Work Text:
May 2022
“I think we need to put more money into advertising down there. The thing about the Southeast states is that they’re movable. We can win them. People write them off as red states because that’s what they’ve been since the two thousand and six election, but in two thousand and two, President Bartlet won all but four of them. In ninety-eight, he won all but two of them. They’re not as red as you think they are,” Sam says.
The Seaborn for President Communications Director, Danielle, lets out a sigh. “Senator,” she starts, a forced smile on her face, “I totally understand that the Southeast has some blue dots. But with the political climate the way that it is right now, and the current occupant of the White House…”
“Oh, for the love of god, can we say his name? He’s not Beetlejuice,” Sam interrupts. “Cut the ‘current occupant’, ‘my opponent’ crap.” Sam glances at Donna and smiles, clearly proud of himself.
She can feel a familiar energy in the room, something reminiscent of caffeine-fueled late nights in New Hampshire. It’s clear that the phone call Donna set up for Sam a few nights prior has given him a much-needed morale boost. They’re still a ways away from the election, and while Sam has the numbers, he’s lost a bit of the momentum.
The room is a little stuffy, despite the air conditioning. Donna’s a little on edge, as to be expected this time of year, but she’s doing her best to get through the day. She and Josh and the girls (and their dog Sadie) will be on the road to New Hampshire the following morning to spend a weekend away from D.C., and Donna’s certain that’s exactly what she needs.
Before Sam can go another round with the Communications Director, Donna interjects. “We’ve got a ways to go yet. We’re not out of money, but we have to spend it wisely. Let’s allocate a little more of the budget in the three most movable areas of the Southeast to start. If we’re seeing the results, we can consider increasing our efforts there.”
“Tennessee, Florida, and Georgia are looking the most favorable at the moment,” Danielle says.
Donna looks to Sam, who gives her a determined nod before he continues. “Then let’s move them,” he declares. “What’s next?”
It takes all of Donna’s energy not to roll her eyes at Sam. He always gets like this after a chat with the man they used to work for, and Josh loves to make fun of him for it. Donna pulls her phone into her lap and sends Josh a quick text about Sam’s Bartlet-esque performance before flipping it face down and putting it back on the table.
About fifteen minutes into the strategy meeting, Donna’s phone starts to vibrate. It begins with a few stretches of what she assumes are emails or group chat messages (or memes sent by her and Josh’s oldest, who now has a cell phone of her own), but soon it’s almost nonstop to the point where she realizes that she should probably check it. Donna waves and gets Sam’s attention, pointing to the phone and exiting the room after receiving a nod of acknowledgment.
Donna’s entire lock screen is filled with alerts: email alerts, Twitter mentions, group chat messages, texts. Before she can read any of them, a text from Caroline comes through. Donna glances at the time, noting that she’s been out of school for about five minutes.
Donna opens the text, which reads simply, Have you seen this? with a Twitter link attached. The link is to Zoey’s Twitter account, which piques Donna’s interest immediately. She doesn’t have to scroll very far; Zoey’s pinned tweet catches her eye, and Donna clicks on it, watching the numbers at the bottom of the tweet climb before her eyes.
The initial tweet is a photo of a young couple with then-Governor Jed Bartlet at what looks like a stop during the first campaign. He and the couple are smiling for the camera, and Josh and Donna are in the background of the photo. Josh’s hands are outstretched in the middle of some story while Donna listens intently to whatever it is he’s saying. They’re looking at each other as though they’re the only other person in what is actually a very crowded room.
Donna doesn’t remember where they were, but she remembers the moment the photo was taken. It was just after her return to the campaign that April. Josh was telling her about something that happened while she was gone. Looking at the photo, she instantly recalls the conflicted feelings she had back then, the way a look or a touch could send her into a tailspin for weeks, being certain that he could never feel the same way.
The initial tweet contains the photo and a caption, which Donna moves to read after spending a moment reflecting on how far they’ve come.
@HCF6753: I found this in a box of my mom’s today. I know that's President Bartlet, but I'm way more interested in the people in the back. They’re looking at each other like they’ll die if they break eye contact. Do they know this picture exists? Are they still together?
It only takes a few replies before someone tags Zoey, asking for help or for a retweet.
@uptight_platypus: Hey bestie @ZoeyBartlet can you help?
A few people mention that their parents or grandparents used to work in politics during that time, promising to ask them to identify Josh and Donna. One person deeper in the replies claims to have been an intern on the Russell campaign and correctly identifies Donna, but can’t place Josh.
Donna clicks on Zoey’s retweet and begins to read.
@ZoeyBartlet: Okay, internet, I’ll bite: here’s the story of the couple in the background of the photo. (1/?)
The initial tweet ends with an emoji of a spool of thread, indicating that Zoey has written a series of tweets attached to the first. Donna scrolls through the tweets to see exactly what’s been written about the two of them, a strange sense of dread making itself known in the pit of her stomach. It turns out that what’s written is very sweet. It’s not like Zoey would air any sordid secrets, but it’s a relief to have it confirmed.
Donna can see how the Twitter thread has captured people’s attention. Attached to most of the tweets are old photos: Josh and Donna at another rally from the same 1998 campaign; a posed shot with Josh, Donna, and Zoey; Josh and Donna dancing at an inaugural ball; Josh and Donna on Election Night 2006; photos of them on their wedding day; photos of Josh, Donna, and the Moss-Lyman girls on the Bartlet Farm. Zoey clearly gave the people what they asked for and then some.
