Part 5: The Deal
Washington, D.C.
"I feel like all of this goes back to The Deal," Jed says to his psychiatrist.
"What's the deal?" Dr. Adams questions.
"The Deal. After we won the New Hampshire primary, before the first election. We were in South Carolina, because the primary was basically a shoo-in for us. Anyway, Abbey and I made a deal regarding my MS. When I ran for a second term, I broke it. God, she was so angry at me. Not that I blame her"
"Tell me about the deal"
"It's a long story"
"I've got time"
February, 1998- Charleston, South Carolina He had left the party a few minutes earlier, and they all pretended not to notice. But she could only pretend for so long before she left in search of him. She found him in the next room, appearing small and helpless in an overstuffed armchair. The room was poorly lit, but she required no illumination to discern his lonely, melancholy figure. In the doorway, she stood tall and majestic, a far cry from her usual short yet strangely intimidating. She observed him circumspectly, stopping occasionally to lightly snap her left wrist, causing the red wine in the glass she so firmly gripped to jump a bit.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was well aware of her strong presence in the room, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Remaining steadfast in the arched doorway, she lifted her glass and pressed it to her lips, allowing an abundant few ounces of wine to pass through, into her mouth and beyond. She then tapped the nail of her right pointer finger against the glass, as she always did, creating a quick, high-pitched noise that at least garnered his coveted attention, though it proved to be fleeting. He glanced up, acknowledging her, and then his gaze fell back down, validating her.
"You should come back in"
The meaning of her words, at first, escaped him. It was as if she were communicating in a language foreign to him. When she spoke again, he understood.
"And have some more wine"
She shrugged her shoulders then, ever so slightly, as a soft, cynical laugh escaped her lips.
"Might lift your spirits a bit"
He granted her a half smile, dutifully rather than genuinely.
"Which, by the way, are uncharacteristically, and undeservedly I might add, on the low side"
With those words came the much-anticipated movement, as she sauntered, tantalizingly slowly, toward him in the way that only she could.
"For a man who has just accomplished an incredible feat, you are awfully dreary, Governor Bartlet. Or shall I say…President Bartlet"
He winced out of pain or fear, or likely both. The agony his eyes conveyed made her draw back suddenly. She studied him for a moment, her eyes searching his for the response to her unvoiced, but mutually understood, concern.
"What is it"
Her voice was laced with a suppressed panic, her eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed. His sigh that followed was so tormented that her breath caught in her throat.
"I don't think I can do this, Abbey"
She was rendered speechless by the sheer amount of pity and self-doubt it must have taken for his conscience to instruct his mouth to say such a thing. She breathed an uneasy sigh, yet smiled confidently, mustering up all the spousal reassurance she had in her.
"Well. I don't know what you're talking about, but whatever it is, I know that you damn well can do it"
He shook his head and turned his eyes, though not his attention, away from her.
"I'm just an economist"
Raising a challenging eyebrow, she replied, "Among other things"
With that said, she shifted her body to the side and lowered herself down onto his lap. He turned his head to face her and, for the first time since she had entered the room, looked her straight in the eyes. She curled her legs up and pressed her body into his, infusing her faith and love into him by the warm sensation of her touch.
"You, my dear, are governor of New Hampshire, a three-term Congressman, beloved economics professor, Nobel Prize-winning economist, father of three beautiful, intelligent daughters, and loving husband to one Dr. Abigail Bartlet, your fantastic and wonderful wife of thirty years, who just happens to be sitting right here on your lap. And I am wholeheartedly convinced that there is nothing in this great, big, confusing world that you cannot do"
She kissed him fervently on the cheek, then dropped a few quick butterfly kisses along his jaw before removing her lips altogether.
"You just blew John Hoynes right out of the water, so what the hell are you doing in here"
"I don't know," he replied, vaguely, staring off ahead of him.
"Jed," Abbey said, her voice shaky and nervous.
"What?" He asked, now concerned by the tone of his wife's voice.
"You're doing that thing"
Her eyes were fixated on her right thigh, which was almost completely bare now that she had sat down and her skirt had inched up.
