Title: HEAVEN AND
HELL, "The Grid Iron
Dinner" (Chapter
Nine)
Authors: Enigmatic Ellie and
Westwinger247
Webpage: http://wing_nuts.tripod.com
Notes: This is the sequel to THE QUEST. Thanks to
those of you
who followed us from one series to the next.
Donna lay awake most of the night, puzzled and worried by Josh's reaction. Or rather, but his non-reaction. She continued to be distracted by it through the next day. Did he not hear? Did he not understand? Did he not care? Was he relieved by the news?
None of the prospects encouraged her. She wasn't sure how, but she was going to need to speak with him, at length, to find out. She feared, however, she would not get the chance any time soon as she looked at his schedule for the week. There was a slim chance he would be available that evening after his afternoon meeting with the House Minority Whip ended in raised decibels on both sides. The obligatory 24 hour cooling off period would kick in and allow Donna some time on the schedule for the evening. She violated their personal protocol informing him that his wife needed to leave after a simple 10-hour day. As she gracious left that evening around 7 to complete her settling process at the apartment, she asked him to not stay late so that they could discuss a personal matter before the morning. Though at first she was not convinced he was listening, he looked up from his briefing memo and then nodded and agreed before swiftly returning to his reading.
*****************
The evening rolled on and Josh finished a report for Leo and finished prepping for his day with the President the next day. He had just dropped two memos on Charlie's desk for the President and was heading back down the hall when he was accosted.
"Ha!" she snapped and grabbed his arm to turn him around. "I have been looking for you."
"Zoey," Josh said with raise eyebrows.
"Yes, come with me," she said tugging him on the arm.
"No," he said instantly then back peddled. "Where?"
"Josh," she commanded. "Come with me."
"Again, no," he said casually. "What do you want?"
"I want you to come with me," she said as though he was dull. "I think that should have been evident in the way I said: Josh, come with me."
"Don't you have studying to do or something," Josh replied. "For like school or something?"
"No, I do not," she lied. "Finals are four weeks away and I'm not worried."
"Really?" Josh smirked. "Well, you should let your father know that. He would be impress-..."
"Stop," she silenced him as she let go of his arm and fixed him with an exasperated glare. "I got a new car. I want to show it to you."
"The President already did," Josh answered, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. "A picture of it anyway. It was the first item on the agenda at Senior Staff this morning."
"Josh!"
"It was," he said truthfully. "He let us know how much he hates the car and that he'd pay any one of us to steal it and see that it's never found."
"He'd prefer it if I drove a
"That might offer some protection, but parking it would be a pain, and I'd bet the mileage isn't so great," Josh responded.
"It's my first car, and I love it," Zoey rolled her eyes. "I bought it myself with my money--that's what he doesn't like."
"No, that you're old enough to drive and make your own decisions is what he doesn't like," Josh offered.
"That's an old problem," Zoey shrugged. "Come on. I showed it to my dad and he gave me his: Zoey, I really would like you to rethink this look and matching sigh."
She lowered her voice and sported a dower expression as she imitated
her
father. Josh smirked rather than comment. His relationship
with
Zoey was one of the odder aspects of his job. She had appeared in
his
office in
She kept in touch with him regularly on e-mail as she completed her
schooling
in
"Far be it from me to second-guess your father," Josh said.
"You don't always agree with him," Zoey countered quickly.
"That is true, I do not always agree with the President," Josh said. "However, I just said I was referring to your father. I know nothing about children...."
"I'm not a child," she said petulantly.
"You're his daughter," Josh reminded her. "I was going to say, I don't have children, so this isn't an area where I feel qualified to comment."
"You know how to drive so you're as qualified as I want right now," she said. "So, come look at my car. Please! Josh, please. I want to show it to someone who isn't going to lecture me about safety and responsibility."
"So I'm dangerous and irresponsible?"
"You have your moments," she grinned.
"Okay," he shrugged and followed her as she practically skipped toward the side entrance.
Parked outside the door was a dark government sedan and an icy blue two door coupe with sleek lines and mag wheels. Zoey ran to the sports car and posed grandly beside it, her grin and excited eyes blazing and bright like the shiny paint job.
"Well?" she said expectantly.
"You can drive this?" Josh asked, digging his hands into his pockets and casting a disbelieving glance at her. "It's a five speed."
"Yes, I can drive this," she said defensively. "Doug..."
"This Liz's husband or some guy at the car lot?"
"My brother-in-law," she informed him sternly. "He taught me to drive standard after I got my license."
"When was that?" Josh teased. "Five, six months ago?"
"Stop it," she commanded. "I am an adult and should be allowed to have my own car. My mother agreed... sort of."
"In other words, in theory she said you were right but she played no part in you running out and buying this," Josh surmised.
"Do you guys receive a script from my father?"
"No, I'm just that sharp," Josh said, walking around the car to take a closer look.
It was precisely the sort of car he could see Zoey driving and exactly the kind that would make her father, even if he wasn't the President and demanded she have a Secret Service driver at all times, would worry about her owning.
"You sure you can drive this?" he asked again.
"Yes, but I need practice," she admitted with a sly grin. "Are you ready?"
"For what?"
"A lesson," she said simply.
"I know how to drive," he replied.
"I know, that's why you'll give me a lesson," she said confidently.
"No," he answered. "Have the Secret Service teach you. They can teach you how to drive like they do. You're trying to be James Bond with this thing so go to the experts."
"I am getting driving lessons from them," she said firmly. "Starting tomorrow I have defensive driving 101 or whatever, but I have my car today and I can drive it if I want. They follow me or one of them rides with me right now. So, get in."
"Why?" he asked without moving.
"Because you're going to help me practice," she said. "I'm still getting used to this and you said you would."
"No, I didn't," he said assuredly.
"Oh yes, you did," she argued. "You promised, on
"You can't prove that," he said.
"You can't disprove it," she countered.
"It's a draw so the issue is tabled."
"No, it's not," she said. "You promised. I'm not lying and you don't go back on your word. It's one of your finer points."
"Now you're sounding desperate," Josh shook his head. "Look, I'd love to.... Actually, no I wouldn't. I'd absolutely not love to and thankfully I have a technical corrections bill that I need to..."
"It can wait."
"No, it can't," Josh said.
"Is Congress voting tonight? No."
"Zoey."
"It can wait," she said opening her door then telling her detail that she would be taking a spin on I-95 with Josh.
"Why do you bother me?" Josh asked, leaning on the car as she put down the windows.
"Because I like you," she grinned.
"Fine way of showing it," he sighed. "You know, this has bad idea written all over it. I can see you're going to ask for specifics, but I don't have any. Trust me on this. I get paid to follow my instincts."
"You're off the clock right now," she said as she started the engine and revved it unnecessarily.
"Zoey Bartlet, a sports car she can't drive and me," Josh sighed as he looked back at the agent standing near the car. "Yeah, there's no reason to worry, is there, Ted?"
"Don't worry, Mr. Lyman," the agent replied calmly. "We're right behind you and our car is faster than hers."
"How 'bout I just ride with them?" Josh asked Zoey as he reluctantly took a seat in her car.
"How 'bout you stop whining and put on your seatbelt?"
Josh did as commanded and shook his head. Zoey inched the car, racing the engine as they edged toward the gates. Josh kept his eye on the side mirror to make sure the tail car was keeping close and wished they had less confidence in Zoey's ability to be left to her own devices.
"Ready to race?" she asked then laughed triumphantly at the pained expression on his face.
"Why aren't you terrorizing your boyfriend?" Josh asked as they entered the sparse evening traffic.
"I don't spend every minute with Jean-Paul," she said.
"Okay," he said and refrained from commenting further. He didn't know the aristocrat well and felt a certain amount of solidarity to Charlie.
"So why didn't you take Charlie instead?"
"Don't do that," she commanded.
"Do what?"
"Bring up Charlie," she answered.
