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Echoes Of A Not So Distant Past
by: Bluefairy
Disclaimer: So obviously not mine it isn’t even funny. No infringement intended.
Category: Josh/Donna, Post-Administration
Rating: TEEN (only for a few words)
Summary: ‘If you don't know your family's history, then you don't know anything. You are a leaf that doesn't know it is part of a tree’ – a look into what may be.
Author's Note: My first fic to actually be finished! Two major big thank yous: first to my new friend Columbia who took a chance on an unknown and gave me the confidence to finish this, along with fantastic feedback.
The second thank you goes to my Grasshopper, and the fact she is the only one who understands ‘the thing’. As always, Dude, Pins, Kenny-lines, Toby-drinking and the less-than-subtleties are for you. I love you, get some sleep or I’m calling Stanley!
Thank you also to anyone who takes the time to read the whole thing. Feedback
appreciated to the above address.

Donna flitted around the kitchen, filling bottles with grape Kool-Aid and cutting sandwiches into halves; cheese and cucumber for Kitty, ham and salad for Noah, cheese and lettuce for Luke and peanut butter and jam for AJ. Why they couldn’t just eat the same sandwiches she wasn’t sure, but still, she did this everyday.
They were running through the house themselves, on searches for gym kits, pencil crayons, matching pairs of socks. It was always worst at the beginning of the year. Things would get lax over the summer; they’d fall out of routine. Then it would get to September again, and it would take till November for everything to be back to normal.
Kitty was extra apprehensive because she was eleven, it was her first year in Junior High School, and also her first year with fixed braces. She was afraid everyone was going to laugh
at her. She was paranoid that she lisped, though a conversation over the phone with her Aunt in Washington State, who had also just got braces fixed, and who Kitty admired greatly, calmed her
to the point where Donna though she might actually get on the bus.
Katerina Delores was the beauty of the children; with honey coloured waves and inviting chocolate eyes that made her father want to lock her in her room until she was thirty. She fussed with makeup (as much as her parents would let her), and always had to know what was in fashion. Still, she wasn’t stupid; she loved acting and singing, and had won enough competitions that her room was a veritable cornucopia of trophies. She had wanted to enter pageants, but her parents had drawn the line, citing them as exploitive and chauvinistic.
Kitty wanted to be a singer when she grew up. She took lessons twice a week, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and sang in choir on Sundays. She could play the piano too, lessons on Fridays, had been learning since she was six, and she liked to dance. She took tap and ballet on Mondays and Wednesdays.
Noah Benjamin was the oldest of the four at thirteen. He had grown over the summer, and was nearly four inches taller than he had been when he left. He had spiky golden-brown hair, which was curly like his father’s, if allowed to grow long enough. Still, he had eyes like his mother’s: clear and still like water. He was happy because he was going to be in the eighth grade this year, the top of his school. He also was looking forward to getting back to his football team, which was his winter sport. He played baseball in the spring and did track in the summer. He was looking forward to wrestling when he started High School.
He ran through the kitchen and grabbed the folder, which he had left on the table the night before, when he and his father had been going over his math homework. Donna wasn’t sure how they
got anything done, when their conversations always seemed to dissolve into arguments about baseball, both of them being ardent Mets fans. Still, it got done, and that was all anyone could ask for.
Luke was always the child that got somewhat overlooked. He was the third child, at ten, and was
quiet compared to the rest of his siblings. He wasn’t sporty like his elder brother, and he didn’t have great aspirations as Kitty did. He did his work, he got good grades, but mostly he just was happy being one of the crowd.
Luke David was the first child that seemed interested in the world that their parents inhabited. His love of reading stemmed into an interest in the law, and in politics. True, he was only young, but he had what had been deemed from the age of one, ‘an old soul’. He took Spanish and Latin classes after school, and helped in the library at lunch.
He never said much, but Donna knew that if you looked into his eyes, a mirror image of his father’s, you would see a whole world of ideas spinning around his head.
The baby of the group was little Annabella Joan, or AJ, who was the apple of her father’s eye. In fact, she was rather the apple of everyone’s eye. Never in trouble, all she had to do was flash her dimples and open her sparkling cerulean eyes, no one could stay mad at her.
She was the smartest of the bunch, just turned eight and already in the fourth grade. She excelled at English, enjoyed sciences and maths, and was enthralled by history. She played softball on Wednesdays, did gymnastics on Fridays, and knew Sign Language fluently. She could recite the Presidents in order of office – though she always missed Grover Cleveland.
AJ was not like her sister. She didn’t have time for appearances or flights of fancy, and preferred to have her feet firmly on planet Earth. She loved visiting her father at work, listening to his important speeches on television. Her mother guessed that was where she was now, sneaking in some CNN when she should have been getting ready for school.
Their mother put the lids on all four lunch-boxes and went in search of her children. Checking her watch, she realised that the buses to the Junior High and the Elementary School would be arriving in ten and fifteen minutes, respectively.
"Come on guys!" she called up the stairs. "Buses will be here soon!"
At the sound of her voice there was movement upstairs. Noah’s face appeared on the landing. "I can’t find my knee support," he complained. "I need it for practice." His backpack was slung over one shoulder, though his feet were still bare.
His mother sighed, "Try your sock drawer," she guessed, and he grinned.
"Thanks Mom."
As he turned back towards the room his room, he almost ran straight into the older of his younger sisters as she dashed past him. "Whoa! Watch it!" he yelled as she thundered down the stairs.
"Mom! Have you seen my - " she started, but was cut of by her mother re-entering the room.
Pointing to the hall, Donna answered, "By the door, and next time don’t leave them in the middle of the floor when you go to bed."
Kitty kissed her quickly on the cheek and grinned, grabbing her lunch from the side. Slipping it into her shoulder bag she added, "Thanks Mom."
As his sister blew out of the room, Luke entered, his nose buried deep in a book. His shirt was buttoned crooked, as his mother knew that he had probably been reading since he had woken up.
She held out his lunch in her right hand, but laid her left on his shoulder.
"Take five Luke. Re-button your shirt and remember you have Spanish after school." She smoothed his hair with her fingers; it had a tendency to stick out at odd angles, much like his
father’s.
Luke shut his book and looked down at himself. Realising his mistake he smiled sheepishly and set his book and his lunch on the table, before fixing his dressing mishap.
Donna wandered down the hall and into the living room. There, sprawled on the floor, her chin
propped on her palms, with one side of her hair falling haphazardly in her face and the other braided and her sneakers untied, was AJ.
She hadn’t heard her mother come into the room; her eyes were fixed so resolutely on the television. She had the Closed Captions on; limited hearing had been a result of being born ten
weeks too early. Her mouth was open as she watched the Minority and Majority Whips debate about the Public Education system. Though the Democrats did not hold the White House, they had a majority in the House and in the Senate.
Donna picked up the remote from the arm of the chair and clicked off the TV. AJ turned around, annoyed, until she realised it was her mother and not one of her siblings that stood behind her.
"Hi Mom," she grinned, sitting up Indian style. She looked guilty; the argument about getting ready for school and then watching the news being one that her and her mother had gone over again and again. It never seemed to stick.
Donna pointed at the clock and frowned at her daughter. "What does that clock say Annabella Joan?" she asked, her voice serious.
AJ looked up at the clock behind her mother on the wall. "Eight-thirty," she told her, her voice quiet as she tied her red sneakers. She knew what the use of her full name meant. She played with the rollups of her dungarees instead of looking her mother directly in the eye.
Donna beckoned her over and fixed the other braid in her hair with well-practiced fingers. "And what time does your bus come?" She was careful not to pull, even though it was tempting to make her point.
AJ checked the watch on her arm, even though she knew the answer automatically. "It comes at
eight-forty. But I’m meant to be ready by eight-thirty. Then I can watch the news after I’ve finished getting ready. Not the other way around," she recited.
Donna took AJ by the hand and led her into the kitchen. She heard the door open, and sounds of “bye!" echoing down the hall, which let her know that her two eldest had got off okay.
She sat AJ down at the kitchen table, across from Luke who had buried his nose back in his book. He was eating an apple with one hand, though he kept pausing as he read parts, seemingly forgetting that he was eating at the same time.
Donna grabbed AJ’s backpack from the hook and put her lunchbox in it.
"Do you have all your books?" she asked, from where she stood by the stairs. Realising that AJ was watching her brother instead of paying attention, she reached across and tapped her on the shoulder. AJ looked up at her mother. "Do you have all your books?" she repeated, and this time AJ nodded.
Donna zipped up the backpack and handed it to her daughter, along with her red jacket. AJ put her jacket on and set her bag on the table, before going back to watching her brother. She stifled a giggle every time he paused; his eyes widened behind his glasses and his mouth hung open.
Donna watched this interplay and sighed. "Luke?" she called, and he looked up from his book. "Put it away," she requested, and albeit grudgingly, he slipped a piece of paper in to mark his place before putting the book in his bag.
AJ grinned smugly. Luke never got told off, so she relished in even his slightest chastisement. Donna noticed this and looked at her, a frown in place and her hands on her hips.
In a perfect imitation of her own mother, she shook her head and tried to scold her youngest for her mocking, but with her flaxen plaits, and her laughing, sparkling eyes and her father’s dimples, it was impossible to stay mad at her. She simply laid her hands on her shoulders.
"AJ, go put your ears in," she requested.
The little girl looked thoughtful for a moment, but dashed up the stairs as soon as her mother told her, "dresser by your bed."
With the kitchen clear of AJ, Donna rounded on her youngest son, who was supposed to be more mature and responsible than his sister. "You’ll make sure she gets on the right bus today?" she pleaded, "And keep an eye on her? Make sure she’s okay?"
Luke didn’t say anything; he simply nodded solemnly, which from Luke was worth a thousand words of promise. His mother sighed with relief. No matter how old her daughter got, how grown up and independent, Donna always thought of her as the little baby who had fought for her first breaths.
AJ ran back down the stairs just as the bus pulled up outside. Luke picked up his things and herded his sister out the door, stopping only to kiss his mother on the cheek.
AJ grinned, dimples and teeth, though she had fixed her hair to cover her ears. Kissing her mother and picking up her backpack, she followed her brother to the bus, slamming the front door behind her.
Finally, Donna was alone in the house. It was an empty house, a quiet house. So strange with usually four preteens abiding there, making all manner of noise day and night.
With Noah it was rock music, good and loud. He said that there was no other way to really listen to it. After many a discussion, he and his parents had come to the agreement that it was only to be played between eight AM and eight PM, except on special occasions, to save their neighbour’s ears – and their own.
Kitty liked to practice tap in the kitchen. It scuffed the stressed hardwood floors, but she insisted that she had to practice, and that it was in their best interest, as they were the ones paying for lessons. The sound of tip tapping could be heard through their house all weekend in the winter. In the summer she practiced in the garage.
Luke was the only quiet child. So much in fact that sometimes his parents couldn’t tell whether he was home or not. Instead of noise though, he was the absentminded one, always leaving things where they didn’t belong – biros and papers, his glasses.
With little Annabella Joan the noise was almost forgivable. She would turn the TV up so loud, not wanting to wear her hearing aids unless it was totally necessary. Sometimes she would talk louder too, forgetting that others could hear her better than she could hear herself.
These factors combined with the actuality that their father was a Senator, and no one in the family knew what life was without debate and banter, meant that a silent house was a very rare and precious thing indeed.
Donna wandered aimlessly for a few minutes, picking up things that were not where they were meant to be: a hair ribbon of Kitty’s next to the sink, Noah’s baseball bat propped by the stairs instead of in the cupboard, Luke’s stack of Latin books on top of the TV – of which the remote was nowhere to be seen – probably as a result of AJ’s interruption.
She returned to the kitchen, the centre of the house, where she was always drawn, and began to pack her things up. She was at school herself, finishing the degree that she had waylaid for
many, many years.
Finding her notebook, she was searching for a working biro as the phone rang.
"Donna Moss," she said, picking up the phone. She had never broken the habit of answering
with her own name. It had become a running joke between her friends and family, they claimed it was her way of holding on to her independence. CJ said she did it so she wouldn’t feel like she was betraying the Sisterhood. In truth, at first she had forgotten that her name was different, and now it was just habit.
The voice that greeted her was familiar. "Donna?" It was Leo, still living in DC, splitting his time between doting on the Lyman children and his own grandchildren and making piles of money on the Lecture circuit. He was still called by important Government officials, begging for his advice, his expertise, but he usually refused, unless, of course, it was a friend calling.
It took, however, only the next five words for Donna to know that this was not one of Leo’s social calls. “Are you watching the News?"
His voice was thick with fear, with nerves. Something had happened. Donna knew she should run into the lounge and turn on the TV straight away, but something kept her standing against the counter.
She knew she asked the question, "Leo, what’s happened?" but she didn’t remember her mouth forming the words. All she heard was his answer, ringing in her ears.
"There’s been a shooting in the Senate," he started, knowing her shouldn’t be telling her over the phone when she was bound to be alone, but not being able to stop himself once he started.
Knowing that she had to know. "They’re not sure how the gunmen got in. They’re not sure who they are or what they want. CNN’s reporting gunshots. They’re holding people hostage. No one knows what’s going on," he admitted.
She sat there in silence for a moment, her brain working, struggling to take in the information. This wasn’t supposed to happen again.
"Donna?" Leo’s voice was sharp on the other end, piercing the fog that threatened to envelop her. "I’m going to try and find out what’s going on. You stay there, I’ll be over as soon as I can," he promised.
She didn’t say anything for a moment. "Donna?" he asked, his voice so much softer than it usually was, comforting her in the way only a father could.
She sighed lightly, not crying, not understanding enough to cry. "Leo - " she started, but her cut her off.
"I know," he sighed too. "I’ll be over as soon as I can."
They were silent for a second, neither one hanging up the phone until Donna whispered; "I can’t lose him Leo." Her voice did not shake. It was barely audible and deadly serious.
He sounded as strange and as old as she had ever remembered him sounding in his answer. "I know you can’t. I know."
And without words of goodbye, he hung up the phone.
*
She hadn’t been there the night of the shooting. It had been one of the rare times that Josh
had let her go home from work and not accompany him. She relished the fact that she was in her pyjamas at eight at night, just because she could be.
She was watching mindless television, melodrama, everyone sleeping with everyone else. She was thankful that her roommate was away. Not that they didn’t get on – Alison was always good for a laugh – but she just enjoyed having time to herself.
She was almost asleep on the couch, a blanket up around her shoulders, when the sound of Breaking News brought her back to wake.
We are getting reports that multiple gunshots were fired at President Bartlet as he left a public meeting in Rosslyn, Virginia.
The reporter sat there in his suit, calm and collected in his office as he told the nation that a bunch of politicians had been shot at. Donna sat in worn flannel pyjamas on her couch as the reporter told her that her best friends had been shot at.
With out thinking she moved off the couch. She didn’t even turn off the TV, but she didn’t think about that till much later. She changed her clothes; they didn’t match she knew, but she didn’t care. Through the door she heard continuing reports. The President’s Limo was
headed to GW. The President had been shot. The man she had given up all she had ever known to work for had been shot. What if he was dead? What would they do next?
She searched for shoes, for socks. For her purse that contained her pass. She would need it to get into the hospital; no doubt Security would be tight. Josh would be furious. Vowing revenge and asking her to draw up a memo of retribution to whoever had the audacity to shoot at the man that they had followed so readily.
He would need her there. He would need her to be calm and collected. He would be worried. He would be scared but he would try and pretend that he wasn’t. He would need her there to keep him calm, to keep him from going off the deep end and finding the people himself, just so he could kill them with his own hands. And that would be just for trying to. If anything happened to The President, to any of them…
She began to move quicker, her heart racing in her chest. She grabbed her car keys, praying that she had enough petrol. She didn’t leave a note for Ally, if she had seen the News she would work out what was going on.
The drive was a blur. City lights and maybe Policemen and speed limits but she didn’t care. Her knuckles were white from her grip on the steering wheel. She might have had the radio on, she wasn’t sure. Either she heard reports then or later, she remembered them from somewhere.
She parked her car quickly, considering she normally hated bay parking. The place seemed empty, and yet it was swarming with people. They were members of the Public, desperate to get in. There were reporters. She saw some in the crowd that she recognised. A few gave her sympathetic looks as she passed by on the way to the entrance. Many of them looked shaken and shocked and she wondered why they were not inside where doctors could treat them.
She came to the entrance and tried to go in. She was stopped by a strong grip on her shoulder. You’ll have to stay back behind the line Miss; this is a secure area. His voice was not cold, though to Donna it sounded totally unfeeling.
She fumbled with her purse, trembling hands making it difficult to locate her ID. The officer was overly jumpy and her actions made him nervous. Hands where I can see them Missy, he told her, pointing with his pistol.
Ironic, she thought, that they’re trying to catch the man that shot the President, and they’re all carrying guns.
She held her hands out straight, You don’t understand. My name’s Donna Moss, I work at the White House, I’m Josh Lyman’s Assistant. She tried to explain but the man seemed unrelenting.
She felt like she was about to cry. Josh would need her inside. He would be mad if it took her long to get inside. Once she got inside she would tell him what had happened and he would make sure that this Cop got a good talking to. He would do that so he would know that she would always be able to get to him.
It’s all right Officer, I’ll vouch for her. At these words she felt another hand on her shoulder, only this touch wasn’t stern. She turned her face to see the young black agent that was usually on the President’s private detail. She couldn’t remember his name. He was tall, a few inches taller than her, and tonight he didn’t look as young as he usually did.
She thanked him again and again as he led her into the hospital and down the corridors. From her earlier shock she had moved on to rambling, words tumbling out of her mouth like water over a brook.
They reached a room, and he squeezed her shoulder before telling her that she should go and wait in there, as that was where all the others were.
Pushing the door open, she didn’t realise that she had just interrupted a seemingly important discussion. I’m sorry, they told me I should come back here, I’m sorry.
She searched the room for Josh, but she could not find his head of unruly curls. Maybe he was looking for her? Trying to find out what was taking her so long to get there. Leo wasn’t there either – maybe they were planning their strategy on what to do next.
All eyes turned to her as she walked in, except Sam. Sam did not look at her; he just sat with
his eyes fixed on the floor. CJ’s eyes seemed to bore into her, but that wasn’t the worst thing. The worst look was Toby’s - so searching - guilt searing in waves out to her. She didn’t want him to say whatever it was that was balancing on the edge of his lips.
She asked about the President, and her heart leapt when she heard the news, until she began to wonder why none of them were smiling. They had averted death hadn’t they? She wanted to ask them why they looked so sombre, but something deep inside made her fear their answer.
Instead she was babbling again, words rushing out about her difficulty getting in. Josh would tease her for this later. About how she had turned into a babbling teenager at the hint of crisis. Still, she continued talking, about anything, and it seemed like forever because she knew that if she kept talking then maybe Toby would stop looking at her as if he was about to cut her heart out with a spoon.
She was holding on by a thread and it was Toby’s words that cut it and caused her to go tumbling to the floor like a disused marionette. Donna, Josh was hit.
In that moment she was back in Elementary school. Hit with her mother’s hand when she said
‘God dammit’, hit with a doll by her sister when she refused to share. Hit with an out of control ball by her brother when he went against the rules and played baseball inside.
Hit with what? Because she couldn’t comprehend what they were saying to her. Josh would still be pissed because she’d landed him on his ass that afternoon. Because she’d made him go jogging with Hoynes. He needed the fresh air; it was good for him.
But Toby’s eyes were dark, and his mouth was in such a straight line and she wondered how he looked so calm. His words, they didn’t tumble like hers, they were measured. But they were so, so cutting this time.
He was shot, in the chest. And still she didn’t understand. This was Josh. Josh was young; he was invincible. If you listened to him he was superman: faster than a speeding
bullet.
She could feel the blood draining out of her face. Maybe her hands were shaking, she couldn’t
look at them right now, but they were cold.
I don’t understand, she admitted, I don’t understand. And then the
realisation: Is it serious?
