"No! Besides, they all know."
"But.."
"They're all coming, Jed. Get used to it," Abbey said.
"Who exactly? Give me the full run down."
Abbey sighed.
"Leo, Jenny & Mallory; Scott, Millie & the boys; Julia and Andre; Michelle, Dallas & the kids; John, Martina & Jason; your parents, and Dad and Nan. That's it. Well, the girls will have friends are the actual party but for the weekend, that's it," Abbey said.
"That's it? That's a lot, Abbey."
"No, it's not. Immediately family only. With the exceptions of the Griffiths and the McGarrys anyway."
"The weekend from hell."
"They're all staying at the Sheraton, Jed."
"Yeah, but they'll still be in our hair 24/7."
"Ok, I'm leaving. You're driving me nuts.
"Where are you going?"
"Food shopping, for the weekend. Stay here with the girls."
"Yeah. Don't forget the Valium."
"Goodbye!"
"Hey, Dad," Liz said, walking into the living room, her two younger sisters following close behind here.
"Whoa there. Munchkin ambush," Jed said.
"Can we talk to you for a sec?"
"Uh oh. This can't be good."
Zoey hopped onto Jed's lap and Liz and Ellie sat on either side of him.
"Well," Liz began. "With the family coming up this weekend, we were wondering about...Michael."
"We were waiting for a time when we could talk to you without Mom being here..." Ellie said.
Jed nodded.
"Thank you. That's probably best. Well. I'll talk, but I want you to keep this quiet around Mom, ok?" Jed bargained.
They all agreed.
"Ok. As you know, Michael is your mother's older brother."
"You mean was?" Ellie interjected.
"No. Is. Mom likes to talk about him in present tense, when she talks about him at all."
"Was..er, is Michael the oldest?"
"No. Julia is. It goes Julia, Michael, Mom, and then Michelle."
"How old is Aunt Michelle?"
"She is...let's see, four years younger than your mother so...thirty-seven."
"And Aunt Julia?"
"Forty-five."
"How old would Michael be?"
"Michael would be about forty-three."
"And Mom is forty-one?"
Jed nodded.
"Mom is forty-one. But don't tell her I told you that."
"Ok. Can you please tell us the whole story, Dad?" Liz questioned.
"It's complicated. Michael was very...troubled. Now don't get me wrong, he had a good heart. But he was confused about some things."
"Did you know Michael, Daddy?" Zoey asked.
"I did, yes. Pretty well a ctually."
"Did I ever meet him?"
"No, sweetie. But Liz did."
"You did, Lizzie?"
"Yeah, but I don't remember him."
"That's because you were only two when he died, Liz. Michael was Liz's godfather."
"So...Liz doesn't have a godfather now?"
"I guess not."
"Who's her godmother?" Ellie asked.
"Aunt Julia."
"Um, who are mine?"
"Eleanor Emily!"
"What! I don't remember."
"Scott and Millie are your godparents."
"What are mine!" Zoey asked.
"Leo and Jenny, sweetheart."
"Who will the new baby's godparents be?"
"That is an excellent question, Zoey. I would imagine Aunt Michelle and Uncle John are next in the line of succession."
"But they're not married!"
"No, they're not. You don't have to be married, honey."
"I'm bored. Can you tell us about Michael now?" Ellie said.
"No, wait. You know what I just realized? We know next to nothing about Mom's family. I mean, what about Mom's mom?" Liz said.
"That's Nan, silly!"
"It's not Nan. Nan is Mom's step-mother. Dad, start from the beginning. Tell us everything you know."
"I think you guys should talk to your mother about this..."
"She'll leave stuff out."
"She knows more than I do!" Jed admitted.
"Please, Dad," Ellie begged. "It's almost my birthday."
"Oh, that's low, Ellie. You know I can't say no to that."
"Then tell us!"
Jed sighed.
"Oh, all right."
"Yes!"
"But don't tell Mom."
"Abigail Anne Bartlet was born on March 12th, 1946 in Boston, Massachusetts. How's that for a beginning?"
"Keep going, Dad!"
"She was born to Nicholas and Alexandra Bennett, of Cambridge, Massachusetts. While she was growing up, her family moved a lot, around the great and wonderful Bay State. They lived in Groton, Billerica, Andover, Lowell, and Westford."
"How come Mommy doesn't talk like Pop and Nan and Auntie Julia and..." Zoey said.
"Oh, she did. She didn't know the letter 'R' existed until I came into her life. And when we lived in London, she lost the accent."