"I was just saying I think he would be a better idea for this than I am," Josh replied.
"He doesn't have the answers I need," Zoey said. "You do."
"I'm sorry?" Josh responded then turned his attention to the grinding of the gears. "You need to let the clutch out a little smoother. You're hopping off it too quick. What answers are you talking about?"
"Oh, about a certain trip you took," Zoey said as they crossed the
bridge and headed toward
"Which trip?"
"Josh."
"I take a lot of trips, Zoey," he said.
"You used me in your little plot and I never knew what was going on," she said. "Not that I mind, but you should have given me a hint. I just thought you were trying to be nice to her and make up. But what did you do? You ran off and got married."
"I didn't know you cared," he smirked.
"You know what I mean," Zoey snapped. "I'd like to think we're friends. And friends tell each other things."
"Things like: Please don't kill me by driving off the road?" Josh ventured as the car drifted slightly toward the breakdown lane. "Or like, shift it into fifth gear because you're tacking out in fourth."
Zoey straightened the wheel a little and shifted the gears but not the track of her conversation.
"I'm talking about life-changing things," she said as they continued down I-95. "You had a major life thing happen."
"Several, in fact," he agreed, seeing where she was going and looking for a way to end or change the topic.
"You got married," she said, zeroing in and backhanding him on the arm, accidentally knocking the car out of gear as she did so. "To Donna. I had to find out about it from a two second remark in CJ's briefing the other day."
"Okay, no hitting," he said defensively. "And keep your hands on the wheel unless you're shifting. Better yet, pull over."
"Why?"
"Just pull over," Josh said in a tone that she did not argue with.
The car slowed to a stop and Josh got out. The agents approached and he explained that Zoey's excursion was done for the evening. Zoey, not pleased with the discussion at first refused to relinquish the driver's seat but agree only if she would be allowed to ride with Josh driving so that she could continue her interrogation. Josh's efforts to pawn her off on one of the agents were unsuccessful. He reluctantly agreed to drive with her back to the White House. They resumed their trip several moments later, taking an exit and returning to the interstate headed back to the District in silence.
"I can take care of myself," she said after several minutes.
"Well, I'm barely able to take care of myself, so you'll have to tell me how you do it someday," he answered, as they sped along the roadway.
"You do just fine and what you can't take care of, you now have Donna to help with," Zoey said. "So are you going to tell me about it? The wedding?"
"What's to tell?" he answered. "She was there, I was there. Some guy who was official was there. We both said 'aye' when the moderator called the question. The motion carried and the resolution passed. Typical day's work, really."
"See, it's answers like that which make me wonder how you got her to say yes," Zoey said. "You don't act like you're married. Neither of you. It's like everything is the same as it was, but it's not. You eloped and it's supposed to be exciting and something you tell your friends about. Why didn't you?"
"Maybe I wanted my private, personal life to be private and personal," Josh said.
"Oh," Zoey nodded.
That she understood. It seemed like her every move was caught on film or by someone with a camera or notebook. She didn't understand why everything she did was open for public comment. Her father was elected, she wasn't. Still, she had lived like this for most of her life. The hope that in a few short years she could be like most other people was something for which she could she could barely wait.
"So, what do you think about Charlie?" she asked out of the blue, mostly to change the subject.
"He's not my type," Josh smirked. "I'm apparently partial to blonds."
"I meant," Zoey sighed then shook her head. "It's not that I have a thing for him still. We're just.... He's just.... I know he doesn't really like Jean-Paul and...."
"Talk to him not to me," Josh said firmly. "This is
between you and Charlie. You're going to
"I read the other day that I'm back with Charlie," Zoey said, recalling the gossip column that had caused a passive/aggressive exchange with Jean-Paul that resulted in him not being invited to ride in her new car yet.
"Really," Josh said. "Truth or rumor?"
"Rumor," she smirked. "I heard that you married your assistant. Truth or rumor?"
"Rumor," Josh said. "I married my wife."
He paused after he said it. It sounded so odd--saying he was married in such a casual manner and stating so matter-of-factly that he had a wife. What was stranger still was that on some level, it didn't seem strange at all.
"Okay," Zoey continued, liking the course of the discussion. "You’re on the shortlist for an invite to the Grid Iron Dinner, truth or rumor?"
"True," Josh nodded.
"You are the inspiration for the lead character in that movie they’re filming based on that book your friend wrote, truth or rumor?"
"Rumor," he said. "SJ, the writer, says that but she makes things up--being a writer and all. You’re turn. You're pulling a C-minus in American History, truth or rumor?"
"Rumor," she said hotly. "It's a B-plus and after I hand in my last term paper and ace my exam, it'll be an A-minus."
The conversation continued in that vein until they arrived back at the White House several minutes later, unscathed. They were still wading through the rumor mills as they entered to find Charlie in the hall looking expectantly in their direction.
"You taught a blind woman how to drive, truth or rumor?" Zoey said, ignoring the President's Aide's stare.
"I'm sorry?"
"Yeah, I thought that was a bit farfetched," Zoey smirked. "We had a guest lecturer in one of my social justice seminar who I spoke with after class about the ADA, and she hinted that she knew you and that your taught her how to drive."
"Karen Carlylse?"
"Um, it's Karen Stoddard," Zoey said uncertainly. "She's married to Dr. Stoddard, who teaches Physics."
"About five-foot six, curly red hair and pale, pale green eyes," Josh said.
"Um, yeah," Zoey said. "But she's blind."
"Since she was nine," Josh nodded.
"Right, that's what she said," Zoey said.
"Then true," Josh nodded, and grinned at the memory.
"You taught a blind woman to drive?!" Zoey exclaimed.
"It's not like she took the driving test and got a license," Josh argued. "It was... There was an old back road near the shore and... Hey, she was 21 and I was 18, and it was summer and.... It seemed like a good idea at the time."
"You really are insane," Zoey remarked.
"We have evidence," said a voice as the newcomer appeared around the corner.
"Good evening, Mr. President," Josh said instantly.
"Zoey, might I have a moment," Bartlet said, gesturing toward the Mural Room. Zoey nodded then waved an apologetic wave to Josh as she headed toward the open door.
"I should probably disappear," Josh said, seeing the President's stern expression.
"Only if you're feeling wise," Bartlet said. "I take it you didn't lose the car?"
"She did give up the keys," Josh said, brandishing them in his palm. Bartlet waved them over. Josh relinquished possession. "For what it's worth, I'd bet one night below 30 degrees and it dies."
"I'll have it shipped it to
*****************
Donna's head tipped forward again and she shook herself awake. It
was
barely
"You're late," she called as she heard him enter.
"For what?" he asked dropping his bag and keys on the kitchen table--something she had begun specifically asking him not to do as it made the room look cluttered.
"What held you up?" she asked rather than answer. "Did the DEA make a...."
"I was driving," he said.
"I'm sorry?"
"With Zoey," he called. "She got that new car and she wanted to go for a ride so we went. Then there was a thing and Charlie wanted to speak with me, but I think he mostly wanted to ask about Zoey--don't tell him I said that."
"You were joyriding?"
"It wasn't that much fun," he answered as he entered the bedroom. "She was playing Grand High Inquisitor."
"Josh, I wanted to talk to you," Donna said seriously. "You told me you'd come right home so we could talk."
"I'm here," he shrugged as he began to shed his suit and tie.
He had forgotten Donna's request until he had parked his car in front of the building. He was hoping she would have exhausted herself reorganizing the apartment and be asleep when he arrived. He had a suspicion of what she wanted to discuss and he wasn't sure what he should say.
"Last night, I told you something," she said. "I was a little surprised by your response."
"I said okay," Josh replied, feeling cornered. "You told me and I said okay."
"I think telling you that I can't have children would merit something more than the word okay then a yawn followed by unhindered sleep," Donna said folding her arms and standing firmly in front of him.
"You explained it, Donna," Josh said.
"So that's it?" she asked. "You don't want to talk about it more?"