He told her, he explained and his voice was so, so quiet. Yes, it’s critical. She wanted him to yell, she wanted him to shout and curse because then she would know what to do,
but oh, the silence was shattering. It rang in her ears and all she could think was that she wished Sam would look at her. She wished he’d lift his Goddamn eyes from the floor and look her in the face. She wished he’d look at her because then she’d know the truth because Sam and Josh were like brothers, and if he couldn’t look at her then that meant that he was hiding something, that he was hiding the truth and maybe Josh wouldn’t walk out of there.
The timbre of the voices changed and changed again as CJ and then the grey haired man that she hadn’t noticed on her entry spoke. All the time she just stood. It was only when he finished speaking and she feared that her legs were going to collapse out from under her did she sit
down. That would have made Josh laugh, her passing out because she was worried about him.
They were talking behind her, planning the strategy that Josh should have been doing. Why wasn’t he here dammit? What did he do to deserve this? He was a good man. Yes, sometimes he let his mouth get the better of him, and he could be kind of egotistical, and yes, he teased her about her taste in men, but he was a good man.
Charlie left the room. He was here for the President, always, that was where his loyalties lay. Like hers were with Josh. In surgery. In that cold, sterile room laid out on a table, and God, she should have been there. She should have never let him go alone.
CJ’s hand was on her arm now, rubbing, trying to comfort her. Though she touched her so gently, like she was afraid she was going to break, like she was made of glass, or fractured, broken. Like Josh was.
Donna wanted to tell her not to touch her, to leave her alone. She wanted to scream, to shout, to ask more questions, but she was afraid if she opened her mouth she would be sick.
Sam still wouldn’t look at her. She wondered once if he had sold his soul to the devil to stay so young and beautiful, or if he was an angel on Earth. Though she had stopped believing in angels so many years ago, she wished for a moment that he were. So he could go and save their friend that lay alone somewhere in the building.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat in the chair. Five hours, six? People came and went as she tried to figure out how a loving God, if such a thing existed, could do this. She wanted to pray, but she wasn’t sure if anyone would listen. Who would pay attention to the frightened pleas of a non-practicing Protestant, on the behalf of a lapsed Jew?
People came in, they came out. Mrs Landingham arrived and sat with her a while, clutching her hand, holding her together with borrowed strength. She left only for a minute, to bring Donna a cup of coffee. Donna stared at the polystyrene cup, at its swirling, bitter contents. Then she
began to giggle. She might never get a chance to refuse Josh coffee again. She might never get to mock him, or banter with him, or fix his tie or walk with him down the halls.
She was laughing now, tears pouring down her face. Why was she laughing? It wasn’t funny. She might never see Josh again.
Now the mirth was gone. Instead she was crying, sobs wracking her body. Her eyes would be red tomorrow – she hoped she had concealer in her purse or she would look like death.
Death, who was coming for Josh.
She could hear voices in the background again, in her ears. They took the coffee cup out of her
hands. It would be salty with her tears now; no one would want to drink that.
She was staring at her hands, at where the cup had been, until a hand was slipped into hers. Small, a firm grip though not with out comfort and a definite grace.
Dr Bartlet, she chocked, trying to stand, out of habit, though her legs didn’t seem to want to let her. Instead, they crumpled, and it was only the Secret Service agent that appeared out of nowhere that stopped her pitching forward to the floor. He settled her back in the chair, in her chair, in the prison that she had inhabited for the last few hours.
The smile on Dr Bartlet’s face was small, though it was sincere. How could this woman be smiling when her husband had just had surgery? How was Dr Bartlet so much stronger then she was?
She sat down in the chair next to the younger woman, whose pale face was now streaked with tears. Donna? You okay? Though wasn’t the answer obvious? Donna wondered for a
second if she hadn’t gone quite mad. Couldn’t this all just be a dream?
Donna? One didn’t ignore the First Lady, so she nodded. Her head felt like a concrete
block, her neck a daisy stem. There was a pounding behind her eyes like a bass drum. It was quickly becoming a marching band.
She didn’t want to talk anymore. The silence that had felt so stifling now felt refreshing. It felt safe. If nobody spoke then they couldn’t say anything bad. Hadn’t her mother taught her something like that?
Dr Bartlet seemed to understand, she sat quietly next to her, after patting her hand. Because here they weren’t so different. It didn’t matter that she was an assistant sitting next to the First Lady. Here they were just two women, scared that their men my not be coming back to them.
They were two women, hoping and praying for more time, promising that they would give up their own lives if only their men would be all right.
They sat for a long time, talking only briefly, thoughts and memories and pleas and bad dreams of terrible out comes. Residual sobs came like hiccups, though she was calm now, she was numb again. Steeling herself against what might be.
It would be a half-life with out him. It would be incomplete. How would she continue if he were missing from her days?
But he would be okay. Of course he would, he was Josh. He was her Josh who never let anything get him down. He wouldn’t like people seeing him this weak; in fact he would hate it. He always tried to hide his failings from people, behind this big ego and sharp tongue. She knew the truth, of course she did. He was so much weaker then he let on.
She had seen him cry just once, and even then he tried to hide it. She folded shirts into a suitcase for him to return home for his father’s funeral, the night of the Illinois Primary so many
years ago, and he just stood, sorting his backpack with tears threatening his eyes. He tried to blink them away, to brush them with his hand, but they had spilled down his cheeks none the less.
People said that Josh had no heart; she had heard it from interns on the Hill. He was ruthless, he was harsh and forceful and he would get his teeth into things and not let go.
He loved his mother though – and where was she? Leo had called her hours ago – he sent email
every week at least, he called her on the phone. Sure, sometimes he forgot that other people went to bed before three in the morning and he would wake her up, but he meant well.
Josh had a heart - she knew it. She had seen it at work and she had felt it when he held her close to his body, like at Christmas when her tears fell on the original drab boards of her now favourite book. Josh had a heart because now it was broken. Someone had shot Josh’s heart.
And she knew that because she could see it in front of her. It wasn’t beating anymore. Dr Bartlet – Abbey, she had corrected, because titles didn’t matter in a time like this – had tried to explain. Josh’s heart was on bypass. It wasn’t pumping so that the doctors would have a chance to fix it. She had spoken slowly, explaining again and again, but Donna couldn’t get past the idea that Josh’s heart was no longer beating. Wasn’t he then, for all intents and purposes, dead?
She stood by the window until Leo found her. They watched in silence for a few minutes, listening only to the beeping of the machines inside, to the flustered orders of doctors who had been working through the night to save the man they both deeply cared about.
Charlie thinks it’s his fault. There was obviously reason for his sentence.
Still, she gave the answer she knew he wanted to hear. It wasn’t, she said, though she wasn’t sure if in some small recess of her mind she blamed him. She didn’t want to – what had he done? He was a twenty-one-year-old kid who had been shot at because he was in love. Josh wouldn’t have blamed him, but she wasn’t sure if she couldn’t, just a little.
More over she blamed herself, and Leo knew this. It was written in the guilty way she hung
her head. They all were looking that way tonight. Toby thought if he had only found Josh quicker, if he hadn’t searched so long then maybe this would have been different. CJ wondered if she
hadn’t stood dumbly so long, before adding her hands over Toby’s to staunch the blood that was pouring from their friend, then maybe things would have changed. Sam hated himself for spending
so long finding a doctor; but there had been so many people, and so many hurt. But if he had been quicker, if only he had hurried.
It gnawed away at Leo, the guilt. He had got in the car. He had left them without making sure everyone was okay. They were his people dammit, and he had left them. A captain goes down with his ship.
So they were all familiar with guilt. Mixed with fear it was the stench that hung in the halls of the hospital, of the West Wing. Wherever they were it was the smell that followed them, that wrapped around them like fingers around a delicate stalk.
It wasn’t your fault either. He may say it, but she would never believe it. It was her job to be there for Josh. One night she wasn’t and look what happened.
Still, I know. But she didn’t, she lied. She wondered how many more times tonight she
would lie. How many more times would
they ask her if she was okay?
So slowly back to her prison until the troops arrived. Hours passed until his heart could beat on its own again. People paced the room. Charlie and Zoey hung back, trying to blend into the walls as if they could sense the hostility that she was trying to reign in. She hated herself for it. Why couldn’t she just handle the fact that it was her fault and stop trying to shift the blame on to others?
She met Zoey in the bathroom. She was throwing up again and again. Nerves and tension and fear beyond belief. How could she stay mad at Zoey? Who loved Josh like a brother and was so scared that she was losing her lunch in the lady’s room? She was only nineteen; she wasn’t to blame.
Helping Zoey off the floor, Donna watched her rinse her mouth at the sink before turning to her. Zoey’s eyes shone bright with tears. I’m sorry. She almost chocked on the words; not because she didn’t believe them, but because they were so, so hard to say to this woman who’s heart was imploding and exploding every time anyone made a sound.
Donna wondered for a moment why her cheeks were wet. She didn’t remember crying. And Zoey was in her arms – she hadn’t remembered holding her. She was so small, like a little girl and Donna wanted nothing more then to pawn her off to somebody else. She wanted to be
selfish, to wallow in her own pain and fear, but she knew that she couldn’t.
It’ll be all right. Another lie; a promise that she couldn’t keep.
When she got back to the room, Leo had gone with the President. They got to see Josh first; they were the most important. She would be last, if they were working that way. She would
be last of them all, as who was she really? Who was she to him except the silly little girl that flitted about his office? She would probably go in and he wouldn’t even know who she was. He’d
probably ask why she was there – couldn’t she find a file or something?
Leo was back. His eyes darted to her and he cocked his head to the door. Sam stood up too; he wouldn’t make her go alone. Finally he looked her in the eye. Bastard, she thought. Coward.
I don’t need your comfort now. I wish I didn’t need your comfort now.
She grasped his hand in hers as she walked through the door.
Josh didn’t look like a real person. He looked like a doll. There were machines, boxes everywhere. She wondered what they could possibly all be doing.
He looked so pale, so lifeless that she was almost afraid to touch him. She didn’t want to hurt him further, to break something. But her hand found his cheek. She didn’t care that Sam was right behind her; he looked as desperate as she did.
Josh’s cheek was warm. His eyelids fluttered open at her touch. She hadn’t remembered his eyes being quite that colour. When she had been trying to imagine him they hadn’t looked like that. Donna? The word was a whisper on his lips. He sounded so weak.
Sam stepped up next to her and put his arm around her, giving her strength, willing her on. Why did she want to be mad at him again?
Her mouth formed words. Yeah, it’s me. How are you feeling? She didn’t remember saying them, or she would have asked a better question. He was hardly going to feel like running a marathon was he?
Eyes open, eyes closed. A huge effort on his part to get her into focus.
Have you been crying? So tactless, so surprised and innocent that she laughed. It was an odd sound, somewhat harsh in the quiet, quiet room.
She smoothed his hair back; the surgical cap had flattened wild curls. He looked like such a little boy, why wasn’t his mother here yet?
She sat down in the chair that she hadn’t seen before. Yes. An answer. Yes, I was crying. A statement.
He looked so sad, so forlorn that she would have hugged him, except she was scared of all the machines. She didn’t want to break anything. She didn’t want to break him. Why? he asked. Is everyone okay?
Sam laughed at this, so did she. Everyone’s fine, he answered, when she shook her head that she couldn’t. Everyone but you.
A crooked smile, a spectre of his usual smirk toyed at his lips. Me, Donnatella? It would have sounded cocky except his voice was so faint and his eyelids were drooping. She didn’t speak. She held his hand and hoped that was answer enough.
He opened his eyes one last time. Dude, he murmured, a smile on his closing eyes.
Sam stepped up behind Donna. Hey man, Sam answered. On the high side of thirty and they still acted like Frat boys. They had never known each other at college.
Josh’s lips moved once again. First, no sound, but he licked his lips and tried again. What’s happening?
You almost died, she thought. You’re lying here with a rail road track down the middle of your chest cause an eighteen-year-old kid and two of his friends though it would be a good idea to shoot at you.
Of course, Sam couldn’t read her mind. I saved CJ. There was mocking, teasing, joking, but there was fear. I saved CJ. CJ needed saving. I didn’t know how to save you.
Eyelids closed over heavy eyes. How she wished to do the same but knew she couldn’t. What day were they even on? She watched as his breathing evened out. Medicine kicking in. Cool. It was breath over papery lips, a smile before succumbing to sleep.
Two people stood, still afraid to move. Two pairs of blue eyes, one tousled head of black hair and blonde falling from the elastic it was trapped in. Two hands clasped together. Hearts beating whether with fear or relief or for something else, though neither were sure quite what.
They walked slowly on their return to the waiting room, holding each other up. It wasn’t a prison anymore. It was over. They hadn’t lost him. He had come back to them.
*
She paced around their house, still not really understanding how this could happen. She needed to know what was happening, what had happened.
She found herself in the lounge. Pictures of him surrounded her, and she wished they would stop looking at her.
She threw the cushions onto the floor. She needed the remote control. She needed to know what was happening.
She found it sticking out from under the armchair. Hands shaking, she clicked onto CNN. Serious faces assaulted her and the words trailed across the bottom, she could read the tragedy at the same time as hearing it.
"And we’re back with more on our breaking story. Fifteen minutes ago Hannah Morning our
Washington correspondent reported shots being heard in the Capital
building. We have received no more
information on the identities of the shooters, but we can go live to Hannah
with the latest from the outside – Hannah."
The frame cut to a woman with a microphone. She looked far too young to be a reporter, far to young to even
be out of High School. Her red hair was
whipping slightly round her face in the October air. She was trying for neutral, for professional detachment. It comforted Donna to see her fail.
"Though there was no vote scheduled for today the Capital building was
still full of members of the Senate. At
just past eight fifteen this morning a recorded six shots were heard from the
inside of the building. There have been
no reports of injury, but reporters have yet to hear from people inside the
building. The shooters’ identities
remain a mystery, as they hold the people inside the building hostage, but have
not yet released any demands."
Josh was in the building. He was being kept there against his will. They didn’t know if there were any injuries. What if he had been hurt?
Sam was in the building too. He was the Senator for California. How they had laughed when they had both been elected. World going to hell in a hand basket, Toby had joked.
What about the others that she knew? Ginger still worked with Sam; she had followed him to California and back again. She would be in the building. She would bet anything Ainsley was there too. She and Sam had been going ten rounds on next Tuesday’s vote for a month. She argued it was unconstitutional, but he said it was for the good of the people.
Donna wondered if she didn’t agree with him really, and just enjoyed arguing with him. They did it all the time. Still, she was one to talk about bringing the banter.
What if any of them were hurt? These people were her friends. She didn’t want to have to go to another funeral of a friend before their time.
*
She had been told the biggest secret of her life. He had lied. They had lied. Or had they? Had he? She was so confused. She wanted to be strong; she knew that was what she was supposed to do. She knew that was why Toby had told her, she knew it was what he expected of her.
They had never got to tell her the truth. Had she known? Because they were at her funeral now, it was too late.
The rain seemed to have been pouring for days. Maybe it had only been hours, she couldn’t remember. Her throat was sore, and she knew she looked pale. Wearing black did that to her, and she hadn’t slept in days. If Mrs Landingham had been here she would have been fussing over her, asking if she was all right or if she could get her anything. She might have even given her a cookie because she looked so sad.
Carol sniffled and wiped her eyes with a tissue. Margaret sat with her back straight, looking
ahead. God, how they would miss her. All of them, from the President to the mail boy, but their little group in ways that no one else would understand. She was their leader. Now, in this time of crisis, whom would they follow?
The senior staff sat in front, the boys in identical black suits, like mannequins. Josh fidgeted; this hit too close, she knew that. The anniversary of the shooting had been a few days ago. They pretended like they didn’t notice, but of course they did.
Toby scowled. Was it the Catholic readings at the supposed Nondenominational Service, or the memory of another funeral, when he had stood next to this woman? When she had cried for her lost sons, held so close to her heart. Was she with them now?
Donna never wanted to see this again. She never wanted the people that she loved to have to go through this again. Though she knew that she would. MS might not have been fatal, but there would be something. Leo’s years of abuse to his liver may catch up with him, stress and betrayal might be too much. She had seen it in Sam’s eyes. The cracks that started off so far down.
Then there was Josh. His heart was permanently as scarred as his chest. His mind was scarred too. He had tried to hide it, but it had caught up with him last Christmas. She had watched him try and self-destruct, and she tried to hold him together herself, but her fear and her love for him had driven her to Leo. Help him, she had pleaded, I don’t know what to do.
Now they were here. How had this happened? When had it started to go so wrong? Where would they go from here?
Down, was where they went. Congressional hearings, fights between themselves and immense
mistakes. They moved away from each other in a time when they should have held tightly together.
Cliff. His name was Cliff. She had just wanted to go out with someone who had nothing to do with any of it. She hadn’t known he was on House Oversight. He hadn’t known, not first of all. It had been an innocent mistake.
As soon as she found out she had told Josh. He had been so mad. He had looked so hurt; she almost couldn’t look him in the face. She wasn’t sure why she felt so guilty; it wasn’t as though he had been there for her recently. So what if she had gone out looking for someone else? They weren’t each other’s. They never had been. Sure, she had wished, she had hoped, but she had come to her senses. They were friends. They couldn’t be anything else.
It didn’t stop her lying for him though. She would have gone to jail a hundred times over before letting the truth of his breakdown get out. She protected Josh. She would never again
leave him to protect himself.
It’ll be okay, he had told her. The noise of the water had been so loud.
She had never meant for it to end like this. She should have said no. She should never have let him come upstairs, but he was so sweet. He wasn’t a jerk. He was actually a nice guy and he was interested in her. So she said yes. She should have said no.
If Cliff was the wedge that tore them from each other, Amy was the wall that Josh built to separate them. Did he even know that was what he was doing? He barely even spoke to her for
months, and there was certainly no banter. It felt like she had lost a limb.
She was losing him all over again. She watched as he left her and turned to this other woman for comfort. What had she done to deserve this? Had she ever stopped being there for him?
It was over a year before Josh and Amy’s relationship finally imploded. There was yelling and
arguing, but according to Josh, it was actually fairly amicable. He had called Donna up and they had sat on his stoop talking and drinking beer until the sun rose. I’m sorry, he had told her.
Sorry about what? she had asked.
He had concentrated on peeling the label off of his bottle. This year.
There was no further explanation. They both knew what he meant. They shared in the guilt of it.
Me too, she told him. They didn’t look at each other; they were too ashamed. They knew they had hurt one another; they had been purposely mean and scathing. He had wanted to hurt her; she had hurt him first.
It was meant to only be retaliation; it was never meant to go on this long.
Did you love her? It wasn’t an inappropriate question, just one that both of them had wondered over for so very, very long.
He drank more of his beer. How much would it take to soften all the blows, for them to forget this year, to go back to a better place? To beer and red lights. I don’t know. His voice was soft, but honest. I wanted to. Is that the same thing?
Donna shrugged, kept silent. She would rather that he loved Amy, and wanted to spend his life with her. If he had been truly in love then she could understand why he had left her. Not that he had ever been with her.
Maybe it is. Though she wished it wasn’t. Her heart screamed at him not to love her. Maybe it isn’t. So much she wished for that. How confused she was: love her, don’t love her. It hurts if you do but I’ll kill myself if you don’t. Why did this all have to happen?
She sipped her beer, blew over the neck to make the bottle sing. Did you love him? She knew it would come about to this sooner or later. As she had said, Josh wasn’t alone in his guilt.
She wanted to lie, because he was already so disappointed in her. No, I didn’t love him. He was a nice guy, but I barely knew him. She couldn’t this time. She had to admit that he had
been nothing more than a fling. This, their year of separation had been the result of nothing more than a fling that Josh was never meant to find out about.
Why did all times like this have soundtrack of silence? There must have been cars, traffic, and
other people around. The city never slept, but all she could remember was the silence between them. She wasn’t sure whether it was threatening or comforting.
So what happens now? And wasn’t that just the ultimate question. They had been through so very, very much. Would it get better? Would things get worse? Not that she really saw how that was possible. Hadn’t they reached rock bottom?