"Why?"
"Accents often fade when you're not around people with the same accent. And thank God. I like to think of myself as Henry Higgins to her Eliza Doolittle. She could have danced all night, and I grew accustomed to her face," Jed said, wistfully.
"Dad, you realize we have no idea what you're talking about, right?" Liz said.
"Wouldn't it be loverly?"
"Dad. Back to the story."
"Ok! Um. Well. Both Nick and Alexandra had family money, but wanted to support themselves. After the war, Nick went in for his law degree while Alexandra both raised the kids and worked as a high school math teacher."
"Ew! My grandmother taught math!" Liz exclaimed in disgust.
"Ick, ick, ick, ick, ick!" Ellie agreed.
"I like math," Zoey said, quietly.
"That's because all you have to do is 1+12. Wait till you hit Algebra," Liz said.
"Hark! Darest thou speaketh ill of mathematics in the presence of such an accomplished economist as myself?" Jed challenged them.
"Yes!" They all said at once.
"Ahem. As I was saying.."
"Wait! I have a question," Liz said.
"If you must."
"If Pop was in the war, how could Aunt Julia have been born in '42 and Michael in '44?"
"I...don't know the specifics on that one, thankfuly, but I'm gonna guess Pop, ya know...did his thing...on leave," Jed answered, awkwardly.
"Oh. Continue."
"Well, by the time Aunt Michelle was born in 1950, Pop got his law degree and began working at a firm, with chains across eastern Mass. They transferred him often. From what your mother tells me, Pop didn't enjoy long commutes which accounted for them constantly moving."
"Then what?"
"Well, Mom always says she had a very happy childhood, so I don't think moving phased her a bit." He smiled inwardly to himself. "She's still that way now."
"So then the kids all went to college?" Ellie questioned.
"Uh, yeah. I believe Julia went to Boston College, where she teaches now. She must have started college in 1960."
"Did Michael go to college?"
"Yeah. He went to Northeastern, if I recall."
"What did they study?"
"Julia studied american history and political science, which she now teaches at BC. Michael studied physics."
"Really?" Liz asked, impressed.
"Honey, you come from a family of geniuses, on both s ides. Let's make that clear right off the bat. Michael could have been the next Albert Einstein, and I kid you not."
"Mommy's a geneass too?" Zoey inquired.
Jed laughed.
"Yes, sweetheart, Mommy's a genius too."
"What happened next?"
"Well...this is the hard part, you could say. In 1962, Alexandra Bennett, Mom's mom, was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She died, at the age of 40, in 1963, three days after your mother's seventeenth birthday."
"She died on March 15th?" Ellie asked.
"That's right."
Liz's eyes filled with tears.
"Were she and Mom close?"
Jed nodded.
"Very close. She was very close with all of her children."
"Oh, no," Zoey said.
"Liz? What's the matter?" Jed asked, clearly concerned.
"I just...can't magine losing Mom that young, or at all. That's like...almost my age. I...I feel so terrible. What did she do?"
"She coped. They all did. They had to. If you ask me, not one of them ever got over it. And I don't blame t hem."
"What about Pop!" Ellie asked.
"From what I know, Pop loved his wife very much and mourned her...a fair amount of time. But, you have to understand, Pop's never been one to be alone. Some people need that kind of support in their lives and completely fall apart without it."
"And that's when Pop met Nan?"
"Mmm hmm. And Nan's name is Joanne, by the way."
"But Mom calls her Nan too," Ellie said.
"Yeah. I don't know exactly how that got started. But rumor has it, when Nan and Pop got married in late 1964, your aunt Michelle, who was fourteen at the time, got very nervous and completely botched the name Joanne."
"Into Nan?"
"These are unconfirmed suspicions, mind you, but yes."
"How come Pop married Nan so soon after his wife died?" Ellie asked.
"My guess is for the reasons I just explained to you," Jed answered.
"Would you have done it?"
"Done what?"
"If Mom suddenly died, like, next year. Would you get remarried that quickly?"
Jed shuddered.
"I don't want to think about that, Ellie."
"Would you?"
"You want the truth?"
"Yes," Ellie replied, uncertainly.
"I would remarry at all."
"Ever!"
"Ever."
"You don't need the kind of support that Pop needs?"
"The only support I need is your mother's," Jed answered, genuinely.
"Would you go out on dates?" Liz asked.
"No."
"Come on, Dad. You're still young. You'd go out with women. Be realistic."