"Why?" Josh asked. "Donna, you said you're kind of... screwed up or whatever. You told me about your sister and her problems. You've got them, too. Nothing you can do about it; it’s genetic and can’t be fixed. You can't have children. Nature caused it and science can't fix it—that’s what you said. So I figured that's pretty much all there is to say. Was I surprised to hear it, sure. I don't know if I'm disappointed. I hadn't really thought about children. I don't have time in my life for lunch much less to be someone's father. Maybe it's a good thing."
"A good thing?"
"I just meant that we don't have to agonize over a decision because we won't face that situation," Josh said and surveyed her blank expression. "It makes things easier. You can't be disappointed; you've known about this for how long?"
"I was tested when I was 19, after Frannie had her third miscarriage," Donna said. "She asked me about surrogacy. I wasn't sure I wanted to do it, but she was so sad. They'd tried for years and.... Well, when you're 19 and you find out you can't get pregnant, that's not a bad thing. It never really bothered me until... But if you don't care then...."
"Hey," Josh said, grabbing her arm to prevent her from leaving the room. "It's not that. It's just a fact. Right? That's how it is. I don't dwell on things that can't change. It is what it is and you move on."
"I just... I'm not saying I wanted to have a baby, but I started thinking about us being a family and it just seemed that...," she paused then sighed. "Some day, when you're not doing this job, would you maybe think about other options? Like adoption maybe?"
"Some day?" he asked seeing the disappointment on her face that she would not express in words. "Sure. Not now though. Donna, you don't even have time to unpack your boxes."
"You mean I don't have the space to unpack my boxes," she said, easily shifting the conversation.
"Don't start," he sighed.
"We need a bigger place," Donna said. "We need it now--and we might need it in the future. I'm being proactive here; besides, real estate is a good investment."
"Real estate?" he asked. "You want a house? Donna, we can't afford a house."
"I can't afford a house," she replied. "You can and with my salary..."
"We could pay someone to mow the lawn," he quipped.
"So you agree?"
"Donna," he sighed. "Look, if you could find a place that we could afford, that wasn't an hour or more away and was worth living in, sure, but since I live in the real world... Just... I don't know. Get rid of some of your stuff."
"My stuff? What about your stuff?"
"My stuff has been here longer," he shrugged.
****************
Wednesday morning
The White House
Sam breezed
down the hallway. He was a man on a mission. There was something that
he had
been meaning to talk to Josh about and today was the day. Sam wasn’t
going to
put it off any longer.
“You’re coming out with me Friday night,” Sam declared as he entered Josh’s office.
Josh stopped typing and looked at his visitor. “I am?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “Yes you are.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he said, “you must have a bachelor party.”
“I must?” Josh asked, eyebrows raised.
“You must,” Sam affirmed. “It’s tradition.”
Josh smirked. “You do realize that I am no longer a bachelor, right?”
“Well, yeah,” Sam replied. “But you sprung that on us.”
“Okay,” Josh acquiesced. “So you thought you’d spring this one on me?”
“Exactly.”
“Where are we going?” Josh asked as he resumed his typing.
“Out,” Sam answered.
“Out?” Josh repeated. “That’s a little vague.”
“Well, you see,” Sam said, taking a quick peek out his office door. “I…I can’t say.”
“Why?”
Sam nodded out towards Donna’s area. “You know…”
“Donna,” Josh concluded as Sam nodded. “Sam… really…”
“Josh, come on,” Sam begged. “It’ll be fun. The last hurrah of The Beltway Boys.”
Josh smirked, dimples present. “The Beltway Boys?”
“Too much?” Sam asked.
“Yeah.”
“You’ll get free drinks,” Sam offered.
“That’ll last long,” Josh replied as he sent his email.
“Come on,” Sam begged again. “You, me, Toby and whomever else you want.”
“It’s it whoever else?” Josh turned in his chair to face Sam.
“You want to do grammar now?”
“Sam,” Josh shook his head. “It’s not that I have to ask permission. I am my own man.”
“Yes.”
“I can make decisions,” Josh continued. “She’s not my keeper. I’m in charge of what I do.”
“Right,” Sam agreed. “So you’re worried she’ll be pissed?”
“Exceedingly,” Josh answered quickly.
“She’ll be fine,” Sam assured his friend.
“Yeah, but I won’t be after she finds out,” Josh replied.
“Find out what?” Donna asked as she appeared in Josh’s doorway. Sam froze in his spot.
“That…that…” Sam stammered. “Josh and I have a thing Friday night so he’ll be late.”
“Oh,” Donna
said, handing Josh a file. “This is the file about the
“Thanks,” Josh answered, taking the file. Donna exited the office. “Okay, Sammy, it’s all you then.”
“Yes,” Sam pumped his fist. “Wait? It’s all me? Why me?”
“You lied to her,” Josh said.
“I can handle it,” Sam said. “I’m a professional.”
“Great,” Josh said returning to his work.
“Excellent,”
Sam continued. “So,
Friday,
“There are details?”
“You need to know where to meet us,” Sam said.
“You don’t know or it’s a secret?” Josh smirked.
“Josh, give me a little credit here.”
“I do and so I’m asking again: You don’t know or it’s a secret?”
“Well,” he admitted, “I haven’t quite exactly picked out where we’re going just yet…”
“So in other words,” Josh surmised, “there’s nothing. Just for that, you know that you’re gonna be the Junior Beltway Boy.”
“Friday.
“So what is your thing with Sam on Friday?” she asked.
“Sam wants to have a bachelor party,” Josh admitted.
Donna looked at him. “For whom?”
“For the President,” he smirked. “For me.”
“He does?”
“Yeah,” he replied, then paused. “What do you think?”
“It’s fine,” she said.
“Seriously?”
“Yes,” Donna nodded. “I’m gonna grab lunch. You have your meeting in ten minutes.”
****************
Press Secretary’s
Office
Wednesday,
“Do you think that next Wednesday’s a possibility?” Carol asked as she thumbed through her date book.
Ginger shook her head. “No. I’ve got a thing after work. How about Friday?”
“I’m okay with that,” Bonnie replied. “Carol?”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “I can work with that. I’ll just setup…”
CJ breezed into her office and eyed the three assistants. “Don’t mind me, this is just my office.”
“CJ,” Carol said, “we’re thinking of throwing Donna a post-wedding shower Friday.”
“A shower,” CJ mused. “What time?”
“Probably after you call a full lid,” Carol replied. “So eight? Can you stop by?”
“Barring a national emergency, I think I can swing by,” CJ smiled.
“Great,” Ginger said. “We want this to be a surprise for her.”
“So don’t tell Josh,” the press secretary smirked.
“Exactly,” Bonnie replied. “And since she never registered anywhere the gift list is wide open.”
“What’s wide open?” Sam asked from the doorway.
“Nothing,” Ginger replied quickly. “Do you need us?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah. Toby’s looking for the thing from this morning.”
“I got it,” Bonnie said. She scribbled the date on her calendar and left the office.
“So…” Sam restated. “What’s going on?”
“We’d better go,” Carol said. She and Ginger quickly gathered up their belongings and left.
“CJ?”
“It’s a girl thing, Sam,” CJ explained. “But you’re practically a woman anyway, so…”
“I’m a sensitive guy,” Sam corrected. “It’s two different things.”
“Whatever,” CJ shrugged as she took a seat behind her desk. “The assistants want to throw Donna a wedding shower.”
“That’s great,” he smiled. “I’m throwing Josh a bachelor party. It’s only fair that she get a party, too.”
“A bachelor party, Sam?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “You know what; I don’t even want to know.”
“Good,” he nodded. “Anyway, you guys can have it in the Communications Bullpen before we head out for the bachelor party. That way we got all our bases covered.”
“Donna doesn’t know about Josh’s party?” she asked.
“No and let’s keep it that way.”
“Sam,” she sighed. “This is Josh we’re talking about. I have a sense that one way or another she knows.”