@ZoeyBartlet: The photo is of @josh_lyman and @DonnaMoss at a campaign stop in 1998. I texted my parents to see if they remembered where it was, but they had no idea. Josh was the Senior Political Director for the campaign, and Donna was his assistant. (2/?)
@ZoeyBartlet: I was obviously on the campaign trail w/ my parents, so Josh and I got super close. He was like my big brother. I got to know Donna through Josh and really liked her too. Yes, they were pretty much always like that. Best part: in that photo, they weren’t even a couple. (3/?)
@ZoeyBartlet: If you asked, they’d call each other their best friend, but that was it. But Twitter, I’ll tell you a secret: one time, I overheard Donna tell someone that she didn’t really work for the President, she worked for Josh. It was always obvious to me. (4/?)
@ZoeyBartlet: Josh was actually at Rosslyn the night of the assassination attempt on my dad. Josh was shot and he almost didn’t make it. Donna helped take care of him (and ran his office) while he recovered. It was just really clear they cared a lot about each other. (5/?)
@ZoeyBartlet: A few years later, Donna was in Gaza and was in the explosion over Memorial Day. Josh flew to Germany and stayed with her for a little while during her recovery. I wasn’t there, but everyone says that’s the most upset they’ve ever seen Josh, and I totally believe them. (6/?)
@ZoeyBartlet: They went their separate ways for a little while until they reunited on the Santos campaign in 2006. Their time apart was miserable for both of them, and I think all of D.C. collectively let out a breath when they started working together again. (7/?)
@ZoeyBartlet: They finally got it together after the election - that’s almost ten years after they met. Josh and Donna were COS to President Santos and Helen Santos respectively, which adds to the cuteness. (8/?)
@ZoeyBartlet: Josh and Donna got married on my parents’ farm in New Hampshire in October 2007. My dad officiated. I can say it was easily the best wedding I’ve ever been to. (9/?)
@ZoeyBartlet: Josh and Donna have three amazing girls: Caroline is 13, Nora is 11, and Leah is 8. Josh retired from politics when Caroline was born so that Donna could keep working. (We’re all big fans of this move in the Bartlet family, especially Dad.) (10/?)
@ZoeyBartlet: Josh actually teaches at Georgetown now, and Donna’s currently running @S_Seaborn’s presidential campaign! Josh keeps trying to get Donna to run for Congress, but he hasn’t convinced her yet… (11/?)
@ZoeyBartlet: So in a nutshell: That’s Josh Lyman and Donna-Moss Lyman. They met on the ‘98 campaign. Yes, they’re together and ridiculously happy today, but no, they weren’t together then. They know the photo exists now, probably… sorry, guys, I love you! (12/12)
Just as Donna finishes reading the tweet thread, she hears a knock at the door. Sam is standing at the doorway, a concerned expression on his face. “Everything okay?” he asks, entering her office and taking a seat in one of her visitor’s chairs.
She sighs, turning her chair to face Sam. “Yeah, it’s fine. Do you have your phone with you, by any chance?”
“Yeah,” Sam says, reaching for the phone in his pocket.
“Go to Zoey’s Twitter and read the pinned tweet at the top.”
Sam reaches for his glasses, putting them on before unlocking his phone and doing as Donna instructs. He slowly slides his thumb across the screen as he reads, his smile growing bigger as he gets deeper in the thread. “Donna!” he says, the enthusiasm evident in his voice. “You went viral!”
Donna groans and puts her face in her hands, resting her elbows on the desk. “Sam.”
“Look at these numbers! People love you guys. You really should…”
“Don’t,” Donna warns, cutting Sam off before he can finish his sentence. “I’m finishing out the campaign, Sam. That’s what we agreed on.”
Sam puts his phone on Donna’s desk, the screen facing down. He pulls his chair closer to the desk before he continues. “I’m not saying you have to do it right now. You can do it at midterms. I have it on good authority that Congressman Edwards isn’t running again in the Wisconsin second. They’re going to need a viable Democrat so it doesn’t flip.”
Donna’s phone buzzes and she picks it up to find a text message from Josh, containing just the link to Zoey’s tweet. Donna quickly types a response indicating that she and Sam are going to handle it before locking her phone and placing it back on the desk. “We need to focus on the campaign we’re running right now,” Donna insists.
“I can find it in me to focus on more than one thing at once,” Sam shrugs.
A few seconds pass before Donna’s phone buzzes again, this time indicating that she’s getting a phone call from Josh. She stares at it for a moment, debating if she should answer it or not, ultimately deciding to answer and put it on speakerphone. “You shouldn’t call me from the pickup line,” Donna says.
“Hi, Josh, I miss you,” Josh retorts in his voice reserved for his Donna impressions.
She can’t help but smile, despite how frustrating he can be. “I do miss you, but you still shouldn’t be calling me from the pickup line. Or texting me from the pickup line for that matter.”
“They haven’t let the girls out yet, we’ve got another five minutes before the line even starts to move,” Josh protests. “You saw the tweets?”
“We did,” Donna confirms. “You’re on speakerphone with me and Sam.”
“Oh, good,” Josh laughs. “That will make this next part easier.”
“Josh,” Donna warns. “Don’t…”
“I tried it already, buddy,” Sam says. “She shut me down.”
“Donna!” Josh groans. “Seriously, this would be good for you! Good for all of us!”
Donna starts organizing items on her desk, just to find something to do with her hands. “I’m finishing out this campaign, Joshua. I’ve told Sam the same thing.”