She looked at him. He looked at his shoes, played with the laces of his sneakers. I’m not sure. She spoke; he looked up, though facing ahead. I guess we finish our beer and I go home. Baby steps.
He smiled, slightly. Maybe he understood the simplicity. Sure, he agreed.
Then he raised his eyes and they looked at each other, and for a moment the year was erased. For a moment they were back to laughing and joking and being simply them.
There was nothing special about the smile. No long poetic notions about its clarity of expression or its perfect professions of love long denied. It was just a smile, just two friends reaching the bottom of bottles of Bud.
See you in the morning? A tease. The sun had been up for going on a half hour. He was baiting her, expecting a rebuttal.
She gave it to him without hesitation. It’s six in the morning Joshua, she teased. It’s Sunday and you have nothing on your schedule. He couldn’t argue, she knew what he was
doing day to day far better than he did.
He grinned. Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow. A gesture. We’ll try and get back on
track? She knew he understood it now.
I’ll call you later. She compromised. I give you about an hour until you call me because you can’t find something.
He laughed but he didn’t deny it. You okay getting home?
She remembered him asking that before. She couldn’t think when, he must have asked it a million times, but one stuck out in her memory. When had that been? I’ll be fine. She was afraid of her neighbourhood at times, she lived where she could afford, but she had always been okay.
So she walked to her car, blue paint chipping, peeling bumper stickers: ‘Bartlet for President’, ‘In democracy its your vote that counts; in feudalism its your count that votes’. She had cracked herself up when she had seen that. He had bought it for her in South Carolina, when they had campaigned there the first time.
She got in; she drove away, waving to him as she left him on the steps. They were moving forward. There was at least a half a chance that everything would be okay.
*
The phone was ringing. The phone was ringing off the hook and she was almost afraid to pick it up. Still, she knew she had to so she grabbed the cordless and read the caller ID. Then answered.
"Donna?" Leo once again, harried, worried.
She hated hearing him like this. She wanted to turn it off, to throw the phone down and not have to deal with any of this. She wished she wasn’t the adult. Oh God, the kids. "Yeah?"
Whisper was all she could manage.
"I talked some of my guys. They have preliminary reports but nothing definite. Donna, they think it’s an extremist fringe group."
She was quiet for a second before, "Islamic?" Things had gotten so much better, it had been a long time since all those crash downs but…
Leo’s voice was thick with something. Disbelief? "Christian fundamentalists." She could see why he was surprised.
"What the hell Leo?" she exclaimed, and it wasn’t lost on her how much she sounded like her husband. She wondered whether she was channelling him. No, because then she would know he was okay.
Leo carried on, not thrown off. "I’ve been talking to Al Caldwell. He’s trying to get us some more information on who these people are. He told me to tell you you’re all in his prayers."
"Tell him to pray fast," she pleaded. "I don’t want to have to tell my children…" she wasn’t sure how to word it.
Still, he understood, he knew. He was a father, and a grandfather to her children and his own. "You won’t have to. I’ll be over in ten minutes. Call my cell if you need me."
"Thanks Leo," she said, and hung up before she could hear the dial tone.
He had to come home safely. He just had to.
*
He always said her car was a piece of crap. He told her she should get a new one, but she had replied that she was a woman on a budget.
You’ll regret it, he told her, when it breaks down in the middle of nowhere.
She had told him he was worrying too much. I’m a big girl, she joked, and I can take care of myself.
It was rainy and cold. There was ice over the ground, though she didn’t know that, because she hadn’t left the office all day. She ran to the car, holding her coat tight around her body, trying to ward off the chilled winter air.
Getting into her car she turned the heating up full blast and warmed her hands in front of the air vent. It was freezing, freezing cold.
She drove, too fast probably, but desperate to get home. The day had been one in a stretch of long days. It was two in the morning, and she was just going home. And people thought she had a glamorous job.
Josh had been stressed for days, and so she had by proxy. There was a vote in the house in two days, and four of their guys had hopped the fence. Josh had been meeting all day trying to persuade, cajole, even bribe them to come back to the team.
They took gun control seriously now.
She wondered what the car next to her was doing. The people in the front were obviously fighting; she could see that from her position in the lane over. The car was swerving slightly. She concentrated on the road in front. Damn ice.
The road was pretty empty, so the drive home should have been quick and easy. And it would have been if the car next to her hadn’t suddenly swerved into her lane. If she hadn’t slammed on her breaks, skidding on the icy surface. If she hadn’t slid into the embankment on the side of the road. If she hadn’t banged her head on the steering wheel, passed out. If the other car then hadn’t swerved into hers where it lay, crumpled, and she lay bleeding.
Josh was still in his office when his cell phone rang. It was getting on three in the morning and he wondered who on earth would be calling him. He checked his number display and smiled. Donna, she had gotten home and probably calling to convince him to do the same.
He opened his phone, and straight away realised that something wasn’t right. Instead of Donna’s soft, sleepy tones he was met with the panicky hiccups of her roommate, Ally.
Josh? She was normally confidant and extrovert. Josh, there’s been an accident.Her voice was shaky, but a little slurred. She had probably been sleeping.
He didn’t want to ask the question. Ally, what’s happened? He didn’t want an answer. He didn’t want to know.
Still, she did answer: quickly, quietly. She didn’t want it to be true either. There’s been a car accident. She must have slid on the ice. She didn’t know exactly what had happened; the hospital hadn’t given much detail when they called her.
He was already out the door, ignoring colleagues, cleaners, even security until they made him stop. Is she okay? Where is she? He was frantic.
She understood and checked what she had written down in haste. They took her to GW. I was going to go there now, I just, I just knew I should call. She paused, understanding only a tiny amount of everything that was going on in his head. Josh? You okay?
He raced to his car, jumped in. He turned on the engine. GW? he repeated making sure his mind hadn’t imagined it in a fit of hysteria.
Yeah, she affirmed. Can you pick me up on your way? I wouldn’t ask usually, but I - Ally couldn’t drive. Never had learned. She usually had her boyfriend drive her everywhere.
Josh understood. She was as desperate to know what was going on as he was. I’ll be there as quick as I can, he promised.
Drive carefully. A simple statement, a send off. It had never seemed ironic before.
Donna woke up dizzy and with blurred vision. For a moment she wondered where she was, the lights, the sounds, the room was unfamiliar. Everything was white, clean and empty. She was afraid for a moment of its starkness, of her isolation, until she felt a warm hand slip into hers. She tired to turn her head to see who is was, and only then did she realise that she was wearing a
neck brace. Pain shot through to her little toes, and she must have cried out slightly, because the hand squeezed tighter and the person stood up to smooth her hair from her face. You okay?
He looked so tired, worry lines creased his forehead and she knew he probably hadn’t slept in the time he had been with her. How long had she been there? Josh? She knew it was him, it was more or a statement then a question. What happened?
For a moment he looked worried. His brow scrunched up and his eyes became murky; troubled and filled with doubt. You were in an accident. You crashed your car. The police called Ally, she’s here by the way, she went to get some tea. He didn’t give her any more details then
that. He didn’t really know many more details then that about what had happened. She would have to fill those in herself.
She remembered slightly: the erratic red car with the screaming occupants. Slamming her breaks on and spinning, sliding out of control. What happened to the other people – the ones in the other car? She remembered their car sliding too. She was sure of it. Are they okay? She didn’t think they had meant to cause an accident. It couldn’t have been malicious. They were probably tired, had been driving most of the night and just wanted to get home.
Josh’s smile was small; he shook his head, as if with disbelief. They’re both fine, he told her, cuts and bruises, nothing worse. They came in the same time as you. He looked a
little mad; she knew that he would.
Donna squeezed her hand in his. It was an accident, she reminded him, but it didn’t change the look on his face. She tried to sit up a little, but was met with aches and shooting pain down her back and legs.
In a moment Josh was up and panicking. Do you need me to get someone? Donna, should I go find a doctor?
But she shook her head. No, she whispered, settling back down and waiting for the pain to subside. No, I’m okay. Just sore, she admitted. There was a dull throbbing everywhere it seemed. Is anything broken?
He perched on the edge of the bed, careful not to cause her anymore pain. Other than your car? he joked, and she groaned.
Totalled? she checked, and he nodded. What else? It certainly felt like other things could be broken, but she couldn’t look down well enough to check. She was pretty restricted by the collar about her neck.
He was silent for a moment, looking at her, as if to remember all that the doctors had told him. You broke a couple ribs - that was the seat belt. You hit your head on the steering
wheel. You bruised your spine but I’m not sure how you did that. You broke your wrist too. He looked guilty telling her, as if he was the one who had inflicted her injuries, caused her to hurt as she did.
She closed her eyes. Could have been worse, she noted. Worse things happened to people in car accidents, much worse things. People died in car accidents. She was lucky. This was her second accident and she was still alive. Lots of people drove more carefully then she did, they had more reliable cars that should have kept them safe. Lots of those people died and here she was still alive.
Donna? Sometimes she wished people wouldn’t say her name like that. Like they expect
something to be wrong. Maybe if they didn’t say it like that then nothing could be wrong.
She opened her eyes again. She was so tired, she knew she had been unconscious, but it felt like she had been awake for days. Yeah? Her voice sounded weak, even to her own ears. She wished it wouldn’t, she knew it would make him worry more.
She looked at him, moving her eyes rather than her head to stop the pain. He was looking at her, his eyes cloudy with guilt, with sorrow and with pain and she wanted to hug him, to make the look go away. I was terrified when Ally called me, he admitted. All I could think of were the terrible things that might have happened to you. He paused; trying it seemed to word what he wanted to say in the right way. I think I ran a couple red lights, he admitted, and there was a small smile on his face.
She understood what he meant. She gripped his hand tighter to convey that, so he would know that she appreciated so much what he had done just to be there.
She opened her mouth, voice tired and quiet. Thank you for coming to get me. There was no one else she would have been happier to wake up to, but she couldn’t say that to him, not yet, not like this.
Though maybe he knew that was what she meant. He smiled; he raised her hand and brushed her fingers against his lips. I would never not come for you. His voice was soft and huskier then usual. I promise.
He stood up then and pressed a kiss to her lips. It wasn’t romantic, yet it wasn’t fraternal. It was caring and loving, gentle and compassionate. Go to sleep Donnatella, he told
her. I’m not going anywhere.
So she let herself sleep and when she woke up they talked about what had happened and the past and where they were going. They talked about them as a ‘them’, about the press and their jobs. They talked about fearing that the other wouldn’t come home at night. About hospitals and gunshots and blood and accidents. About their friends, their colleagues and what they my say if their situation was to change.
After discussing all of that, they decided to throw the doubts aside. They wanted to be together, and from that moment, they decided that they would be.
*
Donna sat in the lounge, on the couch, with CNN still running in the background. They had moved onto the weather news. She closed her eyes, not crying, though her throat felt like it was mutinying from the rest of her body. Her mind was spinning, reeling out of control, and for a fleeting moment she wondered if it was possible that they were cursed. Why did these things
keep happening to them? Weren’t they decent enough people? Didn’t they try and do as many beneficial things in the world as they could? They had gotten a good man elected President, and then they had gotten him re-elected, they had passed bills and laws that had helped people all over the country and the world. They had raised four children, all of whom were smart, socially conscious and caring. Couldn’t someone cut them a little slack?
They had gone through so much to be together. They had been married close to fourteen years and they were happy. They had never stopped loving one another, even for a second. She loved him as much then as she had the day they had promised they would be each other’s forever.
*
They got married in September. There had been some question as to the weather, but the day was perfect, crisp and sunny. There was that wonderful autumn smell in the air, that one that excited children as they started back to school.
It had taken them a long time to decide what kind of wedding they wanted. Neither one really practiced their religion, though they both knew what their parents expected of them, nor did they want to be totally dismissive of tradition. In the end they decided on a small chapel, a Justice of the Peace, and a blessing by both a Minister and a Rabbi. It was definitely going to be an interesting wedding.
They had to have security guards posted on the entrances and exits to the chapel. The premises had already been checked and swept by the Secret Service so that the President could be there. The guest list was written practically in stone, anyone wishing to bring a guest or partner had to call ahead so they could be checked and vetted.
The Press were obviously interested in the story. As much as they had been very good about not crossing the lines when it came to privacy, this was a big, star studded, high society DC wedding. Not that Josh and Donna counted themselves as high society, but the press seemed to. Some of the people that they knew had actually been invited to the wedding were members of the press, and were told they were allowed to write about it if they so wished. Danny, who had been the first member of the Press to break the story of Josh and Donna’s relationship and subsequent engagement, was the first member of the Press on the list. Donna wouldn’t have disagreed, but Josh insisted, saying that he owed him a few. Donna didn’t even ask what that was about; with Josh it could have been
anything.
Katie was also on the list, though she said that she would leave her notebook behind, as she was a political correspondent, not a gossip columnist. When she had received her invitation she had found Donna in the White House Mess and given her the biggest hug. I wanted you to come, Donna had explained. There were so many times when you could have written awful things about Josh or I, the way some of the others did, but you never stooped that low. You showed yourself as a true friend to us, and we wanted you to be there to celebrate with us.
By the time that the day actually arrived, many of the people involved seemed to be having anxious fits. CJ was worried that the uninvited press wouldn’t behave, that someone would try
and sneak in. Sam was panicking over his speech, and about losing the rings. He made sure that Toby had both a copy of the speech and held the rings until they got to the church. Sam definitely knew his own flaws – klutziness being one of them.
Donna’s sister Antonia was worried because the bridesmaids’ dresses were too long. She had spent the best part of the morning tacking up the hems.
More over, she was worried because Donna didn’t seem to be worried about any of it. How are you not freaking out? She knew her sister; she knew she was prone to worry if everything
wasn’t exactly right.
Donna just laughed as she pulled on her stockings. I’m marrying Josh today, she reminded her sister, as if she could forget. In the time it took us to get together we both could have died, but we didn’t. We made it to this point. So I’m not freaking out about the flowers, or the dresses, or about whether the ushers all remembered to wear black socks, because all that really matters is that Josh and I are here, and we love each other, and we’re going to be together for the rest of our lives, starting today.
She walked with her father down the aisle past a sea of streaming faces: her mother, Josh’s mother, CJ, Carol, Ginger, Bonnie and Margaret. Matt Skinner and Ainsley Hayes, their friends despite political differences. Ally had made it down from New York for the occasion; she had moved there with her boyfriend soon after Donna and Josh had moved in together. Joey and Kenny had flown in from California for the festivities. Charlie and Zoey, Ellie and Liz. Annie was there too,
though she was grinning rather then crying. Dr Bartlet wept with joy from her place between her granddaughter and Mallory, and Leo and the President even looked suspiciously teary. Antonia was sniffling from her place behind her, and as Donna turned to give her the flowers, she saw the tears running down her older sister’s face.
For a moment Donna was almost sad, because people who should have been there weren’t. Josh’s sister and his father hadn’t lived to see the day. Instead Leo sat in the place of honour next to Martha Lyman; Josh had insisted. Mrs Landingham wasn’t there either, and she would have been so happy, Donna couldn’t help but think, maybe she was there in spirit.
This wasn’t a time for crying though. There had been too many tears over their years together, and today was for happiness. Her smile went from ear to ear, it radiated and her eyes twinkled like stars: a cliché, but never truer or more accurate.
She said goodbye to her father, she kissed him on the cheek and held him close for a second. She hadn’t been a child for a long, long time, but this was her final moment as his little girl. She would belong to someone else from now on, and he would belong to her. Her father stepped away from her, and nodded towards her man.
Dimples, they were the first things she saw. Then his eyes, and in that moment she had never been happier. She saw no fear there, not even slight trepidation. All she saw was love, rich and all consuming. His eyes were the silk of conkers, matte to her shimmer, but smouldering in all their own way. Not sexually, there was no thought of that here, not now. No, they smouldered with unadulterated adoration and contentment.
His men stood behind him, brothers together in the perfect black tuxedos. Sam eyes twinkled with what looked suspiciously like tears. Josh was, after all his best friend, and he was about to do the best thing he had ever done with his life.
Sam fidgeted in his suit, looking crisp and young as though the years she had known him had been only a dream. He played with the rings in his pockets, reassuring himself, checking again and again that they were there, as though Toby would have let him forget something as important as the rings. Toby was trying to look ornery, but even he couldn’t manage that today. His lips curled upwards in what was classed as a smile by the people that knew him.
Donna knew Toby was happy for them. The day she and Josh had announced their engagement he had drawn her into his office. You’re really going to marry him? he asked, and Donna nodded. She didn’t say anything because she wasn’t exactly sure where he was going with this.
Then Toby did something she had never seen him do to anyone, except maybe CJ and Ginger. He stood up and he hugged her. She stood stock still for a moment, too shocked to move, but then she wrapped her arms around him. I’m proud of you, he told her. A lesser person wouldn’t have stuck around this long.
She took a step back from him, as he did from her. I had to, she said, shaking her head and smiling. We do crazy things for love.
He looked at her and he nodded. He understood. She knew he did. She had seen it in his eyes when he looked at certain people. Moving around to sit back behind his desk, to put professional distance between them, he added He ever does anything to hurt you, whatever it is, you come to me. The man will fear for the safety of his femurs.
Donna stood watching him for a few seconds, a smile on her face and her eyes all teary. Thank you was all she could manage before he waved her out.
Now leave me alone.
And now he tried not to look happy as they made their life long commitment to each other. No longer the White House eunuchs, at least one of them was breaking free. And he thanked God that it was Josh, and that he had at last come to his senses and learned to value that which had always been right under his nose.
That day the marriage of Joshua Lyman and Donnatella Moss was thrice blessed, celebrated by all and cheered over hundreds of glasses of champagne. They swore their lives to one another, forever and always.
Till death parts us.
*
Leo let himself in with the key he kept to their house in case of emergencies. He wandered through, careful not to trip over the scattered shoes in the hall, and made his way to the
lounge. He could hear the hum of the TV before he walked through the door. She was sitting quietly on the couch, the remote in trembling hands. She was deathly pale, and what troubled him
the most was that this was not the first time he had seen her this way. If only it was.
"Donna?" he spoke softly, but he still made her jump a little.
She turned her head to face him, and he could make out tears pooling at the edges of her eyes. She didn’t stand; she didn’t smile and offer him a hug and cups of coffee as she usually did when he visited. Instead she just stared at him from where she sat, with tears now dripping off her
eyelashes. "Leo," she wept, her voice desperate and sounding so, so young. Almost like one of her daughters instead of a grown woman.
Leo sighed and moved to sit down next to her. "Ah, Donna," he murmured as he wrapped her in his arms. Over the years that had passed Donna had become as much a daughter to him as Josh was a son. He wanted to tell her that it was going to be all right. He wanted to be able to promise her that, but he didn’t know that, and she knew he didn’t. They had all been political players long enough to spot an empty promise when one came their way.
Donna pulled out of his arms eventually, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I’m sorry," she told him, "I didn’t mean to, I just…" She couldn’t finish her sentence; she just shook her head in surrender of the situation. She waved her hand at the television, indicating what she had been watching. "They’re not saying anything," she told him. "Why was it whenever we did
something wrong it was on CNN within the hour, but when it’s something important we can’t find anything out?"
She was trying to be funny, but the humour was lost because tears were tracking down her cheeks. She wiped at them angrily. She didn’t want to cry, that wouldn’t achieve anything.
Leo was about to answer her; to talk about what he knew when the phone rang again. She was surprised for a moment, but when she picked up the phone and looked at the caller ID, she almost smiled. She answered the phone.
"Tell me you know what’s going on," a breathless CJ pleaded.
Donna checked her watch. "You just turned on the news?" she asked. It would be about five on the West Coast, she was surprised CJ was up already.
CJ’s voice softened. "I got a call from Joey Lucas and Kenny. She’s been doing some work for Wheeler; she was at the airport. She was going to call, but she thought you wouldn’t answer a number you didn’t recognise. After she called we turned on CNN. Donna, what’s going on?" She
paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "Josh and Sam are there aren’t they?" Her voice was soft, as though she didn’t want to know the answer, not really. Like she couldn’t bear if it
was bad news.