“You think?”
“It’s Donna.”
****************
Communications
Bullpen
Friday,
Ginger walked to her desk and picked up the phone. She buzzed Carol to let her know that it was time to begin preparations for Donna’s surprise. Carol let her know that she would pass on the information to CJ and would grab her items. Bonnie opened her desk drawer and pulled out crepe paper wedding bells and began assembling. Ginger ran down to the mess to pick up the small cake and bottle of wine that she had stashed there earlier in the day.
Toby looked out his door at the bustle that was occurring. He made known that his two assistants did not work as hard at their jobs as they did with this gathering. Minutes later Josh entered the area, reading a memo. He glanced up and stopped in his tracks.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
. “Don’t worry about it,” Bonnie said quickly.
“Okay,” he shrugged as he dropped a file off on Ginger’s desk. He nearly collided with her and the cake as she returned. “Look, what the hell is going on here?”
“Thy’re throwing a surprise shower for Donna,” Toby yelled from his office. “Feel free to cancel so, you know, they can get back to work.”
“Toby,” Ginger admonished as CJ and Sam entered the bullpen.
“A surprise shower?” Josh smirked, noticing Donna strolling down the hallway. “Donna! Get in here. They’re throwing you a surprise shower!”
“I think that defeats the purpose of a surprise,” Sam said.
“Ten bucks says she’ll still be surprised,” Josh declared.
“You’re on,” CJ said, Sam nodding along.
“What’s going…” Donna gasped, placing a hand over her heart as she read the recently hung banner with her name and congratulations. “Oh, you guys! That is so sweet!”
Josh waggled his fingers. “Pay up.”
“We figured that since you didn’t get a bridal shower,” Bonnie smiled, hugging Donna, “you still deserved some sort of celebration.”
“This is just wonderful,” Donna replied. “Isn’t it Josh?”
“Yeah, I made twenty bucks.”
“Okay,” CJ glared at Josh. “I have a feeling that no official wedding picture was taken.”
“We have one,” Josh stated.
“Having your picture taken in front of the Acropolis does not count,” CJ declared.
“He’s telling the truth, CJ,” Donna corroborated Josh’s statement. “We do have a wedding picture. I just haven’t gotten any of them framed yet. I can decide which one I want to bring in while Josh is at his bachelor party.”
Sam quickly turned to Josh. “She knows?”
“You think she wouldn’t find out?” Josh whispered. “It’s Donna.”
“Can we get this over with?” Toby yelled from his office.
CJ shut Toby’s door and placed a box on Ginger’s desk. “Anyway, I would like to present you with this. And I think Gumdrops over there should open it.”
Josh opened the box and removed an 8x10 picture in a silver frame.
“When was
this taken?”
“The Inaugural Ball,” CJ explained. “One of the White House photographer’s took it. I had him enlarge it.”
Josh handed the frame to Donna. “Do you remember this being taken?”
Donna gazed at the picture. There was no way she would recall that. She looked at the image of herself and recalled being lost in the expression in his eyes. Paying attention to the multiple flashbulbs going off was not on the agenda that evening.
“No, I don’t,” she admitted. “There was so much going on. CJ, it’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”
CJ smiled. “They’re putting together am exhibit for the White House photographer’s and this was one from the Inaugural section. I just thought you both looked so happy. I didn't know why. I mean, I thought it was just because we won. But...”
“CJ?” Carol asked.
CJ’s eyes widened and she pointed her finger at Josh and Donna, suddenly remembering a very upset Donna one month ago. “Joshua! You! You were the one who...”
“What's she yelling at you for?” Donna asked.
Josh shrugged. “It’s Friday; does she need a reason?”
”I can't believe it!” CJ huffed.
“Donna.”
“What?”
“Curled your toes?” CJ gasped then blushed and laughed as she recalled the pangs of jealousy she felt over Donna’s mystery man so many weeks ago.
Sam glanced at CJ and shrugged her rant off. “CJ is not the only one
who knows
a picture helps tell a story... or series of pictures... and events.”
Donna took the gift bag from Sam and removed the tissue paper. “Thank you. Oh, a photo album. How thoughtful of you, Sam.”
Sam slightly blushed.
“I came up with the idea, but Ginger
and Bonnie did the leg work to pull it together; these go all the way
back to
the office in
Donna hugged the two women, then Sam. “That was very kind of you guys.”
”Wait!” Carol exclaimed. “I've got something just for you, Donna.”
Donna opened the box and lifted the delicate fabric out. She let it open fully to reveal a silk, halter-style cream colored gown. She flipped the item around to reveal an extremely low cut back. Donna blushed.
Josh pulled out one of his newly gained ten dollar bills and surreptitiously handed it to Carol.
“Thank you,” she said cautiously.
Josh shook his head and spoke quietly. “No, no. Thank you.”
“That reminds me,” Bonnie said, shooting a questioning glance at Carol who was now reduced to blushing, laughing hysterics. “Ginger and I chipped in and got you this, too.”
“JOSH!” Toby yelled through the door. “Could you leave the estrogen brigade and come here?”
“I’m out here, too,” Sam offered.
Toby opened his door. “Like I said…”
****************
Josh and
Donna’s
apartment
Josh and Donna entered their apartment. She placed her keys on the key rack and hung her coat on the coat tree. Josh tossed his backpack, gift box and keys on the kitchen table. Donna huffed and placed two items in their designated spot.
“I was proud of you tonight,” Donna said. “You behaved very well at the party.”
“I did,” he smirked. “Hey, while I was talking with Sam…he, uh, reminded me of my party.”
“The bachelor party?”
Josh nodded. “He thinks it was a shame that he and so many others were deprived of the pleasure of the traditional wedding thing. So, he thinks I owe him.”
Donna arched an eyebrow. “Owe him? How?”
“And, you know,” he continued, ignoring her questions, “he makes a good argument. He’s a damn fine lawyer, our Mr. Seaborn.”
“Josh.”
Josh continued his argument. “We did deprive our closest friends of the traditional…you know…trappings of a regular wedding process…”
“I got my shower,” she countered as she entered their bedroom. She placed her newly gotten gain on the bed.
“He thinks,” Josh followed, “rightly so, I suppose on some level, that I owe him and as a friend, I don’t like to be indebted to a friend like this. I mean, it behooves me to do what I can for those who would do whatever they could to assist me and as this is not merely for his benefit, but that of…”
“Josh!” she said, covering his mouth briefly. “I said you could go to the bachelor party earlier this week. You don’t have to convince me.”
Josh paused momentarily. “But I had a whole thing…”
Donna rolled her eyes and picked up a gift bag. She headed to the bathroom and partially closed the door. “I don’t see a problem with your little bachelor party. In essence, you were…deprived of one and it’s only fitting that Sam, being your best friend and most likely best man, throw you said bachelor party.”
“You know something,” he accused, stripping off his tie.
“Know what?” she asked.
“Donna, I do this for a living,” he exclaimed, unbuttoning the top button of his dress shirt. “You have something and that’s why you’re giving me this chance without any argument. What’s going on?”
Donna stuck her head out of the bathroom. “Nothing is going on. In fact, it’s going to be a nice, uninterrupted couple of hours.”
“I don’t buy it,” he argued, looking at her. “You’re up to something.”
“Absolutely not,” she replied, staring back.
“Right,” Josh nodded slowly. “You’re just gonna let me go out with Sam and the guys and…have a bachelor party, even though I will have been married for two weeks by the time it happens, with you saying a word?”
“I trust you,” Donna smiled, ducking back into the bathroom.
“You’re sending spies,” he accused.
“Nope.”
He wagged his finger at the door. “You want me to think you’re sending spies so I’ll wonder all night who is reporting to you so that…”
“Josh.”
“Sam has a list,” Josh said. “There are a handful of people from the office and others we know. He said only about 20 guys, but this is Sam and he gets ideas and sometimes and…there was this one time…Never mind.”
