Manchester, New Hampshire
"Of course you can stay with us, Ellie," Elizabeth Bartlet-Westin insisted, trying to unravel the phone cord that had managed to snake around her body. "You can stay as long as you like. Doesn't matter. You can come today for all I care. Hold on a second."
She covered the receiver with her palm and turned her attention to her unruly five-year-old, who had decided that the best way to tick his mother off today was to serenade her with the melodious music of pots and pans.
"Gus!" Liz hissed at him. "Cut it out. I'm on the phone!"
Gus dropped the pans onto the floor and gazed up at her innocently. She shook her head and turned the other way.
"Sorry, El. Yeah, apparently today is Drive Your Mother Crazy Day. No, it's not too much trouble. I told you, we're happy to have you."
"Mom!" Annie shouted upon her entrance into the kitchen.
"I'm on the phone!"
"Oh, with who?"
"Aunt Ellie," Liz replied.
"Tell her I said hi, then get off the phone."
"No!"
"Mom!" Annie whined. "It's important."
At that moment, Gus deemed it a most opportune time to continue his concert.
"Stop it, Gus! You're so retarded," Annie said.
"Annie, do not call your brother retarded," Liz ordered. "And Gus, you need to stop right now or you're headed for time out."
Annie stuck out her tongue at him, which prompted Gus to throw the pans down and charge toward her. Annie let out a shriek and ran out of the room, and he was intent on following her.
"Hey!" Liz shouted. "Ellie, I'm gonna have to call you back. Yeah, just come whenever you want. Okay. Bye."
The moment Liz replaced the phone on the cradle, the shrill ringing sound pierced the air once more.
"Damnit!" She muttered, grabbing the phone once more. "Hello? Oh, hi, Hal. Yes, thank you for getting back to me so quickly. I want to discuss the possibility of you helping out on the financial committee for Doug's campaign. Right. However, this really is just the worst possible time. Let's plan on getting in touch at some point tomorrow. Thanks so much for understanding. Okay. Goodbye."
She slammed the phone down again and ran out of the kitchen in a hurry. By that time, both Annie and Gus had disappeared upstairs. Liz collapsed on the couch in the living room and dropped her head into her hands, sighing deeply. She glanced up when she heard keys turning in the front door, and she smiled vaguely when her husband entered the household.
"Hey," Doug said, pleasantly.
"Hey."
"What's up?"
"Gus chased Annie up the stairs and now the house is filled with a deafening silence. What do you think that means?"
He laughed and sat beside her on the couch.
"I just heard from Hal Collins," Liz announced.
"Yeah? Did you get him?"
"I don't know. He seemed interested, but I had to run after the kids so I didn't get a chance to seal the deal."
"Have you talked to your father yet?" Doug questioned.
"No, I already told you. If you're going to be a politician, you have to develop your own networking skills. I've got Hal Collins."
"And I've got the White House."
"That's right," Liz replied. "Why don't you talk to him when we go to Washington in a couple weeks?"
"Yeah. I think maybe I'll hit up Josh first."
"Fine. Doug?"
"Hmm?" Doug murmured, distracted.
"We need some help around here."
"What?"
"We can't work on this campaign and harness the kids 24/7. I can't. I just need a little assistance," Liz admitted.
"What, like a maid?"
"No, like a nanny. Jeannie Brewster recommended someone."
"Who?" Doug asked.
"Uh…I believe her name was Johanna Gustav."
"Johanna Gustav?"
"She's Swedish."
Washington, D.C.
"A bit desperate, Jed? Shutting down the government just to get me back here."
He looked up at the sound of her voice, and found himself nearly paralyzed by the mere sight of her. While he had heard via his secret service spies that she'd arrived, nothing could have prepared him for this moment.
Nothing could have prepared him to see her in the Residence again, for the first time in nearly six months. He had almost forgotten what it was like to have her around. It was then that he realized exactly how much he had missed her. But, if she was going to be wry and nonchalant, two could play that game.
"Apparently it worked."
She sauntered past him, dipping a finger into the jar of peanut butter on the counter, and continuing towards the refrigerator.
"Peanut butter and jelly. That's what you're having for dinner?"
He shrugged.
"The mess is closed. When this is gone, I'm gonna have to start in on the grandkids' elbow macaroni."
"You sound stuffy," Abbey commented.
"Yeah, there's something going around," Jed replied. "They said your motorcade arrived an hour ago. Where've you been?"
He wasn't sure if he wanted to know.
"Downstairs, in your War Room."
"Oh?"
"Which, I noticed, you were not in."
"Haffley reneged on the deal."
What a familiar scenario, she thought. With that thought and her yogurt, she sat down at the table, gazing up at him complacently.
"So now you're just sitting up here, waiting for what exactly?"
He answered her question with a telling silence he knew she would be able to decipher.
"Your staff wants to bring you an offer," Abbey stated.
He glanced up hopefully.
"Haffley came to us with a deal?"
She equaled his previous telling silence with her own.
"Damnit, I told Leo no!" Jed shouted. "Did he go ahead and contact the leadership?"
"Don't be so melodramatic," she replied, calmly. "They don't understand what you want them to do. Do you know what you want them to do?"
