7.
Chris opens his apartment door and Mike enters, along with two secret service agents. We normally
hang out at Matt’s when we’re looking to…well, hang out… but Josh and Matt seem to have this
“understanding” that they should probably avoid contact for a little while. Believe me when I tell you
that this makes my husband miserable.
“Excuse us, sir.” One agent says to Chris who nods and sweeps his hand out through the apartment
for the agents to sweep. Mike leans up against the door as he waits for Ellie’s permission to enter.
“Your gun’s not good enough?” Chris asks him and Mike shrugs in reply. That’s when I notice the
tension. Mike looks tense and Ellie looks…Yikes. Unhappy.
“Thank you, sir.” One agent says to Chris while the second allows Ellie to enter the apartment. Just as
the door closes, I see them take up position outside the door.
“What’s the matter?” Josh asks when he notices the distance Ellie’s keeping from Mike, who sits on
the arm of the couch.
“Nothing.” Ellie says quietly sitting down.
“Are you sure?” Josh asks her. “Because that particular look runs in your family and I’ve been on the
receiving end of it.”
“It’s fine.” She says stiffly.
“Ellie…” Mike sighs looking over at her.
“I really don’t want to get into it here.” She replies softly.
“Why?” Mike asks “There’s no reporters here.”
“Just drop it.” She says quietly. She’s obviously uncomfortable. Ellie doesn’t seem to have the same
fight in her that the other members of her family do. Josh says Zoey and Charlie will fight right in his
office. The First Lady and the President are notorious about shaking the walls of the Oval Office
when they fight. But Ellie is not very confrontational.
“No. Eleanor…” Mike sighs. He runs a hand down his face, stands up and faces her. “You’re pissed.”
“It’s nothing.” She stands up and moves to the other side of the room.
“If you’re pissed, you’re pissed. It’s okay to be pissed off at me.”
“You want me to be mad at you?” she asks incredulously.
“No, of course not. But if you are, then you are and it’s okay. You can’t keep all this anger in.”
“What anger?”
“You’re pissed at me…”
“You punched a reporter!” she yells.
“You punched a reporter?” Josh is immediately in damage control mode. This is more than Mike’s
girlfriend; this is the First Daughter.
“I’m a federal agent. He was asked to step back, he didn’t, you’re the President’s daughter.” Mike said
evenly.
“And it’s going to be everywhere.” She hisses.
“Guess what, then it’s everywhere!” he shoots back.
She sits down and shakes her head. My heart really goes out to Ellie. This is just so not who she is.
All she wants to do is be a doctor like her mom and have a normal low-key life.
“He’s going to be so mad.” She whispers, shaking her head and the tears fall. The fight deflates out
of Mike and he kneels down in front of her and pushes her hair out of her face.
I’ve never really seen this side of Mike before. He’s really come to care about her a great deal. And
dating the President’s daughter can’t possibly be easy.
“Well, he’s going to have to wait his turn, Ellie, because it’s YOUR turn to be mad. You’re mad at him
and you have every right to be.” He says softly.
“You wouldn’t say that if he was standing in this room.” She chuckles.
“No, I wouldn’t because he’s the President of the United States and I’m a federal agent, but I’m talking
about your father right now. I know you’re mad. Aren’t you mad?”
“YES!” she suddenly shouts and jumps up. He’s so stunned he sits back on his heels and simply
watches her a minute before he stands up. “I’m pissed! I’m pissed that I was born into a life of political
spotlight and I hate it! Politics doesn’t interest me, it never has! I don’t care about internal polls and
poachable districts. If I disagree on an issue with my dad, I can’t tell anyone because it’ll be on CNN!
The balls and the gowns and the campaigning, none of that is me and they don’t get it!
“But it’s not even that! Most of all, I’m pissed that my father is sick and he’s going to die from this one
day and it’s not going to be pretty when the end comes. My father is a beautiful mind and it’s going to
turn to shit! THIS right here is why I became a doctor. To do medical research and find a way to stop
this.
“No, my father’s not perfect and he doesn’t get me. And he didn’t tell his staff about it and I kept his
secret and Zoey kept his secret and Liz kept his secret and my mother kept his secret because my
father was meant to be President of the United States and he does good, but I am not strong enough
for this life right now! And if you’d let me answer the reporter’s question instead of knocking him out
like Rambo, I would have told him that OF COURSE I knew about my father’s illness! No, I was never
going to say a word about it to anyone and yes of course I knew it was still considered lying, but even
high profile political families protect each other.
“Yes, Mike, I’m pissed at my father. I am so close, I am so close to being out of this life and an actual
private citizen. This is the last job he’s ever going to have. My father’s never understood
me…ever…but he loves me anyway and he sang to me when I was a little girl and if I walked over to
the White House right now and asked him to sing to me again, he’d do it, and it’d be terrible because
he’s an awful singer, but he’ll do it. And so I kept his secret because he’s my dad.”
She sighs deeply and she looks like you could knock her over with a feather right now. Josh
looks…well, stunned. Chris is more than a little amazed as well.
“Eleanor.” Mike chuckles stepping forward to her. “That was awesome!”
She laughs a little with him and he puts his arms around her and hugs her tightly. I never really
considered the kind of life Ellie and her sisters were brought up in. It’s never been just the
presidency. Her father’s a Nobel prize winner, her mother’s a doctor. Her father holds a PhD in
economics, was a Congressman AND a Governor before he was President of the United States. I
imagine the goal posts are pretty far in that family.
“And you’re wrong. You ARE strong enough for this life now. You just need to open up and not be so
scared of it all. No one’s going to hurt you. First, they have to get by the secret service and then they
have to get by me. And you can say whatever you want --”
“Michael…”Josh warns firmly.
“She’s a person with an opinion.” Mike counters.
“And that’s fine.” Josh replies evenly. “But that there is a bigger conversation than this.”
“Well then tell her who she needs to have it with!”
“She’s had it.” Josh says quietly and Ellie hangs her head. My heart goes out to her and Mike looks
over at Ellie with the rest of us.
“It’s just the way it is, Mike.” She whispers. My heart just breaks for her.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
“Name?”
“Donnatella Moss Lyman.”
“Occupation?”
“Media Director to Congressman Matthew Skinner, Connecticut Fourth District.”
“How long have you held this position?”
“About two years.”
“Are you married?”
“Yes.”
“What is your husband’s name?”
“Joshua Lyman.”
“What is Mr. Lyman’s occupation?”
“Deputy Chief of Staff for Strategic Planning to President Josiah Bartlet.”
“How long has he held that position?”
“Objection.” Ainsley pipes in. “Relevance?”
“Mr. Lyman is a subpoenaed witness to these proceedings.”
“And you can get that information when you depose him, Cliff.” Ainsley counters.
“Fine.” Cliff Calley, the counsel for the majority sighs. Ainsley felt pretty good going into this
deposition. Apparently she and Cliff knew each other in law school and she seems to think he’s a
decent guy. “Ms. Moss – or do you go by Mrs. Lyman?”
“Mrs. Lyman, please.” I say. I see his little play there. My husband did nothing wrong, Clifford. I’m not
ashamed to use his name.
“Mrs. Lyman,” he says again. “When did you first come to learn about the President’s M.S.?”
“A couple of weeks ago. An envelope was dropped off in Congressman Skinner’s mail. It had no
return address on it and no accompanying correspondence. The envelope only contained medical
records of President Bartlet which were reported stolen earlier in the week.” I slide a glance over at
the majority leader. He doesn’t actually squirm, but he doesn’t seem all that comfortable at the
moment.
“Has your husband ever discussed this matter with you?”
“No.”
“He’s never commented that he knew about this condition?”
“No.”
“Never once mentioned any suspect symptoms the President had?”
“Objection.” Ainsley sighs dramatically. “How many different ways are you going to ask that question,
Cliff?”
“How many different ways are there, Ainsley?” Cliff shoots back.
