But Not Lonely
CJ/Danny, Nancy/OMC, mentions of others
Rating Teen – some implied "macho" behavior
Spoilers through end of series
Not mine, never were, never will be, but they consume my soul
Thanks to Jini for letting me use her hubby's line about women who do extreme waxing
Feedback and criticism always welcomed
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September 10, 2011; Santa Monica, CA
"Here you go."
Danny set down the six longnecks he was carrying, removing his fingertips from the openings of three of them.
"I'm assuming none of you mind my germs."
He handed beers to Hank, Frank Muñoz, and his nephew Jesse as Ken Robbins claimed one for himself. Then Danny reclaimed his seat around the table. He was glad that Scott Winkler had relented, somewhat, on alcohol consumption for himself while he and she were "trying". An occasional beer or glass of wine would be okay; a rarer glass of whiskey would be okay, also, but really try to keep it to a minimum. After all, people had been drinking fermented beverages almost as long as they had been having babies, and the human race had managed to survive.
The five men, along with most of the neighborhood, (those over the age of consent, that is) were in the Robbins' back yard, enjoying the higher than usual temperatures of the late summer afternoon. Most of the women were in the pool or at poolside. Wally Hammash, sporting his "If you can't stand the heat, fetch me another beer!" apron, was tending the chicken on the grill. Pete, Li, Joel, and Billy were playing two on two basketball.
"Where's Steve?" Danny asked about the man who had been part of the group when he had left to fetch the beers.
"Where else? Over at Pete and Sonia's checking on Pamela," Hank answered. "I told him she was okay, but you know Steve."
"You told him she was okay because you had just come back yourself, not ten minutes ago, and the both of you had been over there not more than a half-hour before that," Frank laughed. "The two of you have it bad. Remember how Danny was at this same 'thank God the kids are back in school party' two years ago?" (Danny turned a bit red as he remembered that he ended up spending most of the time in his house with the children and the baby-sitters rather than across the street at the Wei's.) "The two of you have nothing on him."
"At least I came to the party," Danny laughed. "Billy didn't leave his house for two months after he became a father."
"Uncle Frank, I don't remember you and Dad being like that."
"Well, I was stationed in Dayton when we had Carmen. Believe me, I was just like these guys when she was born. Luckily, I've learned from experience. As for your father, Tonio is much older than I am and is really part of the generation that was taught to not show your emotions and feelings, that felt that taking care of an infant was the mother's job; plus, he always was more than a little old-fashioned, more than a little macho."
"So, I wonder who'll I'll take after?"
"You trying to tell us something about you and Nancy?" Frank asked in return.
"Well, no, not just yet," Jesse laughed. "We did make up after that fight in June, of course, but there are still a lot of things to talk about before I feel ready to settle down."
Danny gave the younger man a serious, level look.
"Well, with all due respect, Nancy is special to CJ, to me, and to the entire Bartlet gang. I wouldn't want you to do anything you're not ready for, but at the same time, if there is no chance of this relationship moving into something permanent, please don't mislead the woman. I guess I'm suggesting that soon you need to fish or cut bait."
"Believe me, I'm hoping for that permanence. And the Estevez brothers have already had this talk with me, in slightly less polite words," Jesse laughed. "But marriage is serious, a commitment, especially for our families, for our religion. I want to be sure."
"I'm sure that Ramon, Charlie, and Emilio were formidable, but I don't know how they would stack up against President Bartlet, Josh, Sam, Toby, Charlie, and Will, with Rick, Jean-Luc, John Hoynes and me as backup, not to mention the ghost of Leo McGarry. Anyway, I'm going to call CJ in a few minutes if she doesn't call me first. Shall I relay anything to Nancy?"
CJ and Nancy were in San Luis Obispo for a Hollis Foundation meeting, had been there since late Thursday afternoon. They would be flying back tomorrow morning. Danny had a one-time course meeting this morning, a lecture by a distinguished professor from Columbia, so he stayed home with Paddy. Actually, it was for the best. Paddy was starting into his "terrible two" phase and would be more of a distraction than CJ needed at the meeting.