Donna couldn’t help but think back to the other times when she had heard CJ sound so nervous. It didn’t happen very often she was pleased to say. It was so awful to hear CJ like that. She was the brave one, she was the one Donna was supposed to be like when she grew up.
More then anything Donna wished she were here right now, she wished they could be together. CJ was one of Josh’s best friends in such a different way to other people. They didn’t see each other enough anymore, now that CJ was living in California again. "I wish you were here," Donna blurted out, before she had even thought about what she was saying.
CJ’s voice was quiet, softly flattered. "Are you alone?" she asked. "I can be on the next plane," she promised.
Donna shook her head, even though logically she knew that CJ could not see her. "Leo’s here," she told her. "I’m not on my own. You stay in California, I promise I’ll call when I know anything."
There was a silence between them, not really knowing what to say to one another. CJ wanted to offer hope, but she knew it wasn’t truly founded and wouldn’t be a great comfort. "When he gets home tell him I’m going to kick his ass for putting us through this again. Sam too. You tell them
that okay?"
Donna recognised false cheeriness, but played along none the less. It was better then sobbing down the phone. "I will, I promise." She thought. She knew there was an unwritten protocol for things like this. "Can you tell Toby what’s going on? And call Joey back - she’ll be worried, especially if she’s not getting any news why she’s travelling. I’ll try calling Martha, she’ll be
frantic." She was almost tripping over her words again, until CJ stopped her.
"Donna? Are you going to be okay?" her voice was so gentle, so worried for her friend, for what must be her heart on the verge of breaking, after it had been patched back together so many times in the years that they had known one another.
Donna felt Leo’s hand be placed on her shoulder. She realised he had probably been able to hear the whole conversation, her side and CJ’s; the room was so quiet. "I have to be CJ, I have four children to take care of. I have to be."
CJ seemed to understand. She loved Donna and Josh’s children with the same fierce, protective love that she felt for all her ex colleagues. They were like family to her, and there was nothing she held closer to her heart.
"So explain to me how this happened,"
*
So explain to me how this happened. CJ was trying to be angry, her arms folded across her chest as she looked at the two grinning idiots that stood sheepishly in her office.
Josh raised his eyebrow and smirked, but she simply threw him a glare. I don’t mean that, she clarified; I thought you guys had a plan. I thought you were waiting until we were out of the White House.
Donna smiled and sat down in the chair on the other side of her desk. Josh’s hands rested comfortably on her shoulders, and Donna unconsciously leaned into his touch. We thought so too. Someone seemed to have other ideas, she grinned.
CJ lay her head down on the table. Honestly you two, it’s ten more months – you couldn’t wait that long? Still, when she looked up, there was a smile on her face. You’re happy about this I take it?
The stupid grins on their faces told her that they were, but Josh still resolutely answered, Yeah, we’re happy about this.
Later on, Donna confided in her that they had both been a little shocked when they had found out, but they had come around to the idea pretty quickly. It wasn’t as though they hadn’t wanted kids; they just weren’t sure about whether just then was the perfect time. I freaked out, Donna admitted to her friend honestly. I thought that he would flip, but he took it better then I did.
The News travelled fast around the West Wing, as news always did, and soon everyone Josh or Donna walked by in the corridor was congratulating them. They told Sam, because he would have been
upset if he had simply found out. He hugged Josh excitedly and smiled inanely as he kissed Donna on the cheek and held her tight. I’m really happy for you, he said, and they knew that he really was.
They told Toby because they had told Sam, and he acted as if he didn’t care, but when they all went out to the bar later he watched them, cigar on his lips and a smile on his face as the couple danced and bickered when Donna tried to steal a sip of Josh’s beer, and he asserted that it ‘wasn’t good for the baby’. Josh and Donna hadn’t seen Toby watching, but CJ had told them about it later, and they laughed that he was getting soft and sentimental in his old age.
Josh requested an audience with the President and Leo the next day to tell them officially, even though they had already heard it down the grapevine. The President slapped him on the back, smiled, and laughed. He warned that any and all girls that may come along would have him wrapped round their little fingers by the first smile. He offered him a drink, as men did, but Josh declined. The President made Josh promise to congratulate Donna, and then sent both other men out of his office.
Before he could leave, Leo pulled Josh into his own office, past Margaret’s empty desk; the assistant’s had taken Donna out to lunch for a mini impromptu celebration.
Leo sat behind his desk, and Josh danced nervously in front of it. Leo put on his glasses, and for a moment Josh was worried that he was going to be reprimanded. I thought the two of you had talked about this? His voice was carefully neutral. I thought you were going to wait until after January?
Josh stared at his shoes. We were. We had planned to. Things just…didn’t exactly go as we had intended.
He heard the older man sigh, but did not look up. Damn Lyman genes. The kid’s going to take
after you. Josh was surprised by the words, and even more surprised to find that when he looked up, Leo was grinning.
Josh grinned back. He really was happy about it. The kid should be born way before the midterms. We won’t disrupt anything, I’m sure Donna will stay and work as long as humanly possible.
At this Leo shook his head. Well you don’t let her. You make her go home when she needs to Josh, she can’t be working eighteen-hour days anymore.
Josh nodded, his eyes wide open, causing him to look like he was ten years old again. I know. I’ll be good Leo. I’ll make sure she goes home, I’ll let her rest, I’ll try not to yell. I promise.
Leo looked over his glasses at the younger man. He remembered the first week after finding
out he was going to be a father. Josh was probably scared out of his mind. I know you’ll try. I just warn you, she’ll get pissed, she’ll yell at you. She’ll accuse you of being over bearing and of coddling her. But I tell you now, whatever she says, she only means half of it, and she loves you anyway.
He looked at Josh, whose eyes were still as round as pennies. Understand? he checked, and Josh nodded.
Good. He looked down at the papers in front of him. Now get out of my office.
*
"How is it the Christian fundamentalists? What issues do they have with the United States Senate that has caused them to go to such extreme lengths?" CJ’s voice was strained. She
couldn’t believe what Leo had told her when Donna handed over the phone for him to explain. She sat with her eyes glued to CNN, though she listened to every word of the conversation.
Leo rubbed his temples with the fingers on his free hand. "I’m not sure CJ. Al Caldwell thinks it might have something to do with the President’s invitation to the Chinese delegation."
"China? What the hell does that have to do with the Senate?" She was angry and she was scared. "And what the hell does that have to do with the Christian fundamentalists?"
Leo closed his eyes. "You’ve heard it before CJ, we all have - "
"China persecutes Christians," she chimed in. "Yeah, I’ve heard it, but that was a long time ago Leo, China’s really cleared up its human rights violations."
He sighed, frustrated. "Apparently not enough. I think it’s bull CJ, I don’t think that’s what it’s about at all, but I’m not in the position now to be dealing with these people."
"Leo - " That wasn’t the answer that she wanted to hear.
"You know I would if I could CJ, you know that." His voice was sharp and heated. He felt Donna slip her hand into his, and he calmed again.
CJ’s voice on the other end was quiet. "Yeah. I know you would. I’m sorry."
They were all caught up in their own worries and fears about what was happening.
Tactfully, CJ cleared her voice; on the path they were treading the ice was too thin. "Do they know which group it is?" she asked, knowing this was the type of thing Leo would either know, or be able to find out.
He looked at Donna out of the corner of his eye. She was studying intently her wedding ring,
and the way that the light in the room bounced off of it.
"The Lambs of God," he stated simply, and was suddenly met with "What the Hell?" in stereo from both CJ and Donna.
"Are you kidding me?" Donna sounded the most together she had all day.
"I thought they stopped…disbanded…something – I thought they were over years ago?" CJ’s voice was just as unbelieving.
Leo wished he could explain to them, he wished he had the answers. "So did we." But he did not. "They want something," he admitted, "but no one’s quite sure what that is yet."
"Hold on a sec." CJ covered her end of the phone and could be heard in muffled tones talking to someone else in the room. The voice sounded familiar. "You guys, I have to go. Joey’s calling on my cell and I should fill her in on what’s going on." And with that, she hung up.
Leo placed the phone down on the table and turned to face Donna, who was once again staring at the television screen. The moving pictures caused light to ripple across her face. With out turning to him, she whispered, "This is all just a game to them isn’t it?"
*
From the day he was born, Noah Benjamin Lyman was the darling of the White House. A perfect specimen of a child, he was born bang on seven pounds and had been lucky enough to inherit his mother’s eyes and his father’s dimples. He was, in the truest sense of the word, adorable.
As both mother and baby were fit and well, they were allowed home three days after little Noah was born. Exhausted, Donna fell asleep almost as soon as they got home, which left Josh alone with his son.
He was still in state of awe over the fact that he and Donna had created this little but complete person. He couldn’t help but count and count again Noah’s ten tiny fingers and
ten tiny toes. It seemed almost like a miracle to him.
Noah was just drifting off to sleep when the phone rang. Panicked that it would wake his snoozing son, Josh lunged for it with his free hand. Josh Lyman? His voice was hushed and he hoped that the person on the other end wasn’t hard of hearing.
There was a slight chuckle on the other end of the phone, a folksy laugh that Josh straight away recognised. Who’s sleeping – wife or child? the President’s fatherly yet mocking voice asked.
Josh kept his voice low, but calmed a little as Noah snuggled in to the crook of his arm. Both actually. What can I do for you Mr President? Josh was still technically on paternity leave, though he knew that he would be called on in an emergency. The President didn’t sound stressed though.
Nothing to worry about Josh, the President reassured. I was just wondering if you could bring that young son of yours in to meet me. I wanted to come to the hospital, but the damn Secret Service said it wasn’t secure enough. Leo showed me his photo, but well, I rather like to meet him myself if it’s possible.
Josh was surprised for a moment. The Leader of the Free World was calling to request a personal audience with his four-day-old son?
Then he came to his senses. This man wasn’t just the President; he was a man too. He had always said that his Senior Staff were like children to him, and he and Josh were especially close after the shooting and that Christmas. Why wouldn’t he want to meet the newest edition to their large, unusual family?
Josh held the phone with his chin and used his hand to scribble a note to Donna – ‘Noah’s been summoned to the Oval. I’m on my cell if you need me. Have a nice sleep. Josh’. Sure I can bring him in Mr President. He signed the note with a flourish, and left in on the coffee table where she would definitely see it. We’ll be there in about a half and hour.
After finishing the phone call and settling Noah in his carry car seat, Josh set about packing the bag full of everything they might possibly need. Leaving the house took three times as long as it would usually have.
The arrived in the West Wing and tried to covertly make it to the Oval Office with out interrupting other people’s work. He knew that he had failed when he heard Ginger’s squeak of excitement, and found himself surrounded by most of the support staff. After much cooing and exclamations of ‘he’s just so cute!’ Josh finally made it into the office adjoining the Oval.
Charlie was sitting at his desk, and chuckled when Josh entered. How much stuff do you need man? he laughed, and Josh laughed with him.
You have no idea.
Charlie snuck a look at the baby, though he tried to be sneaky as he did it. Turning back to his computer he told Josh, You’re going to have to take some pictures of him. Charlie continued to look at his computer screen as he spoke. Zoey’s so jealous that she can’t be here to see him, she wants you to email her some pictures so she doesn’t feel left out.
Zoey had been in England for the summer, and wasn’t due back for another couple of weeks. She had phoned Josh and Donna at the hospital as soon as Charlie had called her to convey her congratulations.
Josh was just about to respond that he would when the door to the Oval Office swung open. The President exited, followed by Admiral Fitzwallace, Nancy McNally and a few other men in uniform. The uniformed men left quickly, but Fitz and Nancy stopped to steal a look at the baby, and to express their congratulations before Josh and Noah were whisked into the Oval.
Noah had woken up as Josh spoke to Charlie, but being the agreeable child that he was, kept quiet until they were in the Oval, then only snuffling to be fed. Sitting down on one of the
room’s stripy sofas, Josh pulled a bottle out of his backpack and swiped the teat across Noah’s lip until he clamped his mouth on to it and began to suck.
When Josh looked up, he realised that the President was watching him, with a dopey look on his face. For a long time we all thought you were going to throw this away Josh. His voice relayed a memory, sounded almost wistful. Sometimes I just wanted to issue a Presidential order for someone to smack some sense into you.
Josh understood what the President was referring too. He wasn’t the first person to have this
conversation with him. After a few too many beers both CJ and Sam had congratulated him on managing to pull his head out of his ass and see what was right in front of him. Toby had conveyed his agreement with their statements. Josh imagined that Leo would have too, if he weren’t so…Leo. Yes Sir, because he wasn’t sure how else to answer in concurrence.
Noah was beginning to lose interest in the bottle; he moved his mouth away from it and waved his hands. Josh, with his free hand, capped it and dropped it back into the bag.
The President looked at him sheepishly for a second. Do you mind if I? He trailed off, but held his hands out for the baby.
Josh almost laughed out loud at the look on the President’s face. As if he would say no! Knock yourself out, he said, handing over the squirming bundle of child.
The President held him as a man who had been the father to three children. Hi Noah, he spoke to the baby. I’m The President, but you can call me Grandpa Jed. He looked at Josh to check that he wasn’t being presumptuous, but Josh just grinned. The President carried Noah over and sat behind the large wooden desk, and pointed at the pictures that sat on there. See that? he told the four-day-old child. That’s Abbey, and she’s going to be jealous that I got to hold you before she did. He pointed to another picture. Those are my girls, he
explained in a hushed voice. Elizabeth, Eleanor and Zoey. Now, you’re an only child for the time being, he said, letting the possibility of the future hang in the air. But if you ever have brothers and sisters, you be nice to them, because you’re going to be the biggest and you have to set an example.
The President looked down at the small, squirming child to find that he was staring back with his large, crystal blue eyes. This made the President smile. My first grandson, he
chuckled, and then looked over at Josh, who was watching with wrapt attention.
And I hope not the last.
That was their first meeting, and from that a bond existed between Noah and the President that did not exist with the other children. Maybe because he was the only Lyman child born when the President was still in office, though then only for a few months. No, they didn’t know the
reason, but of all the Lyman brood, Noah most belonged to Jed.
If Noah was asked about his most memorable time spent with Josiah Bartlet, out of thirteen years of memories, Donna knew what he would speak about. When Noah was eight years old, Jed had taught him how to play chess.
There was a mass reunion going on at the farm in Manchester. How it housed CJ, Toby, Sam, Ainsley, Leo, Josh, Donna, their four children, as well as all the Bartlets (Charlie included), Donna would never understand.
It was the middle of the summer. The adults were enjoying each other’s company; they went far too long in seeing each other for any of them to be truly happy. They were talking about old times, old jokes, enemies and friends. Tiny two-year-old Annabella Joan was happily toddling around the garden where they all sat. Luke, who was four and a half, was watching all the adults intently, a frown on his face, as if he was following their conversation with the greatest of interest. Kitty, already the sweetheart at five years old, was regaling Abbey and Zoey with tales of her adventures in kindergarten as she coloured in the book that her parents had bought to keep her occupied.
Noah was bored. He was seven and didn’t want to spend all day listening to boring grown up
conversations. He wanted to have fun – it was a really nice day. He wanted to play something. Noah? You lost? He recognised the voice, and as it spoke it snapped him out of his reverie, and he realised he had wandered into the house.
Jed walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Noah looked up at him with the large oceanic eyes that he shared with his mother and his baby sister. No, just wasn’t really paying attention to where I was going. I He paused for a moment, but couldn’t help being honest. Grandpa Jed, it’s boring outside! he complained.
This gained him an impish smile from the man that had just passed sixty. You want to come play with me? Jed’s voice was mischievous, which sparked interest in the young boy.
Jed put his other hand on Noah’s shoulders, and led him into the library. Sitting on the wooden table was a gleaming chess set, already set up, waiting for someone to play. You know how to play chess Noah? This was met with a shake of the head. Jed feigned shock. Seven years old and you don’t know how to play chess?
He sat down at the table and indicated the seat opposite him. I guess I’ll just have to teach you then. He picked up two of the pieces and held them behind his back. Then he held two clenched fists out to Noah. Noah tapped the right one, and Jed opened it, and settled there was the white queen. Good choice.
Noah grinned; he looked up so expectantly, so excitedly that Jed felt excited for him. He pointed at the different pieces and told Noah what each of them could do. Noah took it all in and only asked him to repeat it a couple times. Then they began to play. A couple times Jed had to correct Noah for moving his rook diagonally, or for moving his king more than one place at a time, but after about an hour, Noah was playing with increasing proficiency.
They played five games before: Checkmate, Noah’s voice was clear, confident and bursting with pride as he got the former President’s king in its final check. Jed was bursting with pride himself, Noah was the youngest person he had taught to play chess; his girls hadn’t been interested until they were in their teens.
Jed held his hand out to Noah, who grasped it and shook it after a moment of shock. Good game, Jed smiled, and Noah smiled back at him.
Can we play again? he asked, and Jed was about to agree when he looked at the clock that ticked on the wall. We better go outside and find the rest of the party, he admitted, or your Mom and Abbey are going to come looking for us.
Jed followed Noah out with his hands on his shoulders. Noah tipped his head back and looked up at his honorary grandfather. Grandpa Jed? We’ll play again sometime right?
Jed smiled, and leaned down to kiss the young boy on the top of the hair. Of course we’ll play again, he promised as they continued to walk outside.
Any time you like.
*
Donna wished her children were young enough to just brush over the truth now. But she knew that they weren’t. They were she and Josh’s children; of course they were going to be smarter than average children their age.
Leo was in the kitchen on his cell phone, yelling at someone who would not help him. He had been talking to Al Caldwell again, who had given him some people to call. Leo was working his way through the list he had been given, and had removed himself to the kitchen so Donna would not have
to hear him in his harshest political manoeuvring.
She was pacing the living room for what must have been the fiftieth time in the last twenty minutes when the phone rang again. She thought it might be CJ again, but the digital display taught her differently. This was to be the most difficult conversation of the day so far.
"Mom?" It was Kitty’s voice, shaky and tearful. Donna could hear Noah in the background, his
voice sounding as though he was trying to be calm and comforting to his younger sister.
Donna almost didn’t want to reply. She didn’t want to have to be the grown up. "Kitty, sweetie, you okay?" She tried to keep her voice as calm as possible, she had to be the one to ground and soothe her children.
Kitty hiccupped. "Mom, what’s going on? I just saw – News Report. Mom? Is Daddy-?" Her sentences were detached and she her words jumpy. Donna hated hearing her little girl like that.
This was not Kitty being melodramatic. She was not acting at all; these emotions were real.
Donna felt her resolve start to crumble. She clenched her fist at her side and held the phone so tight that she thought her fingers must have been white. "Katerina Delores Lyman you listen to me. Everything’s going to be all right." Her voice sounded so certain, that at that moment, she almost believed it.
*
Kitty was nothing if she wasn’t punctual. Expected just before Christmas, that was when she arrived, on the cold icy day 17th of December, a day which had Donna warning Josh to
watch for ice as he drove her to the hospital.
They had left Noah with Josh’s mother at their house in Hartford. Martha Lyman had been staying with them in Connecticut the last few weeks before Kitty was born to help look after just turned two-year-old Noah, as he was a handful and Donna hadn’t been feeling so good.
Noah wasn’t convinced that he wanted a younger sibling; his lack of ability to form complete sentences did not hinder his ability to get this message across. He liked having his Mommy and Daddy to himself; he liked it a lot, and didn’t want some baby crowding his space.
Still, when Josh phoned his mother some time after leaving the house to announce, It’s a girl. Katerina Delores weighs in at 6 pounds 3 ounces. Donna’s doing fine, Noah had to admit to his curiosity about the new addition.
He was allowed to see Kitty the day after she was born. He relished seeing his mother, who he had missed, and who had missed him. She smothered him with hugs and kisses as though she had not seen him in months, but it was as his father entered with a squalling bundle of pink blanket that
his curiosity was peaked.
This is your new sister, his father told him. She’s called Katerina.
