Chapter Text
“I guess I don’t understand why you’re coming back on Christmas Day.” The receiver was jammed under his ear and he was watching the news on mute. The subtitles were several seconds behind, so it appeared like the pretty news reporter outside of the White House was talking about the benefits of Alka-Selzer ( Amazingly fast heartburn relief! ).
“Because you know the day after Christmas, it’s a nightmare for travel. I don’t want to get delayed and stuck in Chicago forever. Plus, with the transition and the inauguration—"
“You want to be in DC.”
“I want to be in D.C. Is that so bad? Is that terrible? I mean it’s one Christmas. They said they would come to me next year.”
“No, it’s not terrible. I just don’t want your wholesome midwestern parents thinking that I’m some sort of Ebenezer Scrooge, forcing you to return to work instead of going to midnight mass.”
“I haven't been to midnight mass since I was 12.”
“I know--the year you told the priest it would have taken the wise men years to travel that far.”
The subtitles move on the subject of the incoming Barlett White House. Josh holds his breath. The inauguration, he just wants to get them through the inauguration without some forsaken headline. They don’t have a mandate and they’re hanging onto public opinion with their teeth. He wants to make it through to January without some dust up on Bible choice, or what designer Abby is going to wear. Just past the inauguration and then it will be good, clean sailing for their first hundred days. All policy from then on out.
There’s a whole five minutes of silence on both sides of the line. Then Josh can hear Donna let out an exhale as the subtitles move on to perfume, twenty seconds after the picture does.
“I think we’re in the clear,” She mutters from Wisconsin. If they’re going to talk about the incoming administration, they’ll stick it in the first part of the broadcast. “What were you watching?”
“ABC.”
“My parents do CBS.” She admits.
The knot in Josh’s chest loosens a notch. Between them they’ve got half of the major networks covered, which is unnecessary, because even though CJ’s in Michigan for the holiday weekend, she’s the general of an army of press aides stationed just down the hall and paid to keep on top of this exact situation.
It’s hard to let go of the do everything and more yourself campaign attitude. Him and Donna against the world.
“Seriously, Donna. Nothing is happening here until at least noon on the 26th, just fly out early. Stay with your family.”
“Josh, I know exactly how much work happens when you and Toby are doing nothing. Tell me, what time is Sam getting in?”
“His train gets in at eight on the 26th. But that’s from New York, it’s different. And there are a million assistants here, Donna. I can get anyone to do my notes.”
There’s a long pause. Josh can hear her shuffling on the other side of the phone. One more second, Mom. In a minute. And he hangs on, waiting for her to say she’s got to go.
But she doesn’t hang up and the silence stretches longer, until he’s picturing her in the kitchen hallway at her parent’s house, that little half frown of hers boring into the wallpaper that hasn’t been updated since she was in high school. He hadn’t called to make her feel bad. He was trying to get her to stay for Christmas, damnit.
Finally, “Josh, I’ve got to go. My nephew’s in this pageant thing and we—"
“Hang on, a pageant? A real honest Christmas pageant?”
“See, this is why I didn’t tell you what I was up to at home, because you make a joke out of everything.”
“I’m not making a joke. I promise, okay? I’m just starved for holiday cheer. I didn’t even get Hanukah this year, remember? And it looks like I’m spending New Years with Toby. What part is your nephew?”
“He’s a shepherd.”
Josh whistled through his teeth, “That’s a pretty big part, isn’t it? You must be proud.”
“No, not that shepherd. A different shepherd.”
“Okay, gotta confess, I’m not familiar with all the shepherds in that story.”
“There are a lot of kids in his class, so there are a lot of shepherds.”
“A bonus shepherd. Guess it’s better than barnyard animal number six.”
A long pause. He can hear the sound of the house quieting behind her. She’s still tangled up with the kitchen phone, everyone else piling into their cars.
“Donna, what I said about assistants-"
“Josh, it’s fine. I’ve really got to go.”
“What I meant is that you deserve time off. Sam’s off; CJ’s off. You don’t need to rush back.”
“It’s okay, Josh. I know what you meant.” She is talking so quietly now that Josh has to jam the receiver into his ear to hear. “Anyways, the less time I spend here, the fewer opportunities to have chance run-ins in the grocery store.”
“Freeride.” He guesses.
“Yeah, a little bit.”
“So you’re out on the 25th.”
“My family’s gonna do something big on Christmas Eve, but yeah. I get in at seven.”
And then there’s the swinging of a door—a garage door he imagines, squeaky on its hinges and letting cold air in. Someone calling her name and Donna numbles her goodbyes into the phone. Then she’s gone and Josh is alone, just him and his subtitles in an empty hotel room.
**
The sign’s pretty shitty—a Hilton notepad with MOSS scrawled on it, inked over several times in pen so the lines are thicker. But it’s the gesture that counts, he tells himself. And he’s standing in Dulles arrivals on Christmas, holding the notepad up and shifting from foot to foot as he waits for her to come from the gate.
Toby’s sitting in the idling car outside, persuaded to come after three solid hours of staring at the inaugural address. He snapped his fourth hotel pen, and looking at his ink covered fingers said, “Oh, well, fuck it.”
Donna comes through the gate half submerged in luggage. When she sees Josh her face splits into a smile, furrowed a little in the middle and she starts shaking her head.
“You didn’t have to-"
He grabs the biggest of the bags from her, “It’s Christmas, Donna.”
He’s got a crick in his neck already, carrying her stuff from baggage claim number three to the car. But he’s smiling and Donna is too. The airport’s not so bad at Christmas—standards pumping through the speaker and anemic strands of tinsel tacked up against the Delta counter.
Toby’s scribbling furiously in the passenger seat, using the margins of his copy of The Washington Post.
“Happy holidays, Toby.”
He grunts a greeting in response, not looking up as she piles into the backseat, and continues to make pen marks in the margins.
“So you’re headed to—wait, one second, I’ve got the address in my pocket…”
“I’m not dropping you off at an empty apartment, Donna.”
“I told you, my landlady’s letting me move in early.”
“It’s Christmas, you’re staying at the Hilton with the rest of the transition team.”
“Your headlights aren’t on, Josh.” A click. “And the Hilton’s essential staff only.”
“Donna, you’re here on the 25th of December. That’s—that’s essential.”
“It’s Christmas for chrissakes, Donna!” Toby flicks the pen in frustration and Donna shuts up.
Josh’s eyes meet Donna’s in the review mirror, and she presses her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing.
**
Later, they enjoy all the hospitality the downtown Hilton has to offer.
(Toby has everything necessary to make a gin martini in his room.) (Josh fills the ice bucket.)
It’s not the best Christmas dinner Donna has ever had, but it’s far from the worst.
(They order Chinese food. Josh swaps fortunes with her.)
Years later, the sight of Christmas lights in the downtown Hilton will make her inexplicably sad. But when her mom calls her the next day, she says honestly that working on Christmas isn’t so bad.