“It’s asked and answered.” Ainsley tosses back coolly. I love seeing her in lawyer mode. I wish it wasn’
t while she was acting as MY lawyer though.
“Mrs. Lyman, do you keep a diary?”
Oh shit.
“No.”
After a moment, I feel Ainsley’s foot apply pressure to mine.
“You don’t keep a journal or a diary or anything else where you might record your thoughts?”
“No.” I say again.
“Gentlemen,” Ainsley says suddenly rising and all the men in the room instantly rise out of their chairs
in response. “I’m feeling unwell at present and I don’t think I’m able to continue this afternoon.”
“Mrs. Lyman doesn’t need counsel present.” The majority leader sneers.
“Obviously not, sir, but she has retained counsel and has expressed her wish to attend these
proceedings with counsel, which means you are not at liberty to continue without her counsel
present.” Ainsley counters. “My office will contact you this afternoon to reschedule.”
She smiles demurely as only Ainsley can and then yanks me out of my seat and tugs me out the door.
I’m thinking I’m in trouble.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Chapter 8
I drag my cousin’s lying ass out of the hearing room. No, Southern women don’t usually speak this
way, but at the moment I am, as my cousin-in-law Josh likes to say, supremely pissed.
“Ainsley--” She tries to talk to me but I cut her off with a wave of my hand. “Ainsley!” She tries again. I
turn on a dime and face her, our noses are about 12 inches apart.
“Do not open your mouth. Do not say one more word until we’re in my vehicle. Do you understand
me?” I instruct her. She nods solemnly and follows me to the car, being careful to keep a good five
feet of distance between us at all times. I think I may be radiating anger waves off my entire body right
now, because NOBODY approaches us or so much as waves in our direction as we leave the building.
Once we get into my car, I clearly and objectively lay out my position on the deposition we just
abruptly ended.
“What in the HELL possessed you to lie to a Congressional committee under OATH, DONNA!”
“Just wait a second.” Donna ties to calm me down, but that ship has sailed.
“I will NOT wait a second. YOU asked me to represent you in this --”
“I know, and I’m so grateful to you for --”
“You told me it would be straightforward testimony with no curve balls coming our way.” I continue.
“That was certainly what I was anticipating --”
“And the first thing you do? I mean, like the first thing out of your mouth after the preliminaries is a LIE
about your DIARY?!” I throw up my hands. “I’m an Officer of the Court, Donna, I can’t knowingly let
you lie about something in sworn deposition!”
“Oh, but if you didn’t know I had a diary everything would be okay?” She demands.
“I DO know.” I counter. I’m not getting into a hypothetical fight about this with her. “Lots of other
people know too, I’m guessing. Do you know what the penalty is for perjury? Do you want to have this
precious baby in jail?” I say more to scare her than anything else. No way is my cousin going to jail
over a diary.
My words, however, have another effect, other than the ones I originally intended. Donna breaks
down in heaving sobs.
“Oh shit, oh shit. Donna, stop. I’m really sorry. I just…I wanted you to see the serious nature of this
situation. I honestly didn’t want to make you… Donna please, stop.” Now I’m crying too and holding
Donna in my arms. Two hormonal women sobbing in the front seat of my car. All we need now is some
paparazzi to take a shot of us and write a creative headline.
“I’m sorry, Ainsley.” Donna continues to cry. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
“It’s not ME that’s going to- Donna, honey, why would you lie about something as irrelevant as a
diary?”
“If I told them I had a diary, what would happen next?” Donna asks me.
“They’d want to see it to confirm that you didn’t know about the MS before you stated on the record
that you knew about it.” I tell her.
“Right.” Donna nodded like that was the end of the discussion. “That’s what I thought.”
“Donna, we’re going to have to turn over the diary.”
“No!” She shouts and starts crying again.
“Donna, it’s the law. I can help you walk the testimony back and then we turn it over. They’ll look at it,
determine you had nothing to hide, and your part of this nightmare will be over.” I try to calm her but it
only makes her more upset. Then a thought occurs to me. “Donna…are you telling me…did you know
about the MS before this? Did you lie about that too?”
“NO!” She insists and I believe her so I feel a wave of relief.
“Then it’s very simple, I’ll talk to Cliff and we’ll straighten this minor incident out before dinner.”
“I will NOT turn over my diary.” Donna says steadfastly. “I will burn it to ashes before I give it to
ANYONE on that fucking committee. Do YOU understand me?” I nod, mostly in shock, at my cousin’s
bizarre reaction. Yes, it sucks having your privacy invaded like that, but nobody cares about the
thoughts and feelings of a Congressional staffer when the President lied about having M.S.
Just as I’m formulating a new response, Donna opens the car door and leaves without another word.
“Donna! Donna, wait!” I call out but she’s half way out of the parking lot already. That woman can
move fast. I contemplate chasing her down, but I don’t think it will do any good. So reluctantly, I pick
up the phone and call the one person I know she’ll listen to.
“Josh Lyman.”
“Josh, it’s Ainsley.” I reply.
“Ainsley? Shouldn’t you be in a deposition with my wife right now?” He asks.
“Well…see I was, but this thing happened and I had to end it unexpectedly and --”
“Ainsley…” Josh has this tone in his voice now and it’s a little scary, actually.
“I think it would be good if you could manage to- Are you busy right now?”
“Ainsley…” Okay, now he’s growling.
“Donna needs you. She needs you now.” I cut to the chase. “They asked her in the deposition if she
kept a diary and she lied and said no, so I had to end the deposition. But when I told her we’d have to
turn it over she got…very upset and threatened to burn it rather than turn it over. Then she walked
out on me.” I explain as quickly as I can. “I’m sorry Josh, I don’t know what to do and I don’t think she
wants to talk to me anymore right now anyway.”
“I’ll find her Ainsley, thanks for the call.” He hangs up abruptly and I feel awful. I need to talk to
Sam…and find a muffin or two of some kind as fast as humanly possible.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Once Ainsley explained the circumstances of the deposition, I had no trouble figuring out what Donna
freaked out about. I book it double time to our place because I also know what my darling wife is
planning to do.
I find her in the bathroom weeping quietly, with her diary in one hand and a lighter in the other hand.
“Baby, don’t do that.” I say gently and her head whips over to face me. “That’s not the way to fix this.”
“Yes, it is.” Donna sounds determined. Shit.
“No, it’s not. That’s breaking the law. You don’t break the law, Donna. Neither of us does. That’s not
who we are.”
“Maybe you should have made that clear to the President.” She counters.
“I have. And I will again, if you want me to. You can come with.” I offer and predictably, she rolls her
eyes and scoffs. I try to take the diary from her.
“No! They don’t. Get. This.” She shouts. “This…job has invaded every aspect of our lives; every facet
of it, Joshua! They don’t get my thoughts, feelings, joys and fears! They don’t get those!”
“Donna…”
“When I left Freeride and packed up to come here? I wrote it all in here. My humiliation and fear, my
parents’ anger my hope that Ainsley would let me stay with her or I’d be homeless? All of it is in here.
When we first met is in here. The first time we made love is in here. All my memories; beautiful and
ugly are in this book.”
She gives me the highlights, but I know what she’s leaving out. She’s leaving out the heartbreak of
trying to get pregnant and the horror of my PTSD diagnosis.
“I know.” I tell her and my tone tells her I know what she left out too.
“I have to destroy this, Josh, or they will destroy you with it.” She cries. See? This is why I love this
woman so much. It’s her thoughts and feelings written all over all those pages. I know it would
humiliate her to have anyone else read them. I’VE never even read any of it. But her overriding
concern isn’t about people reading about her embarrassments and difficulties. Her one and only
concern, I guarantee you, is in trying to protect me from the political vultures who’d use this to hurt
me. I love her so much.
I kneel down on the floor in front of her and take her hands in mine; ignoring the lighter and the diary
for the moment.
“Donna, I need you to do something for me.”
