Nine Years
CJ/Danny, mentions of others
Rating Adult –
Spoilers through end of series
Warning – secondary character death
Not mine, never were, never will be, but they consume my soul
Feedback and criticism always welcomed
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Wednesday, July 13, 2016; somewhere over County Clare, Ireland; early morning;
"Mama! All green!"
Danny looked across the aisle; Caitlin's nose was pressed up against the oval window of the plane. He smiled as CJ slid up behind their daughter and put an arm around the child's shoulders.
"Yes, sweetie-cakes, it is very green. That's why they call Ireland 'the Emerald Isle'. I think it's because they get rain all year round here, not like California."
"No rain Calforna?" Caitlin asked.
"Only at certain times of the year, sweetie," CJ laughed.
Danny smiled as CJ ruffled the curls of the little girl. Mother and daughter turned back to the window, their turquoise cotton sweaters and khaki pants bright against the grey and taupe of the plane's décor.
Caitlin was going through a "be like Mama, do everything with Mama" phase. ("Enjoy it while it lasts," Jessica, Hannah, and Laura told her. "In a few years, she'll think you're a – the enemy, and b – the most idiotic person on the face of the earth.")
It started one day when Diana was going through some of the pictures from her parents' house; she had brought home the boxes of old photos when she and her siblings were getting the house ready to put on the market. There were lots of pictures from the 1940's showing Diana's mother as a little girl with Diana's grandmother. In many of the snapshots, the two of them were in "mother/daughter" outfits and Caitlin decided that she and her Mama needed to dress alike. So CJ and Caitlin went on a shopping spree. Shorts, slacks, and tops were easy to manage as long as they stuck to solid colors. "Look alike" dresses had long gone out of style ("I don't remember anything like that when I was a little girl," CJ told Caitlin, "even before Grandma Kathleen had to go live with Jesus"), so CJ and Caitlin went to the fabric store and picked out some prints which CJ, with Diana's help, fashioned into summer dresses and blouses for the two of them. (Danny remembered the surge of anger he felt when Tonio, the Neanderthal who was Frank's older brother and Jesse's father, made some comment about CJ turning into "a proper female" at last. "Let it go, Danny," CJ had said to him under her breath – after she had flipped off the guy – "Just let it go.")
"Mr. Concannon, you'll need to wake up your son. We're into our final approach to Shannon and he needs to be properly strapped in, seatbacks upright and tray tables stored, the usual drill."
Danny looked down to his lap and the light brown shock of hair there. Paddy's mouth was curved in a smile. Perhaps he was reliving the kids' co-ed softball game (well, dads were needed in the outfield to round out the teams, but the men didn't hit) from a couple of days ago at Rick and Ginger's. Paddy had hit a home run with the bases loaded and won the game for his side. Hopefully, it would give the boy a welcome ego-boost when they returned to the Santa Monica Wolverines.
The plane landed without incident and the family of four passed through Customs easily, with a warm welcome "back to your homeland" from the friendly agent who stamped their passports.
Erin and Robin were waiting for them on the other side of Passport control and soon they were on the way to the MacDonald's old farmhouse near the little hamlet of Boston. It was an extremely warm day, so they ate breakfast outside and spent the day relaxing and adjusting to the time change on the deck by the pool.
"Ash is sorry she can't be here; there's a lot she wants to get done at the distillery before she gets back into university mode," Erin told CJ. "But she and Brian are really looking forward to seeing you when you go over to Scotland."
"What's happening on that front?" CJ asked, taking a sip of her iced tea.
"It's all in my daughter's hands," Robin laughed. "She insists she wants to wait until she's done with the degree and the residency and is board-certified before getting married. They don't live together officially, but he's with her at the distillery. Angus is still there, of course, and Sorcha has moved in also. Poor Brian came to me about 14 months ago, to let me know that his intentions were 'eternally honorable', as he put it; it was right after Ciara said something about 'seeing Brian kiss Aunt Ash's pee-pee'. He says he'll marry our daughter as soon as she gives the word. He wanted me to convince her to at least accept a ring. Fiona, of all people, is totally on his side, frets about 'not knowing what might happen tomorrow', that sort of thing. But Aisling just smiles, laughs, and says that she knows that she and Brian have all the time in the world. Sorcha nods in agreement, so I assume that they are right."