“Of course you’re finishing out the campaign,” Josh agrees. “Just… after you finish out the campaign, consider running in the Wisconsin second. I have it on good authority…”
“That Edwards isn’t running again,” Donna finishes, glaring at Sam, who holds his hands up in mock surrender.
“How did you…”
“Sam told me,” Donna explains. “Funny, he used the exact same words, too.”
“Look,” Sam starts, “I’m gonna need someone in Congress I know can get the job done. And before you argue, I’m not talking about doing it right away. You can run in the midterms and it will still make a difference.”
Donna grabs a pen, uncapping and re-capping it in her hand. “Let’s get through this election and then we’ll talk.”
“Okay,” Josh relents. “I’ll see you tonight?”
“See you tonight,” Donna confirms, ending the call.
A moment after they disconnect, Sam’s phone buzzes, and he reaches for it, smiling when he reads the message. Donna lifts her gaze toward Sam, who looks just a little petrified. It’s clear that the message is from Josh, and they’re talking about her. She should probably ease up a little, considering he could very well be the next President of the United States, but she’s spent years handling Sam and Josh, and she’s not about to stop until she has to.
“Okay,” Donna says. “We’ve got a four o’clock with finance and then I’m…”
“Heading out,” Sam finishes, checking his watch.
“Sam,” Donna protests.
“You’re heading out,” Sam repeats. “You guys are still going to the Bartlet farm this weekend, right?”
She nods. “We’re leaving early tomorrow morning.”
“That settles it. I’m kicking you out after the four o’clock. And if I see you responding to emails or work-related communication this weekend, I know I’ll have backup in New Hampshire to make sure you disconnect,” Sam insists.
“Fine,” Donna agrees. “But, Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“Go easy on Danielle, would you?”
Sam laughs. “Donna.”
“She knows what she’s talking about. She’s good at her job. I wouldn’t have hired her if I didn’t trust her.”
“She’s just… she’s so young.”
“She’s older than I was when I started on the Bartlet for America campaign,” Donna points out.
“Yeah, but that was different.”
“Of course it’s different. Danielle is older than I was and has more experience than I did,” Donna says.
“It also helps that she’s not head over heels for her boss,” Sam teases.
“Get out,” Donna laughs, pointing to the door.
Sam stands. “Don’t worry, he was just as bad as you were.”
“Goodbye, Senator,” Donna says, grinning as she turns toward her computer.
Donna arrives home that evening to find her family scattered between the living room and the kitchen. Josh is getting some plates from the cabinet, Nora at his side, talking his ear off about something or another. There’s a stack of boxes from the pizza place on the counter, and Donna is suddenly very grateful that she doesn’t have to cook or wait to eat. Caroline and Leah are in the living room, a magazine under Leah’s hand as Caroline paints her nails.
“Mom,” Caroline says, putting the brush back into the nail polish and screwing it shut. “Let that dry for a second,” she says to her sister. She pushes herself up off the floor and walks over to Donna, her expression concerned. “You okay? I saw some people in the thread say some… really terrible stuff. And I know this is a hard weekend in general, so.”
Caroline, for better or worse, got most of Donna’s physical traits. She’s blonde (at least naturally, she likes to change up her hair color) and willowy, and her freckled alabaster skin burns easily like Donna’s. But she takes after her dad in a lot of ways, too. Perhaps the biggest is her tendency toward worry and anxiety, and at this moment, she can look into Caroline’s eyes and see Josh.
Donna opens her arms for a hug and Caroline wraps her arms around Donna’s waist. Donna drops a kiss on the top of Caroline’s head, wondering for a moment when their eldest daughter got so tall, then puts a hand on each of Caroline’s shoulders. “I’m fine,” she insists. “Dad’s fine, too.”
“You sure?” Caroline asks.
“I’m positive,” Donna says. “You doing Leah’s nails?”
“Yeah,” Caroline beams, straightening up at the fact that Donna noticed. That’s another Josh Lyman mannerism. “I did kind of a polka dot thing, it matches her bathing suit. Leah, show Mom your nails!”
Leah does as instructed, lifting her nails to show Donna the pink and white polka dot design. Donna peeks over Caroline’s shoulder grinning at Leah. “They look great! Quick question though, how’s Leah supposed to eat with wet nails?”
Caroline throws her head back and groans, rushing over to the coffee table to quickly finish the manicure, and Donna sticks her tongue out at Leah, who giggles and scratches her nose with the back of her hand.
Donna feels a pair of arms throw themselves around her waist, Nora attaching herself to her mother and nearly knocking her off balance. Donna turns to look at their middle daughter, who peers up at her from behind her dark-framed glasses. “Mom! I’ve been dying to tell you a story all day.”
“Oh, yeah?” Donna asks. “Go for it.”
“We practiced for the promotion ceremony and that annoying kid in Mr. Phillips’ class tripped on the stage,” Nora says. “He was fine, don’t worry. But it was hilarious.”
Donna toes off her shoes. “Is he the one who likes to make fart noises when girls walk by?”
Nora shakes her head. “The one who likes to quiz people to see if they’re really a fan of stuff.”
“I hate that kid,” Josh grumbles, joining the rest of the family in the living room. He reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind Donna’s ear, leaning in for a kiss. “Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” she echoes.
“How you doing?” Josh asks.
She’s known him for twenty-four years. Their fifteenth wedding anniversary is in October. But somehow, he still gives her butterflies. “I’m good,” she declares, brushing an invisible piece of lint off of Josh’s shoulder. “You ordered pizza?”
