"Just think of it. This could be you."
"I don't know if I want it to be me."
"Come on, you were made for this."
"I'm not sure if now's the right time."
Governor Bob Foley hopped out of his seat on the couch with a start and immediately began pacing the room anxiously. Jed Bartlet sat watching him, back and forth, back and forth, until he began to feel a bit light-headed.
"Bob, sit down. You're making me dizzy."
Bob stopped all movement, but refused to be seated as Jed had requested of him.
"I don't understand you, Jed. I come to you, personally…"
"Well, technically I came to you."
"Yes, but at my request. I ask you personally to be my successor, to run for governor of the great state of New Hampshire. And you want to turn me down!" Bob asked, with more than a little incredulity.
"I didn't say that. I'm saying I can't give you a definite answer right now. I have a family, Bob. A life, away from here."
"New Hampshire is your home. You can't mean to tell me that Abbey and the girls are going to object to coming home."
"Well, the girls aren't going to be too keen on switching schools, especially since Liz is going to be a senior in September. But it's not even that. I'm just not sure this is the right time to take on such a demanding position. My mother's living with us, we've got two infants to take care of, three kids in school, and the fact that governing an entire state is a pretty demanding job. I don't know if I'm prepared to take on something like that," Jed explained.
"I'm two years older than you, so don't tell me you're too young"
"I didn't say that either."
"Then what, in the name of all that is holy, are you saying!" Bob demanded, in exhasperation.
"I'm saying I don't know yet. I'm saying I want to talk to my family first."
"Okay," Bob replied, with a nod. "Talk to your family."
Bob stood up, and gestured for Jed to follow him.
"I appreciate your patience, Bob."
"Yeah. Just don't test me for too long." He smirked.
"Yeah, yeah."
As they walked through the governor's mansion, it took both of them a full minute to realize the incliment weather raging outside. Bob stopped in front of a window before they reached the front door.
"Jesus."
Jed moved to stand beside him, both of them gazing outside in astonishment.
"Well, Jed, old buddy," Bob said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Looks like you'll be spending your first night at the governor's mansion. The first of what will hopefully be many."
Manchester, New Hampshire
"Catherine!"
John Bartlet gasped in astonishment when he opened his front door only to find his soon-to-be ex-wife standing before him. She smiled awkwardly and avoided his gaze.
"Hi."
"What are you doing here?" He asked, though he sounded genuinely thrilled to see her.
"Johnny stranded me here," Catherine replied. "Apparently, he's been watching a little too much of The Parent Trap with Jason."
"Well…come in, come in. I won't have you standing out there in this weather."
She stepped over the threshold a bit reluctantly and followed him into the house. It had been nearly three months since she had set foot in the house she had called home for decades. Nothing had changed. She doubted that even the dust had been moved around at all.
"I like what you've done with the place," Catherine said. "Or rather, what you haven't done with it."
John merely smiled in response, then sat down in his usual chair. She took it as an invitation to sit as well, and she took her place on the couch across from his intimidating personage.
"How are you?" He questioned.
"I'm…fine. How are you?"
"I'm all right. I thought you were in Washington with Jed."
"I was," Catherine answered, softly. "We're in the area for Christmas."
"Ah, right, of course."
"You should come to the farm, see the kids. You have a new grandchild, you know. And a great-grandchild."
"I know that," John said, defensively.
"There's going to be a christening for both Annie and Lane in Boston next week. You should come."
"The child's name is Lane?"
"Alexandra Lane, yes," Catherine responded.
"And Annie is Elizabeth's?"
"That's right."
"I see."
"Jed did phone you, didn't he?"
"Oh, yes," John replied, quickly. "He did. Forced by Abbey to do so, it was clear."
"Don't say that, John. Jed would never refuse to inform you of the births of your grandchild and great-grandchild." She chuckled to herself. "Though I'm sure he begged Abbey to do it for him."
"I'm glad you can have yourself a good laugh about it." Though, he managed to crack a smile himself.
"I'm sorry."
The conversation came to a standstill for a moment, as they both contemplated their next moves.
"For the record," John said, clearing his throat. "You look wonderful."
Catherine blushed.
"Thank you."
"Really, you look like a completely different person."
"I don't know whether to be insulted or flattered," Catherine quiped in return.
"That's not what I meant, I just…"
"I knew what you meant, John."
"Well, good." He paused for a moment. "You're happy living with Jed, aren't you?"
"Yes," Catherine replied, honestly. "I am. Never a dull moment, I assure you. Ellie's got her first crush, on a boy in her class. It's adorable!"
"Isn't she a little young for that?"
"She's twelve years old. Too young for a boyfriend, but old enough for a crush. Oh, and Zoey's an absolute trip. I'm telling you, a more amusing child you never will meet. The things that come out of that child's mouth."
"All in good taste, I presume," John said.
