December 24, 2000
Josh is still in there with the doctor from ATVA. Six Hours and they’re still talking. I
mean, I know Josh loves to talk, God do I ever know that, but six hours with a
psychiatrist? Not that Dr. Keyworth seems nasty or anything. I met with him myself to
tell him what I’ve been observing about Josh. That sounds so clinical doesn’t it? I’m
trying to keep objective about this so I don’t feel like I just ratted out by best friend.
I know it’s what he needs. I know it was the right thing to do. I just want him to get out
of there to see if he hates me now because of it. My phone rings and I reluctantly pick
it up.
“Josh Lyman’s office.”
“Yes, I’m looking for my daughter, Donna Moss?”
“Hi, Mom.” I sigh.
“I’m not sure what she looks like anymore, but when I last saw her on C-SPAN she was
tall, with long blond hair, and circles under her eyes.” Mom continues as if I hadn’t
said a word.
“Very funny, Mom.” I reluctantly chuckle. Do I really have bags under my eyes?
“We’re leaving for church soon and I wanted to hear your voice before I left…I wish
you were here, Donnatella.”
“I do too, Mom. I miss you; all of you.” I really do miss my family.
“Do you think you could manage a long weekend around New Year’s?” I hear the
hope in her voice and it makes me feel like a horrible daughter.
“I’m not sure. I’ll see what I can do.” My response is met with silence on the other end.
“Mom, it’s just that things are very…complicated right now and I can’t leave Josh in
the middle of this.”
“Donna, I know Josh Lyman has a very important job. And I know that he depends a
lot on you to help him do that job. But you deserve to have some time off and see
your family too.”
“I know, and I will; as soon as this crisis is over.” I hasten to add.
“That’s the problem, Donna. You work at the White House. There’s always a crisis of
one kind or another. If you’re waiting to come home until you’re crisis free over there, I’
ll see you when President Bartlet’s term expires.”
“This is different Mom. It’s not about passing critical legislation or shots fired in a no
fly zone.”
“No, this is about Josh isn’t it?”
“What?” I can’t come up with a denial fast enough.
“We get CNN here, Donna. I know there’s no political crisis brewing at the moment. In
fact, it appears that a nice Christmas truce was called over the petroleum reserves.
So that leaves only one thing, excuse me, one person that would keep you there;
Josh. You’ve been very concerned about him when we’ve talked lately.”
“I have been concerned, yes.” I admit.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t be concerned Donna. I know Josh is more than a boss to
you, that you’re close friends, but I’m concerned that you’re too invested in this
relationship.”
“What does that mean?”
“You practically lived with him once he came home from the hospital. Now you’re
telling me that your decision not to come home for Christmas was based on concern
for Josh. Are you sure these are good decisions, healthy decisions for you?”
“Mom!”
“Okay, then I have to ask…is there something going on between you two that I don’t
know about?” she asks and I’m too stunned by the question to reply. If Mom is picking
up on my feelings from Wisconsin everyone here must think…Oh, God. “Donna?”
“No, Mom, I just need to be here right now.” I finally choke out.
“Alright, Donna. I just worry about you. You have such a desire to help everyone and
that’s a wonderful quality. I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself too. I
wouldn’t want to see your heart broken again.”
That makes me start to cry. “I know Mom. I’ll call everyone in the morning, okay?”
“Okay. I love you Donnatella.”
“I love you too, Mom.” I hang up the phone quickly and retreat into Josh’s office so
nobody sees me crying.
Mom’s words are ringing in my ears, “Are these good decisions, healthy decisions for
you?” Yes, I’ve been taking care of Josh since the shooting. No, it’s not something
most assistants would do, but I’m not just Josh’s assistant. At least I don’t think so. I
mean, I know I’m not just his assistant we’re very close friends too. But lately I’ve had
the feeling that there’s something else brewing between us. It can’t all be my
imagination, can it? My mind flashes back to when we were given the ‘Stamp
Assignment’.
“The process by which a stamp enters into circulation begins with the American
people.” I read to him but when I look up from my cards he’s staring off into space.
“What?” he asked when he realized I was staring at him as he stared at the ceiling.
“Are you even listening?” I asked
“No.” he answered immediately. At least he’s honest about it.
“Do you want to do this or not?” I gave him my ultimatum.
“I don't.” Well, so much for that. But I am not deterred.
“I did index cards.” I pointed out waving them in the air.
“How many?” He looked at my stack suspiciously.