“Josh, I trust you,” Donna answered. “I know you. You wouldn’t do anything wrong. That and with your sensitive system...”
“I can handle my own bachelor party,” Josh huffed.
“So why are you so uptight about your own party?” Donna asked. “Do you not want to go now?”
“Oh, I’m going,” he said emphatically. “You think…Ah ha! That’s your game. Well it didn’t work. Donna, Donna, Donna. I’m going. And I’m going to have a good time.”
“Have a good time,” she said sweetly.
Josh made his way towards the door. “It’s not working.”
“What’s not working?”
“This thing you’re doing to make me not go,” he smiled smugly. “You’re busted. I’m the master, Donna. I’ve got you all figured out.”
“Whatever.”
Josh left the doorframe and strolled over to the bed. He sat down and picked up the photo album and began looking at the pictures. “Mrs. Landingham is in some of these.”
“Is she?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “Background of a
couple shots.
Donna exited their
bathroom, clad in a
“Uh, people…and…stuff,” Josh said, stunned as he caught sight of her wardrobe selection. “Where did you get that?”
“Bonnie and Ginger. You were in with Toby when they gave it to me.”
“Nice gift,” he said softly.
“What?”
“That was nice of them,” Josh smiled.
Donna sat next to Josh and took the album from him. “Let’s see what the other pictures are in this book.”
“Let’s look at it tomorrow,” he suggested, fingering one of the straps.
“Let’s look at it before you head to your party.”
“Let’s look at you now.”
Donna turned Josh’s head to a photo on the top of the page. “Look…the swearing in ceremony.”
“You mean the swearing at ceremony,” he reminded her. “You were pissed at me.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “I nearly had to watch the entire thing on television.”
“It was 20 degrees and breezy,” Josh pointed out.
“Still, it’s a once in a lifetime experience,” Donna sighed.
“We did it twice.”
“I wasn’t at the second one,” she said solemnly.
Josh turned to look at her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You showed up to the party afterward, though.”
She smiled. “Yes, I did.”
“At least you got to dance once.”
“Yes,” Donna rose from the bed. “Speaking of that dance, we need to find the perfect spot for the picture CJ gave us.”
“I like it where I put it,” he answered, rising and walking over to her.
“Josh,” she sighed, “dumping it on the table is not the proper place. That’s so…bachelor-like.”
Josh shook his head. “No, dropping them in the sink would be bachelor-like. Dropping them on the table is merely lazy.”
Donna headed for the living room. “Well, we need to put it up someplace.”
“Well,” Josh smirked, placing his arms around her waist and stopping her movement, “let’s do something else for a while.”
Donna turned in his arms. “You’re going to be late.”
“For what?” he smiled and flicked off the light.
****************
Sam and Toby waited outside the Grand Hyatt
“Where is he?” Sam sighed.
“I don’t know,” Toby said. “He's half an hour late. Did you tell him where to meet you?”
“Of course I did.”
“You said the machine picked up at the apartment,” Toby stated. “Did you try his cell?”
“Yes,” he sighed, “I keep getting his voice mail.”
“I’m missing a good cigar inside because of him,” Toby grumbled. “I came out here with you half an hour ago because you were sure he'd be here. I'm not sure why us standing here helps that happen, but if he’s not here in five minutes, I’m heading inside for the rest of the evening.”
A cab immediately pulled to a stop in front of the hotel.
“That’s gotta be him,” Sam nodded. “See, Toby? I knew he wouldn’t disappoint us.”
The doorman rushed to the cab to open the door for the arriving patron. Sam’s hopes were quickly dashed.
“Hello, Sam. Toby,” Mallory O’Brien smiled as she exited the cab. She thanked the doorman and paid the driver.
“M…Mal?” Sam asked, surprised to see the red-head. “What are you doing here?”
“What?” she smiled. “I can’t go out in the evenings? I heard you were having a party and I just thought I’d drop in.”
“Uh…well…” he stammered, “it’s not necessarily a party, per se.”
“It’s a bachelor party,” Mallory replied.
“Yes.”
“So what are you doing out here?” she asked.
“Missing a good cigar,” Toby said.
“Waiting for the guest of honor,” Sam corrected, glaring at Toby.
“Josh,” she surmised.
“Yes. Who else?”
“He’s not a bachelor,” she pointed out.
“It’s an after…” he paused, “well, you see Mallory; he didn’t tell us he was getting married until after he got married so we couldn’t throw him a bachelor party before he got married, so we’re doing it now.”
“Well, think what you want,” Mallory smirked, “but he’s not coming to your party.”
“Of course he is,” Sam argued. “He said he was coming, and it’s not my party, it’s his.”
“Donna won’t let him.”
“Yes she will,” Sam continued. “I spoke to Josh after Donna’s party. He said that she agreed to it.”
“Yes, I’m sure she did,” she ceded. “And I spoke with her and she said she told him he could go, but I know he’s not going to show up. While Donna wouldn’t order Josh to not go, I’m sure she saw to it that he wouldn’t be available.”
“Saw to it?”
“I’m getting a headache,” Toby piped in.
“That he would choose not to come,” Mallory explained.
“I fail to see the logic in that Mallory,” Sam replied.
“Well,” Mallory smiled, “you’ll also fail to see Josh tonight so you two should rethink your plans. What were your plans, anyway?”
“Uh, drinks…things…guy stuff.”
“Well, he got a better offer,” Mallory answered confidently.
“Like what?” Sam asked.
“Sex.”
Sam looked at her. “Oh… Well… uh…”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “So since you have no plans for the evening, buy me a drink.”
“Might as well,” Sam shrugged in defeat. “Toby, care to join us?”
“You just drop the information that Josh is…and you want me to drink?” Toby grumbled. “No. I don't think my stomach could take it. I’m going to have that long overdue cigar.”
“Have a good night, Toby,” Sam said brightly.
“I will now,” he replied as he stepped toward the door.
“Hey, could you maybe tell the guys that….,” Sam began.
“That Josh won’t be here?” Toby completed the thought and nodded. “I’m not sure they’ll notice. They’ve been in there an hour. They probably think he’s in there with them.”
“Great,” Sam said enthusiastically and turned to face Mallory with a wide grin.
“Don’t get any ideas, Sam,” Mallory warned. “Josh will have a better night than you.”
“Right.”
****************
The Mural Room
Tuesday evening
“I think I should try it again,” Donna said to Margaret. “My pitch wasn’t quite right.”
“I think your speech was better the first time when you were more spontaneous,” Margaret replied from a couch.
Donna cleared her throat and began her speech again. She was scheduled to give a brief history of the Easter Egg to the parents and children the next day who were going to gather on the White House lawn before CJ was to introduce the President to give his annual Easter proclamation. Donna had asked Margaret to join her and rate her performance before speaking on Saturday. As she was partially into her speech, Josh and Toby entered with dinner.
“Toby, you’re right,” Josh said. “We arrived just in time.”
Donna stopped. “Go away.”
Toby and Josh took their seats on another couch.
“That sounds an awful lot like and order,” Josh remarked.
“It did, indeed, have that sound,” Toby agreed.
"I'm not sure she can give me orders," Josh said. "Leo can; the President can."
"I can," Toby added.
"You don't outrank me," Josh pointed out.
"Yet," Toby said stabbing at his food.
“I mean it,” Donna seethed. “Leave. Both of you.”
“No,” Josh said, “we work here.”
“I don’t want you here,” Donna said.
“Well, that's a nice way to talk to your boss Ms. Moss,” Toby smirked as he ate.
“Fine,” she huffed as she looked down at her index cards. “The Easter Egg Roll is a longstanding tradition at the White House…It started back in…”
“What is it?” Margaret asked.
“Nothing,” Donna said quickly. “Let me try again.”
“Okay,” Margaret soothed. “You’re doing fine.”
Donna cleared her throat and started again. “The Easter Egg Roll is a…”
“Donna?” Margaret asked.
