Danny leaned back in his chair before hitting send on the e-mail. He wanted one more look at his sleeping son.
Patrick Joseph Concannon was seven years old and growing like a weed. Danny decided it was more noticeable when there were long gaps in the time you actually spent in the physical presence of your only child.
It wasn't his ex-wife. She and Danny remained friends and were committed parents. But she didn't live near D.C. even though he could afford for her to live there. Trish preferred the college town where she taught a course on textile art and paid her own bills.
She would help Danny see P.J. at a moment's notice and was liberal with vacation time. They'd planned on Danny having a long stretch with his son in July. That was the plan before the shooting in May.
P.J. was too frightened to visit. He was afraid there would be more shooting and this time, Danny would be hurt. No amount of reassurance tempered the fear. After all in P.J.'s mind, President Bartlet and Josh Lyman had agents to protect them and still got shot.
There was a mutual admiration society between Josh and Patrick. Josh always made time for his friend's son when P.J. came to visit.
And since the President was a Notre Dame grad like his amazingly cool Dad, P.J. liked the President too.
The summer had flown by and this was the last chance for father son time together. Professionally, Danny couldn't leave D.C. until the President was out of the hospital. On the personal level, he didn't want to leave until Josh was out of the ICU and out of immediate danger. That personal concern extended to C.J. too. She'd been so fragile in those first weeks. Her grip on coping was flimsy at best these days.
Danny turned back to the screen and typed: "I know it's your hospital night. Give Donna my best and tell Josh where I am tonight.
"Here's your first installment of 'On The Road With The Fabulous Concannon Boys'. No tears on leaving and not too much looking back. His mom made it a whole half hour before phoning us. That was about 15 minutes after I shared the first of this trip's expected many 'Are we there yets?'s.
"Believe it or not, we did some shopping. I bought P.J. new Timberland boots. They'll work for the outdoor part of this excursion and for foul weather once school starts. Also bought him athletic shoes for general running around on this trip. Kept looking at the feet that used to barely cover my palms.
"Checked in here in Williamsport and he examined every inch of the room and bath. After that, we booted up the computer and started our research. We started with the Minor League Baseball website and found the page for our first team, the Williamsport Crosscutters.
"P.J. loved knowing we're also near the site of the Little League World Series. Surfed that website and then moved onto the major league baseball teams we'll be seeing later in the trip. I wanted to preview the West Virginia campground but he was hungry - again.
"After guys' night out at a sports bar I had to hit a convenience store to keep him from starving to death. The accommodations here don't run to minibars. I miss Air Force One!
"One last thing, I had a baked potato at dinner. P.J. and the waiter looked at me funny when I broke into a big grin when it was served. I'll never look at a spud the same way.
I love you and make sure you get some sleep.
Love,
Danny"
C.J. opened the e-mail as she sat cross-legged on the hospital bed. "No sleep tonight," she muttered after a quick reading of Danny's e-mail.
Since the night of the shooting she'd only dozed while attempting to sleep in her office or at the hospital. Alone in her apartment she did a little better managing to wake up every hour on the hour.
Her only decent sleep came when she and Danny shared a bed. Didn't matter whose bed or what time they settled in for the night. C.J. needed his presence to find that blessed relief.
She'd nearly confessed that to him. The certainty that knowing it would make him more torn about leaving her to see his son kept her silent.
C.J.'d had Danny longer than she'd expected. After everything exploded around them on that warm May evening C.J. knew they wouldn't be making the scheduled Presidential visit to California. That meant C.J. and Danny didn't get to visit C.J.'s infant daughter's grave. His reaction when he learned about the tragic loss of Cloe and his unwavering support to C.J. had made them even closer.
She offered Danny that comfort back once she learned about Danny's son refusing to visit D.C. out of fear after the shooting.
Her mind shook off all those bleak memories to focus on a good day. Josh was doing better and the President was grouchy about being kept "a prisoner" in the White House Residence.
After hitting a few phone buttons, C.J. listened again to Danny's voice mails. One informed her that his flight had landed safely and offered a quick update while P.J. finished packing. She returned to her computer to savor the cyber connection to Danny rereading his e-mail. It was a succinct recap of the drive with his son.
She smiled at the glee the seven year old got out of staying in a hotel. It was a pain for anyone in C.J. and Danny's line of work.
He wrote that tomorrow they'd catch the first of four ballgames in as many days at as many ballparks. But tonight it was guys' night out at a sports bar.
C.J. got a catch in her throat when she opened the attachment and saw Patrick Joseph Concannon. He was much bigger than in the last picture she'd seen. "You resemble your Dad especially that grin and those eyes."
She made a mental note to show it to Josh.
Her eye caught the mention of the baked potato and the tears came. He'd made her a baked potato after she turned up at his apartment. She'd been seeking a reunion and comfort after their work related rift and the aftermath of Rosslyn. The simple act of making her a simple baked potato for dinner was his way to show his love by taking care of her. First, by feeding her body and then by feeding her spirit as they came together again in Danny's bed.
The dinner had been delicious and simple and making love had been so right. Those memories brought her to tears. "Oh God, Danny, I miss you already. I hate myself for wishing you were here."
Donna tapped on the door, "Sorry, C.J. I didn't want to startle you."
"I'm fine. We should try and get some sleep." She indicated the hospital bed. "I'd say sweet dreams; however we know that's a lie."
(TBC)