“What?” She asks warily, still crying.
“I need you to give me the diary.”
She’s shaking her head ‘no’ before I even finish the sentence.
“I won’t do anything with it unless and until we both agree, I swear. Just let me hold it for now; keep it
safe until we decide what to do next.”
“You promise you won’t give it to them?” She asks, completely breaking my heart.
“Not unless we both agree to.” I cross my heart. “Please trust me with this, Donna. I’ll take care of it.
Ainsley and I will figure something out.”
“You should get Sam too. You’re not a real lawyer.”
“I would, but there’s a limit to the number of people I care about that I want to involve in a criminal
act.” I drawl and she starts crying harder.
“Ainsley said….I could go to jail.” She falls into my arms, but thankfully lets me take the diary from her.
“That’s not going to happen.” I assure her. What the hell is Ainsley filling her head with?
“I should never have written anything down. It’s all my fault!” She tells me.
“That’s ridiculous.” I pick her up and carry her into the bedroom. “You have every right to record your
life in your own diary in your own home.”
“It doesn’t seem like it.”
“I know. This is all because of me. I’m so sorry my job brought all this down on us.” I tell her sincerely.
“I’m going to find a way to fix this. The most important thing to me right now is that you calm down and
try to relax; take a nap. It’s not good for you or the baby to get so upset.” I play my ace in the hole;
the baby. She will do ANYTHING to protect our child and we both know it.
“I can’t sleep.” She whines.
“I’ll put a movie in and then I’ll call Matt and tell him not to expect you back today.”
“I can’t stay here by myself.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to get back. The President needs --” I pause in the middle of the sentence. Do I
really care what the President needs right now? Really? Without another word to Donna, I pick up the
phone and call Margaret.
“Margaret? It’s Josh. I’m feeling…sick and I won’t be able to make it back to the office. Let Leo know
for me, will you? Thanks.” I hang up the phone and see the most beautiful smile on my wife’s face. “I
don’t think I even know what to do when you’re playing hooky from the office.” I smile back.
“I think I can help you with that.” She offers and I slide onto the bed with her.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
“I thought Josh was going to have the finished language for me to review by now.” The President
complains.
“Yeah, well, he went home sick.” I admit, waiting for the explosion.
“Sick?” He repeats. “He looked fine this morning; pissed, but fine.”
I manage to quell the urge to tell him he ought to get used to that expression and settle for a direct
answer. “Something came up in Donna’s deposition. It was cut short, Josh got a phone call, and then
he called Margaret saying he was sick.” I shrug. “That’s all Jackie knew…or all she was willing to tell
Margaret.”
“You don’t think there’s a problem with the pregnancy?” The President asks, real concern coloring his
voice. I wish Josh could hear it. It might go a ways in helping to repair their relationship. To say things
have been tense around here is a gross understatement.
“I didn’t get that impression, no sir.” I reply. “But Ainsley Hayes is coming up to give me the play by
play, so…”
“Alright, you’ll tell me if there’s something I should…” I look closely at my friend and see something in
his face that I haven’t seen recently; uncertainty.
“Yes, sir.” I assure him. “Josh will come around, Mr. President. He’s just…disappointed right now.”
“Disappointed?” Jed laughs humorlessly. “That’s the least of it.” He pauses a second and seems to
be weighing the pros and cons of saying something to me.
“What?” I prompt him.
“It’s just…I didn’t mean to…If I had had any idea then, that keeping this secret would cause all of
…THIS now…I would have told you. I would have told the whole team, the whole country.” Jed’s nearly
shouting now. “Donna doesn’t need to be dealing with the stress of a Congressional deposition right
now and that’s just one tiny part of the repercussions.”
“I know.” I think the best thing I can do right now is just listen.
“I never dreamed I had an actual shot at winning. I never dreamed…” Jed shakes his head and gets
up to pace. “Then after Illinois, I looked around and I could taste it, Leo, God help me I could taste it
and for the first time I REALLY wanted it.”
“Then I rationalized it. The M.S. wasn’t affecting me in any way. I was married to a world class doctor
who would KNOW if it was affecting me and she said it wouldn’t show up on anything so nobody would
have to do anything unethical.”
“Sounds like you’re still rationalizing pretty good, there.” I comment.
“I’ve gotten pretty good at it over the years.” Jed laughs again. “Now I look around at these people I
was so proud to be leading and I can see I’ve lost their respect. I don’t know what to do to fix it Leo.”
“Me either, but the only way things are going to start to get better is if you tell them what you just told
me. You need to apologize.” I pause. “I know that’s not an activity you engage in a lot…”
“I know how to apologize, Leo.” He says impatiently.
“To someone besides Abby?” I press.
“Well…” He chuckles.
“Well.” I repeat, then I see Margaret signaling me from the hall. The President nods his permission for
me to go. When I get into my office, Ainsley Hayes is waiting for me. First things first.
“Is Donna okay?” Ainsley blinks at my question. “I heard the deposition got called off. Are Donna and
the baby okay?”
“Oh! Yes, they’re both…fine.” Ainsley nods a little too vigorously.
“What aren’t you telling me, Ainsley?”
“Donna’s a little…upset.” She hedges. I hate dealing with lawyers. “There was a need for a break, so I
took one. We’ll resume tomorrow afternoon.”
“Then I shouldn’t be worried?”
“Well…”
“Ainsley…”
“Leo, I think you’re just going to have to trust me on this when I tell that there are things, which you in
your present position, just don’t need to know all the details of. I mean, either you trust me to handle
the intricacies of these depositions or you don’t and if you don’t then you should clearly --”
“Alright!” I have to interrupt her or I’m going to throw myself out a window. “You’ll tell me if there’s
something I need to know?”
“Need to know? Yes.” She agrees a little too quickly.
“Okaaaaaay. Thanks.” I dismiss her and she practically runs from the office. I’d bet all the cash in my
wallet she’s going down to spill whatever it is to Sam. And I carry a lot of cash in my wallet. Oddly, her
spilling to Sam makes me feel better. Ainsley’s a first class attorney but she doesn’t always see the
political forest for the trees. Sam will know if I need to be in the loop, but I hope Ainsley’s right and it’s
all under control. I would like to have just one day without something blowing up in my face.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
9.
I’m stuck.
I’m blocked.
I’m stumped.
I have NO idea what to type. My cursor is sitting on a blank page just blinking there monotonously and
mocking me.
Blink.
Blink.
Blink.
This sucks.
I’ve lost my talent. I’ve lost my pizzazz for the written word. I’ve lost my interest in writing anything.
But beyond that, I’ve lost the President’s voice.
Who is this man I’ve been writing for all these years? Has he just been spewing my words out and not
believing in any of them? How can I write for him when I have absolutely no idea if he likes what I
make him say?
“Dear America.” I type. “I’m a schmuck and I’m sorry.” I smile ruefully at the screen for a minute before
continuing. “I lied. Why you ask? Because I’m a politician and that’s what we do.”
But that’s not what he does. Somewhere deep down inside me, I can hear that voice. “He’s still the
real thing. He just screwed up. The man is only human.” The voice sounds annoyingly like Josh.
I delete the text and close my laptop as my lovely wife slams into my office.
Damn, she’s pissed. What’d I do?
“Aaagghh!” she shouts and slams the door, then closes the blinds. She kicks the couch. She picks up
a binder and slams it on a chair, kicks the couch again, and then slams the binder on the desk a few
times.
“Ainsley?” I ask with great trepidation. “Cupcake? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She smiles demurely.
“Oh, okay.” I reply completely unconvinced as she starts to slam the binder around again.
“Buttercup?” She hates all the pet names, but as my wife and I agree on…pretty much nothing, I have
my fun. “How’d Donna’s deposition go?”
“Oh, just fine.” She drawls with a smile that just oozes Southern politeness. I know that smile well. It’s
the one her incredibly Republican parents give me all the time.
“I sense sarcasm.” I quip.