Noah looked upon the pink-faced baby with the head full of golden curls and tried to repeat the name, but frustrated himself after a few failed attempts. His jutting lip and frown did not go unnoticed by his mother.
How about Kitty? she suggested, and when Noah tried it, he found his mouth could form the word with no problem.
He looked into the blanket at his sister, who was making a great deal of noise. He put his finger to his lips. Ssshhhh, he instructed, and like magic, she did.
Donna and Josh looked at each other and grinned. She knows who her big brother is, Josh joked, and Donna wrapped her arms around the small boy.
You just make sure you look after her.
*
Kitty’s breath was raspy, it sounded like she was choking, but Donna was reassured by Noah’s voice murmuring in the background. "But Mom, they said - they said there were guns…" Kitty had, as all her siblings, been told about the shooting in Rosslyn as soon as they were old enough to
understand. It had affected them all in different ways. For Kitty, it had resulted in a total fear of her own safety when it came to guns.
Donna understood this. She had been the one that had soothed Kitty back to sleep after nightmares of gunshots; nightmares that Donna thought would stop with her husband. Of all the things Kitty could have inherited, Donna was most worried that Kitty’s future would turn out in a
similar way to Josh’s past. "Kitty. I won’t lie - there were gunshots. We’re not sure what’s
happening yet…" she tried to carry on, but Kitty had once again dissolved in tears. She was obviously talking to Noah; Donna could only make out a few words through her sobs.
Before Donna could panic, Noah took the phone from his sister’s hand.
"Mom?" His voice was calmer, though he still sounded more shaken then normal. He was searching for answers as desperately as his sister was.
"Mom, what’s going on? Kitty came and found me, she was in tears, I don’t know what’s going on. Mom, she said something about Dad, about guns." There was fear in him too, from seeing the scars on his father’s chest. They carried that burden as a family. It had taught them to relish their time together.
Noah, at thirteen, was trying to be a man. If anything had happened to Josh he would be that man of the house. He was having a hard time holding his sister together; he couldn’t be expected to hold together a whole family.
"Noah, I won’t lie to you." She wouldn’t, she promised herself. "There’s been a shooting at the Senate. Your Dad and Uncle Sam are there. I don’t know if anything’s happened to them."
Noah was silent for a moment. He seemed to be processing the information. "So what do we do next?" His planning and strategising was something he had inherited from both his parents. "Where do we go from here?"
Donna sighed, finally, a simple question that she could answer. "Leo’s calling some people, he’s trying to find out a little more about the situation. Other then that we wait." It was
straightforward. It was simple.
There was a silence in which Noah seemed to be relaying the message to his sister. Then Donna had Kitty back on the phone.
"Why would people want to do this to us Mom?" she asked still tearful, and it was the same question that Donna had been asking herself since this had all started. "What did Daddy and Uncle
Sam do to them?"
Donna could feel anger creeping in, pushing away the sadness and anguish that she had been feeling the rest of the morning. She wasn’t angry with her child, not that. She was angry that someone had put her in the position where she had to have this conversation with her child. "Daddy and Uncle Sam didn’t do anything. These people are just hateful Kitty, and we got caught up in it."
Kitty seemed to ponder this; her sniffles seemed to subside momentarily.
"I want to come home Mommy," she said, and Donna could not refuse her.
Donna closed her eyes. "You and Noah come home then. We’ll discuss this more when you get here."
She was about to hang up the phone when she heard Kitty in a small voice ask, "We’re still the good guys, aren’t we Mom?"
At this, Donna smiled her first real smile in what seemed like days. For Kitty the whole situation was so simple, and right then, the answer to her question was too. "We’re still the good guys Kitty."
*
It seemed, as Noah belonged to Jed, that Kitty would belong to Abbey. It had never been planned that way; it had simply happened.
Whenever the Lyman’s made it up to the Manchester Farm, Jed and Abbey always took control of the children. It had been so long since they were around little kids; Annie was an only child, and quite grown up now at nearly 25, and neither Zoey or Ellie had gotten to the point in their lives of settling down and having children yet.
So Jed and Abbey doted on Noah, Kitty, and the newest addition to the Lyman troop, little Luke, who was as quiet and shy as Kitty was extrovert and sociable. True, he was only two years old, but it was obvious already that he was going to be of subdued character. No one knew who he had
inherited that particular trait from, they joked that he must have been switched at birth, and maybe they would have believed that if he hadn’t had Josh’s eyes, and his hair, and been a spitting image of Josh’s father, his brother’s namesake.
The Lyman family visited the Manchester Farm for Luke’s second birthday. It was very cold still, though luckily dry, and the kids could run around outside, as long as they were bundled up. Noah, who had turned five in the September before, was happy scaring the ducks from their pond. Josh wandered around outside watching him, and at the same time catching up with Sam, who had made a surprise visit to join them that weekend.
Donna was inside, in the study, having a lengthy discussion with Jed about what Noah had learned in kindergarten, and what he should know to go into the first grade the next autumn. Noah
should have had to wait to go to the first grade another year, but Josh and Donna had insisted that he was too bright to stay in nursery, and so had put him in kindergarten a year early the autumn before. She was telling Jed that Noah could spell his whole name, while Luke studied them silently and played with the board book that Donna had given him.
Kitty found herself in the lounge with Abbey. Abbey turned the fire on and gathered the little girl in her arms. Kitty giggled and wriggled as Abbey tickled her. Gamma Abbey! No! She was laughing though, her little blonde halo of curls bouncing around her head and her chocolate eyes shimmering with mirth.
Abbey stopped and they sat together on the couch surrounded by comfy cushions as they watched the flames flicker and the light dance across the walls. Kitty leaned her head on her honorary grandmother’s shoulder. Kitty loved Abbey better then her other two grandmothers. She knew she shouldn’t, she should love them all the same, but she didn’t see her other grandmothers as much, and they weren’t as fun. Abbey had a farm, she had animals and a pond, and she always let them have cookies and run around.
Abbey turned to Kitty, a warm smile on her face. Do you like coming to visit us here Kitty? she asked, and Kitty nodded emphatically.
I like it best, she said, conveying love and affection in her three-year-old speech, coupled with a big kiss on the cheek. It’s fun to come visit.
Abbey smiled, though she looked over Kitty’s head to the door outside. Kitty, do you love your brothers? Kitty nodded, though she was confused.
She opened her mouth to explain. God says we should love our brothers and our mommies and our daddies. She smiled at her recitation.
Abbey grinned too. Grandpa Jed would be glad to hear you say that.
Jed and Abbey had always been concerned that the children weren’t being brought up in any faith, but Donna and Josh always countered that they told their children what they needed to know.
Only now did Abbey understand what they meant when they said that.
Abbey then remembered why she was here, why she was having this talk with the little girl, what she had been roped into by a sheepish looking Josh and Donna. Abbey looped her arms around the little girl. Kitty, I know you love Noah and Luke, but how would you feel if you had a new brother, or a sister as well as your brothers?
Kitty looked at her strangely for a moment. Her little brow was furrowed and Abbey wasn’t sure whether she looked angry or deep in thought. I think I’d rather have a kitten, Kitty
admitted, which made Abbey laugh.
Well, she had tried the diplomatic route; it was time for brutal honesty. Kitty, you’re going to have a new brother or sister in the summer.
Kitty’s face was still contorted. She twirled a piece of hair around her finger. Okay. Her voice was quiet as she hopped down off the sofa.
Okay? Abbey was surprised that she was taking it so well; she remembered what Elizabeth and Ellie had been like when they found out about Zoey.
Kitty continued through the house. Abbey caught up with her and took her by the hand. Sure, Kitty told her, looking up, her eyes glittering orbs. But can I still have a kitten?
Abbey’s laughter could be heard all the way down the hall. If this was what Josh and Donna created in their children, then Abbey hoped that they didn’t stop with the fourth.
*
"We’ll be home as quickly as we can." Noah had taken the phone back from his sister. His voice was quiet and sombre. "We love you Mom."
She hung up the phone and walked into the kitchen. Leo was still in there, though he had finished his conversation, and was sitting with his head in his hands. "Not going well?" she asked, casually, even though that was the last thing the situation called for.
Leo looked up at her. "I have no idea. No one seems to have a clue, I mean, I’ve tried calling in favours from reputable sources, but no one seems to have a clue."
Donna sat down in the chair opposite him after getting them both a Sprite from the refrigerator. "Have you tried calling Danny?" she asked, naming their old friend and sometimes
adversary. He wouldn’t deny them knowledge if he had it, not when it was to do with Josh. He wasn’t that type of reporter.
Leo smiled his crooked smile. "He was my third call after Al and Mallory. He’s in the same position as we are; he’s been calling people all morning and getting nothing. He promised to call if he found anything out, but it seems we’re being met with a communications barrier."
Donna listened and nodded to show her understanding. Taking a sip of her soda, she asked him, "Is Mallory okay?" She hadn’t seen Mallory for a while, a shame as she and Josh were like brother and sister growing up and they lived in the same city. Still, they were both busy with families now. Mallory had two children of her own, Harry and Sammie, and was still teaching.
Leo shrugged his shoulders, looking forlorn. "She’s been watching the news too. She’s worried sick, I mean, with Josh there, and her and Sam are still friends, and she knows a lot of the other people working there. She wants me to keep her in the loop."
It seemed that more and more people were becoming worried, and Donna was almost pleased that she wasn’t alone in her desperation, though she did feel as though no one else quite knew what she was going through, that her specific pain was her own and could not be shared by anyone.
They had silently agreed that Leo would handle their friends and family being informed whatever happened, when the phone rang again. Donna couldn’t remember a morning when they had gotten this many calls, even with Josh having the high power job that he had. Even when they had still been in
the White House.
Donna looked at the phone for a minute. She didn’t want to pick up, she wasn’t sure she could. Instead, Leo picked it up. As soon as the person on the other end spoke, he looked at Donna and nodded. He told the person to hang on, and held out the phone to her.
"It’s Luke," he explained, and his voice was so, so quiet. He couldn’t imagine how she coping with this day, how she was coping with having these conversations with her ten and eleven and thirteen year olds.
Still, she did it. She held the phone to her ear and rested her head in her palm. "Luke? You’ve seen the News?"
His voice was small on the other end. "I got a news report on my email. I checked it in the library at lunch. Mom? Are you okay?"
It was typical that it would be Luke that asked about how she was. She didn’t want to cry, she hadn’t meant to, she had wanted to be strong, but as she answered him more tears ran down her cheeks. They were tears of frustration, of anger and of over whelming fear.
Still, she lied in her answer. He was only ten. "I’m okay Luke. Leo’s here with me and Noah and Kitty are on their way home. Leo and I have been calling some people to find out what’s happening."
Luke was quiet for a long time before he spoke again. "I bet Kitty’s pretty scared," he guessed, "CNN.com said there had been gunshots."
Donna was not surprised by how intuitive he was. "Yeah, she’s scared, but she’s with your
brother." She stopped her talking and suddenly was met with a thought. "Is AJ with you?"
"No." Luke’s answer was simple, but he expanded. "She’s still in the library checking the other news sights. She said there was no point her coming with me to call." They all knew that AJ hated using the phone. "I’m going to go find her when we’re done, fill her in."
Donna was astounded by just how calm he sounded, she wasn’t sure how he did it. "Is she okay? Are you?" She asked because she was their mother, and she knew that the calm was mostly an act, even from their stoic Luke.
She could tell, because he hesitated before answering. "We’re alright. AJ’s pretty shaken. She’s doing that thing where she has to do something or she’ll go crazy. She can’t sit still." There was a little teasing tone in his voice, lightly mocking his sister, in good humour.
He had always been the one that could tell how his siblings were feeling, just by the way that they smiled or stood, or from what they were wearing or what they chose to do with themselves. He watched, just everything, he knew and understood what seemed like far too much for a boy his age.
Donna knew he could read her like a book. "Everything’s going to be okay," she said, but she was much less sure saying it to him then she had been to Kitty. There was something about him; that he would know that she wasn’t sure, he would know that it might not be okay.
"I’ll bring her home," he said, and Donna was eternally grateful for his understanding. She needed her family with her; she needed them to be together, what ever was about to happen.
Donna sighed, slight relief, the most she would receive for a while. "I love you, both of you. You tell AJ that okay?" It was all she could say, but the message was there, hidden and infolded, and received loud and clear.
Luke’s voice held a smile. "We’ll be home soon." His promise was so steadfast she couldn’t help but trust in him, even though he was only ten.
They finished their conversation and Luke went to find his sister.
His mother sat in the kitchen, barely pacified, but glad that she was about to have her children all back under her watchful eye. With Josh out of her ability to keep safe right now, she was glad to at least have the kids returning to where she could know that they were all out of harm's way, because they meant more to her then anything else in the world. From before their first breaths she and Josh had loved them with all their hearts.
Josh had to come home. He just had to. He had to see his children graduate. He had been goading them all since they went to kindergarten that they would all be Ivy Leaguers, it wasn’t
possible for her to imagine a future where he might not see that.
*
Luke had been silent for a year. His first birthday was spent with his family all trying to coax him to speak. Sure, he had made sounds, but he hadn’t yet mastered true words or labels.
Bouncing Luke on his lap, wearing a faded pair of jeans and a worn sweatshirt from his college days, Josh pointed at Luke’s brother and sister, who were sat on the floor colouring, swapping crayons and occasionally bickering. See Luke? That’s Noah, No-ah. Can you say that? Or that’s Kitty? Kit-tee, see?
Josh had been doing this all week, carrying Luke around and naming things around the house, hoping that Luke would get the idea as they went along. Still, it all seemed in vain. Luke just looked at his father with his large soulful eyes and frowned, as if questioning why his father was telling him the names of his brother and sister. He had lived with them for a whole year hadn’t he?
Donna watched this from the kitchen while she made their lunch. She couldn’t help but laugh, Josh was trying so hard, and getting so frustrated. Kitty and Noah had both said their first words before their first birthdays, and Josh was worried that Luke might be slower then the other children.
Both Donna and Leo had told him that Luke was probably just shy, or quiet, and that there was nothing wrong with him not speaking, and that Josh needed to calm down. Donna had kissed him on the nose and called him an overprotective parent, but he had brushed her off and pretended to pout until they had both ended up laughing at each other.
As Donna ended the room, Josh pointed at her. See Luke, that’s Mommy. Mom-me. He gave her a big grin to show that he hadn’t given up on his son yet, and she shook her head at him and laughed.
Instead of responding, she tapped her two other children on the heads. Lunch time guys, up at the table. She grabbed two-year-old Kitty and swung her into the air, and four year old Noah ran behind. No running in the house Noah! Donna commanded as she settled the middle child into her booster seat. Kitty straight away grabbed at the olives on her plate and began
munching away happily.
Noah sat in his chair and started ripping his sandwich into strips, as he always did. It was an odd habit, but it didn’t hurt anything, so Donna and Josh let him eat how he wanted to eat. He stacked them up, and ate his carrot sticks first before starting on his sandwich.
Josh ate with Luke on his lap. Donna offered to take him so that her husband could eat, but he had waved her off with a smile and an order to Sit down and eat woman.
Donna helped Kitty with her sandwich; simple meals being something that she remembered from a distant past, having three children under five. Not that she was unhappy; she couldn’t have
been that if she had tried. She had three happy and healthy children, and a husband who she loved with all her heart as well as wonderful friends and a bright looking future.
Josh and Donna smiled at each other from across the table, revelling in that which they had created. Luke looked up at his father and then at his mother, and he smiled too. Donna noticed this, and she laughed.
You were worried he was going to be slow? Josh, he knows exactly what’s going on, all of it! He’s just not ready to talk about it yet.
They laughed together, leaving their other two children unaware and playing with their wholemeal bread, and in that moment, both knew Donna’s statement to be true. For the next few weeks they paid attention to Luke and realised how much he seemed to take in of his surroundings. When Jed and Abbey and the ex Senior Staffers visited for the weekend, Jed declared that the child had an old soul, and that he was probably smarter that all of them in the room put together. Toby argued that that probably wasn’t hard, but, after everyone had finished chuckling at his or her self-deprecation, he revealed his agreement.
He’s going to be something special, he said to Donna later as she helped him get his coat, and you know it pains me to say it about any of Josh’s offspring, but they all are. You two have managed to create three wonderful children Donna. He said it with such sincerity, and with such open hearted honesty, and with a look on his face that let her know that it was almost paining him to say such nice things, that she knew they had to be true.
Tears welled in her eyes almost instantly. Thank you, she managed, kissing him on the cheek.
He brushed her off and tried hard not to look at her. You know, if you ever tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it, he joked.
Still, she smiled, I know, I won’t tell anyone. They had kept secrets before, between the two of them. They were friends; it was how they communicated. He had seen her weakened and breaking down, and she had seen him humbled and lost and so deeply in love that he couldn’t
see. She had kept his secrets before, and would continue to keep them.
He had left that night. They had all left, leaving Josh and Donna to put the three children to bed. Kitty had been sound asleep before her head ever hit the pillow and Noah was not far behind her. It was Luke that sat in his crib and watched as his parents wandered around his room, putting all his things away. His large brown eyes were open and searching, and it seemed as though he would never sleep.
It was three in the morning when Josh was woken by sound over the baby monitor. It took him a few minutes to realise what he was hearing. Luke up! Luke up!
For a moment Josh thought that Kitty had snuck into her brother’s room, but when he got up and crept across the hall, trying not to wake Donna, he only found Luke sitting in his cot, staring at the door. At first Josh was confused, but all mystification evaporated when Luke held his arms in the air and repeated his mantra: Luke up!
Josh couldn’t help but laugh as he picked up his youngest son. Making his way downstairs he considered things for a moment, and after sitting in the arm chair and turning C-SPAN on low he spoke to his son.
He pointed to the television, which showed a picture of the Capital building, and then the White House. See that Luke? Josh asked. That’s your future.
*
Donna was standing in front of the mantle place, and wondered when she had become such a cliché. She ran her fingers over the pictures that sat there. There was her and Josh on their wedding day, smiling and wrapped up in each other’s arms. There was Kitty at her first dance recital in a lavender leotard and wearing a top hat and tap shoes. There was Noah with in his
baseball uniform, standing next to Josh who was grinning like a Cheshire cat. It had been taken when Noah was eight after he had hit his first homerun. There was a picture of Luke sitting at the computer with his little sister on his lap, and AJ was moving her hands in some forgotten conversation.
She stopped to study the picture of all six of them that had been taken on AJ’s birthday that year. They had gone up to the Manchester farm, as it had coincided with a visit from Sam, Toby and CJ.
The six of them were sitting on the porch swing, Josh and Donna in the middle, Noah on Donna’s left and Kitty sitting on the floor by his feet. Luke was on his father’s right, and AJ was sitting on her father’s lap. They were all grinning stupidly, the sun on their faces and looking happy and relaxed.
Would they ever get back to that place? Would they be able to look that happy again? Donna wondered if she would ever smile again, she didn’t feel like she may.
She heard the phone go off in the background. She couldn’t bear to talk to another person - she simply couldn’t bare it. She felt Leo come into the room and listened to him talking. It only took a few seconds for her to realise that he was talking to Toby. Who sounded angry.
"Toby, stop. I know what you’re saying, Toby, I know. I’ve tried. Toby?" he trailed off, seemingly realising that letting the man rant would be easier then trying to stop him.
Instead, Leo set the phone onto speakerphone, before sitting down wearily in a chair, dragging a hand over his haggard face. Toby’s voice blared out over the phone.
"Honestly Leo, I can’t believe this shit." His voice was strained a little, and because Donna and Leo knew him well, they knew that he was feeling desperate and powerless, and not coping well with it.
Donna continued to look at the pictures and listened to the conversation in the background. It made her comfortable to know that Toby was feeling as angry and scared and outraged as she was.
"Is Donna there?" his voice was quiet now, and the worry was back, the anger had dissipated.
Leo’s eyes were on her, she could feel them even though she was not looking at him. "Yeah, she’s here. She’s okay." He answered the question that Toby had not asked, though wanted the answer to.
Toby sounded exhausted. "I don’t understand this Leo. I don’t understand how this could have happened. We have to fix this Leo."