He had enjoyed the time alone with his son yesterday, but he wondered how working, single parents managed. Paddy was constantly running from room to room, constantly wanting attention, constantly wanting to know "what" and "why". By the time night fell and the little boy was dead to the world for the night, so was his father.
Little Maggie had a pediatrician's appointment earlier today, so when Danny had to go to USC for the lecture, Jill Robbins came over to sit with Paddy. When Paddy started to throw a tantrum, wanting "Mama!", Danny thought he might have to miss the lecture. But Jill told him to leave and not to worry; the child would tire of screaming soon enough.
"Oh, sweet Jesus!"
The other men looked up at the sound of Ken's voice. The attractive nurse that Jimmy Jenkins brought to the party had removed her cover-up.
"What in the world is that?"
"I think they call it a micro-bikini." Jesse said. Studio designer Hank nodded in agreement.
"Micro isn't the word for it. The sides of that triangle can't be any longer than two inches," Danny ventured. "It's at least a nano-bikini, maybe even a pico one."
"And the two pieces up top, she doesn't have that much, can't be any longer than three on the side," Frank added.
Then the young woman turned around.
"Madre de Dios, it's a thong. She must have to shave off everything."
"Wax." Hank added his expert opinion. "Some of them leave a little bit, like a soul patch, but many of them take it all off."
"You mean they put hot wax there and then rip?" Frank asked incredulously.
"Yep," the studio designer answered as the other men instinctively crossed their legs, imagining such a feeling on their anatomy.
"I went with a girl that waxed off everything," Jesse told the others. "She was a runway model and had that kind of figure, or lack of a figure. Small busted, no real hips to speak of. Combined with the lack of hair, I never was comfortable being with her. She looked like a little girl. I felt like a pedophile."
"I can see that," Ken said. "Plus, I wouldn't want Laura wearing something so revealing." He looked over at his wife, her white strapless maillot setting off the warm nutmeg of her skin. "That's about the extent of what I want to share with the rest of you."
The other men's eyes followed his. Some women are better suited than other women to wearing a strapless bathing suit, Danny thought. Laura Robbins was among the best suited to do so. She had enough to hold up the suit and to emphasize the difference between her bust and her waist, but the proportions were pleasing, especially in relation to her hipline. She didn't look like Dolly Parton; every time Danny saw that particular performer, he wondered how she managed to not fall over from the sheer weight.
"Por supuesto," Frank answered. "It leaves something to the imagination."
"And just what are you imagining about my wife?" Ken asked, half in fun and half in seriousness.
"Nothing more than you are about mine. I noticed your eyes wandering earlier." Frank thought that Diana's halter and skirted two-piece in a black and red print was sexy because it flattered her figure without revealing too much. It was obvious that Diana was no teenager, but then he didn't want a teenager, he wanted a woman. And it was not obvious that she had given him four children. Her legs, her abdomen, her waist, her breasts – he had better think about something else or else everyone would know what he was thinking just by looking at his trunks.
"Ah, but they were wandering respectfully, my friend. It's not a crime to admire respectfully," the lawyer replied. "If it were, we would all be in jail. Well, except for Hank."
"Oh, I admire. I just prefer not to do anything about it. "
"Well, that just leaves more for the rest of us."
"More what?" Steve joined the group.
"Women," Danny answered. "We're about to break out into a chorus of 'Standing on the Corner.' It's interesting. All the women here are wearing what, in today's terms, could be defined as rather modest swimwear, except for Jimmy's friend. Aside from her, the only one showing more than an inch or two below her navel is Jessica, the only other woman without a husband, and even her bikini isn't anywhere near what that nurse is wearing. And it's not out of necessity. Looking at their figures, none of them have anything to be concerned about. Even Clara, I guess she's the exception to my statement about married women, even at her age, she looks damned good."
"Okay, now Danny's about to start in on 'Mrs. Robinson', albeit twenty-five years too late. We can't let CJ go away again," Jesse laughed.