"What thing"
"The thing you do when you're scared and need to calm down"
His eyes wandered down to the place her gaze was locked upon. He noticed his hand was resting on her upper thigh, his fingers gently moving in a circular pattern on her skin. He had no recollection of putting his hand there at all, but he brushed that fact aside.
"Are you saying that I have to rub your thigh with my hand in order to calm myself down"
The lightness in his voice allowed her to relax a little.
"Well, I'm sure you don't have to, but you certainly do," she replied.
"You realize how ridiculous that is, right? If I wanted to calm myself down, I'd go have a cigarette. Putting my hand on your thigh would only get my blood flowing even more and make me want to have my way with you"
"Your hand's there now. Do you want to have your way with me here in this chair at this exact moment"
"Well. Maybe not at this exact moment, but in the near future"
"Jed"
"Abbey"
"You still haven't moved your hand. What are you afraid of?" She asked, with genuine curiosity.
"I'm not afraid of anything. This theory is yours is….you know. It's…dumb! Yeah. When have I ever done this before"
"Lots of times"
"Give me an example"
"Too many times to count"
"Yeah, well, what if I'm scared and need to calm myself down while we're at a party on opposite sides of the room, and I'm talking to someone? What then"
"That's easy," she answered, coolly. "You did it last week at Governor Foley's party. You were talking with Governor Foley, as you had been all evening, and I was across the room. You made some excuse to leave him, then you walked over to me and pushed me into a corner. You wrapped your left arm around my waist and then let your right hand drift down to my thigh. And nobody thought anything of it because you made it look like you were telling me something important, something governorly"
"First of all, governorly is not a word. Second of all, I did not"
"Yes, you did"
"Well, did you ever think that maybe I was trying to turn you on, and when I didn't get the response I'd hoped for, I gave up"
"No," Abbey said, simply.
"And why not"
"Because, honey, if you always tried to turn me on that way, you'd never get laid"
He dropped his haw, feigning astonishment.
"I resent that"
"As well you should"
"You've wounded me, Abigail," he said, placing one hand over his heart.
She smiled faintly, and snuggled up closer to him, tucking her head under his chin. He tightened one arm around her torso, and kept the other hand, involuntarily of course, in its original position on her thigh.
"At least now you're talking like you're again," she said. "And not Mr. 'woe is me, I can't do this, I'm just an economist"
"Hey, quiet. That guy is real. He'll hear you"
"Then tell me why that guy is so scared"
"He's nervous about the future"
"Yeah, I hear he's gonna be the Democratic nominee for President of the United States"
"That's what they keep telling him"
She nodded, playing along with his game.
"How does he feel about that"
"He's a little nervous. You know how it is"
"Right, sure"
"But mostly he's confident"
"He is"
"No. He just pretends he is. But his wife figured him out, like she always does," he replied.
"His wife's a smart cookie, huh"
"Eh, I don't know about that. She does have a medical degree from Harvard, but that doesn't really mean anything. He never saw her study while she was in med school"
"I suppose she just guessed her way through the MCATS then"
"Yep"
"Why's he nervous about being President?" Abbey questioned.
"Plenty of reasons. Running the country's a tough job. Also, he's feeling guilty"
"Why's that"
"Well, don't tell anyone, but he's got Multiple Sclerosis. Nobody knows but his immediate family, and he hasn't told the public"
"Does he think he should tell them"
Jed shrugged.
"He wants to be President"
"Even though he's so nervous"
"Yeah"
"I see. Would you tell him something for me"
"Sure"
"Tell him he has his wife's support, no matter what he decides"
"I will. I know he'll appreciate that. He loves his wife a great deal. Sometimes, he thinks, more than he loves himself"
"Only sometimes"
"By sometimes, he meant always," Jed said.
"That's what I thought he meant"
"He wonders now and then if she loves him as much as he loves her"
"Oh, well I spoke with her the other day, and I can assure you…she does. She absolutely does"
His grin was boyish, but his gratitude was sincere.
"Yeah"
She nodded definitely, returning the grin.
"Yeah"
With his hand lightly touching her chin, he guided her lips closer to his and kissed her softly. When the kiss broke, he felt her smile against his lips as she whispered, "You moved your hand"
He drew back slightly so he could look at her.
