| April 2002 I am a woman on a mission. I have a mission objective and nothing is going to avert me from my goal. It’s a serious mission and one that’s worthy of the attention of the White House Deputy Chief of Staff and eventually, I hope, the President of the United States. Ha! There he is. I zero in on my target and approach at full speed. “Did I leave a folder called "Southeast Targets and..." Josh starts and I thrust the folder into his chest. “Thank you.” We do our walk and talk as we head back to his office. “I've been putting together a folder of my own. All the things that need to be done in order for the President to issue a proclamation.” I inform him. “What has to be done?” He asks me but I think it’s more out of habit than, you know, actual interest. “Let me check...” I open my folder and look carefully inside. “Nothing.” “Donna…” He whines. That’s not enough to deter me, Joshua Lyman. “Nothing has to be done.” I repeat more emphatically. “He can't just issue a proclamation.” “He can. He’s the President.” “No I'm saying he can't just because you want him to. What's next? Executive clemency if you're having a bad hair day?” He asks facetiously. I give him the patented Donna Moss death glare. “I never have a bad hair day and Molly Morello was a public school teacher for 41 years.” “Which is nice but these things are for important causes, not individual perks for staffers.” He counters. “National Digestive Diseases Awareness Week.” I shoot back to him. “When was that?” He looks interested but disgusted now. “Right now. It began after General Pulaski Memorial Day.” I tell him. “Look, if you're going to mock the dead...” “February was National Sewing Month, by the way.” I continue. “It goes nicely with the sewing notions you want for American women everywhere.” “Nice. It's still the President's name and reputation. We haven't vetted this woman.” He’s being logical now, and that’s where I’ll get him. “You're saying that if she's a lesbian...” I trail off waiting for him to take the next step closer to the edge of the cliff. “If she were a lesbian we could talk. I'm saying what if she's a bicycle thief?” he points out the obvious. “I doubt that she's...” I let that dangle to, Josh will not be able to let that go. Watch. “Don't doubt it. Know it. Do a Google search, then talk to me.” Ha! I got him. He’s made a commitment…of sorts…to me now. Google here I come. ****************************************** I thought I had him. I really did. I went past google and did an extensive background search on Mrs. Morello and just as I expected, she came up clean as a whistle. I brought the background check and the bio information I gathered on Mrs. Morello to Josh’s office. We went the whole 15 rounds but in the end I had to concede that it could cause trouble for the President. As much as I’d like to do this for Mrs. Morello, it can’t come at the expense of the President’s reputation. So this is how I end up sitting at my desk solemnly pulling files Josh will need for tomorrow. He’s been holed up in the Roosevelt room for some meeting most of the afternoon and evening now. When the phone rings, I’m surprised to hear Charlie’s voice on the phone requesting me, not Josh, in the Oval. Worriedly, I make my way over to see the President. I can’t think of anything I’ve done that might cross the President’s radar, and with Josh holed up in the Roosevelt room, he hasn’t had the opportunity to start trouble anywhere else. Charlie opens the door for me and the President greets me warmly. “Donnatella.” He calls out in his version of an Italian accent. At least he doesn’t seem upset at all. “Good evening, Mr. President.” I reply and nod. He goes on to tell me who General Polanski was and asks me to pass that information on to Josh, which I of course agree to do. But before I can leave, the most extraordinary thing happens. He shows me the briefing memo ‘hastily put together’ by Josh regarding a proclamation for Mrs. Morello and apologizes that he can’t do that. I completely understand and express my surprise that Josh took the time to do that. “It seemed to me that it was very important to him, but only because it was very important to you.” The President noted. Not knowing how to respond to that, I try to exit with thanks for his time when he stops me yet again. He hits the speakerphone button and I find out Mrs. Morello is on the phone! Both the President and I get to speak with her at length. Mrs. Morello and I are thrilled and touched by the President’s attention. It doesn’t escape me that none of this would have happened without Josh’s intervention. He never even hinted that he would do anything with the information I gave him. In fact, he gave me every indication he would NOT do anything with it. Sometimes, I don’t know about that man. Just when I figure I have him pegged, that I can read his every move, he does something unexpected like this. If you were to tell anyone on the Hill about the sweet things he’s capable of, nobody would believe you. He’s cultivated quite the reputation there. But this was above and beyond the call and I won’t forget it, ever. I wait for him in his office, tears streaming down my face as I relive every moment of the phone call with President Bartlet and Mrs. Morello. Then ‘da man himself walks in. He stop short when he sees me and I jump up from his chair to envelope him in a hug. "Thank you, Josh." I whisper. "That was wonderful. Thank you so much." "You're welcome." He says into my shoulder. I just enjoy the sensation of his body molded to mine and I can’t resist rubbing his back in small circles with my fingers. I start to pull away, but he holds me close for another moment or two. Our eyes meet and I see regret and longing in his, but I’m not sure what that means for us. Does he miss our friendship? It’ s been so strained lately and that’s partly my fault too, but he has Amy now, so I’m not sure what’s he telling me with those beautiful brown eyes of his. Just when I’m about to summon my courage and ask, he breaks eye contact with me and moves toward his computer. “Night.” I call after him, and he calls ‘night’ back to me before sitting down. I’m saddened that I didn’t take the opportunity to take that brave step. I gather my things and turn off my computer as tears threaten again. Then I hear a sound. It’s whistling and it’s coming from Josh’s office. I pause outside his door to listen and chuckle when I recognize the fact that it’s “Oh Canada” that he’s whistling. I wipe the tears from my eyes and nearly run into Sam who’s coming to see Josh I presume. “Goodnight, Sam.” I call. He looks at me strangely but he returns the greeting and I realize he’s probably concerned about my red rimmed eyes. I give him a smile to reassure him and head out for the night. I can’t wait to call home and tell Mom what Josh did today. |