Hank started to expound on the suits worn by the other women, explaining the difference between a tankini, a skirtini, and a skirted tankini; bandeau, halter, bra, and tank tops; as well as the difference between a maillot, a swim dress, and a tank suit. To Danny, they were either "one piece" or "two piece". Danny thought about CJ's suits. They were similar to what Diana was wearing, except that the bottoms were like a pair of very short shorts rather than a micro-mini-skirt. He supposed that the "old-fashioned sexist" part of him would prefer that CJ wear one piece suits, maybe even the ones with a skirt, in public, but he understood the convenience of the two piece when using a restroom, and she certainly wasn't anywhere near exposing as much as Jimmy's date.
"I'm sure that you guys and the others feel as I do," Ken added. "I can't imagine a man wanting his woman showing everything she's got. I mean, look at Jimmy; he's embarrassed by his date. I don't know how serious he is about her, but if it's more than casual, I bet he says something to her about the suit."
"I know I would," Frank agreed. "And Tonio would do more than say something. I remember when I was about twelve and Jesse's mom, well, she was just a 'steady' at the time, wore a see-through blouse to a party, with no bra."
"What happened, Uncle Frank, did Dad yell at her?"
"He did more than yell. Remember, your father is a throwback to earlier generations. Let's just say that if I did to your aunt what he did to your mother, you wouldn't have your cousins and I'd be singing soprano. Anyway, Steve, is everything all right with the kids?"
"Pammy's a bit cranky. Just heat rash," he added as Hank looked up, concern covering his face. "Paddy and Maggie decided that throwing ice cream was as much fun as eating it. Luckily, they were throwing it back and forth at each other and not at anyone else, so the girls decided to pretend that they didn't see the two of them."
"The older boys, Mike and Steve?" Frank asked about his sons.
"The older boys are playing soccer. Carmen, Cindy, and Heather are mooning over some new teacher at school. They didn't even notice me when I walked through the family room."
"Maybe I should go over and deal with Paddy," Danny started to get up.
"I wouldn't," Ken answered. Frank nodded in agreement. "Ignoring them once in a while is as good a tactic as squelching the behavior. Even tantrums. If they aren't disturbing anyone else and if they aren't inconveniencing you or CJ, sometimes just letting them scream it out helps. Take them to their room, put up a gate so you can see inside, and just pay no attention to the little bugger."
"There are times when I just want to – well, I've been tempted to tell CJ to go back on the pill, or tell her I'm going to get a vasectomy."
"Believe it or not, this stage passes, Danny," Frank assured the man.
Danny's phone rang. "Hey, babe." He got up and walked away from the other men.
He told her about the pool party and Jimmy's date. He told her that he missed her, that he couldn't wait for the next morning when she would be coming home. She told him that she wished she could skip the reception that was planned for the evening and come home now, but Frank was insisting and since he was the one scheduling the plane -. Speaking of which, she would call him right before the plane left San Luis Obispo tomorrow, so he could meet her at the Santa Monica city airport.
Neither of them mentioned that they were approaching another "window". He had finally "trained" her to accept the timing and positional restrictions, to be aware of them, but not to be overly concerned about it.
Then Wally announced that the chicken was at its best and Danny said he needed to hang up the phone. CJ said she'd rather be eating Wally's chicken than Sarita's caviar and crab puffs. Danny said he'd try to keep a piece for her but it wouldn't be the same as eating it hot off the grill, wrapped in lavash with cucumber/dill/yogurt sauce, grilled onions, and sliced tomatoes.
An hour later, stuffed with food, the neighbors were again talking of everything and nothing when one of the babysitters came up to Hank and Steve, a fitful little Pamela in her arms.
"I'm sorry; neither of us can make her comfortable."
Steve reached for the baby girl. "Come here, darling. Let Daddy make it better."
He and Hank made their apologies and hurried home with their daughter.
"They are so great with her." Diana was sitting on a chaise, her legs pulled up so that Frank, who has sitting on the end, could lean his back against them. She played with her husband's hair.
"I know," Laura agreed. She arranged herself a bit more comfortably on Ken's lap. "Maybe it's because they don't have the hormones, don't have the possibility of post-partum depression."
"Whatever it is, I know that they are already talking about the next one," Pete said. "I wonder if they'll use the same surrogate?"
"No. He or she will be Hank's, biologically, so they'll want an African-American mother," Sonia told her husband. Hank and Steve wanted their children to reflect their bi-racial family.