“You’ve always been so observant, sweetie.”
“What happened?” I ask.
“I really don’t think I should tell you.” She sighs heavily and sits down.
“Shit. She perjured herself?” I whisper. Ainsley’s eyes go real wide. Nice poker face, honey.
“Sweetheart, it’s all over your face and there’s really no other explanation.”
“I told Josh. I think Donna’s pissed, but I had to. She was going to do something illegal!”
“Going to?” I arch a brow.
“I mean something else.” She shakes her head.
“What’d she lie about? I mean, there’s no way Donna could have known about the President’s MS,
unless…” I break off. “Well, unless Josh knew and told her which is an impossibility on all fronts.”
Toby’s pissed as all hell that Josh found out first. I’m reasonably sure in the back of Toby’s mind, he
thinks Josh knew all along and the three of them didn’t trust the rest of us enough to tell us.
Now, I’ll grant you that Josh as DCOS is often on the inside of things we have no idea about, but he
would have NEVER dragged me into all of this knowing that. No way. I believe Josh when he says he
found out immediately before we did.
“She didn’t.” Ainsley says. This is a fine line here now. Donna’s not just someone Ainsley took to a
deposition, she’s family. This conversation right now is between me and my wife about her cousin and
something stupid she did. “Cliff asked if she kept a diary and she said no, only she does.”
“You know that for a fact?”
“Yes.”
“She admitted it to you?”
“Yes. She lived with me; I’ve seen her write in it.” She nods. “Sam, I can certainly understand the
embarrassment she’d feel about having the diary turned over to the committee to read, but when it
comes down to it, it’s just her opinions on things and --”
“Honey, open your eyes.” I say gently. “If Donna’s diligent about keeping a diary, don’t you think she’s
written stuff in there about her husband?”
I wait a moment as Ainsley draws all the appropriate connections and her eyes go real wide. “Oh my
God.”
“Donna’s not going to offer Josh up on a silver platter to the Republicans. She’ll sooner burn the book
and go to jail for it.” I shrug.
“Sam! I can’t let this continue. I HAVE to tell the committee.”
“You have to talk to Josh.” Sam says.
“Sam, I can’t be a party to --”
“No, no, no, no!” I cut her off immediately. “I’m not saying that at all. Of course you have to do
something about it. I’m just saying there’s more than one way to skin a cat.”
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
I lean back in the booth as my old friend slides in across from me.
“You look like an idiot.” I say to Matt. He’s wearing a Mets hat and sunglasses. “Are you actually in
disguise?”
“No.” he immediately denies and I keep looking at him. “Maybe.”
“All of Washington D.C. knows we’re friends.” I point out.
“You realize you picked a pizza joint in Vienna, right?” he shoots back.
“It’s convenient to the Metro.” I shrug.
“Bull shit.”
“This is ridiculous.” I reply. “EVERYONE knows we’re friends. They all know my wife works for you. No
one’s going to believe we haven’t talked in weeks. I want my friend back.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I really have to talk to you.”
“Is this going to be bad for you?”
“That’s a gray area.” I reply.
“What’d you do?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“What’d the President do?”
“Other than not disclose an illness to the American public? Nothing that I know if.” I reply. “No, it’s
about Donna.”
“DONNA did something bad?”
“Donna did something VERY bad.” I say lowering my voice. Ainsley’s having a cow, which is
completely understandable. She wanted to call the committee now, but I convinced her to wait a day
and push off Donna’s dep a few more days.
“What’s going on?” Matt looks very concerned.
“She lied to the committee. They asked her if she kept a diary and she said no.”
His eyes go real wide and he leans back in the booth. “Oh, shit.” He says on an exhale.
“I walked in the bathroom seconds before she was going to light the thing on fire.”
“If she didn’t know about the President’s MS, other than the personal violation of the committee
reading her thoughts, why wouldn’t she want it turned over?” he asks and I look at him a long
moment. “You.”
“Yeah.” I confirm.
“You’ll never get that book from her.”
“I have it.”
“She’s going to let you turn it over?” He asks incredulously.
“No, she’ll probably divorce me if I did that. I’m thinking of calling Cliff and letting just him read it. Or
Ainsley will call Cliff. Ainsley vouches for him.”
“He’s a decent guy.” Matt nods. “Want me to do it?”
I’ve really missed my friend. This guy wants to run for President of the United States one day and
because we’ve always been closer than brothers, he’s willing to dive right into these ethically gray
waters to help me if I needed him to. But that’s what got the current President in hot water and I’m
obviously not going to do that to the future one sitting across from me.
“Thanks, but Ainsley went to college with him. I’m sure she can handle it.” I smile. “I don’t want you
any deeper than I’m making you now. I just kinda wanted your read on the situation.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming. I should have warned her about that kind of question.”
“You’re not supposed to be talking about it.”
“Yeeaaah…” he says slowly. “We’re sitting here talking about it in a covert pizzeria in Bumblefuck,
Virginia. That ship has sailed, buddy.”
I chuckle and look down and shake my head as the waitress comes and takes our order. Matt orders
a pie and a pitcher of beer.
“Aren’t you pissed at her?” he asks me.
“I’m trying to be.” I confess. “I mean, most of me is ragingly pissed off at her. She’s willing to perjure
herself, destroy evidence and go to jail so I don’t get bad press.”
“It’s not just bad press, Josh.”
I press my palms to my eyes and sigh. “Yeah. Which is why it makes it hard for me to be completely
pissed. I can’t let her go to jail. If I have to move to Canada in the middle of the night, I’m not letting
her go to jail.”
“Cliff’s a decent guy, but I think you should let me make the call. Ainsley’s a lawyer, and a damn good
one, but she’s not a politician.”
“Neither is Cliff.” I reply as the waitress brings our beer.
“Yeah, but this needs a certain finesse.” He says.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Yeah, that’s a no.” He says.
“How’s Scott?” I ask changing the subject.
“Good. He’s tired of my whining.”
“Whining about what?”
“Not seeing my friend.”
“He should commiserate with Donna.”
“He has been.”
“So, this is pretty serious with him. You’re living together.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“If you were on my side of the Marriage Recognition Act…”
“Stop.” He warns.
“I’m just saying.”
“I don’t know how many barriers I’m going to be able to break in four years, you know?” he replies.
“What?”
“Listen, I’m not an idiot. I have a big enough challenge ahead of me, but I don’t know how the country
would feel about having a male First Lady.”
“Does Scott even know you’re thinking about running?” I ask as the pizza comes. Matt shrugs and my
jaw drops. “Bad. Idea.”
“I just think I’d have a better chance if I were single.”
“I don’t think it’s going to make a damn bit of difference.”
“Let’s just stick to the felony thing right now, okay?”
I pick up my pizza and shake my head. I don’t like this plan one bit. But he’s right. First things first.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
10.
“Will you please, for the love of God, go home?” He asks me again. I simply shake my head ‘no’
guessing that nobody wants to hear me say it again any more than I want to say it again.
“There’s no reason for you to be here for this.” He continues unabated. My husband can be such an
idiot sometimes.
“There’s no reason for YOU to be here. It’s my diary.” I maintain. Ainsley, Sam and Matt are all trying
their best to ignore both of us.
“As your legal representative, I can turn over the document to Cliff and wait until he’s done looking at
it. None of you need to be here.” Ainsley chimes in. I think she’s still pretty pissed at me for lying in
the deposition, but that’s fine because I’m pretty pissed at her for calling Josh and breaking attorney
client privilege. In fact, I may have a cause of action. I paid her a buck!
“I don’t want you to be my legal representative anymore.” I sniff. “Consider yourself fired.”
“Gee, Donna, I’d refund your payment in full but I used it to buy a FRESCA from the vending machine
earlier!”
“Okay, hold on.” Sam intervenes just as I was about to stun her with a witty retort. “I think it’s fair to
say that tensions are running high and there is no shortage of raging hormones here--”
“Are you saying we’re overreacting because we’re pregnant?” Ainsley fires her venom at her husband.