“And breadsticks and fried ravioli,” Josh confirms. “I had a feeling we probably shouldn’t leave leftovers before a trip.”
They’re only going to the Bartlets for the long weekend, but it’s sweet that he remembers these things. “Sounds great,” Donna says.
“Caroline, Leah, finish up in there,” Josh instructs. “We’re about to eat.”
The family gathers at the table for dinner. Leah seats herself next to Donna, gingerly holding a slice of pizza in her hands so as not to disrupt the nail drying process. She tilts her head at Donna pensively, as though she has something to say.
“Spit it out, Bug,” Donna says, gently nudging Leah’s foot with her own. Leah is their introspective child, quieter than her older sisters. But when something’s on her mind, she will absolutely say it, and it’s clear she’s about to speak her truth.
“Dad says you should run for Congress,” Leah says quickly, the words tumbling out almost squished together.
Donna laughs, glaring at Josh. “Josh.”
“I didn’t say you were running, I said you should run,” Josh protests, popping a fried ravioli in his mouth.
“I think you should run for Congress, too,” Leah says firmly. “Dad says that it could help Uncle Sam.”
Donna sighs, taking a bite of her pizza. Josh isn’t going to let this go anytime soon, clearly, and now he’s recruited their youngest for his cause. It’s possible that Sam could have been a part of this, too, although Leah didn’t specifically implicate him. It’s easier to throw her dad under the bus than it is her uncle, the future President of the United States.
“You don’t want to run?” Nora asks, reaching for a breadstick.
“I’m running a Presidential campaign,” Donna insists. “I have to think about that before I think about anything else.”
“See, you keep using that as an excuse not to talk about it,” Josh says. “You’ve been giving me excuse after excuse for years, and now it’s time to really dig in.”
“People like you,” Nora continues. “You went viral.”
“People like Aunt Zoey,” Donna corrects her, “and they like to be nosy.” She takes another bite of pizza.
Josh reaches for a napkin, wiping pizza grease off of his hands. “People like you, too. People like us,” he says.
“Okay, we’re dropping the discussion of running for Congress now,” Donna declares. “Has everyone packed for tomorrow?”
A silence fills the room as Donna glances around the table, four pairs of wide eyes darting away to avoid contact with hers.
“Okay,” Donna says. “Eat, then pack.”
The Moss-Lyman clan does as they’re told, quickly finishing their dinner and scattering to their respective bedrooms to pack for their trip. Josh begins the packing process but struggles to finish, so Donna takes over when she notices that he’s managed to pack three pairs of flip flops, but no underwear.
She moves to fold his clothes, which are haphazardly piled beside his suitcase, and he wraps his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder briefly before snaking his hands up her shirt. “Josh,” she laughs.
“What?”
“The girls are just down the hall.”
“And they know not to come in here if the door’s shut,” Josh says, pressing his lips to her neck.
“I’m wearing a swimsuit this weekend,” she protests.
Josh sighs and backs away, moving to the head of the bed to pet the dog, who is fast asleep. “Sam said you’re going to put more money into Southeast marketing?”
Donna nods. “I think we can start. The Democrats have written off the Southeast for years.”
“I think it’s a smart move,” Josh says, moving to scratch Sadie’s belly as she rolls over. “You won’t move them if you ignore them. You planning some stops down there?”
“After the convention, probably,” Donna says.
Josh’s phone vibrates loudly from its place on the night table, and he reaches for it with his free hand. “Hey, CJ,” he answers. He pauses for a moment, then lets out a laugh. “Hang on, let me put you on speaker.” Josh takes the phone away from his ear, then holds it out between him and Donna. “Okay, there we go.”
“I’m reading through the tweets about you two,” CJ declares. “Do you know how many people have started telling stories about working with the two of you during the Bartlet and Santos days?”
“Good stories, I hope,” Donna winces, thinking of the effect this will have on Sam’s campaign. The last thing she would ever want to do is jeopardize Sam’s chances of becoming President.
“Almost exclusively,” CJ confirms. “I mean, minus the typical internet grossness of people commenting on Donna’s body, the reaction really is positive. There are a few people who seem to really hate Josh, but they all seem to be Republicans. I checked.”
“Oh, well, that tracks,” Josh says.
Donna walks to Josh’s drawer and places an unnecessary clothing item back in it. “That explains why Caroline’s been so concerned about me all night.”
“You two have yourselves a pretty sweet kid. Three of them, in fact,” CJ says. “Even the middle one, despite the fact that she’s almost exactly like her dad.”
Donna looks up at Josh, who’s beaming with pride. She listens to Josh and CJ banter back and forth as she packs, occasionally catching his eye. It’s been too long since they went to visit CJ, she realizes, and part of that is due to the fact that she’s working on Sam’s campaign. If she ran for Congress, she’d be denying not only Josh, but the girls, so many opportunities.
The Moss-Lyman family has adapted well to the stress of a Presidential campaign, partly because Sam was firm about the rules from the get-go. At the time, Donna couldn’t believe Sam had stolen a page from her book, creating rules to ensure that things ran smoothly. But she’s grateful he did, because she works from D.C. one week out of every month and out of California for another, to give Sam time with the Seaborn clan. If I’m going to run on the idea of making things better for families, I’d do well to ensure that you and I are both spending time with ours, he’d said.
Even so, politics is a line of work that comes with sacrifices. Some of those sacrifices they’d become all too familiar with before their first four years in the White House were up. The last thing she wants to do is hold her family back, to ask them to sacrifice more for her. She’s the reason they’re headed to New Hampshire this weekend, after all, despite the fact that the Bartlets have given them an open invitation. Donna just can’t ask them to sacrifice anything else.
