wait for things to work themselves out."

"That's a cop-out," Liz said.

"Got a better idea?"

"No."

"All right then."

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. They turned their heads as Evelyn Gardner popped her head in.

"What's up, Mom?" Amy asked.

"Look out the window," Evelyn said, walking across the room to pull back the curtains.

Amy and Liz stood up and approached the window, staring outside with astonishment. They had both been aware that it had been snowing pretty heavily earlier, but nothing could have prepared them for what looked like two whole feet of snow piled up on the ground. The snowflakes were falling even heavier now, and showed no sign of stopping.

"Well, how do ya like that?" Adam Gardner said, announcing his strong presence in the room.

He walked over to stood beside his wife, straining his neck over the two girls to look out the window. Amelia Gardner, the true child of Adam and Eve, looked up at her parents nervously.

"How's Liz gonna get home?"

Adam and Eve exchanged wary glances, then turned back to Amy and Liz.
"Looks like you'll be spending the night, Lizziekins," Adam said, with a wink and a pat on the shoulder.

"Do you have everything you need for Annie?" Eve questioned.

"Uh…yeah, I think she'll be all right."

"What's the matter, Liz?" Amy inquired, clearly concerned.

"Do you think it's snowing this bad in Concord?"

"I can't say for sure, but I would imagine so," Adam said. "Why?"

"My dad's in Concord, with Governor Foley. My grandmother's out with my uncle, probably at his house. Zoey and Ellie are at my aunt's house. And…my mom's at the farm alone."

Evelyn laughed.

"Liz, honey, your mother's a grown woman, I think she'll be all right. Unless she's afraid of the dark, because the power's bound to go out."

Adam put an arm around his wife's shoulder and joined her in her laughter.

"I've never known Abbey Bartlet to be afraid of anything!"

"You don't understand," Liz said. "She's alone with my sister, with Lane. This night's going to be a disaster for her."