“What a load of sexist bullshit.” I pile on.
“I was only pointing out that you two shouldn’t say anything you’ll regret in one moment of high
emotions.” Sam tries to defend himself.
“Say anything we’ll regret?” I repeat. “What, like you just did? Gee, Sam, are YOU hormonal?” I bat
my eyes at him and see that my cousin has taken up a similar expression sitting next to him.
“All right…I’m just going to sit here quietly and order another coffee.” Sam decides. Good choice.
“Oh, and some french fries.” Ainsley adds.
“Cupcake, it’s like ten at night. Are you sure you should be eating all that salt before--”
“I thought you were being quiet. Are you sure you want to question my menu choices right now?”
Ainsley shoots back. Sam turns a desperate look at Josh.
“Help?” He whispers, but Josh simply shrugs in response.
“Where the hell is this friend of yours?” Josh asks Matt.
“He’ll be here any minute.” Matt sighs. “You ask the guy to come out in the middle of the night for a
clandestine meeting with a group of Bartlet people…”
“I just hope you’re right about him. That he’s someone I can trust.” I say softly and feel Matt’s hand
stroking my back in support.
“He’s a good guy, Donna, and he gave me his word.” Matt explains. “I would never trust him with this if
I wasn’t certain that he’d keep his word.”
His ‘word’ was that he’d review the ‘document’ and if it substantiated my testimony that I never knew
anything about the MS before the anonymous envelope arrived in Matt’s office, then he’d hand it
back to us with no further questions and no charges of obstruction or lying under oath. It was a good
deal all the way around; as long as Cliff Calley keeps his word. It feels like a big gamble.
“If he doesn’t, we’d have lots of legal maneuvers to exhaust before you’d ever be looking at a criminal
conviction.” Sam assures me. Thanks Sam.
“Why are you here again?” Matt asks.
“Moral support.” Sam replies.
“Right.” Matt says like that much was obvious. Josh is tapping his fork on the table, over and over
again. I finally put my hand over his to stop the frantic motion. He sighs, looks at his watch, and put
his hand over mine and squeezes it. I look around the table at all the people dealing with the fallout of
my lie and a nice layer of guilt covers the thick layer of anxiety I’m already feeling. Then the door of
the coffee shop opens and Cliff Calley walks in. His eyes go a little wide at the large group gathered,
but he approaches us nonetheless.
“Cliff, thanks for coming.” Matt rises and shakes his hand.
“This better be just what you say it is.” Cliff notes.
“It is. I’m placing the welfare of two people I consider family in your hands. I’ve given them my word
that they can trust you. Don’t make me a liar.” Matt advises him and turns to Josh who has kept
possession of my diary since my ill fated attempt to burn the damn thing.
Josh reluctantly stands up and pulls the damn diary out of his backpack. He swaggers up to Cliff, no
other term for it fits, but holds off on passing the diary over.
“This diary has nothing to do with your cause of action and your cause of action has nothing to do
with my wife.” He says quietly. “If you use this in any way that causes her one more night of lost sleep
or ticks her blood pressure up at all, I will make it my life’s work to bury you and I mean that both
literally and figuratively.”
“Josh is going to be a father soon.” Matt explains and Cliff’s eyebrows go up.
“Congratulations.” He offers with a slight smile and holds his hand out for the diary. Josh hesitates
one last second and then slaps it into Cliff’s outstretched hand. I flinch.
“We’ll be waiting here. You’ve got an hour.” Josh instructs him. Cliff doesn’t waste a minute and
retreats to a booth in the back of the coffee shop to read all my private thoughts and feelings. I want
to die.
“French fries, Donnatella?” Josh asks me in what I’m sure is an effort to distract me from what’s going
on a few feet from us.
“Have I ever turned down french fries?” I shoot back. If he can pretend, then so can I.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
I lose track of how many times I pause in my scanning of the diary. It’s really quite a fascinating look at
Washington politics, but besides that, it’s a gripping personal narrative.
Both Ainsley and Matt have sworn that Donna (alone or through Josh) had no information about the
President’s MS before that envelope arrived at Matt’s office, but both denied ever reading the diary,
too, so their pronouncements were based on their opinion of Donna not facts. There must have been
a compelling reason for her to lie about the existence of this diary and I can’t just take the word of my
friends that it was personal.
However, I don’t have to go back too far before I see the reason she balked at turning this over to the
sworn enemies of her husband, to whom she is clearly devoted. PTSD. Damn. You’re doing your job,
serving the President of the United States, when BAM out of nowhere you’re hit by a bullet and
spiraled into a whole different ballgame. Her descriptions of his symptoms, her fear, and an
emergency room visit on Christmas Eve get to me.
I skim through a few more months as the pages are mostly consumed with wedding plans and then I
see another story unfolding. Month after month of being disappointed when they didn’t get pregnant,
doctor’s appointments, and dreams that were fading are finally put to rest just a short time ago with
the news that Donna is pregnant. I haven’t heard anything about it on the hill and that place lives for
gossip, so they must be keeping it quiet for now. I close the book feeling like a voyeur into the lives of
the Deputy Chief of Staff and his wife. I had to look at it; I needed to be sure, but now I can’t help
feeling slimy.
I take another look at the table across the room. It appears to be filled with friends; even though there
are hard corps members of both political groups present. There’s some laughter and though I can’t
make out the exact words, I can hear the tone and it’s light and teasing. They were reluctant to hand
me this diary and who can blame them?
Technically, I guess Donna Moss Lyman could have stuck to her lie and I don’t know if we’d have ever
found out, but there was something within them that insisted they come clean even if it meant putting
potentially dangerous information into the hands of someone who could hurt them with it. I don’t agree
with a SINGLE policy they’re pushing, but I can’t help admire what I’ve seen and read tonight.
I get up and slowly walk over to their table and hear their laughter pause, watch their expressions turn
serious. It’s like I’m the grim reaper or something.
“I think this belongs to you.” I hand Donna her diary and she hesitates before she takes it with
shaking fingers. She doesn’t meet my eye. I don’t blame her.
“And?” Ainsley asks. As Donna’s counsel of record, I’m sure she’s particularly interested in my
judgment of all this.
“There’s nothing in there that would help the committee do its job.” I tell her.
“And the rest?” Matt presses.
“Rest of what?” I play dumb.
“The rest of what’s in the diary.” Josh clarifies.
“What diary?” I ask and turn on my heel to leave them alone. I get outside the shop and make it
almost all the way down the street, but then I have to turn back and look. I just have to, you know?
I see Donna weeping on her husband’s shoulder. He’s holding her close and speaking softly to her. I
can tell by how close his mouth is to her ear. The rest of the group is just watching the two of them
with smiles of relief on their faces. I wonder if she’ll be adding this story to her diary…I doubt it.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
“Josh, wait!” I giggle while he kisses my neck. I’m trying valiantly to get the key in the lock of our front
door.
“Believe me, I’m waiting.” He drawls and continues his exploration of my neck which completely
distracts me from the task at hand.
“Josh!” I try to scold him but it comes out laughing. I’m hopeless at scolding him right now. He’s more
than a little drunk and I am high on life at the moment. After we got my diary back from Cliff Calley, the
guys insisted that we move our little ‘party’ to Matt’s place. Scott seemed a little surprised to see all of
us, but he handled it better than I would have had the positions been reversed.
Then the strangest thing happened. Josh started asking Scott all these questions that clearly didn’t
sit well with Matt. Matt, in retaliation, started giving Josh beer. Josh kept asking Scott questions, but
they got pretty mangled after the third beer so Matt didn’t seem to mind as much. Ainsley and I, due
to our current conditions, became the de facto designated drivers. Honestly, neither of us minded. It’s
been very stressful for our guys and they deserved to blow off a little steam. But that’s not to stay that
we won’t tell them they owe us for it later.