"What"
"Your hand. You moved it off my leg when you kissed me," Abbey repeated.
"Oh. Yeah, so I did. Guess I'm not scared anymore"
"Guess not. Are you still nervous about the MS"
"I wish I wasn't"
"Well, you know what we could do"
"What?" Jed asked.
"We could make a deal"
"A deal"
"Yeah! If you get elected in November, you promise not to run for the second term"
"What good would that do"
"Well, by the time the second term would begin, it would be ten years after the initial diagnosis, at which time your relapsing-remitting MS could turn into secondary-progressive MS and"
"Right, yeah. I understand now"
"You don't have to do it, Jed"
"No, I know. But you're right. I don't want to give it a chance to hurt me while I'm office. I don't want to risk that." He sighed. "So this is it, huh? This is how I justify keeping it a secret. One term"
"One term"
"Then I'm outta there"
"Mmm-hmm. Then we begin our retirement"
"Retirement, my left foot! You'll be working till you're a hundred, Abbey"
"Why stop at a hundred? Why not till I die"
"Because you are immortal, Hot Pants"
"Yeah. I'm about as immortal as OJ Simpson is innocent"
"I never did think he really killed her," Jed replied.
"Oh, come on, Jed. The man is guilty as is"
"But then, how guilty is sin anyway"
"I'm not exactly Mother Superior here, but I'm gonna go with very"
"I disagree"
"Then you're a jackass"
"Tell me something I don't know"
"While you're at it, you may as well exonerate Charles Manson when you hit the Oval Office!" Abbey said.
"Charles Manson! Now there's a man who's innocent"
"Oy vey"
"Oy vey? You sound like Woody Allen's mother in all his movies"
"And you should like a priest who wants to absolve Charles Manson of all his sins"
"God forgives, Abbey"
"Oh, spare me"
"God forgives, and God loves"
"I'm going back to the party"
"God forgives, God loves, and God accommodates"
"Goodbye"
"Did I mention God forgives"
"No, you didn't"
"Well, guess what"
"I'm waiting with bated breath, honey"
"God forgives"
"Oy vey"
"Forgives"
"Vey"
"What"
"I don't know!"
"I feel like all of this goes back to The Deal," Jed says to his psychiatrist.
"What's the deal?" Dr. Adams questions.
"The Deal. After we won the New Hampshire primary, before the first election. We were in South Carolina, because the primary was basically a shoo-in for us. Anyway, Abbey and I made a deal regarding my MS. When I ran for a second term, I broke it. God, she was so angry at me. Not that I blame her"
"Tell me about the deal"
"It's a long story"
"I've got time"
February, 1998- Charleston, South Carolina He had left the party a few minutes earlier, and they all pretended not to notice. But she could only pretend for so long before she left in search of him. She found him in the next room, appearing small and helpless in an overstuffed armchair. The room was poorly lit, but she required no illumination to discern his lonely, melancholy figure. In the doorway, she stood tall and majestic, a far cry from her usual short yet strangely intimidating. She observed him circumspectly, stopping occasionally to lightly snap her left wrist, causing the red wine in the glass she so firmly gripped to jump a bit.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was well aware of her strong presence in the room, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Remaining steadfast in the arched doorway, she lifted her glass and pressed it to her lips, allowing an abundant few ounces of wine to pass through, into her mouth and beyond. She then tapped the nail of her right pointer finger against the glass, as she always did, creating a quick, high-pitched noise that at least garnered his coveted attention, though it proved to be fleeting. He glanced up, acknowledging her, and then his gaze fell back down, validating her.
"You should come back in"
The meaning of her words, at first, escaped him. It was as if she were communicating in a language foreign to him. When she spoke again, he understood.
"And have some more wine"
She shrugged her shoulders then, ever so slightly, as a soft, cynical laugh escaped her lips.
"Might lift your spirits a bit"
He granted her a half smile, dutifully rather than genuinely.
"Which, by the way, are uncharacteristically, and undeservedly I might add, on the low side"
With those words came the much-anticipated movement, as she sauntered, tantalizingly slowly, toward him in the way that only she could.