"Was it that important that the child be biologically one of theirs?" Jimmy's date asked. "They didn't want to adopt? There are so many children in the foster care system who need permanent homes and parents."
Danny noticed that she was now wearing Jimmy's long-sleeved dress shirt, the one the hospital required of its doctors, with the cuffs turned up twice to fit her arms. The tails came down to about two inches above her knees. Danny thought that she looked infinitely more alluring than she did in the nine square inches of fabric with two feet of string that comprised her micro-bikini. She really seemed like a nice girl, nice woman, he corrected himself. He was wrong to judge her by the amount of skin she revealed with her swimwear. In any event, he was sure that if she came again to such a party with Jimmy, she would be in something more like what the other women were wearing.
"I advised them against it," Ken answered. "I hope that California won't get like some of those states back East, with their restrictions on gay adoption, and some even trying to take kids from their biological parents, but you never know. I told them that this was the best way to go."
An hour or so later, Danny carried a fussing Paddy into the house.
"Want Maggie! Want Mama!"
Paddy beat his little fists and feet against Danny's body.
Danny started singing. "You can't always get what you wa-ant."
He set Paddy in his crib, stripped off his own clothes and the boy's, then carried him into the master bath.
"Shour!"
Paddy started clapping his hands. He liked being in the shower with Danny, so they kept a bottle of baby wash and shampoo in with them.
Ten minutes later, Danny was in a clean pair of boxers and a T-shirt and Paddy was in a fresh diaper. Danny went to put the child in his crib.
"Read!"
Danny was tired, but he was not going to deny his son that particular request. He wanted to pass on his love of the written word to the child. He picked up a copy of "The Five Hundred Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins", sat down in the nursery rocker with Paddy in his left arm, and began to read to the child, stopping often to point out items in the illustrations and to ask the boy to show him things he thought Paddy should know.
Ten minutes later, the eyes that mirrored CJ's began to close and the thumb crept up toward the mouth that looked like hers. Danny kissed the child, set him in the crib, and walked to the family room.
As he knew from his experience Thursday night, he would have a hard time sleeping without CJ beside him, and was tempted to pour a couple of fingers of Angus' whiskey as a soporific. However, he needed to be able to wake up in an instant if Paddy needed him. He didn't have any classes on Monday; he would be able to sleep in that morning, the Lord (and Paddy) willing.
He walked around the house, making sure everything was properly locked, then settled into bed.
Saturday night, 10:30 PM, and he was in bed, alone. Not that much different than five years ago, except that in '06, he was not only alone, he was lonely. Tonight was so unbelievably better than that time, right before he had dinner with CJ, right before the San Andreo accident, right before he first voiced to CJ his desire to spend the rest of his life with her, right before she gave him hope that her answer wouldn't be "no, thank you."
He pulled CJ's pillow into his arms. It smelled faintly of her perfume and, breathing in the scent, he drifted into sleep.
The next day
Danny stood by the chain link gate as the Hollis plane taxied to the hangar, turned 90 degrees, and came to a stop.
As soon as the flight crew lowered the combination door/step mechanism, CJ came bounding down the stairs, ran over to her husband, threw her arms around his neck, and let him know exactly how much she had missed being with him for the past two days.
He responded in kind and then took her garment bag and tote from her. He was able to carry both on his right arm and looped his left around her shoulders. She put her right arm on his waist and he flashed back more than four years, to that Sunday morning of their wedding weekend, when they walked from their suite to the lanai to join their wedding guests for breakfast. He was still as wonder-filled that she was his wife as he was that morning.
He noticed that Jesse and Nancy were still locked in an embrace. He hoped that he hadn't overstepped himself yesterday, telling the dentist he had best not lead on the young woman. He was a great guy, but Nancy, like all the Bartlet women, was special and deserved only the best. Of course, Jesse did have a point about being sure. The Bartlet group had been lucky so far, with only Toby and Andy, and Liz and Doug, of course, having failed marriages.
"Paddy?" CJ asked.
"Will be with Frank and Diana until early this evening," Danny answered, letting her know by his smile and his eyes that he had his own ideas about the rest of the morning and the afternoon, and that said ideas did not include a twenty-seven month old toddler demanding to be the center of their universe.