So this is how I end up with an inebriated Deputy Chief of Staff attached to my neck while I try to
unlock our door. Just when I decide to give up and just have sex with Josh in the hall, Mrs. Edelstein
from down the hall comes upon us.
“Oh, leave the poor girl alone, Joshua.” She chuckles. “Otherwise she’ll never get the door open.”
“Mrs. Edelstein!” My husband calls out with glee. He adores Mrs. Edelstein. Apparently, she helped
take care of him when he first got home after Rosslyn, bringing him homemade food and checking in
on him. He’s adored her ever since. “You look beautiful this evening.” He kissed her cheek.
“You look intoxicated, Josh.” She shoots back. For a 70 something year old woman, she can keep up
pretty well with my man.
“I am intoxicated by your beauty.” He counters. I give him a look. “The beauty surrounding me.” He
corrects himself. Even drunk my man can spin. I unlock the door and push it open in relief. “Isn’t my
Donna radiant?” Oh, brother.
“She certainly is.” Mrs. Edelstein remarks. I love this woman. “One might even say she’s glowing…”
My eyes grow wide. How could she possibly know-
“That’s `cause she’s pregnant.” Josh stage whispers and Mrs. Edelstein’s smile gets even wider.
“That’s wonderful news!” She exclaims and pulls me into her embrace. “Congratulations, honey.”
“Thanks.” I’m so overwhelmed by her correct guess and her joyful reaction that I can barely squeak
out the word and my eyes tear up again.
“Joshua, you need to take extra good care of Donna now, you hear?”
“I always do.” Josh protests. “Just tonight I--”
“Josh!” I interrupt him before his drunken ramblings get us both into trouble. “You need to come
inside now; sleep this off.”
“Okay.” He immediately capitulates and walks inside. Then, on second thought, he steps back into the
hall and kisses Mrs. Edelstein on the cheek again. “I’m going to be a dad.”
“You’ll be a very good one, I’m sure.” She pats his cheek and watches with amusement as he
drunkenly tries to navigate his way through our apartment.
“How did you know?” I ask her.
“I had six children, Donna. I know the signs. And you ARE glowing. Good night.”
“Night.” I call back to her before I shut and lock the door. I find Josh on our bed, fully clothed except
for his tie which somehow made it to the floor.
I kick off my shoes, which incidentally don’t feel right anymore, and lay down next to him. He raises his
head, smiles, and starts the kissing again.
“Josh…” I chuckle. “You need some sleep.”
“I need you more.” He contradicts me and it makes my insides turn to warm mush.
“Really?” I whisper. The last couple days have been hell because of me and I guess I just need to be
reassured here.
“Always.” He swears and puts his right hand over his heart. When I think about how close he came to
having his heart stop forever... I love him so much. “Besides,” He says with a smirk. “Mrs. Edelstein
told me to take extra good care of you. You wouldn’t want me to break my promise, would you?”
“No, that would be awful.” I reply and start kissing him back while I unbutton his shirt. What? I know
she said he should take care of me right now but the honest truth is that we always do better when we
take care of each other.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
11.
I’ve always found Air Force One to be pretty peaceful. I don’t know if it’s because the plane is so
damn big and you can easily, believe it or not, find a place to hide and lay low or maybe because it’s
because the President is so fond of flying at night, I’m not sure, but I typically feel pretty relaxed on Air
Force Once.
Except for this moment right now.
Because in this moment, Abbey and the President are telling me that my wife has just been rushed to
the emergency room with heavy bleeding and abdominal cramps. I feel the President’s hand come up
to my back. He probably wants to make sure I don’t pitch forward into his wife.
“A miscarriage?” I whisper.
“It’s definitely the fear right now, Josh, but there is a certain amount of bleeding and cramps that are
normal.” Abbey says.
That was sheer placation on her part. Minor bleeding and cramps doesn’t send someone to the
emergency room via screaming ambulance.
I suddenly feel lightheaded.
“Jed…” Abbey says in warning, but as the President reaches out for me, I dive into the bathroom and
throw up violently.
Right this minute, Donna is experiencing the lowest point in her life and I’m in the fucking Valhalla
Vector.
I sit up against the bathroom wall and Abbey kneels in the doorway. “It’s an empty consolation, Josh, I
know, but a woman’s body doesn’t just abort a healthy baby.” Well, at least she’s not trying to blow
sunshine in my face anymore.
I rub my eyes and choke back a sob. “Is Donna in a lot of pain right now?”
“The medics would have given her something in the ambulance.”
“They can’t give her something to stop it?”
“There’s nothing to stop a miscarriage, Josh.” Abbey says gently. “If that’s what’s going on, there’s
nothing anyone can do.”
“She’s all by herself.” I say, unashamed to let Abbey Bartlet see my anguish for my wife.
“Congressman Skinner is with her now.” Abbey says. “She was having dinner at the Congressman’s
house and Agent Casper and Ellie were there.”
“I want to talk to her.”
“They’ll have knocked her out, Josh.”
“How long until we land?” I ask tonelessly.
“Two hours.” The President says. “I’m so very sorry, Josh. There really aren’t any words. You’ll fly with
me back from Andrews to the White House.”
Great. Because the last thing I need right now is to land in Maryland and drive all the way to DC.
When you’re not traveling by Presidential motorcade, it’s a bit of a haul.
Abbey stands up and backs away, content to just let me sit here for a while I guess. I’m not really
compelled to move. I doubt the President and First Lady are going to send me off to the senior staff
cabin now. I run a hand down my face and pull out my cell phone. Matt answers on the first ring.
“Hey.”
“Is she awake?”
“No.”
I pause. “I don’t suppose…”
“I prayed and prayed, but…”
I clench my eyes shut and stifle another sob. Matt must hear it. “They drugged her really fast, Josh.
She didn’t feel most of it.”
“How did it happen? What was going on?”
“I was on the phone with Mike when she showed up at my house. She said she didn’t feel well and she
was afraid to be by herself. She didn’t say it, but I think she kinda knew what was going on. Of course,
I had no clue. When I told Mike that she was there and what was going on, Ellie dragged him over.
Ellie was the one who called the ambulance.”
“I don’t land for two hours.”
“I got nowhere to be.”
“Except work in the morning.”
“I got nowhere to be, Josh.”
“Thanks.”
I snap my phone shut and drop my head back against the wall.
A question that can’t be answered by science drives me up the wall. I’m not in the dark here. I did the
required pregnancy reading. Miscarriages just happen. My mind knows that, yet my heart is still
shattered.
Questions that science can’t answer are the scariest of all because then they fall back on something I
typically don’t possess: faith. Why did Donna’s body abort the pregnancy? Why didn’t that bullet kill
me? That bullet should have killed me and Donna should have been able to carry that child full term.
Surely that bullet didn’t kill me just so I could experience this shit, right? After all our trying and all our
disappointments, THIS is what we get?
Where’s this fair and just God? THIS is what I survived a bullet for? Only to be crushed by my
President and heartbroken for my child?
My phone rings again and Matt’s number scrolls across the screen.
“Yeah?” I answer.
“Josh?” She’s so faint, I barely even heard her.
“I love you, baby; I’ll be there soon.”
She comes to pieces through the phone and though I can’t hold her, I cry with her. THIS is what I
survived that bullet for. For her.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
As I move to through the corridors of GW, my feet feel like they’ve got cinder blocks tied to them.
Each step I take brings me closer to my reality. Once I cross the threshold into Donna’s room, I will no
longer be a pending father.
I am still, however, a husband and when I see her lying in the bed asleep, I sigh heavily. Matt looks up
from where he’s been keeping a vigil next to her bed. A better friend on this planet you will not find.
He doesn’t say a word. He just crosses the room and gives me the hug I’ve so desperately needed
and I come apart and cry into his shoulder. I finally let go when I hear Donna’s voice. Then I move to
her bed and give her the same comfort I just got from my best friend.