“CJ!” Josh yelps, pulling Donna back to the conversation with CJ. “Don’t!”
“Too late, mi amor, I already did,” CJ snorts, a restrained laugh so as to ensure that she doesn’t spiral into a patented CJ Cregg breakdown.
Josh sighs and sits up, tapping on his screen a few times. “Josh Lyman and Donna Moss-Lyman continue to be sickeningly in love in all of the best ways. I’m glad the internet finally sees what a sap Josh is,” he reads aloud. “It was so sweet, and then you had to add that last bit. And that picture.”
“The internet loves the pictures, Josh, I’ve already got a hundred retweets,” CJ declares. “I’ve got plenty more ready whenever we need them, by the way.”
Josh turns the phone around to show Donna a photo CJ added to her tweet. It’s a photo of Josh and Donna on Air Force One, both asleep, curled up together while CJ stands behind them, jokingly tipping her (closed) water bottle over their heads as though she was threatening to pour water on them.
“Save ‘em,” Josh says. “May need them some other time.”
Donna rolls her eyes but doesn’t respond. They say their goodbyes to CJ, and Donna finishes packing while Josh and Sadie offer moral support. Donna heads down the hallway to check on the status of the girls’ packing when she hears a shriek of laughter coming from Nora’s room.
She pokes her head in to see all three girls, huddled up together on Nora’s bed. Nora is in the center, her iPad resting on her knees and the screen reflecting in her glasses as she furiously taps the screen with her two index fingers. Leah’s head is on Nora’s shoulder, her nose scrunched up as she laughs at whatever is happening on screen. Caroline’s head is in her hands and she’s groaning and laughing at the same time, her face flushed.
“What’s happening here?” Donna asks casually.
All three girls glance at each other, then at their mother, collapsing into a fit of giggles. They wordlessly elect Nora as their spokeswoman through nudges and pokes, so Nora sits up straight and turns the iPad to show Donna what’s captured their attention. “We’re looking at old pictures,” she declares without further explanation.
The photo on the screen is of CJ and Toby, presumably at a state dinner of some sort. CJ is wearing a gray silk evening gown, and of course, Toby is wearing a tuxedo. The iPad dings and Nora quickly turns it back toward them, tapping the screen to view the message that has just come in. This new message elicits a stronger reaction than the last one - Leah snatches the iPad out of Nora’s hand and zooms in on something as the iPad dings yet again.
“What the hell is happening here?” Josh asks, joining Donna in the doorway.
“Nora texted everybody asking for old pictures,” Caroline explains between giggles.
Josh raises an eyebrow. “And by everybody, you mean…” He walks over to the bed slowly, and Leah freely hands him the iPad as she tries to catch her breath.
Sadie bounds into the bedroom and jumps onto the bed with the girls, clearly intrigued by the hubbub that she’s not yet a part of. Donna walks into the room and stands next to Josh, who tilts the iPad to show an iMessage between Nora, CJ, Sam, Ainsley, Toby, Zoey, Charlie, Abbey, and Jed. Josh has scrolled up to the beginning of the thread, which begins with a message from Nora, and reads as follows:
Hi everyone I really need old pictures of mom and dad please, I’m not even going to lie and say it’s for school, I just think they’re funny.
Josh immediately laughs at the honesty of the initial text, scrolling through the message thread and occasionally tapping on a photo to view it. The photos, supplied primarily by Toby, are not only of Josh and Donna, but of the rest of the Bartlet Senior Staff and the Bartlet family.
Donna sighs and rolls her eyes at Toby’s response. Will try to dig some more up over the next few days. Be nice to your mom this weekend.
The iPad dings again and Nora reaches up to grab the iPad from Josh’s hand, but he holds it just out of her reach.
He shows the latest photo to Donna, a photo of the two of them at Matt Santos’ inaugural ball, this one from Ainsley. They’re dancing together in the photo, and Donna has clearly said something that Josh found amusing because he’s grinning and his dimples are on full display.
“Aww,” Donna says softly, gently bumping him with her shoulder. “That’s a sweet picture.”
“I wanna see,” Nora insists, kneeling on her bed to give herself some height as she reaches for the iPad.
Josh playfully lifts it a few inches out of her grasp. “Have you finished packing?”
“We’re all finished,” Caroline insists. “You can even go check.”
Josh looks at Donna, who simply shrugs. He hands Nora the iPad as another message alert comes through, and the girls scramble to find their positions once again. The shrieks and giggles begin once more as the girls enjoy whatever is on the screen.
“Don’t stay up too late,” Donna warns, dropping a kiss on the top of each one of their heads, “or you’re going to hate getting up tomorrow.”
“We won’t,” the girls promise, mostly in unison and between gasps for air.
Josh says goodnight to each of his girls, then he and Donna exit the room followed closely by Sadie, who seems to have grown tired of all the noise. They’re almost to their bedroom when Josh turns to Donna. “Are they… bonding over making fun of us?”
“Appears so,” Donna says as they walk through the door. “Where did we go wrong?” She dramatically sinks down onto the bed, grinning at him as he sits down next to her.
“I’m not so sure we did,” he says. “I think we did okay, don’t you?”
Donna nods, biting her lip. “Yeah. I think we did, too.”
He leans forward for a kiss. Donna moves her hands to his cheeks, rubbing her thumbs across Josh’s scratchy beard as he scoots closer to her, slowly inching her toward the head of the bed. “Josh,” Donna warns, pulling away. “The girls.”