“87.” I lied without missing a beat knowing it would make him smile, which it did. That
day had been one of those days that things seemed perfectly back to normal with us.
“Reduce it to 3.” He challenged me.
“Philately's fun, Josh.” I informed him.
“I'm sorry. What's fun?” he laughed out loud. God, it was great to hear him laugh.
“Philately -- stamp collecting.” I expound.
“Careful how you say that cause...” He made me smile with that one. It was wickedly
flirtatious, and he leaned closer to me when he said it too. There was a sparkle in his
eyes too.
“Can we work?” I asked while I struggled to keep a straight face.
“Tell me what you know.” He capitulated.
“ The process by which a stamp enters circulation begins with the
American Public...” I read again.
“Well, that's always our first mistake.” He deadpanned. This from the man who works
day and night to champion the very people he was currently mocking.
“About 50,000 proposals a year are submitted to the Citizens Stamp Advisory
Committee, the acronym for which is...” I continued undaunted.
“Dork squad?” he offered and I rolled my eyes, pretending to be annoyed by his
constant interruptions.
“C-SAC. The committee then makes a recommendation to the postmaster general --
in this case, Marcus Aquino. He won the Silver Star for Service in Korea. There are
numerous instances listed here of lifesaving valor and actions well above and beyond
the call of duty. As Puerto Rico's resident commissioner, he served Congress
faithfully and well.' Let's put him on a stamp.” I finished up quickly before he had a
chance to add another quip.
“Let's put you on a stamp.” He replied and the look he gave me was SO intense.
“Okay.” I responded after I got my breath back. Right there! Right then I knew there
was something else between us.
When I return to the present I hear Mom asking me if there’s something else going on
between Josh and me. The answer is yes. I know it is. But it’s not something either of
us can acknowledge or discuss so I need to work on a plan for some misdirection.
People around here must think…I’m not going to think about it. I’ll just put some
distance between us and work on the misdirection plan.
I don’t know how long I sit there contemplating options, but eventually the phone rings
and I’m told Josh is on his way out. I bolt from his chair, grab his things and mine, and
go out to the lobby to meet him. Yes, I know this isn’t really evidence of my
distance/misdirection plan, but that’s going to have to wait until tomorrow. Tonight,
Josh needs me and really…what does one more night hurt?
Josh is still in there with the doctor from ATVA. Six Hours and they’re still talking. I
mean, I know Josh loves to talk, God do I ever know that, but six hours with a
psychiatrist? Not that Dr. Keyworth seems nasty or anything. I met with him myself to
tell him what I’ve been observing about Josh. That sounds so clinical doesn’t it? I’m
trying to keep objective about this so I don’t feel like I just ratted out by best friend.
I know it’s what he needs. I know it was the right thing to do. I just want him to get out
of there to see if he hates me now because of it. My phone rings and I reluctantly pick
it up.
“Josh Lyman’s office.”
“Yes, I’m looking for my daughter, Donna Moss?”
“Hi, Mom.” I sigh.
“I’m not sure what she looks like anymore, but when I last saw her on C-SPAN she was
tall, with long blond hair, and circles under her eyes.” Mom continues as if I hadn’t
said a word.
“Very funny, Mom.” I reluctantly chuckle. Do I really have bags under my eyes?
“We’re leaving for church soon and I wanted to hear your voice before I left…I wish
you were here, Donnatella.”
“I do too, Mom. I miss you; all of you.” I really do miss my family.
“Do you think you could manage a long weekend around New Year’s?” I hear the
hope in her voice and it makes me feel like a horrible daughter.
“I’m not sure. I’ll see what I can do.” My response is met with silence on the other end.
“Mom, it’s just that things are very…complicated right now and I can’t leave Josh in
the middle of this.”
“Donna, I know Josh Lyman has a very important job. And I know that he depends a
lot on you to help him do that job. But you deserve to have some time off and see
your family too.”
“I know, and I will; as soon as this crisis is over.” I hasten to add.
“That’s the problem, Donna. You work at the White House. There’s always a crisis of
one kind or another. If you’re waiting to come home until you’re crisis free over there, I’
ll see you when President Bartlet’s term expires.”
“This is different Mom. It’s not about passing critical legislation or shots fired in a no
fly zone.”
“No, this is about Josh isn’t it?”
“What?” I can’t come up with a denial fast enough.
“We get CNN here, Donna. I know there’s no political crisis brewing at the moment. In
fact, it appears that a nice Christmas truce was called over the petroleum reserves.