He put the bags in the Mustang, seated her on the passenger side, and then began the trip to their house.
She tucked his curls behind his right ear. He grabbed at her hand, kissed it, and then set it to rest on his thigh. Her body began preparations for what would happen when they reached home. Subconsciously, she smiled, looked over at him. He smiled back.
They left the bags in the car. Halfway across the courtyard, he stopped, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. Her left hand slipped under his belt down the back of his jeans. He slipped his hands under her butt, lifted her off the ground three or four inches, and walked to the bedroom.
Afterward, she played with his chest hair as they shared tidbits of information learned over the weekend. Bonnie and Jean-Luc had taken time for a trip to Canada, Indiana, and Washington.
The Santos' new little girl, Rachel Elizabeth, was doing quite well. The First Family had the highest rating of any White House residents since Milly had her puppies back in the '80s.
With her summer school class, Donna had finished the work for her BA at American and was already getting ready to apply to Georgetown for her Master's. And, yes, after all that work, she was going to participate in Commencement exercises next May. They should save the date. It would be on Mothers' Day and Josh was planning on a big celebration for all the "West Wing Moms" as well as for Donna's degree.
Margaret was still working a full day, but the President insisted that she leave the White House by 6:00 every night and not come in on the weekends. They were still looking at an end of October delivery, although Margaret's doctor was watching her vital signs and would induce if she felt it necessary. John was anxious for his son to be born, but was more concerned about his wife.
Paul was seen at Wolf Trap in the company of a lovely woman from the Italian embassy and Carol was all excited until she found out that the woman was a nun. ("I knew they didn't wear habits anymore, but makeup and jewelry?" "Really?" "According to Carol, very understated and very tasteful, but, yes, makeup and jewelry.") Apparently, they had met in Jakarta when Paul was doing missionary work.
Matt Skinner and Eric were roughed up on their camping trip to Lake George. At first, the local police thought hate crime, but after three other cases, all involving heterosexuals, they decided it wasn't because the men were gay. Not that Matt's and Eric's bruises hurt any less because of that conclusion.
Through something that Rick let slip, Bonnie had learned that Ginger wasn't necessarily planning on stopping with the kids after little Matty. ("He said they were leaving it in God's hands. After all, it wasn't a question of money or room, so whatever Ginger wanted was fine by him.")
"Danny, you'll never guess who Glen's guest was for the weekend!" CJ squealed.
"He brought someone? A woman?"
"Of course, a woman! Ainsley!"
"As in Haynes?"
"Yup. And you could tell that there was more than just centrist Republican philosophy between the two of them. I wonder how they'd manage in bed," she giggled.
"Just like the rest of us. He'd put his outie into her - ".
"I mean, the size difference. No, no that," she slapped at the arm that draped on her waist before reaching up her side. Why did Paul have to tell him about her ticklish spot there? She had done a very good job of hiding it for almost four years. "I mean height, and width, and poundage. If I were as small as Ainsley, I'd be afraid of being broken."
"No chance of that," he joked. "With me, I begin to worry when you get - ", he stopped with the second slap. "In the weight room, and the dorm, at the Dome, I knew football players, offensive tackles, linemen, big, muscular guys. And, naturally, some of them were with the daintiest, smallest cheerleaders – the girls, I mean. You'd be surprised at how much weight you can keep off a girl's body." For half a second, he remembered the one little brunette, four foot eight on her tip toes, one hundred three pounds, sopping wet (without the pompoms) he was with his junior year. "Large men are aware of it, believe me. If and when he and Ainsley ever – well, he strikes me as the type that would be extra careful, treat her right, both physically and emotionally." Casually, with affection more than lust, his hand moved down her body. As it trailed below her navel, he reflected on the previous day. While CJ always looked well-groomed in her bathing suits, the wealth of curls under his hand testified to the fact that she definitely was not a little girl, that he definitely was not a pedophile.
"I know, I'm glad for him. I'm glad he has the possibility of someone in his life; besides that blasted dog, I mean."
"Bess is sweet. Never discount the importance of the human-canine bond."