“Are thoroughly distracted,” Josh says, a mischievous grin on his face.
Donna sighs. “You are pretty hard to resist, especially after seeing all those old pictures.”
“Yeah?” he asks.
“I… we’ve talked about how I used to wonder if you felt the same way as I did,” Donna says, sitting back against the headboard. “But the way you looked at me in those pictures, it’s the same way you look at me now.”
Josh smiles. “Sorry it took me so long to figure it out.”
Donna raises her eyebrows. “You’re going to be making up for lost time for a few more decades, you’d better get used to it,” she murmurs against his lips before connecting for another kiss.
The Moss-Lyman girls, predictably, are walking zombies the next morning. They all sleep for the majority of the eight-hour drive to Manchester, Leah being the first to stir as they drive through Massachusetts. Her older sisters aren’t too far behind, though, and soon, Caroline is informing the family of the status of her Twitter notifications.
“Aunt CJ posted something last night,” Caroline explains. “It’s got four thousand retweets and sixteen thousand likes. Uncle Sam posted something this morning.”
“Sam posted something?” Josh asks, peeking at Caroline in the rearview mirror.
“‘I was a speechwriter for many years, and nothing I can say will effectively sum up Josh and Donna’,” Caroline reads. “‘The pictures you’re seeing can never capture what it’s like to be in the presence of a love like theirs. I’m lucky to have been a small part of their story.’ He added a picture in here, too.” She turns the phone to show Donna the photo, which is of the three of them at a fundraiser early in the Santos administration.
“Is that it?” Leah gasps, ready to launch herself out of her seat, clearly unimpressed by what’s on Caroline’s phone at the moment. “That’s the road to the farm, right?”
Leah is always the most excited for their trips to New Hampshire; she and Jed have an unbreakable bond. Jed’s health has declined in the last few years, considering that he’s nearly eighty years old and his MS has taken a toll on him, but Donna and Josh have privately wondered if seeing the girls (and all the kids of the former White House Senior Staff) has kept him young.
“Yeah, this is it,” Josh confirms.
They drive up the dirt road to the farm and park the car. Abbey is already waiting on the porch for them, so she rushes toward the car, wrapping Josh in a hug the second his feet hit the ground.
“You look good,” Abbey declares. “Donna must be keeping you in line.”
“She always does,” Josh agrees.
Abbey turns to her right as she lets go of Josh. “Caroline! God, I thought you were your mother! I love your hair!” Abbey reaches out and plays with Caroline’s blonde curls, newly accented with pink, purple, and blue peekaboo highlights.
“Thank you,” Caroline says. “My friend’s older sister did it. She owns her own salon.”
“And you,” Abbey says, wrapping Nora in a hug. “We have a new foal that needs to be named. Remind me to introduce you to her later.”
Donna watches Nora’s eyes light up as Abbey tells her this, and she can practically see her daughter’s ‘future veterinarian’ brain wheels turning, considering name possibilities before she even looks at the foal.
“Was anyone going to tell me that we had guests, or was I supposed to figure that out for myself?” Jed’s voice booms from the porch.
Leah runs up to Jed and he steadies himself on his cane, preparing himself for her hug. Donna’s heart swells just a little as she watches them greet each other. Leah escorts Jed off of the porch and toward the car, and Jed immediately stops in front of Donna.
“Donnatella,” he says, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “How are you doing?”
It’s the first thing he asks her every year, and yet somehow she’s always touched by his kindness. “I’m doing okay,” she answers. “I’m glad to be here.”
“We’re glad to have you,” Jed declares.
Jed and Abbey usher the Moss-Lyman family into the farmhouse. Zoey, Charlie, and their son Alex have already arrived, so Jed doesn’t allow anyone to settle before he moves them all toward the backyard with a declaration that he is going to start grilling. Josh, Donna, Zoey, Charlie, and Abbey take their seats on the deck as Jed starts up the grill.
They all spend a few minutes catching up as though they haven’t seen each other several times over the last few months. Zoey updates everyone about the latest happenings at the National Center for Youth Opportunity and Justice, while Charlie talks about being named guardian ad litem for children in a couple of different ongoing court cases. Donna updates them about the campaign and manages to successfully avoid any discussion of Vice Presidential picks.
Soon, Abbey disappears to the kitchen to bring some drinks out onto the deck. Josh reaches for Donna’s hand, his fingers intertwining with hers as they watch the girls and Alex play with Sadie and the Bartlets’ new dog, Teddy.
“Teddy keeps up pretty well for only having three legs,” Josh notes, watching as the beagle runs after a ball that Alex has thrown for him.
“Ah,” Jed starts with a wave of his hand. “I don’t think he even notices he’s missing one. Gets around better than me most days.”
“How’d you find him, anyway?” Charlie asks.
Jed looks at Donna, then at Josh. “You want to tell it, or should I?”
Zoey laughs. “I think Josh should tell it.”
“Hey, I think you’ve done enough damage these last few days,” Josh teases. “Can you lay off?”
Zoey rolls her eyes and folds her arms, clicking her tongue as she leans back in her chair. “I think I have plenty more where that came from, actually.”
“Well, since the two of you can’t stop bickering,” Jed starts, waving the spatula at Josh and Zoey, “I’ll tell it. I got an email from Nora a few weeks ago with a link to a rescue league in Salem. They were looking for a foster home for a three-legged beagle who needed lots of room to run around. Abbey had been bugging me about finding a new hobby, so we went to meet him.”