"We’re trying," he sighed, though he knew that he had no control over what was going on. He hated himself for his lack of control.
Both men were silent for a second. Donna heard their breathing in and out, in and out. A rhythm that she just wished would stop.
Toby was the first one to speak. "We have to get them out Leo. Josh and Sam, they’ve got too much to live for." Toby did not know that he was on speakerphone; Donna had been totally silent.
Leo nodded his head; Donna had turned enough to see him out of the corner of eye. "I know Toby, you think I don’t know?"
"I’m going to kill them, the people that did this. I swear to God Leo if anything happens…." He didn’t have to explain what he meant by that. They all knew what he meant because they were all thinking the same thing. "You know, tonight, Sam was going to…"
"I know." There were no secrets between them. They were family.
"He’s waited so damn long, I almost thought he was doing a Josh." Here Toby inserted a bitter laugh. It made Donna almost flinch. "It isn’t meant to happen this way Leo, it just isn’t." Sam and Josh were the youngest of all of them. They were meant to live the longest, years longer then anyone else. They had so much to live for. If anything happened…
"I’m going to kill them Leo, the people who did this, who put us all through this again, if anything has happened, I’m going to kill them with my bare hands."
Leo chuckled at this, softly, darkly. "Vengeance isn’t Jewish Toby," he reminded, a slathering of mocking in his tone.
Toby did not share in his joke.
"But sometimes a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do to protect the people he cares about Leo. Everything else is just crap."
*
Donna was shocked beyond belief when she was called to go and pick Luke up from school, because he had apparently been fighting. She couldn’t believe that Luke, who was usually composed and always passive, could have been involved in a fight.
She walked into the headmaster’s office and became even more upset because Luke was sitting with a tissue clutched to his nose and a split lip. And he looked furious.
The headmaster began speaking to Donna. Mrs Lyman, I’m sorry we had to call you in this afternoon. He certainly didn’t look sorry.
Donna sat down next to Luke, but he would not look her in the eye. He was staring at his trainers, holding his glasses in his hand. They looked a little twisted, and he was squinting a little without them.
I understand, Donna answered still looking at her son. Could you explain to me what happened please? She was trying to remain civil, but she felt as though she was failing rapidly. She had never been called into the headmaster’s office for Luke before, neither for Kitty. She had once when Noah was failing math, and when AJ started school and they were worried about how she would fit in with her ‘disability’. They had informed the teacher that she could get on quite fine, thank you very much. But she had never expected to be called in for Luke; he wasn’t like that.
Luke was involved in a fight at recess with another boy in his grade. Jared Parsons. His parents picked him up earlier. They’ve taken him to the hospital; they suspect he might have a broken nose.
Donna was shocked that Luke would even be able to break someone’s nose. When she looked at him he was staring at his hands and flexing his fingers.
Luke, what happened? she asked, but he didn’t answer her. He simply shrugged, still staring at the floor. Luke?
She realised trying to talk to him now would have been in vain. She simply smiled at the headmaster. Thank you Mr Montgomery. I’d like to take Luke home now, and discuss this with him and his father. Is it all right if we contact you with in the next few days?
Mr Montgomery nodded, his bald head glinting in the sun. How Donna wished that she could like him, but she couldn’t. She found that he was obnoxious and he didn’t like children very much.
Donna grabbed Luke by the sleeve and led him out to the car. She was severely angry with him, but was also worried because his actions were so out character.
He was silent all the way home and when got home he went straight to his room and shut the door. He stayed there all afternoon and into the evening, after the other kids came home and was still there when Josh returned from the Hill.
Donna grabbed her husband and sat him down at the kitchen table. There’s something going on with Luke, she told him. I had to go pick him up from school today; he broke another boy’s nose.
Josh did a double take when she said that. Luke? He was incredulous. You don’t mean Noah?
She shook her head. Can you talk to him? She leaned in until her forehead was touching
his. I don’t know what to do. This isn’t like him.
Josh nodded, kissing her on the tip of the nose. I’ll talk to him now. We’ll talk about this later. He stood up and headed up the stairs. I love you, he said, looking back down at her.
I love you too.
Josh reached the top of the stairs and knocked on Luke’s door. Luke? Josh pushed the door open. He found Luke sitting on the bed, a book in hand and his glasses on his face. They
were somewhat crooked.
Luke, buddy, what’s going on? Your Mom said you got in trouble at school today for fighting. He sat down on the end of the bed, and took the book out of Luke’s hands.
Luke looked up. Yeah, I did. He didn’t offer an explanation, so Josh knew he was going to have to push it.
Do you want to tell me what’s going on? He looked around Luke’s room. It was a mess; the floor was covered with folders and papers and books. His desk held another stack of books and a cornucopia of felt tips and biros and pencils. His quilt was thrown haphazardly on his bed, and the curtains were half drawn.
Luke kicked his shoes off, they hit the floor and one tumbled almost under the bed. He would be looking for that in the morning. Luke opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but then did not speak. He just shook his head. Nothing.
Josh studied his son; the bruised nose, the split lip. Josh took the glasses from his son’s face and bent them back into place. He handed them back to Luke, who put them on, but who still did not speak. Are you going to talk to me? he asked.
Luke hesitated for a minute, but shook his head.
Knowing Luke, Josh just shook his head. You think it over tonight, and we’ll talk about this in the morning. He leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, before standing up
and leaving the room.
That evening after all the kids had gone to bed, Josh and Donna were in bed trying to figure out what had gone on with Luke. They were just going to sleep when they heard someone creeping down the hall. Looking at each other with raised eyebrows, they crept out of their bedroom to the top of the stairs. Sitting on the kitchen were Luke and Noah, in flannel pyjama pants, glasses of milk in hand. Josh was about to say something when Donna grabbed his forearm and raised her finger to her lips.
Noah was rubbing at his eyes; his younger brother had obviously waked him. Luke, Noah questioned, what’s going on?
Luke looked at little jumpy; he wrung his hands in his lap. Noah, had any one ever called you a…you know...has anyone ever mocked you for being Jewish? His voice was quiet and
Noah seemed surprised by his words.
Donna looked at Josh, whose face had gone tight and pale. Donna slipped her hand into his and squeezed it lightly to calm him.
Noah drank some of his milk and looked at his younger brother. Is that what happened Luke? Today, with that Jared kid?
Luke nodded his head. Sort of. I don’t want to go into it. I just wanted to know, has it happened to you? He wanted his brother to understand, he didn’t want this to be just him.
Noah nodded. Once, but I didn’t understand what they meant when kids said it to me. He
was honest about it, which was a surprise. Maybe they had conversations like this much of the time when the rest of the house was asleep, Donna theorised.
Luke stood up; he seemed pacified for now. Okay. Noah stood up too and they headed towards the stairs.
Donna and Josh moved to their room quickly so the boys would not know that they had been eavesdropping. Climbing back into bed they looked at one another. I can’t believe that, Josh admitted. He raked his hands through his hair, looking guilty.
Donna leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. This isn’t your fault Josh. These things happen. She knew he wouldn’t believe it, but she knew she had to say in anyway.
He looked at her, a sad smile on his face, and kissed the top of her hair. I can’t talk to him about this, he admitted, feeling like a terrible father. She understood though. Some of these things were still too close; he couldn’t talk about it objectively.
Donna nodded, placing her hand on his chest, over where the scar lay under his t-shirt. I know, she told him. They all understand that.
Some one needs to talk to him Donna, he acknowledged, wrapping his arms around his wife.
She nodded into his chest. I’ll call Toby, she promised, before pulling him down, kissing his forehead and bidding him sleep.
Toby was visiting DC the next week, and agreed to meet and talk to Luke. They spent an afternoon walking along the Mall, and ended up sitting on the steps over looking the Reflecting
pool. Toby had a cup of coffee in his hand and Luke had a bottle of Evian.
Your Dad said you were getting in some trouble at school. Toby started off quietly, but went in directly. You want to talk about it?
Toby had said that when Josh and Donna had kids that he was never going to be dragged into their family crap, but somehow along the road and after many years of ‘Uncle Toby’ he had succumbed.
Luke took a sip of his drink and stared out over the water. I guess, he muttered, though not disagreeably. He didn’t talk for a second, he seemed to be mulling over his words. I got in a fight, he said, even though Donna had already filled Toby in.
Toby sipped at his coffee. What happened? His voice was soft, and his eyebrows slightly high on his brow.
There’s this guy in my grade, Luke started, Jared Parsons. He thinks he’s a real big shot because his father’s like a Colonel. But he’s not. He’s an idiot.
Luke’s voice was intense, which was unusual for a boy so serene.
Toby raised his chin and looked at the small dark haired boy whose eyes were screwed up behind his glasses. Why’s he an idiot? Toby asked, knowing that there had to be a good reason, because Luke wasn’t one for petty grudges.
He provoked me. Luke tried to explain, placing his bottle down next to him. He played dirty Uncle Toby. He went straight for the jugular.
Toby looked at him, automatically knowing what he meant. Your family? he asked, and Luke nodded.
I was in class the other day and AJ came in to give me a note. She wanted to talk to me quietly, so she signed. Luke dropped his voice and clenched his fists tightly. This
guy Jared must have been watching because later, at recess, he called me on it. Here his voice dropped so it was barely audible. He asked whether it was all kikes that were retarded or just my sister.
Toby felt something coil within him. The tension was radiating off of Luke, and Toby definitely felt his anger. So you hit him?
Luke nodded, though he did not look proud of himself. I didn’t even think about it, he admitted. I just acted. Just, hearing him say those things about AJ, I just got so mad, I just, I…
Toby placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. I understand Luke, he told him.
Luke seemed to relax a little. I didn’t mean to break his nose, he murmured. Though he did deserve it.
Toby squeezed his shoulder slightly. Fighting doesn’t solve anything Luke, he said, though some part of him, a small part, didn’t believe it.
Luke smirked, an act that seemed strange on him, so cold and sarcastic. He pulled his jacket around himself and played with his watch. Why did he say those things Uncle Toby? I had never done anything to him and he still attacked me like that.
At these words Toby felt complete and utter understanding. These were the questions that he had asked himself at Luke’s age, when he had been hit and spat at, and had anti-Semitic abuse yelled at him. I don’t know Luke, he answered honestly, because in all his years he hadn’t figured it out. Some people hate us just because of who we are and there’s nothing we can do to change that.
Luke leaned his head down and played with the laces on his shoes. I’m not even properly Jewish, he said, I mean, Mom’s a Presbyterian.
Toby smiled ironically. Does that matter? Does it really make a difference? He wanted to hear Luke’s honest opinion.
It came after a sigh. No, because I wouldn’t want to be called those things if I was properly Jewish. Because no one deserves to be attacked because of who they are. He was silent for a second. And they definitely don’t deserve attacks on their family.
He finished his water and held the bottle tightly in his hands. Toby stood up, and Luke looked up at him from where he sat. You’re right Luke, no one deserves that. But I think you understand how this works, how things are. You’re not stupid, you’ve read the books, your dad has explained these things to you.
Luke stood up and began to walk next to him. Do you mean the Nazis? His eyes were wide behind his glasses. His cheeks were picking up colour from the brisk wind.
They walked for a long time, without Toby answering Luke’s question, until they came to their destination. Luke looked up at the Holocaust Memorial and realised that Toby had answered him in the affirmative.
We fight for free speech Luke, and for freedom of association, and for religious freedom. You know why? He didn’t wait for an answer. It’s so this doesn’t happen again. He waved his arm at the memorial.
Kids died Luke, families – yours being one of them. They died for their faith, because of who they were. He stopped for a minute, thinking about what to say. He knew the truth was not what he should be telling; yet he found he could not lie. Not to this boy with his dark hair and coal coloured eyes and wounded heart from evil words.
They stood up for their faith, he said, and if fighting is the only way you know to protect your faith, and to protect your family, then you do that. You stand up for them. Do you know why?
Luke looked at him, and all of a sudden he wasn’t a nine-year-old boy. He was a man, he was a soldier, he was being persecuted and broken. All of a sudden Luke became the future to be moulded, and he knew the answer.
Because sometimes men have to do what men have to do. It wasn’t cheesy; it wasn’t a line, because he meant it with all of his being. Sometimes we have to protect the people we care about.
They walked back to the house with an understanding that ran deeper than it had before. Luke and Toby so far removed from one another, yet on the same page in way that should have been strange for a man over fifty and a boy not yet ten.
Luke never fought again. He would have, but the situation never arose. Instead he armed himself with knowledge, he studied the history of ‘his’ people, to understand it better.
If people ever made fun of his sister, they stopped doing it when he was around. When she was skipped ahead, they realised that she wasn’t stupid, in fact, that she was smarter then the most of them.
Luke watched out for his family still, especially AJ. She was the smallest, she warranted his
protection.
As Toby had taught him, there were things that men just did.
*
Leo was just about to start out on a rant of his own when he felt Donna tug at his arm, in the same way that his small grandchildren tugged at his hand when they wanted his attention.
Turning to her he realised that her eyes were bright, her face was ashen and she was pointing at the television set. ‘Breaking News’ scrawled across the bottom.
"I have to go Toby," he murmured, and Toby understood; the same message had just flashed up on his television. They muttered incomplete goodbyes and hung up.
Donna perched on the edge of the seat, not quite sitting, not quite standing. Her hand hovered about her mouth, and Leo wanted to go over to her, to hold her, but he wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t break if he tried. So for the moment he kept his distance.
The suited reported referred again to his youthful redheaded colleague. Her microphone shook in her hand as she gave her report.
"More shots were heard fired from inside the building a few seconds ago. There have been no demands released that we are aware of, though there seems to be a struggle taking place within the Capital Building. No casualties have yet been reported, no hostages have yet been released nor has anyone on the inside made contact with anyone on the outside."
Donna closed her eyes. "A struggle Leo?" She wanted to affirm that she had heard it correctly.
He nodded his head and took a step towards her, sitting on the coffee table, which he would have usually been reprimanded for. "It seems that way," he told her. "I would be surprised if it isn’t Josh and Sam themselves leading an uprising." He tried to joke, but the humour was lost on the fact that he was probably right. Sam and Josh were likely to put themselves in the line of fire to protect the other people there. They could be somewhat passive when it came to violence, but in moments when it mattered, they wouldn’t blink before putting themselves between others and harm.
She wanted to kick things, to scream at the top of her voice. Her hands were tense like she wanted to rip things, to tear and to hit and to take all her frustration out on she didn’t
know what. She wanted to smash things and break things and cut herself so that the horrible tension in her body would go away. She wished it would stop scratching, stop piercing and biting at her mind and her body and she wondered why all of a sudden she felt so drained like her legs and her arms and everything were made of rubber.
She dropped her head to her hands. There were no tears not now: they were done. Instead there was sickness, a nausea that built up so hard and so fast that she felt as though she was choking, she couldn’t breath, she was going to die without breath.
In a moment Leo was by her side and rubbing her back, whispering words in her ear that were supposed to be calming. She gulped at the air, though it made her light headed. She closed her eyes, squeezed them and wished for the first time ever that this wasn’t her life, that she could be someone else, just for a little while.
"Why the hell did this have to happen Leo?" she asked, she choked around mouthfuls of dry and bitter air. "What the hell did we do to deserve this?" Since she had married Josh she had prepared herself for becoming a widow before her time. They had talked about it; they had talked about it so, so much. It had never been like this, not when they imagined. This wasn’t a contingency that she understood.
She looked up at the man she loved like a father, who had known her over twenty years, and she pleaded. "I don’t want to be a widow today Leo."
He looked astounded, like he didn’t want to imagine the outcome any more than she did. He took her hand; he held it tight and bowed his head for a moment. Donna had never seen him pray before.
He lifted his head and he looked her in the eye. The waterless ocean betrayed a hope sinking
quickly, mercilessly. "You just stay strong okay? We’ll make it to the other side of this."
His promise was sweet, was heartfelt, but she was drowning quickly in her own ‘what ifs’.
"I’m not sure that I can," she admitted, feeling more selfish then she had in a long time, wanting him to hold her together. Not wanting to have to do it herself.
He seemed to know this; he smiled, crookedly. Squeezing her hand he assured, "Yeah, you can. You’ve just got to keep up the fight. You don’t let them beat you." His words had fighting spirit, like they used to when he was gearing up for a smack down. It was a tone Donna recognised from her husband, one that made her feel, in that second, attached to him.
"I’ll try," she swore, though she wasn’t promising Leo anymore. "I’ll try."
*
Donna remembered another time when she thought her sprit wouldn’t cope in the face of adversity, when she had feared not for herself but for something so much a part of her and so close to her heart. She hadn’t remembered the event particularly herself; pain numbing drugs and single-minded dread had driven her surroundings from her vision, from her perception. It was only a conversation with Sam, so many years later, which shed light of the happenings of that momentous summer night.
The youngest baby was due in the early part of August. With all the others having been so perfectly to time, they thought she would sleep peacefully till then. Shock and worry were the emotions of choice when the phone woke Sam at four in the morning on the 29th of May,
and Josh’s anxious, heart-wrenching voice met him when he picked up.
Sam? The word dripped with the fear of a man who had no control over what was going on, who knew no way to protect the people he loved.
Josh? Sam’s voice was thick and his mind was blurry. He had been asleep for a few hours, wrapped in the arms of the woman who he tried without success not to wake.
He could tell Josh was walking around; he banged into things, he swore, sometimes in English, and after a particularly loud crash, in Polish.
I’m taking Donna to the hospital. His voice was breathy, nervous. There was a sense of the underlying, the foreboding, the unsaid.
Sam was clear minded in an instant. He sat up and turned on his bedside lamp, almost blinding himself in the process. What are you talking about Josh? It’s May. He said it like
that made all the sense in the world, as though his words could change the situation; make everything better.
There was a sigh, a slight irritation. You don’t think I know that? He wasn’t really angry; he was frightened like he hadn’t been in a long time.
Sam scrubbed his face with his hand, and got out of bed, and began to pace. He felt the watchful sapphire gaze of his concerned bed partner; she brushed back her mussed fair hair, like
sheets of spun gold, and held out a hand to him: for comfort, for protection, or perhaps just to stop him walking.
Her small, eternally cool hand rubbed his back as he spoke. Do you need me to be there? he offered, because he knew the Josh would never ask.
A small voice answered; not the husband and father of three that Josh had been for many years, but rather the scared, mentally fractured man he had been so long ago. Yes, he admitted. There was a long pause in which neither man made sound, they simply thought over their situation, shared in each other’s uncertainties.
Sam heard the door opening, and footsteps, Josh having a muttered conversation with another person. Sam? Josh’s voice was back in his ear.
Yeah? He awaited his instructions, already calculating the time it would take for him to get to the airport, the plane ride to Connecticut, to Josh’s home.
Josh’s voice was slightly calmer. Leo’s here now. That explained why. He’s
going to stay with the kids for a while, until, until… He could not finish because he didn’t know what the outcome would be.
Sam began to pull on his clothes, scattered on the floor. I know. I’ll be there as soon as I can. He stopped, his sweater inside out in his hands. Tell Donna I love her, he requested, though his eyes were on the blonde in front of him. A look at her face let him know that she understood.
Josh seemed once again determined. I will. A silence, then, Pray, or something. I think we might need all the help we can get.
It was a strange request from Josh, a man who, although being a ‘man of God’ as Jed had described him, was of wavering faith. Still, it was an appeal, so Sam answered it. Of
course I will.
Sam heard another muttered conversation, less calm this time, and then Josh’s semi-frantic voice. I have to go now Sam, I’ll talk to you, I’ll…
His words, his voice failed him, but they had been friends so long that Sam could fill in the blanks. I’ll get the next plane; I’ll be there. Don’t worry, he added, even though he
knew there was no way that that was going to happen.
Josh laughed a little though. I think I have to. He sounded trapped, as though circumstances had him cornered. But I appreciate it.
See you in a few hours, was all Sam could add, before he hung up the phone. He stood topless in faded jeans and looked at the woman who still sat in his bed. She held out her arms to him and he fell into them. She kissed his shoulder and smoothed his hair.