I stroke her hair and mindlessly croon things in her ear. I have no idea what I’m saying, which is just
as good because I doubt I’d believe them myself if I did.
I know one day it won’t hurt like this. I know one day, she won’t cry.
“I’m so sorry.” She cries into my chest. “I don’t know what happened.”
“It’s not your fault.” I hush. “You did nothing wrong. These things just happen.”
“There’s something wrong with me, Josh, there’s got to be. It took over a year just to get pregnant.”
“Sshh. Knock it off, Donna. You’re perfect. Something obviously wasn’t going right. This happens to,
like, 60 percent of women or something like that. It. Just. Happens.”
That I’m positive of. I have no idea what forces of nature were at play here, but I know it’s nothing she
had any control over.
I hook my finger under her chin and lift her face to mine. “And it doesn’t mean that’s it. Okay? As soon
as the doctor says it’s okay, we try again.”
“Okay.” She nods with a whisper.
“As many times as we have to, Donna.” I vow. “I mean, I’m tireless when it comes to the babymaking
making part.”
“Josh!” she groans with an eye roll.
“Just so you know, I’m stepping up here.” I grin a bit.
“You’re incorrigible.” She says and gives me a little shove. But there’s a shadow of a smile on her
face. My work here is far from done, but any moment she doesn’t cry is a victory.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
12.
I could scream, literally scream, right now. I just can’t take it anymore and Josh doesn’t seem to get
that.
“Hey, I’ll get that. You go lie down.” He tells me and takes the ice cream and bowl out of my hands. I
grab it back in a fit of pique. “Donna, let me get it for you.”
“No!” Unable to control my emotions, I start crying at the same time I yell my response so it loses
some of its effectiveness.
“Okay, okay.” He lifts his palms up to me in surrender. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to help.”
“I’m not an invalid. I don’t need your help. Just leave me alone, okay?!” I demand and try not to look
into his wide eyes. “I just want to be alone.”
I walk quickly out of the kitchen and into the bedroom where I slam the door closed. I ditch the bowl
and eat the ice cream directly out of the container. This rage inside me is boiling over and even ice
cold ice cream is doing nothing to bring it back down to a simmer. I need a distraction.
I pull open my laptop intent on finding something else to read, watch, or listen to. It opens to the
homepage that I’d programmed and “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” pops up which just
sends me reeling all over again. My sobs alert my husband who slowly opens the door to peer in on
me. He’s probably checking to see if I’ve broken up into a million pieces yet.
“Get. Out.” I tell him from between clenched teeth.
“Donna…”
“Get. OUT!” I scream and he visibly startles, pauses a second, then turns around and does as I
request…finally.
I hoist my laptop off the bed and against the wall, but my lack of strength at the moment is evident in
my paltry throw and it just gives an unsatisfactory thunk. I have to get out of here. I just can’t stay
here any longer. I pick up the phone and dial a number from memory.
“Mom?” I answer shakily once I hear her voice. “I want to come home.”
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
I hear a loud thunk come from the bedroom and it takes everything within me not to throw the door
open again just to make sure she’s all right. A moment later, I can still hear her crying and give a
huge sigh of relief that whatever that was, it didn’t seem to hurt her any further. I’m at my wits end, I
swear. I don’t know what to do to help her and today she doesn’t even want me in the same room with
her. I’m saved from making any immediate decision by a knock at the door.
“Josh…” I’m enveloped by my cousin-in-law who’s already crying her eyes out. Great. This is sure to
cheer Donna and me up. I’m rescued by Sam, who gently removes his wife from my arms and gives
me a brief hug himself.
“We’re so sorry.” He says quietly and I nod, unable to say anything else.
“Where’s Donna?” Ainsley asks and I nod my head to the bedroom. “Is she sleeping?”
“I wish. I don’t think she’s slept except for cat naps here and there since I brought her home yesterday
morning.” I explain. They kept her overnight for observation and a D&C procedure which was SO
much fun, let me tell you. Just when we thought it couldn’t get any worse, we got the medical report.
The baby, they said fetus but please, the baby girl was developing normally so they wanted to explore
further to find the reason for the spontaneous abortion.
They did a few tests that included an MRI. Then came the truly horrible news. They told us that
because of a problem with Donna’s uterus, with a Latin medical name I can’t even pronounce, Donna
will not be able to carry a baby to term. Just like that; one simple sentence and all our hopes and
dreams of a family were destroyed.
Donna spent the rest of the day in a sort of shocked stupor. I’m sure the drugs she’d been fed
regularly had something to do with it but it was spooky. She just had this blank stare on her face while
she told me how sorry she was that she couldn’t give me any children. I stayed with her all night, but I
swear her eyes didn’t close the whole time.
I thought maybe once I got her home things would get better, but instead, they’ve gotten worse. She
won’t eat, says she can’t sleep, and my very presence seems to set her off. It’s like seeing me
reminds her that we can’t have kids. Intellectually, I guess I can understand that and I’m not trying to
equate what I’m going through with what she’s going through. She was the one carrying the baby. But
I lost a child too and I want to grieve with my wife. We need each other more than ever right now.
“Can I go back?” Ainsley asks hesitantly and I’m not sure how to answer. It might help Donna to see
the cousin she’s always been so close to, but on the other hand, with Ainsley being pregnant right
now, it might make things worse.
“Maybe we should wait.” I hedge not wanting to hurt Ainsley, but not wanting to admit that Donna
ordered me out of her sight just minutes ago. Just as I’m about to change my mind, the door opens
and Donna walks out. She looks like hell. Her normally fair skin is nearly translucent and there are
dark circles under her eyes. Her hair is all over the place and her eyes appear glazed over and red
rimmed. “Ainsley and Sam stopped by.”
“I see.” She replies and without acknowledging them at all turns to me. “I’m going to go home for a few
days.” Ainsley gasps but I’m lost by what she’s saying. Go home? She’s already home.
“What?”
“To Wisconsin?” Ainsley follows up and now it’s my turn to gasp.
“I need to get away for a few days.” She tells me, still not looking at Sam or Ainsley.
“Uh….okay…” I’m trying to think fast. If I give some of my stuff to Sam and the rest to Toby, I could
manage a few days. I’ll figure out a way to make it work. If she needs to get out of town for a couple
days, then that’s what we’ll do. “Let me call Leo and farm some stuff out and-“
“No.” She shakes her head quickly. “I’m going alone. You can’t get away right now anyway, with all the
hearings and the re-election campaign-“
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I interrupt her. “Of course I’m going with you. God, Donna, do you think work is
more important to me than you?”
For the first time, she fleetingly glances over at our guests who are valiantly trying to study the
pattern in the carpet and give us some privacy.
“I think it would be better if I went alone.” She finally whispers. “My flight leaves in 4 hours.” She turns
on her heel and walks back to the bedroom, presumably to pack. I sink into the chair when I feel my
limbs shaking. I’ve just lost my child. Is it possible that I’m losing my wife too?
<><><><><><><><>
I write for a living. I write for the President of the United States. I am, all humility aside, exceptionally
good at what I do, and I have no words for the scene I’ve just witnessed. I don’t know who I hurt for
most at this moment, Josh or Donna. It’s been a horrible roller coaster ride for them over the last 48
hours, but I honestly believed that once they got home they’d be able to hold each other up, the way
they always do for each other, and start healing. It appears as though I was terribly wrong.
I exchange an incredulous look with my wife and she motions that she’s going to take the risk of
bearding the lion in its’ den and go talk to Donna. Good luck, baby. I take a seat next to my friend and
struggle to find something to say to him. I settle for putting my hand on his arm and squeezing.
“She won’t listen to Ainsley.” He says tonelessly.
“Maybe she will. She might.” I try for optimism. “She may get halfway to Wisconsin, realize she’s
making a huge mistake and come right back home.”
“She just said home WAS Wisconsin.”
