Twenty-first Century Man
CJ/Danny
Rating Adult –
Spoilers through end of series
Not mine, never were, never will be, but they consume my soul
Feedback and criticism always welcomed
To my knowledge, Vicky Chicky does not exist, but, then, I don't work for a toy manufacturer nor do I watch Saturday morning children's programming. Maybe I should apply for a patent just in case ?
December 20, 2016; Los Angeles International Airport; 2:15 PM PST
Danny Concannon pushed "redial" on his mobile as he passed by the sign warning him that he was leaving the secured area of the airport. Once again, he received a busy signal and once again, CJ (or whoever was on the land-line) was not picking up on the "call waiting" signal. Danny decided against trying CJ's mobile a third time. Traffic would be relatively light at this time of day and he should be home shortly.
It had been a last-minute call to take part in a symposium at Berkeley, a request to fill in for a colleague whose father-in-law had died. Danny's grades for the fall semester were already filed, and CJ had no Hollis commitments until ML King Weekend, so there was no problem with Danny helping out for a few days. Danny had flown up Sunday afternoon, leaving his car at the long-term lot and now he caught the shuttle to retrieve it and head home.
On the drive, he briefly wondered about the long phone call. Paddy and Maggie had discovered the telephone a few weeks ago, and he, CJ, and the Muñoz' had found it necessary to restrict the two second graders to three calls a week, but today was the last day at school until after the new year and the kids should just be getting out for the break.
Thirty minutes later, Danny walked into the courtyard and saw Frank and Diana sitting in the family room with CJ. After kissing his wife, Danny looked around at the others.
"What's up?"
"A major crisis of sorts at the school, honey," CJ told him. "I sort of got elected parent point person; that's why I didn't answer when you called. One of the fifth-graders, Quentin Knight, decided to let all the first and second graders know that there was no Santa Claus, no Easter Bunny, no Tooth Fairy, that it was all a 'big hoax by grownups on dumb little kids', to use his exact words. For some of the younger ones, the parents were able to convince the kids that Quentin was just being mean, but for kids like Paddy and Maggie, well - ".
"Maggie has been asking some questions," Diana added, "and you know that the two of them are incapable of keeping anything from the other, except for things like birthday and Christmas gifts".
"And Paddy has had the same questions," Danny said, "but I think that we managed to find reasonable answers, at least for now. I know that this might be the last year, or that maybe even they were letting us think they still believed because maybe they thought that if we knew they didn't believe, they wouldn't get toys anymore, just clothes. But I really wanted him to learn the truth at his own pace. I know I'm a middle-aged man, but part of me wants to throttle this Quentin kid."
"Don't worry," Frank said with a laugh. "Mike took care of that. And managed to get himself a week's worth of detention, and probation for the rest of the school year, in the process. Mr. and Mrs. Knight actually had the temerity to ask me what further 'punishment' I intended to, and I quote, 'inflict on your brat', for beating up their little darling. I told them that it was none of their business. Mike told me that he would take whatever I decided but that sometimes, a guy has to do what a guy has to do and he wasn't sorry for what he did. I told him that he broke the school rules by fighting and that he had to face up to the school's discipline, but, as far as I was concerned, it was justified."
"Most of the parents wanted some disciplinary action taken against Quentin, but, as the principal said, the only thing he was guilty of was being an a-hole," CJ added. "Anyway, we brought them here and tried to explain that in some sense, the spirit of Santa is what is more important, but the two of them just said they wanted to be alone for a while. They're in Paddy's room."
"What about Caitlin?" Danny asked.
"I took her over to Hank and Steve's before Frank brought the kids home. She has no idea what is going on."
"I think we should get going," Diana said. "I'm going to get Maggie now."
Danny followed Diana to Paddy's room and after the Muñoz family left, he sat down next to his son.
"So. I guess we have a lot to talk about."
The little boy just shrugged his shoulders.
"Listen, buddy, why don't you and I take a walk down to the beach and we can talk, man to man?" Danny suggested.
"Can Destiny come too?"
"I don't know. Can she?"
That brought a small smile to Paddy's face.
"May Destiny come with us, Daddy?"
"I don't see why not."
Fifteen minutes later, Danny and Paddy were walking just outside of the surf while Destiny darted in and out of the low-level waves.
"Okay," Danny said. "Do you want me to start or do you want to start?"
