Chapter Text
The ceremony was beautiful. The Manchester farm makes a perfect backdrop in the fall, and the Bartlets were kind enough to let them use it to host all of their friends and family.
(And a few dignitaries that just had to be on the list, according to Josh.)
And now, as the sun starts to set in the late afternoon, and her son and his bride sweep across the makeshift dance floor in each other’s arms, the fun part of the night is just starting to begin. Their first dance ends, and the crowd claps as he kisses her, right in the middle of everyone.
Josh leaves the floor as Donna’s father walks on, and the music starts up again for the father daughter dance.
It takes him a few minutes, getting sidetracked by more than a few people, but Josh makes his way through the crowd until he finds his mother, standing at the edge of the dance floor, smiling as she watches her daughter in law spin around with her dad.
“Ready for that to be us next?” Josh teases as he throws an arm around his mother.
“More than ready,” Rachel smiles up at him. “So how does it feel?”
“To be married?” Josh asks, absentmindedly spinning the brand-new band on his ring finger. “I dunno—it’s pretty good so far.”
“Only gets better from here,” Rachel tells him as the song starts its last chorus. “Are you finally gonna tell me what song we’re dancing to now?”
“Not a chance,” Josh laughs. “That’ll ruin the surprise.”
“It’s not gonna be a surprise anymore in another minute,” Rachel throws back as the song starts to fade, the crowd clapping as Donna and her father exit the dance floor.
“Ready?” Josh asks, mischievous smile perfectly in place.
Before she can respond, the first few notes float in from the band, and Rachel gasps.
“Oh, Josh,” she smiles softly at him as she takes his arm, letting him lead her on to the dance floor.
“I thought you might like it,” he grins down at her. “Well, I was hoping. Honestly it was fifty-fifty.”
“It’s my wedding song,” she tells him, identifying the piece from the very first chord, “of course I like it.”
“It’s pretty cheesy,” he tells her, a laugh playing at the corners of his mouth.
“So was your father,” she jokes back as he spins her around, “and so are you.”
“I’m a romantic, mother,” he feigns offense, “there’s a difference.”
“Uh huh,” she grins as she twirls around one more time before the song starts to fade.
Josh kisses her on the cheek and she holds on to his arm until she’s back at her table.
“Go find your wife,” Rachel pats his hand, “I’m sure she’s already looking for you.”
Josh grins. “My wife. Gotta get used to that.”
The party goes on for a little while, guests talking and dancing cornering the newlyweds at every chance they get. It’s at least an hour before Donna finds herself with a free moment, and she makes a beeline for the nearest non-political person she can find.
It just so happens to be Rachel.
“Donna,” she smiles big, opening her arms to hug the bride, “you look absolutely gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” Donna hugs her back. “Sorry I haven’t been over sooner; I seem to keep getting side tracked.”
“Oh I know,” Rachel laughs. “I’ve been watching you two. You’ve had it pretty bad—but Josh has it worse.”
She nods to the far corner of the dance floor where Josh is trapped at a table between President Bartlet and President Santos, the two of them giving him “advice” on how to have a successful marriage.
(Well, Bartlet is. Santos just likes to keep Bartlet talking so Josh has no choice but to stay in his own personal circle of hell.)
“The ceremony was lovely,” Rachel turns her attention back to the bride.
“Was it?” Donna tilts her head. “I think I blacked out for most of it.”
Rachel laughs. “Same thing happened to me on my wedding day. The only things I remember are the vows.”
Donna smiles. “Me too.”
The reception continues on for a while, food being served and the cake being cut before every person under the age of fifty seems to find their way on the dance floor.
Donna is dancing with the current President—and Josh with the First Lady—when the former Commander in Chief finds Rachel happily watching from her little table on the side.
“Mr. President,” she greets him as he sits down.
He waves her off. “No one calls me that anymore, please, it’s Jed.”
Rachel nods politely.
“I gotta say,” he takes a deep breath, “for a while there I wasn’t sure they were actually gonna get here.”
“You and me both,” Rachel raises her eyebrows.