"How is Fee doing with this baby?"
"Much better than she was with Ciara at this stage," Erin answered. "Hardly any morning sickness at all. She's given up on her tennis but she still walks a lot and still rows on the lake and the river. They'll be up here tonight, and then we have the engagement party for Brendan's niece on Friday down in Kerry."
"And nothing else, right? Except church?" Danny asked. "The kids are too young for any real sightseeing and we really want to catch up with you guys."
Friday, July 15; late afternoon
"Daddy! Mama hair like me!"
Danny looked up at the sound of Caitlin's voice.
CJ and Caitlin had come out of the house and onto the deck where Danny, Robin, and Paddy were waiting for "the womenfolk". ("It takes them longer to get ready," Robin told his nephew, "but they look much better than we do when all is said and done!")
Mother and daughter were wearing matching sundresses in a print that reminded Danny of the gowns that CJ, Donna, Bonnie, Margaret, and Ginger wore for Carol's wedding, except that this fabric was not a sheer voile but a light opaque cotton that didn't need lining. ("There was no way I would be able to sew a dress with a lining," CJ said when Danny asked. "I'm lucky that I was able to do this much.") Their lime green flip-flops picked up the dominant color of the print.
Then Danny raised his glance. CJ had borrowed some rollers, or maybe a curling iron, and had fashioned her hair – a light auburn with red-gold highlights this month – in ringlets to match the bright red curls that Danny had given to his girl-child. Danny was reminded of the primary, the campaign, and the early months of Jed Bartlet's first year in the White House, when CJ was wearing her hair that way. Personally, he liked her hair straight and slightly below her shoulders. For one thing, it brought back memories of the last months of 2006, when the two of them consummated the dance that had been going on between the two of them for eight years. For another, the sensation of her hair across his groin when she loved him with her mouth was extremely erotic. Hopefully, CJ would not let Caitlin talk her into making a more permanent adjustment to her hairstyle. Maybe he should let CJ know of his preference; he was pretty sure that he would have more pull than a not yet four year-old.
"The two of you are absolutely gorgeous," Danny told them. "You will outshine the bride-to-be at her own party."
Sunday, July 17; the Scottish highlands near Inverness; mid-afternoon
"Now you be a good girl for your godmother, sweetie-cakes," CJ said as she knelt down to hug Caitlin, "and we'll see you on Tuesday." Then she and Danny got in the waiting car. The family had flown over from Ireland to spend a few days at the distillery and then attend part of the MacDonald clan gathering. But CJ and Danny were also going to spend two nights at their honeymoon island.
"I'll be good," Caitlin said, looking up to her pretty cousin, "want go with them."
"We can't go," Paddy told his sister. "Mama and Daddy are going to their honeymoon place, where they went when they got married."
"Where did we go then, Paddy?"
"We didn't go anywhere because we weren't born yet. Daddy says we were just twinkles."
"What's twinkles?"
Brian Stewart laughed out loud, picked up the little girl, and swung her round in a circle. "Twinkles are magical looks in a man's eyes that sometimes can turn into little girls or little boys, when that man is with the woman he loves. Sometimes it takes a while, like it did with you and Paddy." Then Brian looked over to Aisling and smiled. Someday, when Aisling was ready, Brian hoped that he and she would turn one of his twinkles into a little red-haired beauty like the one he was holding.
"On Tuesday morning, you'll go to get your Mama and Daddy and spend some time there," Aisling told the children. "It's a very special place, like something out of a fairy tale. In the meantime, we can have a lot of fun here. There's a long hallway that we can slide on in our socks and a nice wooden banister that's better than a sliding board."