"I would not. I've got my friends and my family. That's enough."
"What about, ya know, romance? Are you telling me you'd be celibate for ther rest of your life if Mom died?" Liz said.
"Let me tell you a little something, Elizabeth Adele. If your mother hadn't come along, I'd be leading a celibate existence anyway as a man of t he cloth. It's her or nobody."
"That's really sweet, Dad," Ellie commented.
"It's sweet, but I don't believe it," Liz said. "Zoey, cover your ears. Dad, I don't care how much you love Mom, men are genetically programmed for sex. It's called testosterone."
"Priests and monks do it all over the world," Jed argued.
"Yeah, but they're not...ya know, used to it. You could never go twenty-some years with sex, especially the way you and Mom are, and then go without it for like, fifty more years. It's just physically impossible."
"Ok, I'm starting to get really peeved here, Liz."
"I'm just trying to be realistic, Dad."
"Well, stop it."
"Fine, I was just saying..."
"Liz."
"Ok! Continue with your story."
"Well, now I don't remember what I was talking about."
"Pop married Nan..."
"And they've been happily married for twenty-four years now," Jed said.
"So did Mom get along with Nan back then?" Ellie asked.
"Mom tolerated her, Julia wouldn't speak to her, Michael verbally hit out at her every chance he got, and Michelle adored her. She was young and needed a motherly figure, and she took what she could get."
"Does Aunt Julia speak to her now?"
"Mmm, yes. From time to time."
"What happened to Mommy?" Zoey wondered.
"Mommy went off to college! She spent her undergraduate years at Amherst, pre-med."
"When did she meet you, Dad?" Ellie asked.
"She was a sophmore at Amherst and I was a junior at Notre Dame."
"How did you meet?"
"We know this story already, Zoey," Liz said.
"Oh, yeah."
"Let's just say it involved spring break, Martha's Vineyard, and Leo's parents' yaht."
"Ohhh yeah. So Mommy met you and then she wasn't sad anymore?"
Jed smiled.
"Yeah."
"Is that the end of the story?" Ellie questioned.
"No, stupid, he hasn't told us about Michael yet!"
"Yeah, tell us about Michael."
"Well. Michael...fought in the Vietnam War."
"He was drafted?"
"No, he volunteered. He didn't believe in why we were fighting, but he believed in America."
Ellie frowned.
"He died in battle?"
"Nope. He returned home safely. Probably thanks to your mother."
"Why?"
"Well, she had this theory that if a man had responsibilities...he would return from the war. She thought that God would ensure his safe return. So, when Miss Elizabeth over here was born, we named Michael her godfather. And two weeks later, he came home."
"But if he came home, how did he die?" Ellie asked.
"Well. You know how Uncle Leo doesn't like to talk about the war?"
The girls nodded.
"That's because a lot of things happened, terrible things. Many soldiers returned from the war depressed and disillusioned. Michael was no exception. When he returned, Mom, baby Lizzie, and I headed back across the pond to see him. Mom and I spent the entire week trying to...well, keep Michael sane. By the time we went back to London, he had found his own apartment in Cambridge and we thought he seemed to be on the right track. But we were wrong. Your mother spent the better part of the next tw o years on the phone trying to talk him out of ending his own life. She came to bed crying almost every night. But she did everything she could."
"Oh, no," Ellie whispered.
"Then, in the summer of 1973, shortly after Lizzie's 2nd birthday, we got a call from your aunt Julia."
"Michael?"
Jed nodded.
"Michael."
"He killed himself?" Liz asked.
"Yeah," Jed answered, sadly.
"How'd he do it?"
"How didn't he do it? Can I trust that you three are mature enough to hear this?"
"Yes!"
"Ok. Michael started by swallowing a bottle of pills, but that took too long, so he started cutting his wrists. He couldn't stand the sight of his own blood, so he...shot himself in the head."
"Oh, my God."
"What did Mom do?"
"She was...disturbed for a very long time. So I decided it was time to take her home, and we moved back to the States."
"To the Manchester house?" Ellie asked.
"No, not yet. We got an apartment in Boston so I could teach and Mom could go to Harvard. A few years later, Ellie was born."
"What about me!" Zoey questioned.
"And Zoey was born five years after that."
"And we all lived happily ever after?"
"Yes, baby."
"So why doesn't Mom ever talk about Michael?"
"Because it's hard for her, El. She misses him. And she blames herself for what happened to him."
"Why does she blame herself?"