“I’m fine. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” she nodded.
Josh finished chewing on his noodles then asked: “Can you not read your writing?”
Donna glared at Josh.
“Okay, since you're new to this marriage thing, I'm going to help you, Josh," Toby said seriously. "That is the death ray look. It means you are in serious trouble."
“Impervious,” Josh responded, waving his chopsticks at her.
“Okay,” Donna said, taking a deep breath. “Here we go. The Easter Egg Roll is a…” she pointed at Josh, “if you start laughing…”
“What?” Josh asked. “I… I’m just sitting here.”
“You were going to laugh,” she accused. “I could tell.”
“Well, then you should tell someone else,” he countered, “because I wasn’t going to laugh.”
Donna looked down at her cards. “The Easter Egg Roll is a longstanding tradition at the White House. It started back in…you know what? I can’t do this.”
“I’m not laughing,” Josh repeated.
"Why are you in here?" she asked hotly.
"Congressman Kalen and Jankowitz are mulling over a proposition in my office," Josh informed her.
"Did you remember to lock the door?" Toby asked.
"I thought that might be a little too bold this early in the negotiation," Josh said. Toby shrugged and continued with his meal.
"Well, go somewhere else," Donna seethed. "You're interrupting."
“I wouldn’t dare interrupt the history of the Easter Egg Roll,” Josh smirked.
“Speaking of egg rolls,” Toby interrupted, “where did mine go?”
“You most certainly would,” she argued. “Don’t you have a meeting to go to?”
“No,” Josh shook his head. “I’m free.”
“My egg roll wasn’t,” Toby grumbled. “Where did it go?”
“You ate it,” Josh informed him.
“Did I enjoy it?”
“Apparently not.”
Toby snatched Josh’s other egg roll. “I'm all about second chances this week."
“That reminds me, Donna,” Margaret spoke up. “Leo and CJ wanted you to know that there was a change; there will be a C-SPAN crew here tomorrow for all this.”
“C-SPAN?” Josh smiled. “Your TV debut.”
“Ex… excuse me?” Donna asked.
“C-SPAN,” Josh repeated. “It’s a TV network; they broadcast many….”
“I know what C-SPAN is,” Donna huffed. “I fall asleep to it every night.”
“You watch TV in your bedroom?” Toby asked. “You’re newlyweds. Josh, should we have a talk?”
“No, you should not,” Donna said.
“I read in Vogue that the average newlywed couple…” Margaret began.
“Really, Margaret, that’s fascinating,” Josh interrupted the assistant. “Let’s not hear more about it.”
“C-SPAN,” Donna repeated, “is carrying this.”
“Yeah,” Toby nodded. “It’s a stationary camera, Donna. They’ll set up off to the side of the podium and get the speeches.”
“Just out of curiosity, how am I going to be listed?”
“Listed?” Josh asked Donna. “What, you want billing?”
“I’m talking about my name,” she explained. “They’re going to be putting my name on the bottom of the screen.”
“Your security tag says Donna Moss,” Toby began, “so I suppose that’s what it’ll say – Donna Moss, White House Staffer.”
“We can change that,” Margaret offered. “They can change your ID Badge, too.”
“Technically they can’t,” Josh said.
“What do you mean?” Donna asked.
“You can’t,” Josh replied. “Your name is Donnatella Moss. You can’t change your credentials because you didn’t legally change your name.”
“It’s smart not to change your name,” Toby said, taking a bite of rice.
“Like I’ve had time,” Donna sighed.
“And why should you bother to make the time?” Toby asked. “Why should a woman do what a man would never be asked? She has to go through all the hassle…”
“Andy never changed hers and you had to listen to why,” Josh surmised.
“Yeah.”
“All right, I can do this,” Donna sighed. She looked down at the index cards and began to quickly read through her speech.
“Yeah, relax,” Josh offered. “Forget that C-SPAN will show this piece about twelve times for the next month.”
Donna then dropped her entire speech on the floor.
“I don’t recommend doing that,” Toby said.
“Donna, are you okay?” Margaret asked. “You look a little flustered.”
“I’m fine,” Donna assured her as she picked up her index cards.
“Do you want some tips?” Josh asked.
“Sure, I’ll bite,” Donna said. “What are the tips?”
“You’re taking tips from him?” Toby sat up. “Do you know how much we cringe when he gets near a camera?”
“Toby, he’s my boss,” Donna reminded him.
“Yes, and he’s a media disaster from time to time,” he turned to Josh. “You are.”
“I take risks,” Josh said.
“You’re an idiot.”
“Okay, children,” Donna warned. “I’ve got a speech to work on here.”
“I think Josh does well on TV,” Margaret said. “You look very good.”
“Thank you,” Josh said.
“Even when you say the wrong things,” she added softly.
“Donna, who wrote that for you?” Toby asked.
“Carol gave me some notes and Sam gave my thing a polish over lunch today,” Donna answered.
“Sam?”
“Yes.”
“Let me see it,” Toby replied.
"Why?"
"It's Sam," Toby said. "I figure that covers a lot of ground. And what was he doing writing about eggs and whatever?"
"I don't know," Donna said. "It's been exceptionally helpful to me recently, which is more than I can say about others."
“Hey, I'm all about being helpful," Josh said, leaning back into the sofa and getting comfortable. "I'll give you pointers on your presentation."
"I don't need your pointers," Donna said. "I'm pretty sure I won't suddenly feel the need to insult the Christian Right, the NRA or the Appropriations Committee. If I do, I'll call you."
"You missed one," Toby said. "Rotarians."
“Can I just say that before the character assassination began, I had actual, helpful advice,” Josh stated.
“What?” Donna asked.
“No, not now. I’ve been called a liability, plain wrong and... well, the other stuff is true but you took it out of context so it borders on implied slander,” he glared at Toby and Margaret. “Now, I’m just gonna sit here and finish my dinner.”
“Good," Donna said firmly. "Just sit there. Don’t say a word; don’t even look at me.”
“Don’t look at you?” he asked. “Directly at you? In your general direction? What?”
“I think she means…”
“Margaret, do you recall when I was doing Leo’s job?” Josh asked.
“Yeah,” she nodded.
“Do you recall the only rule I had for you?”
“Never tell you what other people are thinking or what they meant?” Margaret ventured, recalling with some rue those few but long weeks in the dead of winter.
“Yeah,” he nodded.
“I just did that,” Margaret admitted.
“Yeah.”
Margaret rose from the couch. “I think I’m going to go see Leo.”
She left the room as Donna started her speech.
“The Easter Egg Roll is a longstanding tradition at the White House. It started back in…okay, you’re doing it again.”
“Okay, what is he doing?” Toby asked.
Donna walked over to Josh. “He’s doing what he does,” as she poked him, “now stop it.”
“Okay, poking me,” he yelped. “That’s uncalled for.”
“No, it’s not,” she argued.
“I think it is,” he countered.
“It…is…not,” she said between pokes.
“Oh, God,” Toby groaned. “Could one of you maybe, I don’t know, make it out of the 3rd grade and pretend you’re an adult?”
“You were trying to hurt me,” Josh informed Donna.
“Oh, believe me, if I wanted to, I could have," she steamed.
“I meant…”
“I will hurt you,” Toby yelled. “Knock it off. Donna, read your stupid thing.”
“Now it’s stupid?” Donna asked.
“Kids rolling eggs on the law while hundreds of thousands of children starve across the planet,” Toby informed them. “Yeah, it’s pretty stupid in my book.”
“I think I’m done,” Donna said quietly as she gathered her things.
“Donna, come on,” Josh said. “Toby, you didn’t mean it like that.”
“Yes, I did.”
“No, you didn’t,” he contradicted. “I mean, yeah, the event is stupid. Donna, your part isn’t. Well, it is, but you doing it is not…uh…whatever. Look, take your cards and go back over there and read them.”