"And lots of toys from when my grandfather was your age. And Sandy in the kitchen has baked lots of cookies for you," Brian told the youngsters. "And tomorrow I'll take you to Loch Ness and we can go on a boat and maybe we can see the monster."
"Have you ever seen the monster, Brian?" Paddy asked excitedly. He hoped they would be able to see it. Then he could brag to Noah about it. And it would probably be the best story when school started and he and his classmates would have to talk about what they did over the summer.
"Monsters scary! No!" Caitlin started to cry.
"Ah, no, little one, not all monsters. And not Nessie. Nessie is a wee friendly monster, not a scary one."
"Honest truth?" Caitlin asked.
Please God, Brian prayed silently, please give us one or two like this little one when Aisling and I start our family.
"Honest truth," Brian answered. "Now, let's go get some of those cookies."
About thirty-five miles away, CJ and Danny waved to the driver and turned to the boat dock.
"I see they've got a motor in case you're too old to row me to the island," CJ observed as Danny put their two small duffle bags in the boat.
"Well, woman, you have a choice. I can row over to the island and take a nap or I can use the motor and then use my energy in a more interesting way."
Arriving on the island and entering the little house, CJ and Danny discovered that there had been a few more changes made to their honeymoon hideaway in the last nine years. There was a state-of-the-art home entertainment theatre with a good selection of movies and music. The bath in the master suite was now a luxury spa experience with jets, benches, etc. in the hydro-massage shower and a deep, double-wide whirlpool jet tub. The kitchen appliances were now commerical top chef grade, but, as CJ said, "The way this refrigerator is stocked with pre-prepared chicken, roast, and other stuff, the only thing we'll be using is the ice dispenser and a couple of pots and pans for breakfast and to reheat things."
"So, why don't we fill this champagne bucket, grab some glasses and some of that fruit and brie, go upstairs, and let me put this unexpended energy to use," Danny answered, letting his lips and his hands demonstrate exactly what he intended to do once they reached the bedroom.
With the place completely to themselves (no cook or housekeeper to invade their privacy), CJ and Danny spent the time in a light-weight shift for her and cotton boxers for him – that is, when they weren't in their birthday suits. Like newlyweds, their time consisted of napping, loving, and eating.
The weather continued to cooperate with no rain and lots of sunny warmth. On Monday night, they took the mattress from the smaller bedroom, put it on the balcony outside the master suite, and after making slow, sweet glorious love, watched the brilliantly star-lit sky in satiated after-glow.
"It's just so amazing!" CJ said. "I can't remember the last time I've seen a sky so dark. Even in Albion, we get lights from the neighbors. Maybe that Christmas with Siobhan and Liam on Mackinac."
"Or Norway, when you got the prize. Or Tassajera, after we lost the twins." Danny stopped to control breaking in his voice as he remembered the tragedy. "We've done so much, grown so much, learned so much in the past nine years," Danny said, punctuating the phrases with kisses on her eyes and cheeks. "God, I love you."
"Show me, Danny. Show me."
Tuesday, July 19; mid-afternoon
"Bye, fairy castle!" Caitlin exclaimed as Danny eased the boat away from the dock.
Earlier in the day, two of the distillery workers had dropped off the kids and a car so the family could enjoy the day together on the island before returning to the manor house. Paddy and Caitlin told them about their time with Aisling in the distillery, helping to blend whiskey ("But we weren't allowed to taste it."), and their trip to the Loch, with Paddy expressing disappointment and Caitlin relief that the legendary resident of the deep water had not been sighted.
Both children enjoyed the island's pool, the gardens, and the woods with its wildlife, but Caitlin was also enthralled by the little stone and wood house. She used all her little-girl wiles to try to convince Danny that the four of them should spend the night on the island before finally and reluctantly accepting her Daddy's explanation that it just wasn't possible, and, anyway, Aisling and Brian were expecting them.