"Why do big people tell lies like this? You and Mama have always told me to tell the truth."
"I'm not really sure how it started, Paddy, except that Santa Claus is based on a real person. St. Nicholas was real. I can help you find all sorts of articles online about his life, and the people that he helped. There are all sorts of stories about how he brought little gifts of candy and toys to boys and girls in Holland. And we will do that later. Somehow, over the years, the legend developed in its current form.
"But what I want you to understand, is that parents and other grownups perpetuate the legend out of love, because of the joy it brings to children. And, maybe, also because the idea of something miraculous like a single man being able to deliver toys to children all over the world, in a flying sleigh pulled by reindeer, is a fantasy that appeals to that part of us that wants to believe in miracles."
"But if parents have to buy the presents, what about the boys and girls whose families are poor? It doesn't seem fair to make those kids think they are getting things when their folks can't buy them. It would make those kids think that Santa didn't think they were good enough, Daddy."
Danny's heart swelled at the thought of his son, only seven years old, would think of those other children.
"Well, a lot of parents will save up during the year, give up buying some of the things they want, or work an extra job to get the things for their kids. Plus, there are a lot of other people who donate money to help those parents. When children mail letters to Santa, there are people who read them and try to help the kids whose parents can't afford toys."
"Why, Daddy? Why do people do that if the kids don't know?" Paddy looked up at his father. He really wanted to understand.
"Because it makes them feel good to make someone else happy. Don't you feel good when you get a present for Mama, or Caitlin, or Maggie, or me?"
"Yes, but you all thank me. I like being thanked."
"But when you buy a present for Destiny, does she thank you? Does she know about Christmas and Santa?" Danny asked his son. When Paddy shook his head from side to side, Danny continued. "So why?"
"Because making her happy makes me happy."
"I know. And, in a very real sense, Paddy, Santa is real, not with a body, but as a spirit, something like an angel. The idea of Santa binds together many, many people to do what the idea of Santa is all about. In a sense, we are Santa's body. You know, there is a prayer by St. Teresa, the one from Spain, that says that right now, Jesus needs our hands and feet to do His work. That's the way it is with Santa. He's in heaven and we do his work. Does that make sense?"
"Sort of; I guess," Paddy said.
"Paddy, sooner or later, you and Maggie would have figured this out on your own. But it was horribly mean of Quentin to spoil it for you and the others before you were ready. In one sense, I can't agree with what Mike did, beating him up, but I can totally understand it. It's what a guy does because he loves his little sister. So you need to make sure that Caitlin doesn't find out, not until she is ready. You'll need to pretend that you still believe, in front of her. It's part of growing up. Do you think you can do that for your sister? And for all the other little kids here and at school?"
"So I'd be like a grown up?"
"Well, it's a start. But there's a lot more you have to learn and a lot more years in which to learn it.
"It's getting late. I think we should start back."
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"Could we get some ice cream on the way back?"
"I don't know. Mama might not want us to spoil supper," Danny said.
"But one small cone won't hurt. It would be like eating dessert first," Paddy replied.
"You know, you're right. Sometimes you eat dessert first."
Christmas morning
"Look, Mama! Santa got me Vicky Chicky!"
"I see! You are one lucky little girl, Caitlin!"
Danny exchanged smiles with his wife. Someday, (hopefully a long time from now), Danny intended to ask God if there was any rhyme or reason behind what became the "must have" toy each holiday season. Although, he reasoned, a toy stuffed chicken that was loaded, and could be reloaded, with little eggs that the chicken's microchip would "randomly" lay, and whose eggs, also equipped with microchips, would at some point hatch into little stuffed peeps, was not the world's worst idea. And he and CJ had only had to go to five stores this year in order to obtain 2016's version of the Holy Grail.
"Thank you, Mama; thank you, Daddy," Paddy said quietly as Caitlin tore open another box, this one containing a toy incubator for Vicky Chicky's progeny, "sold separately" of course.
Danny sighed.
For the first eight or nine minutes, it was as if the events of Tuesday had not occurred. Paddy had run to the tree in the family room as quickly and excitedly as his little sister. He was overjoyed to see the new bike, one that could accommodate his growing height, and the personalized Louisville Slugger ™ wooden bat, but by the time he got to the box containing the Notre Dame football helmet with its coat of 24K gold, Danny could see the memory of the disillusion Paddy, Maggie, and the others had suffered creeping back into the little boy's eyes.