“I got it,” she assured him. “It’s not like my high school oration class. I don’t have to have this memorized. I can read from the cards. I got the gist of it down.”
“Then why were you practicing?” Josh asked.
“I mean,” she explained, “I got the gist of it down before you two showed up.”
“So we missed the show,” Toby said. “What a pity.”
Toby stood up and grabbed Josh’s carton. “I’m taking this because I can.”
“Okay,” Donna said. “I'm done.”
“Wait.”
Donna turned to Josh. “What?”
“You’re going to be on TV,” he reminded her. “I was serious; did you want some tips or not?”
“Sure.”
“First,” he stood and walked to her, “you’re not on TV.”
“Huh?”
“That’s the first thing about TV,” Josh said.
“How can I be on TV and not on TV?” she asked him.
“Don’t think about being on TV.”
“That’s kind of hard,” Donna said. “Seeing as how I already know I’m going to be on TV.”
“I know,” Josh smiled. “But for your first time for something like this, you need to pretend you’re not on TV. Pretend you’re talking to your mother.”
“Is that the same thing as picturing the audience in their underwear?”
“No. That’s…uh…that’s different,” he stammered. “That’s for debating. Just pretend you’re talking to Pat"
"To keep me calm?" Donna wondered.
"Well, a little," Josh said. "Mostly, it's to keep you from swearing when you screw up."
"Ah, good tip," she nodded then asked earnestly. "So, you think I'm going to screw up?"
“That's thing two," he replied. "Everyone screws up. Even me sometimes.”
Donna smirked. “Well, duh.”
“Three,” he scowled at her, “don’t look at the camera.”
“Where am I supposed to look?”
“Look at the guy holding the camera,” he pointed out.
“The guy?”
“It keeps you from glaring into the camera,” Josh explained. “Prevents that deer in the headlights look.”
“Right.”
“And finally,” Josh said, taking her index cards, “lose the cards.”
“Give them back,” Donna ordered, reaching for the cards.
“Donna, no,” he said. “You have these and you’re gonna be looking at your hands, not the audience.”
“Then what am I supposed to say?”
“I thought you knew this already.”
“I lied,” she admitted. “Now what am I supposed to say?”
“Say what you have on these cards,” Josh said. “But know it cold.”
“Then give them back so I can know it cold,” she requested.
“Will you memorize it?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Forward and backwards?”
“And upside down.”
“Who’s gonna understand you if you say it backwards or upside down?” he grinned.
“Josh,” she chided.
“Do you want me to be there tomorrow when you do this?” he asked.
“No, I don’t want you there,” Donna replied.
“Really?” he asked.
“Yes,” she nodded. “Josh, I couldn’t concentrate with you in here. What makes you think that I can out there?”
“I’m distracting, huh?” he smirked.
“Joshua.”
Josh nodded. “Right. Office. We are at the office. What are you wearing for this?”
“Wearing?” she asked. “I don’t know.”
“You should think about it,” he told her. “It’s television.”
“Josh!”
“What?”
“I don’t have anything to wear on TV,” she moaned as she flopped on the couch. “Oh, God…”
“I’m sure you have something,” he said. “You’ve got 8 million articles of clothing.”
“And not a thing for television,” Donna put her face in her hands and moaned again.
“You’ll find something,” Josh informed her. “I’m gonna go see if Toby ate Sam’s dinner along with mine. You want anything?”
“A tranquilizer.”
****************
The Lyman Apartment
Josh entered the bedroom and changed for bed. Donna entered soon thereafter in her silk robe. She immediately headed for the cramped closet.
“Going somewhere?” Josh asked.
“No,” she answered, moving his clothing out of the way.
Josh crawled into bed and grinned. “Ready for bed?”
“I’ve just got to pick out something for tomorrow,” Donna said, picking out a green dress and putting it back.
“Oh, that’s all.”
Donna turned to look at him. “That’s all?!? Josh, I have to pick out the perfect outfit for television.”
“I’m on TV all the time,” he stated. “I don’t worry about the perfect suit and tie.”
“That’s because I pick them out for you.”
“Okay,” he argued, “that’s not completely true and I did manage to dress myself before you appointed yourself my dresser.”
Donna returned to her wardrobe selection and pulled out a pale green pantsuit.
“Don’t wear that,” Josh informed her.
“Why?”
“You look horrible in it regularly,” he said and noticed the glare emitting from her eyes. “I have to work on my adjectives, don’t I?”
“Yeah,” she said shortly and replaced the pale green suit with a navy sleeveless dress.
Josh scrunched his face and shook his head.
“What now?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he shook his head. “It’s just…that’s kind of dark for a spring morning thing; I mean, if you were going to debate the usefulness and political significance of the Easter Egg maybe, but this is a thing for kids. You don’t need to intimidate them and by extension, neither does the White House.”
Donna sighed dejectedly and returned the dress to the rack. Josh got up from the bed and went over to her.
“Donna, it’s going to be okay,” he said softly.
“No it’s not,” she huffed and rifled through her wardrobe.
“Yes it is,” he reassured her. “Whatever you pick will be fine.”
“Oh, why was I even asked in the first place?”
“I… uh… I suggested you for it.”
“You did?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “CJ needed someone and Carol can’t do it because she’s herding the brats and everyone else was busy in her department. So you jumped to mind and I said you could do it. It’s a simple little speech that needs to be delivered by someone who isn’t normally railing about gun control and economic downturns and stuff like that. You…you don’t have the baggage the rest of us to. You’re…pristine. This is a thing with kids. Pristine is good for that.”
“I’m pristine?” she smiled.
“Compared to the company you keep? You bet,” Josh smiled. “Look, don’t worry about the clothes.”
Donna returned to her wardrobe safari. “I have to. Otherwise I won’t sleep; I’ll keep worrying.”
Josh placed his hands on her shoulders and began massaging them. “Oh, you could probably find some way to relax…”
Donna relaxed a little and let the tension slip away. “What about a print of some kind?”
“No print,” he whispered, kissing her neck.
“Blue?”
“Hmm?”
“How about something blue?” she asked. “Wait a minute…”
Josh stopped and sighed. “Okay.”
Donna left the bedroom and returned minutes later with a garment bag in hand. She unzipped the bag to reveal a crisp powder blue suit. “I totally forgot about this. I hung this in the hall closet because there is still no room in here for it.”
“I think I’m going to bed early,” he sighed as he returned to his side of the bed and lay down.
“You don’t like this either?”
“It’s fine, Donna,” he said.
“Great!” Donna hung it on the back of the bathroom door and removed her robe. She crawled into bed next to Josh.
“Oh God,” he groaned. “You’re not going to ask me about your jewelry selection now are you?”
“No,” she smiled, skimming her finger along his bicep.
“What now?”
Donna kissed his cheek. “Nothing.”
“You’re not gonna be friendly for a few seconds then change your mind when you realize that you need to sleep so you look good on TV are you?” he asked, then instantly regretted it as a furrow formed between her eyes. “See, this is the kind of thing Toby worries about when I go on TV.”
Donna grinned. “The power of makeup can work wonders…”
“Can it?” he smirked. “Any time they put it on Leo he looks like a drag queen.”
“And that makes me…”
“Someone who
looks nothing like Leo,” he added. “See,
it’s saves like that that are the reason they keep letting me go on TV.”
****************
Operations
Bullpen
Thursday,
The Gridiron
Club had issued its invitations for
their annual Gridiron Dinner to be held Saturday. The club, which
consists of
60
“Josh,” Donna said, entering his office. “The Gridiron Club just called. They haven’t received your RSVP for the dinner.”
“Really,” he said nonchalantly as he kept reading his memo. “I’m sure it was up to my assistant to do that. I should fire her.”
Donna rolled her eyes and shuffled papers around his desk. She found the object in question. “Ah. There it is. Joshua Lyman and…”
“And?”
“And guest,” she said stiffly.
“Uh huh.”
“And guest,” she repeated.