The four of them drove back to the manor, with CJ and the kids shrieking when Danny (twice) turned into the wrong lane and had to quickly get into the left-side lane in order to avoid the oncoming car.
"Thank God it's just a country road," Danny laughed. "I'd be a lethal weapon on a real highway.
They reached the manor without further incident, where Aisling and Brian were waiting for them.
"Uncle Danny, Aunt CJ, your things are in the second bedroom on the left," Aisling said. "Brian is cooking his world famous shrimp scampi tonight and Sandy made this unbelievable dessert. Angus and Sorcha went to a funeral visitation in Inverness; we'll wait for them to get back. So we have no real plans until seven or so. You can go take a nap, use the pool, read, watch TV, or join me in a walk to work off some calories in anticipation of the glut tonight!"
"Well, the kids wore me out, so I'm for the nap," CJ said, heading toward the stairs.
Danny followed her, somewhat reluctantly. It hadn't crossed his mind that Aisling would put CJ and him in the same room that had been Brianna's, the same room in which Brianna had made a man of him so many years ago. Entering the room, he took a quick inventory. The room had been repainted, with new bed linens and curtains. The mattress had definitely been replaced; it was one of the newer extra deep ones. Would his memories affect his ability to make love to his wife in this room? He didn't know; what he did know is that he had to tell CJ. Nine years together, nine years of talking, of sharing, and, sometimes, of fighting. He wanted more, many more, and the way to ensure that was to continue to talk and to share.
"CJ, I need to tell you," he started, turning around, and then stopped at the sound of her soft snoring.
Danny eased himself onto the bed. Later, he promised himself.
Midnight
Danny pulled the light-weight blanket up to his shoulders. Turning his arm, he gently pulled CJ back against his chest and kissed her shoulder. She stayed asleep, but muscle memory caused her to stir a bit and to snuggle her butt back into Danny's groin. Danny lightly traced the dried tear track on CJ's cheek that glistened silver in the moonlight.
The first phone call had come at 9:30, a few hours ago, from a tearful Bonnie. Helen Santos was dead. The former First Couple had been in Houston for a few days; the commission for Matt's presidential library was in the home stretch of the planning stage. That morning, Helen felt a little under the weather, tired and queasy, and decided to stay in bed with ginger ale, saltines, and daytime television. Matt returned in the early afternoon to find his wife lifeless in the bed, the remote control still in her hand. The funeral Mass and burial would be on Friday, in Houston, of course.
"It's still preliminary, but the medical examiner thinks it was a heart defect that Helen had since birth, never diagnosed," Bonnie said. Apparently, the autopsy had been given top priority. "And, apparently, Helen was three weeks' pregnant. It's just so sad, so totally and utterly sad."
Donna called a few minutes after Bonnie had rung first, the two of them shared their memories of the woman who grew into the role her husband's fate imposed upon her. CJ told Donna about Helen meeting the White House staff for the first time and Donna told CJ about her conversation with Helen in the back yard at the Houston house.
"I'm so devastated, CJ. There was never any hint, any sign, that Helen had any problems. Josh says that the doctors want Matt to have the kids tested, to see if there is anything they might have inherited from their mom. Excuse me," Donna choked back some tears. CJ could hear Josh in the background, making comforting sounds. Then CJ heard his voice come over the phone.
"She's really upset, CJ; she could use her friends. Travel safe; we'll see you in a day or so. My love to the kids and my best to Danny."
CJ was flying back for the funeral, of course. The Foundation was scheduling one of its jets to pick up several directors and senior staffers in Europe. Danny had said he would go with her; the others would love taking care of the kids for a few days and he wanted to be there to support his wife. But CJ felt it would be better if he stayed in Scotland. She knew how much he had been looking forward to the MacDonald clan gathering; she also felt that as much as Paddy and Caitlin loved their aunt, uncle, cousins, and "kissing cousins", they would still feel a little lost without a parent with them.