So that leaves only one thing, excuse me, one person that would keep you there;
Josh. You’ve been very concerned about him when we’ve talked lately.”
“I have been concerned, yes.” I admit.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t be concerned Donna. I know Josh is more than a boss to
you, that you’re close friends, but I’m concerned that you’re too invested in this
relationship.”
“What does that mean?”
“You practically lived with him once he came home from the hospital. Now you’re
telling me that your decision not to come home for Christmas was based on concern
for Josh. Are you sure these are good decisions, healthy decisions for you?”
“Mom!”
“Okay, then I have to ask…is there something going on between you two that I don’t
know about?” she asks and I’m too stunned by the question to reply. If Mom is picking
up on my feelings from Wisconsin everyone here must think…Oh, God. “Donna?”
“No, Mom, I just need to be here right now.” I finally choke out.
“Alright, Donna. I just worry about you. You have such a desire to help everyone and
that’s a wonderful quality. I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself too. I
wouldn’t want to see your heart broken again.”
That makes me start to cry. “I know Mom. I’ll call everyone in the morning, okay?”
“Okay. I love you Donnatella.”
“I love you too, Mom.” I hang up the phone quickly and retreat into Josh’s office so
nobody sees me crying.
Mom’s words are ringing in my ears, “Are these good decisions, healthy decisions for
you?” Yes, I’ve been taking care of Josh since the shooting. No, it’s not something
most assistants would do, but I’m not just Josh’s assistant. At least I don’t think so. I
mean, I know I’m not just his assistant we’re very close friends too. But lately I’ve had
the feeling that there’s something else brewing between us. It can’t all be my
imagination, can it? My mind flashes back to when we were given the ‘Stamp
Assignment’.
“The process by which a stamp enters into circulation begins with the American
people.” I read to him but when I look up from my cards he’s staring off into space.
“What?” he asked when he realized I was staring at him as he stared at the ceiling.
“Are you even listening?” I asked
“No.” he answered immediately. At least he’s honest about it.
“Do you want to do this or not?” I gave him my ultimatum.
“I don't.” Well, so much for that. But I am not deterred.
“I did index cards.” I pointed out waving them in the air.
“How many?” He looked at my stack suspiciously.
“87.” I lied without missing a beat knowing it would make him smile, which it did. That
day had been one of those days that things seemed perfectly back to normal with us.
“Reduce it to 3.” He challenged me.
“Philately's fun, Josh.” I informed him.
“I'm sorry. What's fun?” he laughed out loud. God, it was great to hear him laugh.
“Philately -- stamp collecting.” I expound.
“Careful how you say that cause...” He made me smile with that one. It was wickedly
flirtatious, and he leaned closer to me when he said it too. There was a sparkle in his
eyes too.
“Can we work?” I asked while I struggled to keep a straight face.
“Tell me what you know.” He capitulated.
“ The process by which a stamp enters circulation begins with the
American Public...” I read again.
“Well, that's always our first mistake.” He deadpanned. This from the man who works
day and night to champion the very people he was currently mocking.
“About 50,000 proposals a year are submitted to the Citizens Stamp Advisory
Committee, the acronym for which is...” I continued undaunted.
“Dork squad?” he offered and I rolled my eyes, pretending to be annoyed by his
constant interruptions.
“C-SAC. The committee then makes a recommendation to the postmaster general --
in this case, Marcus Aquino. He won the Silver Star for Service in Korea. There are
numerous instances listed here of lifesaving valor and actions well above and beyond
the call of duty. As Puerto Rico's resident commissioner, he served Congress
faithfully and well.' Let's put him on a stamp.” I finished up quickly before he had a
chance to add another quip.
“Let's put you on a stamp.” He replied and the look he gave me was SO intense.
“Okay.” I responded after I got my breath back. Right there! Right then I knew there
was something else between us.
When I return to the present I hear Mom asking me if there’s something else going on
between Josh and me. The answer is yes. I know it is. But it’s not something either of
us can acknowledge or discuss so I need to work on a plan for some misdirection.
People around here must think…I’m not going to think about it. I’ll just put some
distance between us and work on the misdirection plan.
I don’t know how long I sit there contemplating options, but eventually the phone rings
and I’m told Josh is on his way out. I bolt from his chair, grab his things and mine, and
go out to the lobby to meet him. Yes, I know this isn’t really evidence of my
distance/misdirection plan, but that’s going to have to wait until tomorrow. Tonight,
Josh needs me and really…what does one more night hurt?