"She believes that if she hadn't been so far away from him, in London, she could have saved him."
"Is that true?"
"No, honey. Michael's mind had been made up long before. Nothing your mother could have done would have changed his mind."
The front door flew open and they all turned around to see Abbey enter the house carrying two grocery bags.
"Mommy!" Zoey cried out, running over to her. "It wasn't your fault, Mommy."
"What?"
Jed stood up quickly.
"Uh, girls, why don't you go bring in the rest of the bags from the car?"
"Ok!"
They all ran (or, in Liz's case, walked) out the door. Jed took the bags Abbey was carrying and they walked into the kitchen.
"What were you guys doing?" Abbey asked. "And what's not my fault?"
He smiled uneasily and took her hand.
"Let's go out on the porch, shall we?" He said, leading the way.
"What's going on?"
"Nothing, we just need to have a little chat."
THey sat down side by side on the porch swing.
"What'd you do, Jed?"
"Don't yell at me when I tell you this."
"Josiah Edward Bartlet, what did you do?"
"Uh oh. Bringing out the full names, are we, Abigail?"
"Jed."
"In fact, you should be glad I did this. Thrilled, even."
"Jed!"
"I gave the girls a little family history."
She eyed him suspiciously.
"Who's family history?"
"Yours."
"Mine?"
"Yes."
"But...why?"
"They asked me about Michael, Abbey," Jed said, searching her eyes for a reaction.
"They did?" She asked, quietly.
"They did."
"You told them...everything?"
"Well, they wanted to know about Nan too. And your mother."
"What do you know about my mother?"
"Plenty."
"You never even met her."
"So? I've seen pictures. Many, in fact."
"Where?"
"Well, for starters, there's the one you keep on your nightstand, love."
"Oh."
"Why so defensive?"
"I don't know. I'm always defensive about Mom. I hope you did her justice. I don't want her to be misrepresented."
"I did her justice, honey. Don't worry," Jed assured her.
"I look nothing like her," Abbey said, sadly, not looking at him.
He was a little thrown off by her randomness, but he caught his balance quickly.
"Oh, yes, you do, Abigail."
"I look like Dad."
"I beg to differ. It's true that you have your father's dark hair, his height or lack thereof, and his crooked yet disarming smile. But you've got your mother's eyes, Abbey. Her beautiful green eyes. And her nose. You both have that nose that wrinkles when you smile or laugh. And her skin."
"Yeah. Maybe."
"See? You have plenty of Alexandra Bennett in you, my love. Plenty."
"Julia looks like Mom," Abbey said.
"Yes, if she hadn't dyed her hair."
"She did it to have dark hair like Dad, Michelle, and I."
"She should have left it light, and longer."
"Why are we discussing my sister's hair?"
"Couldn't tell ya."
"Michael looked like Mom."
"Abbey..."
"He did."
"You just referred to him in past tense! Twice!" Jed said, astonished.
"Oh my God, I did!"
"Now I'm not a psychiatrist, nor do I know anything about psychoanalysis, but I do believe that's progress you've just made."
Abbey smiled.
"Too bad you had to snag a girl with so much baggage, huh?"
"I didn't exactly come baggage-free either, hon," Jed said.
"All those years...when Michael was in the war, when he came home so unstanble, and then when he died...I must have been such a drag," Abbey said, cracking a slight smile.
"Nah, you were my little ray of sunshine."
"I'm serious, Jed."
"So am I."
"Did I ever thank you for being so good to me throughout all of that?"
"Yes, you did, in fact."
"Really. And we were still just newlyweds throughout that whole ordeal. In a time when our...union was so new and fragile, you could easily have shaken me off and let it ruin our marriage."
"Hey..."
"Let me finish. If we had been married for twenty years when it happened, that'd be different. I would expected, and quickly frankly demanded, that kind of support from you. But so early on...that was really admirable of you, Jed. Calming my nerves, thwarting my raving paranoia, listening to me vent about nothing, holding me while I cried myself to sleep every night, and even talking to Michael on the phone in place of me when I just couldn't handle it emotionally anymore. I look at other marriages that died so early on, under less stress than we were under, and I'm amazed. And so grateful. And I think to myself, wow, that's love. That's love."
She was nearly crying now.
"Oh, sweetheart. You honestly think I would have left you when you needed me most?"
"Happens to others all the time."
"Not us, baby. Not us. If anything, all of that just made our marriage stronger. This bond is tough as nails, honey. Come hell, high water, or matters of state, it will not be broken."