Danny wanted, more than anything, to pick up his son and hold him in a tight embrace, but he instinctively knew that Paddy needed to be treated like the slowly maturing young man who had emerged four days ago. Danny put his hand on Paddy's shoulder.
"You're welcome, son."
"Mama! What did Santa bring you?" Caitlin asked, having opened all her "Santa" presents.
CJ and Danny always wrapped two or three of the gifts they gave each other as being from St. Nick in order to make things seem more real to the kids, so CJ showed her daughter the soft cashmere sweater that brought out the blue in her eyes and the citrine-studded goldfish-shaped hair combs.
Then it was time to open the presents from each other, the ones from the McDonald's, from Randy and Gina, and from Mitch and Allison.
Paddy opened his present labeled "from Daddy". It was a wallet in brown leather, not one with Mickey or Batman on it.
"Thank you, Daddy."
"Well, I figured that a big kid needed a grown-up wallet, son."
Then Paddy saw the dull green paper inside the wallet and opened it.
"Danny?" CJ whispered as she saw the collection of fives and tens. "There must be one hundred-".
"A guy needs to have his own spending money, love," Danny replied. "I'll speak to him about how best to save, to budget. And we'll have rules about what he can and can't buy without our approval. Like it or not, our son is growing up."
Then, he turned to Paddy.
"I wanted to thank you for keeping up appearances for Caitlin, and the other little ones," he said softly. "I'm proud of you."
Thursday, December 29; mid-afternoon
Danny took a deep breath and told himself to stay strong.
As he entered his den and caught sight of his daughter, looking so small as she sat in one of the big club chairs, he almost lost his resolve.
Normally, CJ and he handled disciplinary situations jointly. They wanted to avoid too much mother versus father stereotyping with their children. It was very unfortunate that the nature of this particular incident required that Danny handle the situation himself, especially because the nature of this particular incident required that the repercussions for Caitlin be taken to a new level.
Danny sat down on the love seat across from his little girl.
"I'm very disappointed in you, Caitlin."
"I know, Daddy, I shouldn't have done it. But I really wanted to watch the rest of that story about mast- mast-".
"Mastodons," Danny provided her with the word she couldn't quite remember. Sometimes, he wondered where Caitlin got her fascination with ancient earth history.
"But Mama needed to leave for her appointment with Dr. Scott and you needed to go over to Miss Jessica's."
"But it was just a few more minutes! She didn't need to shut the TV off right away!"
"And you certainly didn't need to kick her in the legs, Caitlin! Why would you ever want to hurt your mother, child?" Danny asked.
"I don't know," Caitlin sighed. Then she looked down at her hands and back up at Danny. She told herself it was time to face the music, whatever that really meant. The sooner she started, the sooner it would be over. "I'll go to my room now for time out until you come get me." She started to slip out of the chair.
"Just a minute, young lady. A time out is not enough to pay for what you did. Sometimes, when you do something really bad, you have to face more painful penalties."
Caitlin stopped in her tracks and turned around to face Danny and the man could see fear creeping into her eyes.
"You won't be going to the circus tomorrow afternoon with Uncle Hank and the others; you'll stay home and help me with the laundry while Mama and Paddy go with everyone else."
"But I really wanted to see the lions and tigers, Daddy."
Danny could see the tears forming in her eyes and fought to keep his eyes from reacting the same way, and he knelt down so that his face was on a level with hers.
"I know. Caitlin, I don't like doing this, but I need to make you realize how bad what you did to your Mama really was. Do you understand that I don't like hurting you?"
"I guess so," Caitlin sighed. Then she put her arms around Danny's neck. "It's okay. And you aren't hurting me, not really. Sometimes, when someone doesn't like what you do, they can really, really hurt you."
Later, Danny discussed the incident with CJ.
"I can't stop thinking about what she said. I'm sure she was talking about physical stuff and I'm bothered about it. None of the folks on the block spank, at least not on a regular basis, and even if they felt the need, I can't imagine any of them punishing a child in view, or hearing, of anyone else."
"Do you think there might be something happening at the day care?" CJ asked.
"Well, we've both dropped in unannounced several times, but maybe we should call some of the other parents."
Later, they checked with Paddy, to see if Caitlin had said anything to her big brother.