"For a man who has just accomplished an incredible feat, you are awfully dreary, Governor Bartlet. Or shall I say…President Bartlet"
He winced out of pain or fear, or likely both. The agony his eyes conveyed made her draw back suddenly. She studied him for a moment, her eyes searching his for the response to her unvoiced, but mutually understood, concern.
"What is it"
Her voice was laced with a suppressed panic, her eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed. His sigh that followed was so tormented that her breath caught in her throat.
"I don't think I can do this, Abbey"
She was rendered speechless by the sheer amount of pity and self-doubt it must have taken for his conscience to instruct his mouth to say such a thing. She breathed an uneasy sigh, yet smiled confidently, mustering up all the spousal reassurance she had in her.
"Well. I don't know what you're talking about, but whatever it is, I know that you damn well can do it"
He shook his head and turned his eyes, though not his attention, away from her.
"I'm just an economist"
Raising a challenging eyebrow, she replied, "Among other things"
With that said, she shifted her body to the side and lowered herself down onto his lap. He turned his head to face her and, for the first time since she had entered the room, looked her straight in the eyes. She curled her legs up and pressed her body into his, infusing her faith and love into him by the warm sensation of her touch.
"You, my dear, are governor of New Hampshire, a three-term Congressman, beloved economics professor, Nobel Prize-winning economist, father of three beautiful, intelligent daughters, and loving husband to one Dr. Abigail Bartlet, your fantastic and wonderful wife of thirty years, who just happens to be sitting right here on your lap. And I am wholeheartedly convinced that there is nothing in this great, big, confusing world that you cannot do"
She kissed him fervently on the cheek, then dropped a few quick butterfly kisses along his jaw before removing her lips altogether.
"You just blew John Hoynes right out of the water, so what the hell are you doing in here"
"I don't know," he replied, vaguely, staring off ahead of him.
"Jed," Abbey said, her voice shaky and nervous.
"What?" He asked, now concerned by the tone of his wife's voice.
"You're doing that thing"
Her eyes were fixated on her right thigh, which was almost completely bare now that she had sat down and her skirt had inched up.
"What thing"
"The thing you do when you're scared and need to calm down"
His eyes wandered down to the place her gaze was locked upon. He noticed his hand was resting on her upper thigh, his fingers gently moving in a circular pattern on her skin. He had no recollection of putting his hand there at all, but he brushed that fact aside.
"Are you saying that I have to rub your thigh with my hand in order to calm myself down"
The lightness in his voice allowed her to relax a little.
"Well, I'm sure you don't have to, but you certainly do," she replied.
"You realize how ridiculous that is, right? If I wanted to calm myself down, I'd go have a cigarette. Putting my hand on your thigh would only get my blood flowing even more and make me want to have my way with you"
"Your hand's there now. Do you want to have your way with me here in this chair at this exact moment"
"Well. Maybe not at this exact moment, but in the near future"
"Jed"
"Abbey"
"You still haven't moved your hand. What are you afraid of?" She asked, with genuine curiosity.
"I'm not afraid of anything. This theory is yours is….you know. It's…dumb! Yeah. When have I ever done this before"
"Lots of times"
"Give me an example"
"Too many times to count"
"Yeah, well, what if I'm scared and need to calm myself down while we're at a party on opposite sides of the room, and I'm talking to someone? What then"
"That's easy," she answered, coolly. "You did it last week at Governor Foley's party. You were talking with Governor Foley, as you had been all evening, and I was across the room. You made some excuse to leave him, then you walked over to me and pushed me into a corner. You wrapped your left arm around my waist and then let your right hand drift down to my thigh. And nobody thought anything of it because you made it look like you were telling me something important, something governorly"
"First of all, governorly is not a word. Second of all, I did not"
"Yes, you did"
"Well, did you ever think that maybe I was trying to turn you on, and when I didn't get the response I'd hoped for, I gave up"
"No," Abbey said, simply.
"And why not"
"Because, honey, if you always tried to turn me on that way, you'd never get laid"
He dropped his haw, feigning astonishment.
"I resent that"
"As well you should"
"You've wounded me, Abigail," he said, placing one hand over his heart.
She smiled faintly, and snuggled up closer to him, tucking her head under his chin. He tightened one arm around her torso, and kept the other hand, involuntarily of course, in its original position on her thigh.