Go, she told him, leaning over and handing him his glasses from the nightstand where they
lay. And call me when you know anything.
He pulled on his sweater and put on the socks that she handed him from who knows where. He was dressed when he finally stopped to take in the situation. His head dropped to his hands again, his eyes closed. She knelt in front of him in a t-shirt and tipped his chin to look her in the eyes.
I love you, she affirmed, only a delicate drawl left after years with him in the North. She kissed him hard on the mouth just to be doubly sure that there were no misunderstandings.
He smiled, kissing her back lightly, though no less lovingly. I’ll call you when I get there.
She stood up with him, wrapped her arms around him. Do.
After what seemed like the longest journey of his life, as all he had to do was sit and ponder the outcomes of the day, Sam arrived at Josh and Donna’s house in Connecticut. Leo was waiting for him, and brought him inside.
The kids were playing, albeit quietly. They had no real idea of what was happening, they were all too small to understand. They didn’t understand that their mother and the newest edition to their ranks might have been fighting for survival, fighting for life.
Leo went home that evening, after all the children had been put to bed. The day had been full of questions and tears because Noah, Kitty and Luke wanted their parents. Sam and Leo tried to reassure them, but their words were to no avail, the children fussed none the less.
The phone, as the night before, woke Sam from his dreamless sleep. This time, he was alone, dozing on the couch, and he was awake straight away.
Josh? Sam knew it would be him without a word being spoken.
Yeah. He sounded tired as he responded, he sounded weary. It’s a girl, he revealed, though with out the usual celebration of the sentence.
Sam wasn’t exactly sure what this meant. How’s Donna? he asked, because more than anything he wanted to know that she was all right, that she had made it through this relatively unscathed.
Josh’s voice picked up a little. She’s doing okay. She lost a lot of blood and there were some complications, but the doctors say she’s going to be fine. He sounded relieved, at least a little.
Sam, however, knew what Josh was avoiding, and therefore knew what he had to ask. How’s the little one? He wasn’t a father, but he knew how early these ten weeks were. How sick she may be.
Josh’s voice was air when he spoke, it was a breath and words were happen stance. She’s so tiny, he admitted. She’s not even three pounds. He took a breath, her figure swimming in front of his eyes. She’s not quite finished, the doctors say, and she’s having some trouble breathing. Quite a lot of trouble. They’ve put her in an incubator, under these lights because she’s a little yellow. It looks like an inquisition Sam, and she’s so small.
His voice cracked at this point, but Sam pretended not to notice. He left a minute for Josh to compose himself before asking, Have you named her yet?
It would be important to them, if anything was to happen, that she would have a name, she would be a whole person who had lived, no matter for how short a time. That was why he wasn’t surprised when Josh answered, Yes, we’re trying to find someone to baptise her, or something. There was always the problem with their multi-faith family. We’ve called her Annabella Joan.
Sam grinned, tried for levity. You can call her AJ, he suggested, then CJ wouldn’t be on her own in the initial name thing.
Josh tried to find the funny. Yeah, we can. He sighed; he hated the powerlessness of this situation. He hated that he couldn’t just protect his child, that he didn’t know how to fix her himself.
Sam stared ahead of him, into the darkened lounge that wasn’t his own and asked, So what happens now?
Josh, dealing with so much, fearing for his wife and his minute little girl answered him, I don’t know. I guess we just wait.
Wait they did, Sam at the house and Josh and Donna in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Donna thought this was even more depressing then the normal Intensive Care Unit, because all the patients were so very, very small and helpless. Annabella Joan was well off compared to some of them; she was one of the smallest, but all her internal organs seemed to be fully grown, if a little defective. One of the other babies in the room, whom his parents had called Rafe, had been born with his heart inside out.
AJ fit in the palm of her father’s hand, with the top of her head at his fingertips and her bottom on the heel. In the incubator she wore nothing but a fleece hat, so her head would
not get cold. Her eyelids were taped shut under the intensive anti-jaundice lights.
For when Josh and Donna could not see her, and because of the uncertainty of her future, a Polaroid had been taken of her in the first hours. In the picture her eyes were open, bright blue, and her skin a lucent sallow.
Josh called Sam and Leo often, his mother even more. She wished she could be with them, but a
broken ankle left her marooned in Florida.
He spoke to the children on the phone; Kitty wanted to know when she would be able to see her sister. He tried to explain, but he wasn’t sure how to put it into words that she would
understand.
Donna was still feeling weak, feeling drained. She stood vigil over her daughter most day
and night, willing her to be all right, to keep fighting, to make it through to the other side of this. AJ was a Lyman; she needed to invoke that fighting Lyman spirit, that ability to fight and to survive in even the bleakest of circumstances.
Josh stood behind his wife at one point, wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his hands on where their baby girl should have been ensconced for another couple months. Instead she
was on the outside, coughing and gasping for each and every breath she took.
The hardest thing was not touching Annabella Joan. Not being able to hold her or to rock her
and soothe her when she cried. And she did cry. It must have been painful for her; her lungs were straining so hard against her little emaciated ribs. She clenched her fists, flexed, though she
didn’t know what she was doing. As the days past the yellow faded, leaving a pale, translucent skin in its wake.
Days passed, weeks. Donna was let out of the hospital, so they went home; they relieved Sam of his babysitting duties. He said he didn’t mind staying, but they sent him home none the less, with promises to keep him updated.
They still visited the hospital every day. They couldn’t stand to leave her alone, in case anything was to happen. And even just because she was their little girl, and they didn’t want her to be lonely and abandoned in her little warmed incubator.
They bought the other children to visit her one day. Kitty had washed her hands fastidiously,
afraid of giving her small sister germs, of causing her more harm. When Kitty saw AJ’s tiny form in the box, she almost began to cry.
Is she okay Mommy? Isn’t she cold? It took Josh a long time to explain to Kitty that the incubator was heated, and that the baby was fine in just a nappy and a hat. It helped that the tape had been taken off of her eyes, that the harsh lights had been removed. Donna worried that the other children would be scared if the lights had remained, and she didn’t want them to fear their youngest member.
Noah was allowed to put his hands through the holes in the side of the incubator, and touch his baby sister’s head. He stroked it gently, afraid that she might break. He was fascinated by her tiny hands and feet, and by the little electrodes that were attached to her chest. She seemed a strange creature to him, something foreign and delicate, and so, so very precious.
Kitty didn’t want to touch her sister, she was happy just to look at her from her place clinging to her father’s side. She was still upset by her sister’s appearance; her lower lip trembled when AJ began to cry. It sounded such a pitiful noise.
Luke studied the wailing form of his sister. He was only two and a half years old, but it was a memory that he would carry for the rest of his life. She was all screwed up; her face and her hands, and she kept her legs tucked tight to her body. Her head looked large in comparison to the rest of her body, and on her face, her eyes were bright. She breathed as fast as a hummingbird; chest rose, chest fell. Each of her tiny fingernails left biting marks on the inside of her palm when she relaxed her fist, which must have hurt, though the pain seemed to be so much, so over whelming, that her hands didn’t even concern her.
Even at two, he shed tears for his sister. He wanted her to get better, to stop hurting, to stop crying. He wanted her to come home so they wouldn’t have to stay with babysitters every night, as their parents went to visit her. The baby comes home? he asked his mother, but she shook her head. He would remember always how in that moment he was terrified, because he had never before seen her look so sad.
She pulled him onto her lap, wrapped her arms around him and explained. Annabella Joan can’t come home yet. She’s still sick, so she has to stay in the hospital for a little while longer.
It was a while; another month before she was pronounced fit enough to be released. It was one of the happiest days of their lives, as a family, as their youngest was finally being returned
to them. Still, they had to watch and make sure her breathing was perfectly rhythmic. There were nights Josh and Donna didn’t sleep; they spent them by AJ’s crib, watching her chest rise and fall, imploring it not to stop.
After taking her home the first months were hell: nerves and tensions high, fearing every move AJ made, and every time she cried. It was a while before Josh and Donna could treat her like one of the other children, before they were calm enough to start believing that things were going to be all right.
It wasn’t until she was nearly eight months old that they realised there may be a problem with AJ. It was New Year’s Eve, and they all: Josh, Donna, Sam, Ainsley, CJ, Toby and Leo had gone to Manchester to celebrate together with the Bartlets. Beds had been set up for the kids in a couple of the rooms, where they slept soundly as it was getting on for midnight.
Champagne flowed as they counted down the minutes. CJ, already quite tipsy began to climb on the table, claiming she was going to do ‘The Jackal’ at midnight. Toby, who had been drinking scotch all night, began to laugh into his beard at the sight of her ungracefully clambering
on the ancient oak.
Donna, Ainsley and Abbey giggled mercilessly at her, as they hadn’t together in so, so long. They were squashed onto the couch, sipping wine from great goblets. Toby’s tumbler had not left his hand all night, it had simply varied between more and less empty. Sam and Josh drank beer, not too much; they were both in complete control of their senses, but they too laughed at the situation unfolding.
Jed wasn’t drinking; he had decided to pair himself with Leo, who was drinking soda, obviously. They were both quiet that night, surveying the scenes in front of them, basking in the pleasure of their flock reunited once again. Time and again their eyes met and they shared a smile. They had made the right choices all those years ago, to bring these people together.
Ainsley and Donna fussed with the CD player, trying to find the right track for CJ’s ‘piece de resistance’, but they kept collapsing on each other in giggles every few minutes. None of the men were quite sure what it was that caused the women, every time they drank together, to turn into hysterical juveniles.
As the seconds rapidly waned, and they came ever closer to the periphery of the year, CJ stood, wobbly yet masterful. She took a sip of her wine and cleared her throat as Ainsley gave her the thumbs up.
The clock began to chime as Donna pressed play, and the familiar sounds of Ronnie Jordan began to sweep through the room. CJ opened her mouth, right as an explosion of a firework went off in the lands close by. The unexpected noise caused CJ to start, and in her unsteady state stumble from the table. Luckily for her, Sam was in a position to grab her before she hit the floor, though they did both go tumbling into the cabinet, which caused it to shake and some of the pictures on top to topple off.
It was a thunderous cacophony of sound. CJ shrieked as she fell, the fireworks continued outside, and at some point Ainsley managed to drop her glass, causing a shattering to be mixed
into everything else. The CD was still playing.
As soon as it quietened, and someone had gotten to the stereo, the voices of the three oldest Lyman children could be heard from their rooms. Within seconds Noah was at the door of the room, his hair sticking up and his eyes heavy. Mommy? What’s all the bangs? Kitty
stood behind him, her hand clutching at the back of his pyjamas.
Donna sobered up immediately and she and Josh carried the children back to bed. They’re just fireworks, Josh explained, not wanting to reveal the calamity that had just occurred in the kitchen. It’s okay, they’re outside – remember like the fourth of July?
Kitty and Noah settled back into bed quickly. Luke, at nearly three, eyed his parents sceptically, not quite trusting that the noises would go away. It took nearly fifteen minutes of cajoling and hugs and kisses for him to go back to sleep.
Donna was just about to leave the room when she realised that AJ had been silent. When she peered into the crib, she found the little girl still sleeping softly. I can’t believe she didn’t wake up. Donna was incredulous.
Josh frowned a little. Maybe she didn’t hear it, he guessed, though that answer didn’t even convince him.
Donna stroked the little girl’s head; AJ stirred lightly but remained asleep. Josh, that noise was ear splitting. How could she not hear it?
Josh shrugged, though worry played in his eyes as a reflection of that in hers. The question remained with them all night, and into the next few months. They visited doctors and hospitals and specialists until they got their answer: AJ was deaf.
In the years that she grew up, it was found that AJ was not profoundly deaf, only partially deaf. Still, there were difficult decisions that Josh and Donna had to make. Would they teach her to lip-read or sign, or both? Would she go to the same elementary school as the rest of the children had, or would she go to special school?
Many of their questions were answered when AJ received her first set of hearing aids. Though she hated to wear them, and pulled them off whenever she could, they increased her level of auditory abilities to an extent that she could easily function within the hearing world.
She hated school at first; she would come home crying that the other kids made fun of her. It killed Josh and Donna to see their tiny girl with tears in her eyes, dripping down her cheeks, and her trembling bottom lip.
Why can’t I be like normal kids! I hate being deaf! AJ yelled down the stairs one day when she was six. She was already smarter then all of her peers in the first grade, and that caused them to pick on her even more. Naturally they latched on to that which made her different from them, and exploited it and expounded on it until she refused to go to school.
Donna and Josh were at a loss. They didn’t know how to comfort her. They had always tried to treat her the same as their other children, and her sister and brothers had never pulled any punches. To have this difference made so glaringly obvious was something that they didn’t know how to deal with.
Donna thought about going to AJ’s headmaster, The dreaded Mr Montgomery, and asking him to talk to the other students in her class, begging him to stop them teasing her beloved youngest.
Josh, however, had other ideas. He recognised and stated the fact that it was possible that AJ may be met with this kind of hostility at other times in her life, when he and Donna would not be able to step in and protect her. He suggested instead, that she needed a change in attitude. She needed to realise that yes, she was different, but it shouldn’t stop her doing what she wanted to do, and being all that she wanted to be.
Josh sat at the computer later that night, and composed an email that was difficult for him, because it was asking for help. The answer was back when he checked at seven the next morning: ‘I’ll be at CJ’s next week for her birthday. I’ll find AJ at the party, and we’ll talk. See you then, love Joey.’
The land of palms and sand and tans stretched in front of AJ as she surveyed the territory. CJ’s house was beautiful; she had a pool, though Josh had laughed at that when he had seen it. AJ wasn’t sure why.
The party was in full swing; there were so many people. Her parents had gone off to meet and chat with important people and with friends long missed, and her siblings too had disappeared, so AJ sat alone dangling her feet in the pool and sipping a coke.
She was staring out over the water when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned abruptly; she hadn’t heard anyone come up behind her, despite her synthetic audible range.
A man and woman stood together. She recognised them vaguely, as if she had met them before, but she couldn’t quite place the faces. The man wore a shirt and tie, and his brown hair was cut neat and short.
Annabella Joan Lyman? he asked, though his voice was at an oddly high pitch. His hands moved in patterns that AJ recognised, which caused her to look at the woman that stood to his right.
She was small, a lot shorter then the man, though much taller than AJ, who remained small for her age. She wore a sundress like most of the women there, in deep blue, and had perfectly coiffed hair, so straight bouncy, AJ noted, for she had always been disappointed by her own lifeless waves.
AJ nodded ascent to her name. Yeah, but everyone calls me AJ, she informed. She watched as the man’s hands flew, creating words and relaying her message to the petite blonde. The woman smiled, and pointed at the space next to AJ. Mind if I sit down? she asked, in her own voice this time. AJ was intrigued by the tone, by this woman, who kicked off her shoes and dangled her feet next to AJ’s.
The man sat down too, though he kept his feet out of the water.
The woman held her hand out to AJ. I’m Joey Lucas, she said herself, not wanting to repeat past mistakes. They shook hands, and then nodded her head at Kenny, who took the hint. He too held his hand out. I’m Kenny, Joey’s interpreter. His voice sounded strange talking for himself; it was lower, and a fraction less clear, faster than when he spoke for her.
AJ smiled at the both of them. How do you know Aunt CJ? she asked, having picked up the art of small talk in her youth. She studied how Joey split her attention between her and Kenny, an action that would have been rude if not for its necessity.
Joey smiled, looked at the small girl, and began moving her hands. We met a long time ago; we worked together a little when she worked at the White House. She didn’t explain how their
friendship formulated, over years and numbers and MS, and an email from CJ warning her about giving Josh too much information, and how easily confused he got.
AJ thought for a moment, her face screwed up in concentration. You must know my parents then, she guessed. Josh and Donna Lyman?
Joey and Kenny laughed together, though AJ didn’t get the joke. Yeah, I know them, Kenny related, a smile still on both of their faces. I’ve known them for a long time. Kenny and I
were at their wedding, she revealed.
AJ’s interest was peaked. Really? What was it like? She was extremely curious about what her parents were like before her and her siblings. The idea that they had lived another life was totally enthralling to her. Her eyes lit up, causing her to look so much like her mother, it made Joey nostalgic.
Beautiful, she told her honestly in her own voice, before letting Kenny relay the rest. It made a lot of people happy. They worried that your parents would never get married. There was a mischievous smile on her face; her crystal grey eyes gleamed.
AJ set her glass down and turned so she was facing them directly. Why? she asked, and for a moment Joey wasn’t sure how to answer her. How much was too much information for a just
turned seven year old?
She shared a look with Kenny for a moment, before signing, You’re parents were stupid at times, she explained, leaving it at that.
It seemed enough to satisfy AJ. She nodded, seemingly knowingly, even though she couldn’t understand what they were referring to.
Joey signed to Kenny for a moment, who nodded what seemed to be his understanding. AJ had not been watching their hands, and so did not know what he had just agreed to.
Is it okay if I let Kenny go on break for a moment? Joey signed through her interpreter. Do you know how to sign? She already knew the answer.
AJ nodded, but amended, Kind of.
Joey smiled, and nudged Kenny with her elbow. I’ll find you later, she said in her own voice, and he nodded and stood.
See you it a bit, he agreed, and AJ couldn’t help but notice the lingering smile on his face as he walked away, and the way that Joey watched him until he was out of range.
AJ smoothed her dress; the lavender cotton wrinkling as she manoeuvred to sit cross legged. Her hair spilled down her back, but was held back with silver barrettes. She had fussed over it, hating when her hair did not cover her ears, though now, talking to Joey, she didn’t mind so
much.
You really worked in the White House? AJ checked, though she stumbled over the sign for ‘White’. Joey understood though, AJ talked at the same time and Joey followed the question on her lips, as well as her hands.
Joey signed slowly, so AJ could follow. Yes, I really did. She too, spoke at the same time. Does that surprise you?
AJ thought about her answer for a moment, but answered honestly. Yes, it does. She wriggled her toes, cold now from being out of the water.
Joey frowned a little, though she didn’t seem mad. Because I’m deaf? she asked honestly, and AJ nodded, feeling terribly guilty.
For a moment she couldn’t look at Joey, she was afraid that she had offended her, and she wasn’t sure she could bear that. Sneaking a glance at her companion, she was relieved not to find anger, but rather a knowing smile. It surprised me too, Joey admitted. But I was really determined.
After a pause: Wasn’t it hard? AJ wasn’t sure that she was as strong as Joey; she wanted reassurance that it wasn’t as much of an uphill struggle as it seemed.
She didn’t get it. Yeah, it was hard. Joey was honest; there was no point in lying. But that made every victory sweeter. Joey’s eyes shone as the sun began to go down, a flaming phoenix falling to the ashes, only to be born again the next morning.
AJ drank in Joey’s words as a man in the desert drinks his first cup of water. Filled with inquisitiveness she kneeled up, sitting on her feet. The other kids in my class hate me because
I’m smarter than they are. She looked sheepish when she admitted that, not wanting to sound like she was bragging.
Joey simply smiled. That doesn’t surprise me. They hated me too. For a moment the taunts and the names flooded back to her, and she felt so insignificant, but then she looked around where she was and who she was, and thought about what she had done with her life, and she felt better again. You just have to be stronger then they are. You don’t let them get you down.
You walk around with your head held high and in the end you’ll come out on top.
Sounds hard, AJ admitted, sounding more than a little unsure.
Joey’s face was gentle, but she was ultimately straightforward. It is.
AJ bobbed her head, stared at her hands and wrists. She followed the path of her veins with her
eyes. Is it terrible to hate them? she asked, her voice barely sounding, though her hands moved slowly, deliberately, as if the very act of forming the words caused her pain.
Joey placed a hand on the younger girl’s shoulder. How well she knew that look, that feeling of
isolation. Wanting to hate everyone who looked at you because you weren’t like them. You hated it because you were worried they were right. It’s hard not to, she agreed, and AJ looked up, amazed that anyone would echo the sentiments in her head.