“You said that already,” Josh replied. “Let them know we’ll be there.”
“You replied ‘And Guest,’” Donna huffed.
“Donna,” he sighed, placing the memo down. “What is it?”
Donna flopped into the visitor’s chair. “You replied ‘And Guest – Donna Moss.’ Not ‘Mrs. Lyman’, not ‘and wife.’”
“Is that what this is?” he asked. “You’re upset because you don’t have a title?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “That’s exactly what it is.”
Josh laughed.
“It’s not funny,” Donna argued.
“Donna, look,” Josh said. “Be happy you’re going. CJ didn’t even get an invitation this year. Of course, it could be because she was the target of the ribbing last year and wouldn’t talk to any club members for weeks.”
“Josh,” Donna sighed, “I just don’t want anyone at the event to confuse me as your assistant.”
“But you are my assistant.”
“You know what I mean.”
Josh pinched the bridge of his nose. “Donna, I think that everyone who will be there will know we are married. But, I have no doubt that you’ll correct them should they assume that you’re there on business.”
“Josh.”
“Donna,” he said sternly. “Drop it. If you want to discuss this, we can do it at home.”
“Of course,” she said calmly, standing. “You have staff in ten minutes.”
****************
That day and the next disappeared quickly, but not Donna’s mood. She was still grousing about being labeled “and guest” for the Gridiron Dinner. Donna never let on to anyone about Josh’s snafu – and she was becoming quite the professional. She spent her lunch hour surfing the online real estate sections, while Josh ate his lunch - alone in his office. Donna marked the sites and locations that interested her and jotted down the pertinent information. She then organized her choices based upon location, price, size and condition. When her lunch was over, she closed the internet and put her cards in a binder in her desk drawer.
Saturday evening
Lyman apartment
“Donna!”
Donna came out of the bathroom, pulling her elegant ponytail tight. She was wearing an emerald green cocktail dress with matching faux earrings. “What do you need?”
“My tie,” he explained, as he dangled the cloth from his fingertips.
“Come here,” she huffed. She began tying his tie.
“Are you going to choke me?” he smirked.
“Don’t tempt me,” Donna grumbled, as she finished. “There you go.”
Josh looked at her. “You’re still pissed at me.”
“Yes,” she replied as she opened her evening bag. She pulled out her lipstick case and began applying.
“It was an invitation,” he explained. “What does it matter?”
Donna said nothing. She put her lipstick back in her bag and then grabbed Josh’s cell phone from the nightstand and put it in there as well.
“I am Joshua Lyman,” Josh said. “You are my guest. What is the problem? I’m taking you with me.”
“They’ll think that I’m there to work,” she said simply.
“We have been over this!” he replied. “You were pouting and didn’t listen to what I said. You were the one who laid down the rule that the office is the office. You are at the office to work. You decided all that before this all happened.”
“We’ve gotta go,” Donna replied. “Grab your pager and jacket.”
Josh clipped his pager onto his belt and put on his jacket. “What do you want me to do? Take out a full page ad in The Post?”
“No.”
“Good, ‘cause that costs a lot of money,” he smirked.
“Just get in the damn car,” she sulked. “We have to be there in 20 minutes.”
The couple left the apartment and descended the stairs. They made their way to Josh’s car and entered.
“How do you want to be introduced?” Josh asked, starting the engine.
“As your wife, Josh.”
“But you do still work for me, correct?”
“Yes,” she said shortly.
“I’m pretty sure that Congress knows we’re married,” Josh pointed out. “On the other hand; these are Congressional people. They need charts and diagrams to understand our thing. It costs money to run the government.”
“Just do what you want, Joshua,” Donna said hotly, crossing her arms and looking out the window. “Just do whatever you want.”
Josh paused momentarily before speaking. “Did you remember the tickets?”
“In your breast pocket.”
Josh padded his chest. “Is there anything else?”
“No.”
“Are you going to answer me with more than one word for the rest of the night?” he sighed.
“Maybe.”
“Yeah.”
****************
Sunday afternoon
Donna
flopped on the couch after putting away the groceries. She spread out
her
periodical choices—copies of The
Washington Post, the Baltimore Sun
and the
As if that wasn't enough to keep him busy, Lyman also recently got married to Donnatella Moss.
Moss is a fellow staffer who has worked with the Deputy Chief of Staff since the 1998 Presidential Campaign and currently works under his direction at the White House. While at the office, she has to follow his orders, at home things are different.
"I'm not in-charge there," he said. "I think, actually, I'm on probation. I'm getting on-the-job training at this whole spouse thing. It's a good thing this is not like a regular job or she'd have fired me by now."
If it sounds like he's playing the nagging wife card, he's not. In fact, Lyman takes exception to anyone making the slightest inference of that. His respect for his wife in her professional capacity is extended to their lives outside the office as well.
"There isn't enough time in my day to give her the credit she deserves," he said. "Actually, I wouldn't even know where to begin if I tried because she does literally a little bit of everything. I'm not kidding when I say I wouldn't be here at this interview if not for her diligence--and that's not just because she makes sure my tie is.... you know, tied. She did a pretty good job, too. Check it out."
After admiring the straight and
well-tied knot, he continued to praise the
"Anyone who works in DC politics knows she is the impenetrable gatekeeper for my office," Lyman said. "She is also my chief researcher, and for that reason she has logically become the first level of devil's advocate I go through on any number of subjects. I've been described as a political savant, but I have no innate gift. What I accomplish is done through trial and error (more error than trial some days) and countless hours of hard work. Through it all, there's only one person who has been there for every moment, every idea since starting at the White House. I've said it time and again that she is the greatest assistant inside the Beltway."
Political operatives who have ideas of trying to lure her away are warned. Any attempt to shanghai Moss or her skills will likely be taken personally by her boss.
She accompanied Lyman to the interview at the downtown eatery but did not come to the table during the interview. When asked to point her out, even after an hour long discussion and heavy lunch time traffic filling the establishment, Lyman knows precisely--almost instinctively—where she is. Without looking around, he answers.
"She's the gorgeous blond wearing red sitting at the table next to Congressman [Thomas] Gunther," Lyman said and noted that she was also the one who was lecturing him as the entered the restaurant. "She wanted to know what I was going to say for this. The problem is, I didn't know precisely. She did these index cards for me to prep me on the latest changes to the bill we were discussing. She spent a couple hours yesterday and this morning getting details that I asked for and so she was, understandably, curious how I would use it. She was also worried because there are times--rare though they are--that I say things which are... Well, let's say they keep things interesting at the office and Leo McGarry's hair hasn't always been quite that shade of gray."
Lyman's
self-deprecation is honest and accurate. He is both a loose
cannon and a
well-respected advisor to the President. He credits Moss with
providing
the grounding force needed during tumultuous times such as the shooting
in
"I have a unique and regrettable distinction among my political colleagues who support gun control," Lyman said. "I know what it's like to be the victim of gun violence. I’d rather do something so it doesn’t happen to others than talk about what happened to me. And while that was one of the most difficult events in my life, I don't think it compares to what Donna did. She stood by me while I moved through the various and difficult stages of recovery; she navigated the anxiety of a normally chaotic world turn upside down and inside out in the blink of an eye and weathered probably the most difficult and impatient patient ever to grace the planet. She did it without complaining, without flinching and without failing."
And she did this all this before the two even became involved on a personal level, Lyman points out. He said to call her efforts and endurance above and beyond the call of duty would still be too puny of a description.
"I had a lot of support from friends and family, but her care, concern
and
compassion stand out from the rest," he said. “She is my
assistant,
my partner; she’s the woman who makes me look good in more ways than
one.
She is exquisite and indomitable, and if I don't wrap this up soon,
she's going
hurt me because she has to get me prepped for an economic meeting at
Donna
closed the magazine and blinked back an unexpected tear.
“Bastard,”
she said with a pleased scowl.
Up next: Chapter 10, A Stolen Season