"Not really. I did tell her about what not to do so you wouldn't spank her." Seeing their puzzled spaces, he explained about the "kids' conference" two years ago at Cape May. "So, when Noah told us that Aunt Donna had spanked him, Leo called a meeting, and we decided that we should never tell a lie about doing something bad, we should never say a mean thing to any grown up, and that we should never, ever hurt an animal. Caitlin wasn't there, but I told her about it last year. Was that okay? I am her big brother and I'm supposed to take care of her."
Danny smiled at the idea of Leo's namesake organizing all the "Bartlet kids" and told his son that of course it was okay. Danny told himself that having had to spank Paddy once was one time too many and that if he never had to put another hand on Paddy's butt, or Caitlin's, it would be a good thing.
Over the next few days, CJ called some of the other daycare parents, and both Danny and CJ talked with the neighbors, but nothing came up to explain where Caitlin got the idea that someone would use physical pain as discipline, other than what Paddy had already told them.
January 29, 2017; Nazareth, KY; 6:45 AM EST
Danny slipped out of bed, pulled on his robe, grabbed his key, and, opening the door to his room, walked down the hall to the communal bathroom.
On the way back, he glanced down the hall and saw that although it was still dark, the sky was bright with stars; the new moon had been two days ago and there was a thin sliver of silver hanging among the pinpoints of light. They would be leaving Kentucky in much better weather than they had experienced on Friday when they arrived.
The Los Angeles archdiocese wanted to evaluate a program for men, "The Catholic Husband and Father in the Twenty-first Century", and had asked Danny and two others to fly east to attend and evaluate.
Adrian Clay, at twenty-six, was the youngest of the three, but as the only priest (all of nine months), he commandeered the rental car at Louisville's airport and insisted he knew where he was going. What should have been at most an hour drive took over two hours, partly because of the rain and partly because Adrian didn't know that the location of the former motherhouse was really in Bardstown; Nazareth was a holdover name from earlier years.
In any event, Jerry Spencer, the seventy year-old from Sepulveda, and Danny insisted that they stop at a Subway for sandwiches and sodas in case all the hot food had already been stored, and they arrived at the retreat site wet, tired, and hungry.
Jerry said, "Please forgive me, but this is just too rich", and broke out into song.
"Pulled into Nazareth, feeling' 'bout half-past dead."
Danny groaned; Adrian looked puzzled.
Now, forty hours later, Danny returned to his room and began to fill out the evaluation form for the conference.
He decided to do the easy parts first and turned to the section on the accommodations and other physical aspects of the event.
The bed was comfortable, the room warm and well-lit. There was a comfortable easy chair and a desk for any writing. The communal bath and restroom weren't the best choices in the world, but Danny knew that the building was designed to hold many nuns, novices, and postulants back when the order was thriving, some fifty or sixty years ago. There was no individual internet access, just two computers on the first floor that could be used to check email, but, then, if one was coming here for a retreat, one was supposed to leave the world behind, at least for a while.
The meals were simple and good. Coffee, milk, juice, fruit, and cookies were available twenty-four hours a day in the dining hall.
The grounds, once home to a boarding school and a four-year girls' (at that time) college as well as the order's motherhouse, were well-kept, with walking paths to several grottoes, shrines, and the chapel. Notre Dame it wasn't, but maybe Danny was prejudiced.
That was the easy part of the evaluation. Now came the hard part – the retreat topic itself.
Danny was not an overly proud man, but neither was he overly modest. As far as he was concerned, he could have done a much better job planning and conducting the conference.
For one thing, being a twenty-first century husband presupposed having a twenty-first century wife, and for the past ten years, Danny had been blessed with such a creature.
Danny was confident that he had been the right man at the right time for CJ and that he had adjusted to whatever she wanted and/or needed over the past decade, and even before.
For eight years, Danny had played the consummate suitor, always making sure that CJ knew he loved her without crossing the line into stalkerdom. The night of the San Andreo accident, when he had asked her to face the future with him, Danny was nervous but he was reasonably confident that had CJ's beeper not gone off, her answer would have been "yes". He had been willing to wait for January 21, but when Leo died and CJ's White House world came crashing down around her feet, he responded to her need to defy death with sex. And when she needed someone to tell her that it wasn't too late, that she hadn't missed the window, when she needed him to take charge of their relationship, he was masculine without being overly macho.