“Dad’s a softie,” Zoey says. “For both Nora and Teddy.”
Jed and Teddy have become fast friends, and it’s clear that Teddy was a welcome addition to the Bartlet family. But it’s still a little unbelievable that her daughters have such power over the former President of the United States. His office is full of the girls’ school photos and artwork alongside prestigious awards and proclamations. I’ll get rid of all these if I have to, he’d said once, pointing at photos with world leaders and various mementos of his Presidency.
“More where that came from?” Josh asks, finally comprehending what Zoey had declared a few moments prior. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that when Donna runs for Congress I’ll be sure to share more pictures if she needs a bump in numbers,” Zoey says.
Josh laughs. “Finally, she uses her powers for good instead of evil.”
“I don’t know why everyone’s saying I’m running for Congress,” Donna declares, adjusting her sunglasses. “I’ve got Sam’s campaign to focus on.”
“Well, what are your plans for after the campaign?” Charlie asks. “You’re not going to be Sam’s Chief of Staff. It could be an easy transition into another campaign.”
“I don’t have a plan yet, but I’ll come up with one,” Donna says.
“Zoey!” Abbey calls from the kitchen. “Come help me with these drinks, would you?”
Zoey stands up from the table and turns toward the door. “I’ll have plenty more photos for when you do run,” she calls over her shoulder as she steps inside.
Donna looks at Josh, who simply laughs. “I didn’t say anything to her!” he insists.
Alex climbs the stairs to the deck, stopping in front of Josh and Charlie. Josh drops Donna’s hand and reaches for Alex’s hat, lifting it off of Alex’s head. Alex laughs, reaching for the hat that Josh is holding just out of his reach.
“I can’t believe he’s already six,” Donna says to Charlie, watching as Josh teases Alex for a few more moments before returning his hat.
“I know,” Charlie says, grinning. “Zoey and I were talking about that the other day. He’s going into first grade next year.”
“A big year,” Donna says, remembering how excited the girls were going into their own first-grade years.
Alex grabs Charlie’s arm. “Leah and Nora said that you and Uncle Josh can set up the sprinklers,” he says, his mother’s smile poking out as he finishes his sentence. “Can you set them up for us?”
“Did you ask Grandpa Jed if he would mind if we set up the sprinklers?” Charlie asks.
Alex turns toward Jed, who doesn’t even give him a chance to answer. “Ah, go ahead. Let them have fun. We’ve even got our very own doctor onsite to help with any injuries.”
Josh stands up from his chair, clapping Charlie on the shoulder on the way by. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go.”
Charlie, Alex, and Josh head toward the yard, leaving Donna and Jed alone on the deck. Jed seems to notice the opening and swiftly takes it. “I saw Sam’s numbers this morning in the paper,” he starts. “Ten percent jump from last week. Must feel pretty good.”
Donna smiles. Of course, she’d been banned from reading the paper or checking any news sites, so she hadn’t heard about the bump in numbers. But it does feel pretty good nonetheless. “He’s had some good press lately,” Donna agrees.
“I’d imagine that you’ll also see a jump next week,” Jed muses, “given the stunt that Zoey pulled.”
“I hope it doesn’t have a negative impact, certainly,” Donna says. “I wouldn’t want to cause any issues.”
A moment of silence passes between them as Jed turns some burgers on the grill. Donna knows what’s coming now. She’s about to be on the receiving end of a patented Jed Bartlet Pep Talk, and she’s defenseless. For a second, she wonders if this was planned, but more than likely it’s just a perfect storm of distractions occurring all at once to facilitate it.
Jed leans against the railing, stuffing his hands in his pockets before he speaks. “You’re pretty adamant about not running for Congress,” he says. “I’m assuming you have your reasons.”
Donna nods. “You know better than anyone else what sacrifices we’ve all had to make,” she says, finally voicing the fears she’s had for some time. “Josh and the girls have already given up so much for me to run this campaign. I can’t turn around and ask them to do it again, indefinitely, run after run.”
Jed grabs his cane and walks over to the table, lowering himself into the chair that Josh was previously sitting in. “It was about fourteen years ago when you and Josh came to visit us for the weekend. You were expecting Caroline, and Abbey was off doctoring you to death somewhere. It was just me and Josh, out here on this very deck,” he starts, motioning around him. “I asked him one simple question: ‘how’s it going?’. And he told me everything. He had a lot of worries about becoming a father, about being enough for you and your growing family. I don’t remember everything he said that day, but there’s one thing I’ll never forget. Do you know what it was?”
“I don’t,” Donna admits.
“He said, ‘Donna’s career is just getting started, and I’ve held her back long enough.’ He told me he was going to step down as Chief of Staff,” Jed explains. “Now, of course, I know it’s much more complicated than that, but he’d made up his mind already, and nothing I said was going to stop him.”
Donna remembers that weekend pretty clearly - she remembers how tightly wound Josh was at the beginning when they arrived, and how something happened over the course of the weekend to lift whatever weight he was carrying off his shoulders. She’d always assumed it had something to do with impending fatherhood, and that Jed had told him whatever he needed to hear to help him be a little more at ease with all of it.
“My point is that the two of you are so worried about holding the other back, about asking the other to make sacrifices, when you’d do it for the other in a second if they simply asked,” he says, adding a snap of his fingers at the word ‘second’ for effect. “Neither of you would truly deny the other happiness. You couldn’t live with yourselves. In fact, it makes you happy to see the other happy.”