“They make a beautiful couple,” Jed looks out and watches the bride and groom find each other as the song changes. Donna laughs as Josh’s arms circle her waist, and the band plays something a little slower.
“They make a happy couple,” Rachel muses. “That’s all I could ever ask for.”
“Yeah,” Jed smiles. “Our boy did alright in the end, didn’t he?”
Rachel grins. “Yes—yes, he did.”
There are more than a few memorable moments Rachel’s experienced over her many years of life, but nothing is quite as exciting for her as the birth of a grandchild.
When Josh and Donna first told her they were expecting, she was over the moon. Nine months later, when their first daughter was born, Rachel flew up to DC and stayed with them for two weeks. They named her Caroline, and she became the spitting image of her mother.
A few years later, when they announced Donna was pregnant again, Rachel was just as excited. She flew up a week early this time, and that worked out in everyone’s favor. She stayed home with little Caroline while her little sister—Nora—was born. She still remembers them bringing her home, the magic and wonder and pure love reflecting in the older sister’s eyes as she met the new baby.
Even now, with a third—albeit unexpected—baby girl coming home from the hospital, Rachel can barely contain her excitement. She’s almost as bad as the girls, barely able to sit still as she waits for her kids to come home with another kid of their own.
The door slowly creaks open, and Josh’s grin lights up the front hallway.
“Daddy!” the two older girls cheer in unison, scrambling off the couch to run towards his knees.
“Hey,” he says in a mock whisper, lifting both girls off the ground in a hug. “Shh—we have to be quiet.”
“Why?” Caroline asks him.
“Because the baby is sleeping,” Donna whispers as she walks through the door behind her husband, a little bundle of joy cradled in her arms.
The girls lean forward to get a good look at the tiny sleeping baby wrapped in pink and blue blankets. “Woah.”
“Go sit on the couch,” Josh sets them down, “we’ll bring her over.”
The girls run back towards Grandma, lifting themselves up on either side of her.
“This,” Donna smiles at the baby as she rounds the couch, “is Leah.”
Rachel’s eyes light up as Donna places the baby in her arms, who squirms for a minute, readjusting in the arms of a new person.
“Hi Leah,” Rachel says softly. “I’m your grandma.”
“No,” Nora tells her, “you’re my grandma.”
“She’s all of our grandmas,” Caroline tells her.
“Oh.”
“Why don’t you guys go put your pajamas on,” Josh suggests to his girls, still unpacking the hospital bag. “Then maybe we’ll see if the baby wants to watch Tangled.”
“Yay!” they cheer and run down the hall to their room together.
Rachel laughs at their enthusiasm. “They’re gonna lost interest in her the second the movie starts.”
“That’s the idea,” Josh collapses on the couch and throws one arm around his mother. “Thanks for watching them.”
“Of course,” Rachel smiles down at the baby who yawns big before she starts to blink open her eyes. “What else are grandmas for?”
Leah starts crying and Donna comes back down the hall. “I think someone’s hungry.”
“I think so too,” Rachel laughs, handing the baby over to her mother.
Donna sits down on the other side of Josh and he presses a kiss to her cheek before the bigger girls come barreling back in the room.
Caroline snuggles in next to Rachel, and Nora just waits for Josh to pull her up onto his lap. He does, grabbing the remote as he does so, and she wiggles into his chest until he gets comfy.
The movie starts playing, and they get through about half of it before Donna, Nora, and Leah are all passed out. Josh trades the toddler for the baby, Nora curling up into Donna as they doze together, while Josh holds the sleeping infant.
He’s got a smile on his face about a mile wide and his dimples are popping out in full force.
“You look happy,” Rachel tells him, seemingly out of nowhere.
He looks over at her with a lazy grin, perfectly content with his Friday night at home. He looks more relaxed—though how he manages that with three kids, she’ll never know—like he’s finally found what he’s been looking for in this life.
Or rather, who he’s been looking for.
“Of course I’m happy,” he tells her easily, nodding his head at all six of them surrounding him on the couch.
“I’ve got all my girls here with me.”