When Frank Hollis asked her to save the world, he helped her be the epitome of everything Betty Friedan, Gloria Steinem, and NOW ever imagined. When Caitlin came along and she wanted to chuck everything except for motherhood, he took over the 1950's breadwinner role without taking on the 1950's lord and master role.
And now that CJ was moving back into philanthropic management, Danny was adjusting once more to the changes in their lives, balancing being a man with being an equal partner.
One thing Danny was sure of – after ten years of marriage, he was more in love than ever with one Claudia Jean Gabrielle Cregg Concannon. Four days from now, he intended to ask her again to marry him, to renew their vows at the end of May. He had already asked Hank to help him design a band of pearls, topaz, and emeralds – the stones for their birthdays, their children's birthdays, including Cosmas and Damian, and the month of their wedding – to put next to her wedding band. He had made plans to take her to Australia, to the Whitsunday Island area, to have the honeymoon she had wanted.
When the discussion turned to the more physical aspects of marriage, Danny felt that the topic was treated as well as could be expected. One of the presenters was still discovering the "have sex every night, or almost every night" movement that had sprung up in some of the other churches almost ten years ago; a second presenter felt that the practice could lead to "using one's wife". Other than observing that a sensitive husband of any century would be respectful of the last few weeks of pregnancy and the first few weeks after birth, and also of any physical and mental issues related to a wife's menstrual cycle, Danny kept out of the discussion. He and CJ had been intimate for most of the nights of their marriage. Then again, the two of them had spent more time apart than a normal couple does, and then there were the months when they were trying for Caitlin, but Danny felt that he and CJ had been living the spirit of the movement quite nicely, and would hopefully continue to do so for the foreseeable future. There had been that one incident about two months ago, right before one of CJ's trips, when he "couldn't", but a quick appointment with his urologist verified that there was nothing wrong with him, and when CJ came home, everything was in perfect working order. The doctor was fairly confident that Danny wouldn't need any "help" in the immediate future, but made sure that Danny knew that if the little pills were ever needed, there was no need for distress or embarrassment.
Of course, Danny and CJ weren't exactly young lovers when they first became intimate, but over the past few years, he was aware of no longer being able to respond as quickly a second or third time. This could have been a problem as there were often times when CJ clearly was in a multi-orgasmic state, but with age also came endurance, and watching CJ's face, or feeling the spasms of her body, as he took her up and down as many times as she needed, made the final one, when he would release with her, that much more wonderful.
Danny knew that raising children took a village, and the two of them relied on their neighbors, on his and CJ's siblings and spouses, on Josh, Donna, Sam, Morgan, the others, especially the Bartlet's, and the church to help them with Paddy and Caitlin. What he didn't need was someone telling him to teach what he and CJ considered less than Christian attitudes to the kids. When the couple who were leading the session on explaining homosexuality to children dithered about "telling them to respect the sinner while detesting the sin", Danny made his objections known. His children, he told the group, accepted that "Uncle Hank" and "Uncle Steve" loved each other the way Mama and Daddy loved each other and sometimes it happened that way. Listening to the criticisms from some of the other participants, some of whom wondered why a man who held such views was in a leadership role at St. Monica's, Danny told them that he had expressed the same views to the Pope himself, so he wasn't about to hide them now. In terms of his own children, he was pretty sure that his son's reaction to girls indicated a heterosexual nature; should that change, he would accept the situation, and love whatever man loved his son. Ditto for his daughter.
Danny sighed again as he read over his evaluation, which he would get photocopied so he could file a report back in California. He wished he could recommend that the archdiocese develop their own program, but he knew that having sent three men to this retreat, it would be viewed as plagiarism. When Danny got home, he would type up his notes and suggest that those in charge of such things request modifications to the program before using it in LA.
6:15 PM PST; Los Angeles International Airport
This time, when Danny called the house, CJ answered on the second ring.
7:00 PM PST; Santa Monica, CA
This time, the only excitement and hullabaloo that Danny encountered when he had walked in the door was that of one wife, two kids, and one dog being very happy to see him – and, at least on the part of the kids, the presents he brought back with him.
Danny turned to CJ as the kids ran off with their souvenirs from Kentucky. He pulled her into his arms, eager to greet her with more intimacy than he had about five minutes ago when he walked in the door (but with less intimacy than he had planned for a few hours from now, when they were behind their bedroom door.)
"So, how is my twenty-first century husband?" CJ murmured against his throat.
"Extremely happy to be back with the twenty-first century love of my life."