“She didn’t mean it.” I assure him. That much I know is true. Donna has bent over backward to make a
home here with Josh, even before they were engaged. “Josh, listen to me. She didn’t mean it. I know
that for certain. She’s just…understandably…confused and upset. Once she gets some sleep and is
able to think straight again--”
“I’m losing her, Sam.” His voice breaks on the simple sentence. “What have I done that I deserve to
be punished this way? That everyone important to me is taken away from me?”
I don’t know how to respond to that.
“My whole life is turning to shit right before my eyes. My career, my family…” I want to argue the truth
of that with him, but I can’t. He’s right; it is.
Ainsley chooses that moment to return to us. “I can’t talk her out of going. She has it in her head that
everything will be better in Wisconsin and I can’t shake her out of it. I’m sorry.” She kneels next to
Josh and put a hand on his knee. “She wants me to take her to the airport.”
Josh closes his eyes. When he opens them again, his eyes look dead; no emotion shows in them.
“You’ll make sure she gets on her flight okay?”
“Of course.” Ainsley promises him. “If it helps, her mother will probably drive her insane within the first
24 hours and she’ll be back here in no time.”
Josh nods solemnly but doesn’t respond verbally. He slowly stands up and grabs his keys from the
counter. “I’m going to…uh…go to the office, then. I might as well try to get something done… Will you
call me once she takes off?”
“Josh, wait. Wait and say goodbye to her. Maybe seeing you will--”
“I can’t watch her walk out right now, Ainsley. I CAN’T, okay?” His voice breaks again and he
continues walking to the door. “I can’t.” He repeats more calmly and simply walks out of his home like
it’s any ordinary day and he’s going to the office.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
It’s been three days since Donna left for Wisconsin. She called me when she landed but I let the call
go to voice mail. I couldn’t talk to her right then. Now, of course, I can torture myself by playing the
message over and over again. I think I may be going insane.
She’s sent a few emails; maybe I’m not the only one having trouble talking here. She told me she’s
connected with a few old friends. I imagine it’s easier to interact with them since none of them knew
she was pregnant in the first place so there’s no pitying glances or concerned looks from them. Her
tone seems relatively upbeat, so maybe she was right and this was what she needed right now. It just
kills me that I’M not what she needed right now.
Matt keeps telling me that that’s not true; that Donna just doesn’t know what she needs right now to
make the pain go away. Matt’s been saying a lot to me over the last few days. He’s now my official
keeper. I tell him he doesn’t need to check up on me or hang out with me each night but he keeps
doing it. I’m lucky to have such a great friend. Who knew Republicans could be compassionate?
I should probably go home, it’s after 9, but since there’s nobody to go home to and being there by
myself depresses me, I’m thinking about crashing on Toby’s couch…again.
“Anything else before I take off?” My assistant Jackie asks and I shake my head ‘no’. “Did you eat any
of the dinner I brought you?”
“Sure.” I lie without compunction. I don’t want to debate my eating habits right now. Word of Donna’s
miscarriage spread like wildfire, so people have been tiptoeing around me for the last few days. It’s
getting old, but I’m hardly in a position to tell them I’m fine and they don’t have to tiptoe around me
when quite clearly, I’m not.
Jackie looks skeptical about my lie but in the absence of any real proof, decides not to debate the
point. Thank God. “Go home and get some sleep. Bruno wants to meet with you right after senior
staff in the morning.”
“Joy.” I respond sarcastically and see Jackie grin. She thinks Bruno is a snake oil salesman; she may
be right, but he’s a Democratic snake oil salesman and given the circumstances we need all the help
we can get. “Night, Jackie. Thanks for…everything.” I finish inadequately but she smiles her
understanding of what I’m trying to say. She’s been a Godsend these last few days.
I reluctantly turn back to some polling data from the southwest in preparation for my meeting with
Bruno tomorrow. I’ve found that if I work until my eyes actually start to close, then I can stumble to
Toby’s couch and fall asleep a little easier.
“Why won’t you wear your glasses? You’re going to go blind reading in that crappy light without your
glasses.”
I must be hallucinating, because now I’m hearing Donna’s voice at work. I reluctantly look up, unsure
of what I’ll see, but it looks like Donna standing in my doorway.
“Donna?”
“Have you forgotten me already? It’s only been three days.” She tells me.
“It seems longer.” I admit quietly, still sitting behind my desk.
“Yes, it does.” She agrees and steps further into my office. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“You have?”
Now she looks down at the floor, but she nods again. “I don’t know why I thought the answer was in
Wisconsin when my life is in D.C.”
Now I get up and walk around my desk until we’re nearly toe to toe. “I wasn’t sure it was anymore.” I
manage.
“I’m sorry.” She whispers. “I’m so sorry.” Unable to stand there and not touch her any longer I pull her
quickly into my arms and we both cry together. “I couldn’t look at you without thinking about the baby
and then I’d remember we can’t EVER have a baby and I didn’t know how you could stand to look at
me.”
“Are you serious?” I reply in disbelief. “Donna, it’s not like you did something to make that happen or
like you have any control over a medical condition. Jesus, Donna, do you blame me for having PTSD
or heart problems?”
“Of course not!” She replies horrified. “But this is different. This is- this was our child.”
I pull my completely miserable wife far enough away from me that she can see my eyes clearly. “It’s
exactly the same thing; circumstances that are beyond our control. I don’t blame you for this, I never
did and I never could. Losing the baby…broke my heart. But losing you…please tell me I haven’t lost
you through all this Donna.”
“I was afraid you wouldn’t want me back after the way I left you.” She admits.
“It hurt. It hurt a lot. But sometime during day two it occurred to me that you had to be out of your
mind with grief to do what you did and I hoped that once you felt a little better you’d want to come
home to me.”
“I wanted to almost as soon as I landed in Wisconsin. I think if you’d answered the phone when I
called after I landed, I would’ve just stayed on the plane and come back.” Donna buries her head in
my neck and it feels perfect. I try to ignore the pang of guilt I feel for letting the call go to voice mail
but the truth is, I was in a pretty awful place too.
“I think we need some help dealing with all this, Donna.” I suggest cautiously and she pulls back from
me to look at me quizzically.
“YOU are suggesting getting some help?”
“Well…yeah…I learned something from that Christmas. You shouldn’t let things go so long that
something irreversible could happen. We’ll go together and talk this through and come up with a plan.”
“A plan?” She repeats.
“We have other options, Donna, if you still want to have a family. If you don’t, that’s fine too, and I
think it’s probably too early to even think about making that kind of decision, but we still have
choices.” I tell her.
“Won’t you be disappointed that you can’t have children with me?” She asks and I try to see the
question behind the question. This isn’t some nebulous conception problem; we know that the
problem is with her uterus. Does she feel like it’s her fault we can’t have children? That I’d rather be
with someone who can give me the children she thinks I want so much?
“I’d love to have children, you know that, but the children I’d love to have are yours; because I love
YOU and want a family with YOU. Just having kids is not the- Whether we adopt someday, or look at
other conception options, or our family never grows beyond you and me, doesn’t matter to me in the
least.”
“You won’t regret staying with me someday down the line when you’re the last Lyman in your family?”
She clarifies and I start to see where her busy mind is heading.
“I swear I won’t.” I promise her and see her lips tremble before she nods her acceptance of my vow.
“Can you leave now? I want to go home with my husband.” She tells me.
“There is nothing I’d like more.” I tell her honestly. Keeping one hand on her arm, I use the other hand
to turn out the crappy light on my desk and we start out the door, pausing only long enough for me to
grab my jacket and keys.
“What about your backpack?” She asks when we get to the threshold.
“It’s filled with work, and I’m not doing any more work tonight.” I tell her huskily. She smiles back at me
as my meaning registers. Tonight is just for the two of us.
We clear the security gate quickly and the night officer calls out to us as we leave. “Have a good night
Mrs. Lyman, Mr. Lyman.”
For the first time in almost a week I think we might have that good night we so desperately need.