"Oh, yes. She's remarkable. Seven years old and brighter than most ten-year-olds. An insatiable appetite for knowledge, just like her sisters."
"And her father."
Catherine smiled.
"Yes. Zoey is very much like her father, though she's got Abbey's spirit. Fiery and wild, she is."
"How is Abbey?"
"Honestly? She seems to be a bit troubled lately. Can't put my finger on why. Snapping at everyone, Jed included. He's absolutely beside himself. I think because, for the first time in a long time, he can't figure out what she's thinking."
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that."
Catherine shrugged dismissively.
"They'll recover. They always do."
After nearly an hour of incessant cries, Abbey finally left the room. She was determined not to leave, now matter how loud or intense Lane's cries became. But after awhile, it was positively unnerving. She stood outside the door, leaning against the wall. She felt tears well up in her own eyes as her lips began to quiver and her hands started to tremble uncontrollably. She brought her hands up to her face and wiped away the few stray tears that had managed to escape from their origin. She covered her bottom lip with the top, pursing them tightly in an effort to calm the quavering. She took a deep, stabilizing breath, infusing herself with an artificial strength that she could only pray would at least last her until Jed returned home.
Although it caused her great pain and angst to do so, Abbey walked away from her daughter and descended the stairs, trying desperately to protect her crumbling wall of emotions. She had left the television on in the living room, and walked in just in time to see Diane Keaton discover, at long last, Warren Beatty in the train station in Russia. They spotted each other over a sea of heads, their eyes locked. As if a force of gravity pulled them together, they pushed through the crowd until they were face to face.
Abbey stood behind the couch, her eyes glued to the television that rested a few feet away from her. As Diane and Warren embraced on screen, Abbey demolished her wall of protection and allowed the tears she had been holding in so bravely to pour out copiously.
The startling ring of the telephone terrified Abbey at first. She ran to the nearest phone and picked it up frantically.
"Hello?" She said, the sound of her recent tears lacing her voice.
"Hey."
"Oh. Jed, hi."
"What's the matter?" He asked.
"Nothing. Why do you ask?"
"Your voice sounds a bit shaky."
"No, I'm fine. Where are you?"
"I'm still in Concord. The weather's fierce here, I don't think I'm going to make it back tonight," Jed announced.
Abbey felt her breath catch in her throat and her heart drop into her stomach as she struggled, once again, to combat the tears that threatened her. The only thing that had gotten her through the evening up until then was knowing that Jed would soon be home. Then, and only then, would Lane stop crying. But now…
"Oh," she managed to whisper.
"How's the weather there?"
"It's…you know."
"Bad?"
"Yes."
"Right. Well. How is everyone there?" Jed questioned.
"Nobody here," Abbey replied, simply. "Ellie and Zoey are at Michelle's, as planned, and Liz is going to stay at the Gardners' because of the weather."
"Where's Mom?"
"Oh, I don't know. I assume Johnny took her back to his place once the snow got heavier. She'll call soon, I'm sure."
"Yeah."
He heard her sigh deeply and sniffle just a little.
"You sure you're all right?"
"I'm fine, Jed," Abbey responded, tersely. "For the thousandth time."
"Well, you sound like you've been crying."
"I'm watching Reds on television. It's almost over."
Jed laughed quietly.
"You watch that movie every time it comes on, and you never fail to cry at the end."
Abbey shrugged helplessly.
"It's sad!"
"It's only sad for you because Warren Beatty dies and it's pretty hard for you to lust after a dead man."
"Oh, shut up," Abbey said, rolling her eyes.
"Don't roll your eyes at me, Abigail."
"How do you know I did?"
"Because I know you," Jed replied.
When she didn't respond, he said, "Well. I should get back to being the perfect houseguest. This is the governor's mansion you know."
"Okay," she said, her voice returning to its original whisper.
"I'll be home first thing in the morning, God willing."
"Yeah."
"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Mmm-hmm," Abbey replied, faintly. "Tomorrow."
"I love you," Jed stated, tentatively.
Truthfully, the main purpose of his calling, besides to tell her of his whereabouts, was to find out how she would respond to that particular statement. Things had been shaky and uncertain between them for the past few days, and honestly, he had no idea where he stood. It wasn't that he doubted her love neccesarily, but he did doubt whether she would take this opportunity to profess it to him openly.
"I love you too."
He breathed a sigh of unmitigated relief and smiled gratefully, knowing full well that she could not see him.
"Bye, honey."
"Bye."
Abbey placed the phone onto the receiver and stared at it for a moment, silently. Then, her ears focused yet again on the sound of Lane's ceaseless tears. She looked over at the television and watched as Diane Keaton draped herself over Warren Beatty's lifeless body in despair. With one hand on the couch, she lowered herself onto the ground in one fluid motion, dropped her head into her heads, and made no effort to prevent her tears.