CJ looked up. That last sentence was said just a bit wistfully. She knew how much love there had been between Danny and Pistol when he was a boy. She saw him with the dogs on the block, Ken and Laura's Newfie, the Feldman's Puli, and the "lab mix" that helped keep Clara young at heart. And when they visited with the MacDonald's, he spent a lot of time with Thor, the family's wolfhound.
All he had to do was ask, and she would say "yes, of course." Because he hadn't, she assumed that he was one of those "one dog" people, like her older brother, who allowed Hogan to have a puppy when she was little, but told his daughter that there would never be another "Buster" in his life.
"Danny, you've never said anything, but you know that if you want a dog - ".
"I know." He kissed the top of her head. "It's just that the timing was never right. From experience, it's best that the dog not be the 'first child'. Maybe when Paddy's four or five, if you're sure you don't mind."
"As long as I don't have to conceive it or carry it," she answered. She began to kiss him amorously and was surprised when he didn't respond immediately. Then she remembered "the window", swore softly, and pulled away.
He laughed and pulled her back to him, began to kiss her. "No reason we can't pretend we're horny teenagers trying to stay just this side of mortal sin."
"Speaking of which, what about church?"
"Let's go in the middle of the week to make up for missing it. We've been pretty good, haven't missed since right after Corpus Christi."
"Yes, Father Concannon. Also, what about our son?"
"What about him?"
"When do you have to get him out of hock from Frank and Diana?"
"Maybe in an hour, hour and a half?"
"Then let's enjoy the hot tub while we can."
With Paddy toddling around like a dervish, they had to be careful. The hot tub was kept covered, as was the pool. Both bodies of water had alarms, as did the fountain in the courtyard. This was in addition to all the door latches, outlet covers, and door knob protectors.
Later that evening
"You win."
CJ walked into the house with Paddy in her arms. Before she left to pick up the child at the Muñoz residence, she and Danny placed a playful wager. He said that Paddy would be demanding of her attention as "punishment" for leaving him for the trip to San Luis Obispo. CJ said that her son would ignore her, refuse to kiss and hug.
The loser had to go pick up dinner (carry out from "Outback").
She handed the boy to Danny and went to get her purse.
"Mama! Juice!"
Danny went to the refrigerator and poured some apple juice into a sippy cup. He handed it to the boy.
"No Daddy! Mama!" Paddy started wailing.
"Are you sure you want to stay with him?" CJ asked. "It may be a pyrrhic victory. He'll be wanting something every forty-five seconds."
"No, you go. He'll stop after you leave. He doesn't really want things, he wants to reassure himself that Mama is still there for him, still there to take care of him."
"I know," she said, walking to the garage.
Not the Mustang!" he added. "And don't take the short cut!"
"I hear and obey," CJ sighed and left the house. She was surprised he was actually letting her go to get the food. It was somewhat out of character.
"Want Mama!"
"No. Not just yet." Very quietly, very calmly.
Danny wanted CJ to have a few more minutes of not responding to Paddy's every little demand on her attention. He didn't want to tell her just yet that Paddy had managed to figure out that Daddy was the head of the family and that it was better to stay on Daddy's good side. He hoped that in a few months, the child would not look on CJ as his personal servant.
In one sense, he hoped that this stage would pass before CJ conceived. He didn't want her going through pregnancy with a whining child clinging to her. But he also wanted her happy and knew that the sooner he gave her another child, the happier she would be.
He put Paddy in the playpen, gave him a set of blocks, and set the table, poured the sparkling water. He fetched her bags from the back of the Mustang and carried them to the bedroom.
Returning to the family room, he opened the doors to the deck and to the courtyard. Picking up his water glass, he fetched his son from the playpen and sat facing the ocean.
He enjoyed the view of the sun as it traveled toward the water's edge, but listened for the sound of his wife returning to him, to their son, to their life together.
This weekend, he had been alone but not lonely. In a few minutes, he would be neither.
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"Standing on the Corner" – by Frank Loesser
(from "Most Happy Fella")
Standing on the corner, watching all the girls go by
Standing on the corner, underneath the springtime sky
Brother, you can't go to jail for what you're thinking
Or for the woo look in your eye
You're only standing on the corner, watching all the girls go by