CJ stirred again and Danny became aware of the pleasant sensations stirring in his genitals. Nine years ago, that pleasant sensation would have been followed, rather quickly, by rock-hard arousal and the need for relief. Even now, Danny knew that had he wished, he could have kissed CJ's neck until she awoke and that when she felt the firm pressure of his erection against her backside, she would have dealt with his need. She might have turned to face him and pulled him to her, or, whispering "Come to me", turned onto her stomach. But most likely, she would have merely shifted her upper leg to allow him access. And, sheathing himself in her wet warmth, he would pull her closer to him, his fingers dancing in well-learned patterns on the central core buried in her folds. They were well practiced after all these years and satisfaction would come quickly to both of them. A few more kisses and murmurs of love and they would drift back to sleep, the head of his now flaccid penis still just inside the mouth of her vagina, until unconscious movement on the part of one of them would dislodge it.
Yes, it would be easy to escalate the situation, but, if he chose, Danny could also enjoy the warm, fuzzy feeling of CJ's butt on his balls and leave fulfillment to a move convenient time. And this time, that was his choice.
Danny felt a slight rush of warm air on his groin and immediately picked up on a faint scent of the ultra-rich flourless chocolate cake that had been dessert. He smiled, remembering the first time he had done that in her presence, remembering the rush of warmth to his face and chest as he blushed as red as his hair – or at least his remembrance of what his hair had been in younger times – and apologized profusely for the faux pas. It was a week or so before Matt Santos' swearing in, a few days after the weekend with Erin and Robin. CJ had laughed, that delighted, amusing laugh Danny had first heard when he stood in the doorway of her office holding a fishbowl.
"Danny, if all this works out the way you say it will and the way I hope it will, you and I are going to do a lot of natural body things in each other's company. I don't expect you to hold it in, or go to the next room; I certainly don't plan to."
And, naturally, she was right. Passing gas in front of each other was the least of it. Over the years, they had nursed each other through bouts of diarrhea and vomiting. There had even been the one time her period came early, right in the middle of a very intimate erotic act on his part.
After this trip, their lives would change again. Frank Hollis had not, as yet, said anything to CJ, had not asked anything of CJ. But Danny didn't need his Celtic DNA to tell him that Matt Santos would need time before he was able to resume his role as head of "Road to a Better World" (if, indeed, he ever was able to do so) and that none of the others, Glenn Walken, Mrs. Vinick, were able to do so. No, there was only one person who could step right in and take up the reins of the Hollis Foundation's most ambitious project, and that person was the one who had just farted on his balls.
They would talk about it, Danny knew, the way they had talked about everything ever since that night in early January 2007 when he had pulled her back from the brink, stopped her from taking that leap off the cliff by herself. He and CJ would decide how to handle the times when she would need to be away from the house, either in San Luis Obispo or in Santiago, Sudan, or Samarkand (did Samarkand still exist, he wondered?) and he was involved in his classes or his ever-increasing duties as part of the USC faculty senate. Paddy was growing more independent and he might or might not remember the early days when his Mama was away, sometimes for two weeks at a time, but there were still times when a boy needed his mother; Caitlin, of course, had never really known that life, except for two or three days in the past year or so. But children were resilient and, he hoped, Paddy and Caitlin had a sound sense of parental security. He and CJ were also blessed with their neighbors, their friends.
He and CJ would also make the required adjustments to their own relationship. Did she still have the "battery-operated boyfriend" he had half-jokingly, half-seriously given her in those early years when the two of them were apart for weeks at a time? Maybe he should buy her a new one after the trip, he told himself, and then hurriedly swallowed the laugh that might have awakened her.
As he drifted back into sleep, Danny pulled CJ a little closer into his arms. He whispered a little prayer for Matt Santos, hoping that God would never ask of him what He was asking of the former president – to go on living and to raise his children without the presence of the woman who was his life. Nine years, no matter how wonderful, were nowhere near enough.