Part Six

Abbey sprawled out on the couch and rested her head on her husband's lap. He stroked her hair gently with one hand and held his half full glass of scotch in the other. It was a wonder their children had not come looking for them yet. He was willing to bet they had more an inkling of what was going on and opted not to disturb their reminiscing. In addition, he imagined they were likely engaging in some nostalgia of their own up in the Residence.

"Jed," Abbey whispered.

She turned onto her back to look up at him directly.

"Hmm?"

"If you had to estimate, would you say the last eight years have been filled with more good times than bad times?"

That was an answer he did not feel qualified to give. There was a distinct possibility that his response would drastically differ from hers. That was not a risk he was willing to take.

"I don't know," Jed answered, quietly. "What do you think?"

"I don't know," she agreed. "There have certainly been some bad times."

"And some good."

"Yes. But what will we remember five years from now?"

March, 2000

Jed's POV You know, I abhor pop music. In fact, I hate most of the stuff made after the year Abbey was born. It's like she came into the world and stole every ounce of creativity and inspiration for herself. And it shows. It's in the rich auburn of her hair and the dazzling whirlpool of her eyes. It lives in her smile, sultry and sly alike. But most often, I see it when she wields her power over me.
Like in the Oval tonight. I know she was right in some ways, she always is, but I needed her to realize that we can't be apart here. This place, grand though it is, can tear us apart if we let it. This is the first step: talking to each other from opposite sides of a television camera. We can't do this. We have to look at each other. We need to be the only people in this marriage. CJ was a mistake; so was the kid.
And I wasn't talking out of my ass when I said I'd go to the Hill. I will and if that means putting it in session first, so be it! I will not lose her, not over this. Not over a damned interview, even one for a good cause. I want her to have her opinions and to speak her mind -- I love her best when she does -- but there are things she can't say now. There's a time and place for everything. This morning in the Mural Room was neither.
However -- and this is big -- I was wrong to sic CJ on her and in turn, Sam. It wasn't fair of me to send in the dogs when all I had to do was say I disagreed. Yes, it may have caused a fight. God knows I hate confrontations, especially with Abbey, but this was a fight that needed to be had. And we had it. It's over now. It won't be the last in the next three years, but I pray it's the worst. We're strongest when we're on the same side.
We're at our best in love.
So, I turn up this new song I heard and pour my wife a glass of champagne. She doesn't know what I'm up to, but she'll get the idea. I sit down beside her on the love seat and take one of her hands. She narrows her eyes in confusion as some song I doubt she's heard plays and it isn't our usual fare. Rock, pop, whatever the hell it is, the chorus speaks to me. And as the speakers draw it out, the lyrics call to her.
I stroke her hand that holds this ring I placed there before God and family -- not all of whom agreed --and I say, "I would've gone to Congress"
She touches my chest just where my heart beats and she looks through me again with those eyes. "I know."

"We always seem to come out of it alive though."

Jed nodded.

"What choice to do we have?"

She leaned up and kissed him softly.

"None."

February, 2001

It was almost noon when Ellie finally tracked down her father long enough to say goodbye. Charlie was rushing him through the halls, insisting they were late for an important meeting- she didn't catch what for. He had kissed her on the cheek, touched her shoulder lightly, then brushed past her. And he wondered why she was so insecure about their unstable relationship. She had followed him to a location in the West Wing she wasn't exceedingly familiar with and as a result, she stood silently, her eyes darting around looking for any sign that was recognizable to her. Luckily, CJ came to her rescue and escorted her safely out of the building.

A few hours later, the President managed to scrounge up a little spare time and used it to pay his wife a visit. She had returned from Atlanta late that morning and he hadn't had a chance to see her yet. When he reached the Residence, he found her seated at the dining room table surrounded by files and documents. Without acknowledging his presence, she pushed her glasses down onto the bridge of her nose and peered at one of the papers in front of her. Seconds later, she was shuffling the documents around, engaging in a desperate scavenger hunt for some elusive piece of paper.

"Welcome back."

She pushed her glasses back up and turned her head in surprise. A forced smile played daintily upon her lips as she regarded him and then returned her attentions to the aforementioned files.

"Hey."

"How was the trip?"

"It was good," Abbey replied, nonchalantly. "Japan?"

"Good. Listen, I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to call you yesterday. The thing with Ellie and Millie…"

"Yeah. It's fine."

He buried his hands in his pockets and moved closer to where she sat.

"You got a chance to see Ellie before she left?"

"Yeah." Behind her glasses, he could distinguish her raised eyebrow. "Did you?"

"Briefly," Jed answered, honestly. "I assume she told you about…"

"Yeah. Told me everything. Got a phone call from Millie as well."

He sat down in the chair beside her.

"And?"

"And what, Jed? What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know, Abbey, but you always think of something."

Abbey shrugged dismissively.

"You dropped the ball on this one, Jed. Thankfully, you picked it back up at the end but…"

"How was I supposed to react, oh Mother of the Year?"

Her icy stare sent his indignation retreating back into a secluded area inside him that no one could touch.

"You better thank your lucky stars I'm opting to disregard that little remark in the interest of focusing on a more related topic."

Jed groaned and leaned back in his chair.

"You had no right to talk to her the way you did. You know it too. You don't fly off the handle and shout at your 24-year-old daughter. Especially not without listening to her side of the story first. For you to directly come out and accuse her of acting with the sole intent of making you unhappy…that was an unbelievably stupid and unnecessarily cruel move. No, Ellie should not have called up Danny like that. She made a mistake. If you thought that treating her the way you did was going to improve your already shaky relationship then you're crazy. Really, I just…I don't know what got into you, Jed. But this isn't the first time you've been out of line in your reaction to something like that."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Ron Erlich."

"And your 'preference' for him," Jed concluded disdainfully.

"That's right." Her eyes softened suddenly and she gazed at him with a barely detectable glimmer of sympathy. "I want you to think about something. What if Zoey had called Danny? What if Liz had called him?"

"What if?"

"Would your reaction have been the same?" Abbey questioned.

Jed frowned, genuinely offended by the question she had posed.

"Abbey, you of all people…"

"I am not accusing you loving one of your daughters less than the other two, or whatever it was you told Millie. I'm asking you if your reaction would have been the same."

He hesitated for a moment, allowing the fake scenarios to play out in his head.

"No," Jed answered, quietly, as if the realization astonished him. "Probably not."

"All right then. Sometimes you let your insecurities about your relationship cloud your judgment. And I don't want to bring up the high ground, but…" She paused. "You know what she asked me this morning? She said, 'Do you think Dad has changed since becoming President?'"

Jed bowed his head pensively, then looked up at her vulnerably.

"What did you tell her?"

"I said, 'His job has, but his love for you hasn't.'"

He smiled gratefully and covered her hand with his. He smiled faded, however, when she didn't reciprocate. She continued to regard him sympathetically, but she offered him no endearing smile to reassure him.

"She said, 'I know, that's the problem.'"

Jed withdrew his hand and dropped it into his lap.

"You're just gonna have to try harder, that's all," Abbey said. "I have faith in your love for her. I believe in your willingness to sacrifice your happiness for hers. I have no doubt that she is one of four reasons you wake up in the morning. All you have to do is make her see what I see. Once you've done that, everything will fall into place."

"Everything did fall into place," Jed noted, with not a small mixture of pride and amazement.

"Yes, it did," Abbey agreed. "There are only a few pieces left to the puzzle. Leo Josiah Faison is one of them."