Joey, however, continued. There’s no point to it though, she added. They won’t care that you hate them, but you’ll feel awful for it. She knew the sensation well; drowning in
one’s own abhorrence, only to find that it was totally undisclosed, that no one ever even knew.
AJ felt the distain that had been pitted in her stomach for the longest time begin to disperse. She smiled openly at Joey, and after a moment, threw her arms around her. Joey laughed as AJ pulled back. What was that for? Joey knew the answer really, AJ was the daughter of Josh and Donna; it would be impossible for her to be a non-tactile person.
Thank you, AJ signed emphatically, bouncing on her knees, still barefoot though the evening was creeping in.
Joey pulled her feet out of the water; it had long since been too cold for comfort. Thank you for what? She knew somewhat, but she wanted to hear it from AJ, she wanted to know that she had been understood.
AJ grinned, milk teeth white and wobbly. Thank you for being like me. It was such a simple statement, but it was filled with all the feeling in the world from a girl who for so long had thought of herself as an oddity.
Joey wondered if AJ had noticed when she had stopped speaking, when her memory had kicked in and she had used simply her hands for communication.
Well, thank you, Joey said, as they both stood up, preparing to go inside and escape from the early night’s chill.
AJ looked at her, confusion evident on her face. She brushed off her dress and looked up at
the older woman, who wasn’t used to being looked up to.
Thank you for what? she echoed, watching Joey carefully.
They hadn’t realised that their conversation had gained a crowd. People at the party watching and wondering what they were talking about.
Joey chuckled; humour, mirth radiating from her. Her words were complemented with a sardonic
grin. Thank you for listening.
It was a joke, though it caused both of them to laugh much more then it should have, because it was so nice for both of them to be able to laugh with the other. For now on their difference,
that which made them special could be celebrated rather than reviled. Even if only for today, they were part of a secret society, and they could honestly say, the both of them, despite their
ages and differences, that it felt nice to belong.
*
Strength returned to Donna, slowly, gradually. She found herself not afraid to answer when
the phone rang again.
"Donna Moss?" It was almost as though the morning hadn’t happened.
The voice that answered only encouraged the strength spreading through her body, creeping through her veins as though the antidote to the disheartening poison that had previously invaded.
In acknowledgement of the voice, she placed the phone in its holder, switched it to speakerphone. It was heartening that instead of Toby’s angry baritone, she was met instead with the much more comforting sentence, "So, Josh has gone and gotten himself in trouble again,
has he?"
Donna couldn’t help but smile, which in turn made Leo smile because it made her look less like she was destructing on the inside. "Hi Jed," she acknowledged, though she still found it unnatural to refer to him by name, even after all these years.
The mocking was shelved for a moment of serious. "How are you doing?" His fatherly concern never waned, never faltered. She wondered if maybe one day he would run out, though it didn’t seem possible.
"I’m okay," she said, and it wasn’t totally a lie. "I think I’ve hit the acceptance stage of
whatever may be." This morning had been a roller coaster, but she felt anchored by his voice, she felt placated.
Abbey picked up the extension of their phone. "You’re not alone are you Donna?" she checked. She was once again a doctor, though she was never really not, and she knew what Donna’s state of mind must have been like. They had both played the waiting game before, and it concerned Abbey that this time Donna was playing it alone.
Donna shared a smile with Leo, who was sitting in the armchair, watching her as she spoke. He had been her lifeline today, she wondered if he knew that. He had held her together with simply the knowledge that he would be there, no matter what happened. "Leo’s here," she assured Abbey.
"I’m okay."
Everyone’s nerves were still on edge; it seemed a cycle of anxiety and pacification.
"Where are the kids?" Jed barely got the sentence out when the front door burst open, and a flurry of footsteps hurtled down the hall and into the room where Donna spoke to the ex-President and his wife.
Kitty ran immediately to her mother, and flung her arms around her neck. She still had her wool coat on, her curls were jumbled, and old tear tracks were unconcealed on her cheeks. "Mom." Her voice was breathy, strained, and it took a moment for Donna to pry her away. She smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead, whispered words of reassurance before moving on to the other children.
Noah stood in the corner, with Luke. They too had their coats on, but their cheeks had high colour, which let Donna know that they had run home, at least some of the way. She kissed them both, felt their hands that were freezing from walking in the October air, and thanked them quietly for watching after their sisters.
Lastly came AJ, who wanted hugs, which was unusual for normally such a daddy’s girl. Maybe it was that which caused her to seek her mother’s arms. She was quiet, none of the sobbing that still came from Kitty, but it was obvious that she was scared.
Donna sat down on the sofa, and pulled her youngest onto her lap, even though she had outgrown that years ago. Kitty snuggled in next to them, while the boys sat on the floor, closer to Leo.
Jed’s laughter drifted from the phone. "I guess they’re home," he supplied, and Donna and Leo laughed too.
"Good guess," Leo chipped in, his first comment to his best friend; still teasing and mocking each other after all these years.
Jed once again became serious, if he had been there, he would have looked each of them in the eye. "I know you’re scared," he recognized, and even the boy didn’t deny it, "but it’s going to be okay."
There was a pause, an uncertainty that resonated around the room. Jed obviously picked up on this. "Do you trust me?" he asked, and all the kids firmly answered:
"Yes." They did trust him. They believed in him as much as their father had when he left the prohibited favourite, as much as their uncle had when he left a steady future for one that could have plummeted. They believed in him as much as their aunt had when she went with a friend, simply because he swore he was a good man, as much as their mother had when she left all that she knew for the chance of something better. "Yes, we trust you."
"Then listen to me," Jed entreated. "Everything will be all right. I don’t know how, but I know that it will. I’m sure of it."
He really sounded as sure as his words. His words were clear, and his mind as sharp as when she had first met him. This was him at his best. This was Josiah Bartlet promising a better life, a better world for all the people on it.
The belief that Donna had in ‘I’m sure of it’ was the same belief that Josh had felt all those years ago, with ‘one in five children living in poverty’. It was impossible not to trust in him, because there was a cadence, a magnificence that wasn’t quite tangible. It revived the spirit that
had been lost in her, a spirit that had been lost in them all that day. It gave them the will to not give up, not yet.
*
If the Lyman children were anything, they were smart and fair. They hadn’t quite mastered political savvy, though Noah had steadfastness, Kitty had showmanship, Luke had brains and AJ had charisma. Together they made quite a team.
For AJ’s eighth birthday, they had planned to go to a concert at the Kennedy centre. They had all gotten dressed up, the boys in shirts and ties, and the girls in their prettiest dresses, when Josh was called urgently into work.
He promised that he would only be quick, and that they would go straight from the Hill and still make it in time for the show.
So that was how the four Lyman children found themselves sitting in Josh’s office, alone and fidgety.
Noah tossed up and down a paperweight that he had found on his father’s desk. Up, down, up, down he practiced his pitcher’s skills, but the action was so monotonous that it earned glares from his siblings.
Kitty spun round and round on the desk chair, trying to amuse herself. AJ sat on the desk in front of her, turning paper clips into a bracelet, like an industrialised daisy chain.
Luke was flicking through one of the folders that lay haphazardly on the desk, though he wasn’t reading it. Even he was bored.
Kitty lay her head down on the desk next to where her sister sat, pulling at the hem of her skirt. I’m bored, she moaned, flopping back into the chair, slumping ungracefully.
AJ nodded her assent. Me too. She could normally entertain herself, but this was an extreme situation. She hopped down from the desk, There has to be something interesting going on round here. I mean, isn’t this where the governing happens?
She turned to face her siblings, and all of them recognised with varying levels of trepidation the look on her face. Lets go look around, she suggested, without room for argument.
Kitty seemed game and Luke quietly nodded his assent. It was only Noah, as the oldest and most
responsible, that seemed to have any doubts. I don’t know, he tried, Mom and Dad told us to stay here.
Kitty walked over to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. Noah, Noah, Noah, you gotta learn to read the signs, she wheedled. When he said stay here, he didn’t mean in this room as much as in the building.
AJ jumped on her bandwagon. Yeah Noah, they won’t mind if we just look around, as long as we don’t go too far. She grinned, dimples out. Everyone was susceptible to that brand of innocent charm.
Noah looked over at his brother, who simply nodded his head, willing to follow his sisters anywhere. Defeated, Noah put down the paperweight and stood up. Okay, he said, but if we get in trouble I’m blaming you guys.
So they took to the halls, AJ their leader, Kitty right behind and the boys bringing up the rear. AJ lead them with the tenacity of a colonial explorer; she was excited, she skipped almost,
until she remembered they were meant to be being stealthy, and then she tiptoed.
They were just rounding a corner when they heard someone coming the other way. They all ducked into an empty room to watch the person go past. They all recoiled when they recognised the face.
Mary Marsh: a thorn in their father’s side. The woman who almost got him fired. AJ heard Noah mutter something in Polish; she was sure he only knew the bad words. She shot him a frown and went back to staring through the crack in the door.
Mary Marsh had stopped on the opposite side of the hall, and was talking to her companion, a white haired rotund man, who looked in serious danger of a heart attack. She was quite obviously fuming.
I cannot believe that man is a Congressman; I cannot believe he represents anyone in this country! It’s wrong. It’s immoral. Her hands were flying around incoherently. AJ shared a
look with Luke; they were thinking the same thing. Was she talking about their father?
Their questions were answered with Mary’s next statement. How can he say he’s for family values? The man obviously doesn’t know the meaning of the word; he consorts with other men!
Mary, her companion looked tired, as though he had heard her say the same thing many times before. Does it really matter?
She met him with a wide-eyed stare. She looked more than a little crazy, so much so that Kitty leaned into her brother, for safety. Yes it matters! she seethed. It is an abomination before God, Nathan, an abomination before God.
Collectively, four jaws hit the floor. Noah looked at them all; I can’t believe she just said that, he whispered, his eyes wide, his tie crooked. Totally unbelieving.
Luke, however, from where he skulked in the shadows, disagreed. I can, he muttered. She was the one that called Dad and Toby ‘New York Jews’.
AJ looked confused. But Daddy’s from Connecticut, she whispered, not really to any of them in particular, twirling a piece of hair around her finger.
Luke stood behind her and looked out the crack in the door. She hates anyone who’s not like her, he added, an odd loathing present in his voice. She’s what’s wrong with today’s society.
Noah nodded in assent. I wonder who they’re talking about, he thought out loud.
Kitty rounded on him, an unbelieving look on her face. Are you kidding me? How many openly gay representatives are there? She had a look on her face, which only an eleven-year-old girl could master. It screamed ‘duh’.
Noah, Luke and AJ shared a look.
Matt? they guessed, voicing it as one.
Kitty nodded, her curls bouncing, and suddenly AJ remembered something. There is a vote on the Family Values Bill next week. There’s been talk of adding an amendment. They must have been
targeting the Republicans as easier to sway.
Luke nodded at her, though the other two looked slightly mystified. But Matt won’t vote along party lines for this will he? That wouldn’t make sense.
He did for the Defence of Marriage Act, AJ reminded him, remembering stories that her father had told her about working in the White House, and about acceptance.
They fell silent when Mary began to rant again. It’s unnatural, she yelled, seemingly forgetting that there could be people in the offices surrounding. Matthew Skinner has no right to hold an office. He is sick; he is not fit to vote on the state of this nation!
At this, it seemed that all kids lost their tempers at once. AJ threw the door open and they toppled into the hall. It must have looked strange, the four of them emerging from a darkened closet, as a four headed beast from the mouth of a darkened cave, but they did not give Mary time to consider this before laying into her.
Luke’s eyes burned like embers, his hands were bunched in fists at his sides. Noah laid a restraining hand on his shoulder, though it wasn’t really his brother that he should have been worried about, Kitty looked just about ready to spit fire.
Not fit to vote on the state of this nation? Kitty repeated harshly, her hands on her hips, seeming so much taller than her actual five feet. Matt Skinner is far more suited to calling himself a representative of the people that you are to calling yourself a representative of the Christians of this country.
Mary looked shocked, confused and then finally angry. You don’t even know what you’re talking about; she spat at the young girl.
Yes, she does. Luke jumped to the defence of his sister. You call yourself a leader of the Christian community, yet you ignore the teachings of Jesus Christ to focus on the Pharisaic.
AJ was smug, arms crossed in front of her. Jesus said ‘Thought shall love thy neighbour as thyself’. He didn’t put any limits or conditions on that love.
Noah agreed; You’ve done that yourself Miss Marsh. You’ve ignored that which Jesus called ‘the greatest commandment of them all’ to satisfy your small-minded ignorance.
Mary’s companion watched this interplay like rapture. His eyes darted back and forth like a tennis match.
You have no right to judge another person Miss Marsh, Kitty injected, saying the name bitterly. She shook her head, so sad that this woman could say such horrible things about a man that had been a friend to their family for so, so long.
Noah placed his hands on his sister’s shoulders, creating a wall, a force to be reckoned with. We are all equal in God’s eyes, he reminded her.
AJ and Luke stepped up level with their siblings. Looking at each other, they spoke in unison;
Let he who is with out sin cast the first stone.
Mary looked at them, her eyes growing round and beady, her face turning crimson, though she could not argue against them. They weren’t wrong and they weren’t stupid. She could try and argue, but they would take her down with the might of their convictions.
Mary lifted her head haughtily. You children don’t know what you’re talking about, she asserted; her hands shook with pent up rage.
She began to walk down the hall, to leave them behind, when Kitty called after her, as almost an after thought, Who you are isn’t formed by one small piece of information. So many, many things form it. We’re a tree: each branch, each leaf makes a contribution.
Mary scoffed at this, though the others understood the point that Kitty was trying to make. Nonsense, she exclaimed. You all think you’re so smart, but you’re just children, you have no say in the world. You remember that.
Noah, grinned, smirked really, and titled his head up to look at her as she walked away. We will though. His voice was so sure; his eyes shimmered almost imperceptibly. The world will be ours in a few years, and we will control what happens to people like you. You remember that.
Mary stalked off, she had heard them, but she hadn’t listened. They knew she wouldn’t. The four of them sighed, retreated, and had just turned a corner, about to make their way back to their father’s office, when they ran straight into the man himself. And Matt.
Daddy! AJ exclaimed, looking at her siblings for help. How long have you been standing there?
Josh looked over at Matt; they were both frowning, folded arms emphasising broad shoulders. Long enough, he told them. I thought I told you to stay in the office. He made this point while giving Noah the eye.
Noah sighed, giving up, knowing that he would be in trouble. They tricked me - with the signs.
Josh shook his head. We heard what you said out there, he informed them, and they all looked down at their feet, wishing with all their might that they might be magically whisked away.
Kitty was the first to speak. We’re sorry Daddy, we should have stayed in the office, but we couldn’t help arguing: she was wrong! She raised her eyes to him then, in defiance. She was stunned to find he and Matt both smiling.
There were not many words spoken, no extensive purpled oratories of thanks. There was no need; they hadn’t said what they had said for him. Not exactly, not only. Instead, Matt just nodded his head. Nice work, he told them, before exchanging a few muttered words with Josh, and heading off down the hall.
Josh grabbed the hands of his daughters. Time to go, he declared, we still have a show to catch.
What he didn’t say was that he wasn’t sure it would match up with the show he had just seen. He wasn’t sure he had ever been or would ever be as proud as he was in that moment of his children. He would remember that moment with glee for the longest time. His children got cute with Mary Marsh and got away with it. Toby would be proud. Jed would be proud. Hell, they would all be proud. This would certainly be something to write home about, if he ever figured out how to put his feelings into words.
*
Jed and Abbey got off the phone when the ‘Breaking News’ logo flashed up again. In the room of memories, of family, of honey curls and cornmeal waves, of flattened pine spikes and dark mahogany wisps, six people collectively held their breaths.
"A few minutes ago police stormed the Capital Building. After a brief fire-fight, the terrorists were successfully taken into custody. A few minor injuries are being reported and medical assistance remains on standby. The hostages are now being released."
AJ’s head fell to her mother’s chest. Her body shook with tears, with the fear that she had been holding in during the longest morning of her life. Donna kissed her, held her tight to her body, the true relief not seeming real, not yet.
Kitty grinned, her head in her hands. She too couldn’t quite understand the words, but held her arms out for Leo when he sat down next to her. He enfolded her in one arm, though held the other hand out to Donna, who took it and squeezed it. They shared a smile atop the two blonde heads: a thank you, an acceptance.
Noah had to leave the room, he was thirteen, he didn’t want people to see him cry, especially not Luke and Leo. It didn’t matter though because when he re-entered the room, the red rims around his eyes were still evident.
Luke moved to the arm of the sofa, next to his mother and sister. He kissed his mother lightly on the cheek, rubbed his sister’s back. He did not cry. He watched out for them.
When the phone rang he leaned over and hit ‘speaker’ and ‘answer’; he didn’t want to detach himself from the rest of them, in this, their moment of victory by extension.
"Hello?" His voice sounded strange even to his own ears. As though strained, but in a good way. Maybe it was as a result of the grin that would not dissipate from his lips.
"Luke?" The voice was enough to send them into a flurry. They all moved, crowded around the phone as if it allowed them closer access to him, to know he was okay.
"Josh!" Donna exclaimed at the same time AJ cried, "Daddy!"
There was a chuckle on his end. "Yeah, it’s me. I’m okay." He knew exactly what they wanted to know, what must have been going through their minds in the hours he had been trapped in the Capital.
Donna took control of the conversation. "What happened? Is everyone else okay? Ginger? Sam?
Ains- "
"They’re all fine," he cut her off. "Sam hit his head at one point," he laughed and so did Leo. "He tripped over his feet when they pulled out the guns." A small whimper could be
heard from where Kitty leant against Leo. "But everyone is fine," he reiterated, stressing the words, leaving no room for troubled thoughts, for doubt.
Donna picked up the phone at this point, feeling only slightly selfish. She held AJ tight still, but talked to him alone. "I was scared Josh," she told him. "You weren’t supposed to do this to me again." There was light mocking in her voice.
He sighed, deeply, and she wished that he could just be home with them, so she could verify his safety with her own eyes, her own hands. "I was scared too," he admitted, not sounding very like himself. "I didn’t mean to put you through this again."
She smiled at his self-deprecation; he spoke as if he had caused the day’s events to happen. "I know you didn’t. That’s why you led the people on the inside," she guessed.
His voice went up a few octaves. "How did you know that was me?"
She laughed; kissing the top of their youngest’s head, whose eyes were closed in long sought peace. "I’m tuned to you," she joked, but then went serious. "You could’ve been killed," she whispered, because it was a conversation only for them, not for the innocent ears of their progeny.
He sounded slightly guilty when he spoke. "I know Donna, but I had to do something. I couldn’t just sit there, I knew I couldn’t."
"Why?" She was confused by him, strange after so many years of intrinsic understanding to not know what was going on in his head.
"It was the weirdest thing," he started, his voice going hazy, as if recalling a dream. "They were holding us there, we were just sitting, waiting for someone to save us…" He trailed off, reality bursting in bubbles over the murky surface of memory.
"Yeah?" She coaxed him on, wanting to understand, wanting to be able to piece together the fractured jigsaw of what had happened.
"All I could think of were you and the kids. I knew I had to come home." It was a simple reason, from a man that was so complicated, so complex.
"So what happened?" She knew he was taking her somewhere, somewhere in his mind that she couldn’t go on her own.
"I realised I couldn’t just sit there. I remembered some things are worth fighting for. You know why?"
She didn’t. "Why?"
"Because our life flashed in front of my eyes. Some things are worth fighting for Donnatella." He paused, and whispered, “I love you." It was a simple explanation, and she was amazed by how completely understood it, graciously.
"I love you too." She was amazed how much sentiment could be crammed into her voice in four little words. She couldn’t remember the first time she had said them to him, and there had to have been a thousand times since, she was sure. But she wondered if maybe she might remember that day, and those words, for the rest of her life.
They had never expected their life to be the way it was. There was no way of telling what the future would bring. But from his last sentence before he hung up the phone, she knew that whatever happened, it was going to be all right.
"I’ll be home in fifteen minutes."
*
THE END
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