He took the sandwich he had prepared himself and joined her at the table.
"Staying through the holidays?" He questioned, nervously.
"Depends on how long it takes your damn government to get back up and running."
The silence that ensued as they ate was one filled with innumerable emotions. Hesitation, anxiety, confusion, obstinacy, curiosity, and tension. Neither of them knew quite how to break the silence without breaking their own fragile relationship.
"I see you redecorated the dining room," Abbey said.
"Not me," Jed answered. "Millie came in and did some renovating"
"She didn't tell me that."
"Payback for you not exactly keeping her in the loop, I assume."
Abbey nodded, then rose from her seat in search of bottled water from the refridgerator. After grabbing a bottle of Dasani, she closed the refridgerator door, her eyes falling upon a post-it stuck to the surface.
"What's this?"
Jed glanced over at the post-it, then turned back to his sandwich immediately.
"It's a number."
"Yes, I see that," Abbey said. "Who's Dr. Adams?"
"My psychiatrist," Jed muttered.
"Who?"
"My psychiatrist."
"Ah," Abbey breathed. "I see. I saw one too for awhile, you know."
"Yeah."
She took her water and returned to her seat at the table, studying him as his eyes conspicuously avoided hers.
"Has it done you any good?"
"Yeah," Jed replied, tersely.
Frustrated by his indifference toward her, Abbey dropped her spoon forcefully on the table.
"Why won't you talk to me!"
Jed looked up, his eyes finally making contact with the burning fire in hers.
"Because I'm afraid that if by chance I should say the wrong thing, you'll take off running again!" He shouted back.
She closed her eyes at the memory, allowing the images to float over her. He observed her changing expressions carefully as she reacted to said images.
"I'm sorry," Abbey whispered finally. "But it was too much"
"Being around your husband of thirty-eight years was too much. Well, that seems to have been the theme around her for the last six months, hasn't it?"
"It wouldn't have worked, Jed. If I had stayed that night in the park, we would have rushed into things and…"
"Rush into what? We're already married!"
"Rush into…forgiveness! Rush into acceptance. We weren't ready then, and we're not ready now."
"When, Abbey?" Jed questioned fervently. "Since you seem to have a sixth sense about these things. When are you, excuse me, I mean we, going to be ready?"
"I don't know," she said, softly.
"Do you even want to be ready?"
"You think I like this, Jed?"
"You started it," he retorted.
"Doesn't mean I enjoyed it."
"Then why'd you do it, Abbey!"
"Because I didn't know what else to do!" She blurted out before she had a chance to modify it. "I was hurt, I was scared, I felt betrayed. I couldn't let it go. I know I didn't make the right decision, but going back to you was not an option at that point."
"Fine. What I don't understand is why you had to take up with another man!" Jed exclaimed.
"Leave Tony out of this."
"How the hell can I leave him out of this? He's the problem!"
"I'm the problem!"
"Yeah, well, if it hadn't been for him, the problem would have been a lot easier to solve."
"Maybe," Abbey conceded.
"So, tell me all about Life with Tony."
"Jed."
"No, really. I want to know. He's been living in my house the past few months. Does he at least pick up after himself? Does he make the bed after the two of you screw in it?"
"Jed, don't do this to yourself," she begged him.
"How is he? Is he good?"
"Oh, for God's sake."
"Better than I am?"
She threw her hands up in the air helplessly.
"I'm not doing this with you."
"Pretend I'm one of your girlfriends," Jed said.
"Why are you doing this?" Abbey asked, in a broken whisper.
"Because I'd like to know about the man who's been schtupping my wife for the past four months!"
"All right. You really want to know?" Abbey responded angrily, lifting a challenging eyebrow at him.
"Go for it!" He shouted back.
"He's unbelievable! A god under the sheets!"
Jed's fingers curled into a fist, his nails grinding into his palm, and his face grew redder with each words out of her mouth.
"Oh, yeah!"
"Yeah!" She shouted back. "At least, that's what I hear. I suppose his sexual prowess could be a rumor, as I haven't actually experienced it myself."
His hands relaxed slightly and his faced slowly began to return to its usual color.
"What?"
"Jed," she sighed, shaking her head in disbelief at him. "Tony and I haven't had sex."
"You haven't?"
"No!"
"But he's been living with you for…" He trailed off.
"Yeah, in the guest room!"
"Oh."
"You feel like a real jackass now, huh?"
"Little bit," Jed replied, avoiding her gaze just as he had done earlier.
"It's been awhile since you've shown your jealous side."
"To you maybe. I've been showing it to Leo for months."
Abbey smirked.
"Poor guy."
"Yeah, he's been busy schtupping Millie while I've been secluded up here flipping through old photo albums."
"What is it with you and the word schtupping? I leave for a few months and I come back to see you've acquired an entirely new, though hardly improved, vocabulary."
He shrugged dismissively.
"Picked it up from one of the kids."
"Not our kids, I presume."
"Nah. I've heard CJ use it a couple of times."
"How ladylike of her," Abbey commented.
"Yeah." He smiled apprehensively at her. "Listen, I…"
"Abigail?"
Eyes wide and surprised, they both raised their heads to the doorway, where a certain Sir Anthony Prescott had chosen to make his presence known.