"At least now you're talking like you're again," she said. "And not Mr. 'woe is me, I can't do this, I'm just an economist"
"Hey, quiet. That guy is real. He'll hear you"
"Then tell me why that guy is so scared"
"He's nervous about the future"
"Yeah, I hear he's gonna be the Democratic nominee for President of the United States"
"That's what they keep telling him"
She nodded, playing along with his game.
"How does he feel about that"
"He's a little nervous. You know how it is"
"Right, sure"
"But mostly he's confident"
"He is"
"No. He just pretends he is. But his wife figured him out, like she always does," he replied.
"His wife's a smart cookie, huh"
"Eh, I don't know about that. She does have a medical degree from Harvard, but that doesn't really mean anything. He never saw her study while she was in med school"
"I suppose she just guessed her way through the MCATS then"
"Yep"
"Why's he nervous about being President?" Abbey questioned.
"Plenty of reasons. Running the country's a tough job. Also, he's feeling guilty"
"Why's that"
"Well, don't tell anyone, but he's got Multiple Sclerosis. Nobody knows but his immediate family, and he hasn't told the public"
"Does he think he should tell them"
Jed shrugged.
"He wants to be President"
"Even though he's so nervous"
"Yeah"
"I see. Would you tell him something for me"
"Sure"
"Tell him he has his wife's support, no matter what he decides"
"I will. I know he'll appreciate that. He loves his wife a great deal. Sometimes, he thinks, more than he loves himself"
"Only sometimes"
"By sometimes, he meant always," Jed said.
"That's what I thought he meant"
"He wonders now and then if she loves him as much as he loves her"
"Oh, well I spoke with her the other day, and I can assure you…she does. She absolutely does"
His grin was boyish, but his gratitude was sincere.
"Yeah"
She nodded definitely, returning the grin.
"Yeah"
With his hand lightly touching her chin, he guided her lips closer to his and kissed her softly. When the kiss broke, he felt her smile against his lips as she whispered, "You moved your hand"
He drew back slightly so he could look at her.
"What"
"Your hand. You moved it off my leg when you kissed me," Abbey repeated.
"Oh. Yeah, so I did. Guess I'm not scared anymore"
"Guess not. Are you still nervous about the MS"
"I wish I wasn't"
"Well, you know what we could do"
"What?" Jed asked.
"We could make a deal"
"A deal"
"Yeah! If you get elected in November, you promise not to run for the second term"
"What good would that do"
"Well, by the time the second term would begin, it would be ten years after the initial diagnosis, at which time your relapsing-remitting MS could turn into secondary-progressive MS and"
"Right, yeah. I understand now"
"You don't have to do it, Jed"
"No, I know. But you're right. I don't want to give it a chance to hurt me while I'm office. I don't want to risk that." He sighed. "So this is it, huh? This is how I justify keeping it a secret. One term"
"One term"
"Then I'm outta there"
"Mmm-hmm. Then we begin our retirement"
"Retirement, my left foot! You'll be working till you're a hundred, Abbey"
"Why stop at a hundred? Why not till I die"
"Because you are immortal, Hot Pants"
"Yeah. I'm about as immortal as OJ Simpson is innocent"
"I never did think he really killed her," Jed replied.
"Oh, come on, Jed. The man is guilty as is"
"But then, how guilty is sin anyway"
"I'm not exactly Mother Superior here, but I'm gonna go with very"
"I disagree"
"Then you're a jackass"
"Tell me something I don't know"
"While you're at it, you may as well exonerate Charles Manson when you hit the Oval Office!" Abbey said.
"Charles Manson! Now there's a man who's innocent"
"Oy vey"
"Oy vey? You sound like Woody Allen's mother in all his movies"
"And you should like a priest who wants to absolve Charles Manson of all his sins"
"God forgives, Abbey"
"Oh, spare me"
"God forgives, and God loves"
"I'm going back to the party"
"God forgives, God loves, and God accommodates"
"Goodbye"
"Did I mention God forgives"
"No, you didn't"
"Well, guess what"
"I'm waiting with bated breath, honey"
"God forgives"
"Oy vey"
"Forgives"
"Vey"
"What"
"I don't know!"