Donna laughs, shaking her head. “You’d think we’d have learned in the twenty-some years we’ve known each other,” she says.
“Ah, but you have,” Jed says. “Twenty-some years ago, Leo and I would sit and watch the two of you and wonder if you’d ever be honest with each other about how you felt. And now look where you are.”
Donna feels a twinge of sadness at the mention of Leo’s name, knowing how proud he’d be at how far Josh and Donna have come. She remembers her last conversations with Leo on the Santos-McGarry campaign trail, his quiet nudges and whispers. That’ll be you someday, kid, he’d said. Donna didn’t want to be President, she’d insisted. But Leo simply scoffed. Lotta things you can run for. Doesn’t have to be President.
“Do you want to run for Congress, Donna?” Jed asks.
She finds herself nodding without a second thought. “I want to run for Congress.”
“Congresswoman Moss has quite the ring to it,” Jed says. “I think you should. Between you and Sam and Joey Lucas…”
“Sam hasn’t announced his VP pick,” Donna hedges, despite knowing that she can’t pull a fast one on Jed Bartlet.
“Between you and Sam and Joey Lucas, I think this country’s in good hands.” Jed pats her hand and shifts his weight to stand up, slowly moving back toward the grill. “I can’t move to Wisconsin to vote for you, but I have a daughter I can offer who apparently has Twitter on her side.”
Donna laughs. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Jed says.
Donna looks at Jed, thinking of everything he’s done for their family, everything he’s done for their country. She feels compelled to do this in part for him and for Leo, to continue what they started. “I’ll do my best to make you proud,” she says, her voice shaky all of a sudden.
“You already have,” he insists.
Donna’s already started to doze off when Josh joins her in bed after his shower. He wraps his arm around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. She turns over in his arms, hooking her leg over his as he pulls her closer. “Thought you were asleep,” he says.
“I was dozing.” She plays with the hem of his t-shirt as he lets his hand rest at her hip.
“How ya doin’?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
Donna takes a moment to think about her answer. It’s been almost twenty years since Gaza, and she’s spent the majority of those years with Josh by her side, helping her through it. She’ll do the same for him come August, which Josh prefers to spend at home in D.C. Some years are easier than others, of course, but this year is one of the first she can recall feeling more content than anxious. What happened in Gaza will always be a part of her story, but she’s started many new chapters since then.
And she’s about to start another one.
“Good,” she says. “Really good.”
“Yeah?”
Donna takes a deep breath. “I’m going to run for Congress,” she says. “I’m not starting anything until after the --”
Josh cuts her off with an enthusiastic and passionate kiss, catching her off guard at first. But soon she melts into the kiss, returning it with the same energy. Josh is the one to break away, sitting up in bed and reaching for his phone. “I’m glad you agreed,” he says, “because I wanted to show you something.”
He taps his screen a few times before handing her the phone. She sits up next to him, reaching for her glasses and putting them on before she glances at the screen. When she sees it, she gasps. It’s a Zillow listing for a house in Wisconsin. “Josh,” she says, grabbing his arm. “This is…”
“I know,” he says, grinning.
“Josh, this was my dream house when I was a little girl,” she says, clutching the phone to her chest. “I saved up…”
“Four hundred dollars,” Josh finishes, laughing. “I know, you’ve told me this before.”
“It’s for sale?” she asks.
“It is,” Josh confirms. “Turns out the realtor is a good friend of your parents, and it only took mentioning your name to get her to agree to a virtual tour if we can’t make it out there. She said it hasn’t had a lot of activity, but I didn’t want you to…”
Donna locks the phone and straddles Josh, bracketing one of her legs on either side of him as she leans forward. “Later,” she says, capturing his lips with hers for another kiss.
Josh laughs against her lips. “Donna,” he says. “We should probably talk about this.”
“What’s there to talk about? I’m running for Congress, you’re buying me my dream house, we’re getting Sam Seaborn elected President, and I’m straddling you right now,” she says, taking off her glasses and placing them on the night table.
“Fair point,” Josh says, moving her hair aside and pressing a trail of kisses down her jaw toward her neck and collarbone.
It takes a moment for her brain to catch up with the events of the last forty-eight hours or so, but when it does, it hits her like a freight train. Every single moment of her life has come together to lead her here. She never thought it would be possible, but now she’s here, and she’s going to get Sam elected President of the United States, and then she’s going to run for Congress.
“Josh,” she says breathlessly.
He lets out a half-groan, half-laugh. “You just said you didn’t want to talk,” he points out.
“I just wanted to say thank you,” Donna says. “For… everything.”
She can tell that Josh knows exactly what she means because she can see the look in his eyes that he gets every August. No words can truly express what it feels like, but there’s comfort and security in knowing that they’ll continue to do this for each other for the rest of their lives.
“You’d do the same for me,” Josh says. “You already do, actually.”
Donna runs her hand through his hair, letting her mind wander for just a moment before she finds herself flipped over onto her back. “Josh!” she giggles.
“Shh,” Josh laughs. “I don’t need Zoey to tweet that Congresswoman Moss woke up the entire house on Memorial Day weekend.”
“Did you just call me Congresswoman? In bed?” Donna asks.
Josh raises his eyebrows. “I… I mean, I… I don’t have to if…”
“No, no, do it again,” Donna says. “I have to get used to it, after all.”
Josh rolls his eyes. “I should have known you’d be insufferable about this.”
“I learned from the best,” Donna says, grabbing Josh by the t-shirt and pulling him down on top of her.