CJ cursed her luck when she checked her watch to find she was
half an hour late to the party and she wasn't even out the door yet. The ways in which she was not in the
mood for this were numerous. Even Sam and Toby had left fifteen minutes before. They had offered to
wait for her, but before she could head out with them, Carol had brought her something from the wire. Rochester
was getting bold and he was encouraging his posse to spout off at the mouth too. He seemed to think that this White
House couldn't touch him. Free speech, he shouted at the top of his lungs. Free speech is one thing, slander
is another. They were so gonna have his ass.
She reached for the phone and called the house, praying that
the cooking hadn't started yet. That was the best part. They'd traipse around the kitchen like a well-oiled machine,
passing ingredients, washing pots and pans, and setting the table. It reminded her of her family when she was a little
kid, before her stepmothers and stepsisters; back when she was the only sister and all the other girls were cousins.
"Bartlet Residence." It was Sam. She swore silently.
Sam "Rip van Winkle" Seaborn had beaten her to the party. She was upset now.
"Sam, it's CJ. Has the fun started yet?"
"Not yet, Charlie went to the store for some ingredients.
What are you still doing at the office?" She seethed silently. "Don't tell me. Rochester."
"And company. They whole lot of them have opinions now.
They're targeting us."
"You need us to come back in?"
"No, we'll talk about it after dinner. If I can just get
me and Carol out the door. Are we gonna be the last ones?"
"CJ, Carol's here already." There was a ruckus in the background.
"Never mind. She's not here."
"Damn it. I'm gonna be last. That means I'm gonna
have to wash the dishes."
"Not if you beat the First Lady. She's not here yet."
"Good. I'll leave it to her. She's the domesticated
homemaker."
"You rang for the domesticated homemaker?" CJ dropped the
phone and looked up to see the woman in question leaning casually against the doorframe, glowing from her Roman holiday.
"Dr. McGarry, hey. Welcome home."
"Thank you, CJ. Is that Sam?"
"Yeah. Sam, say hi the First Lady." She held the
phone up.
"Welcome home, Dr. McGarry."
"Abbey, Sam. Call me Abbey. This is off time."
"Yes, ma'am. Are you heading over tonight?"
"You bet your ass. Am I slotted for dish duty?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"I'm sure I can count on your help at the end of the evening,
can't I Sam?" There was a pregnant pause as he debated with himself. "Sam. Can I count on your
help?"
He gave a resigned sigh. "Yes, ma'am." She grinned
to CJ, who gave her the thumbs up sign.
"Thank you. See you in a little while." CJ hung up
and offered Abbey a high five. "Sometimes, I feel guilty for manipulating the boys that way."
"Only sometimes though, right?"
"Right. Now, what are you still doing here? You're
usually the first out the door. Everyone else is already gone."
CJ sighed miserably. "There's some stupidity happening
in Congress and it just got a whole lot worse, because they've posse'd up. It's gonna be hell to deal with." Only
Abbey didn't know what kind of hell just yet.
"This evening?"
"Tomorrow."
"Then, don't worry about it. There's a dinner party with
our name on it." She paused to look at CJ's outfit. She was still in her day clothes. "Are you wearing that?"
"I was supposed to change earlier, but I ran out of time."
"You can change now, in the car, or wait until we get to Jed's.
Either way, make up your mind so we can go. You're riding with me."
"You’re a bit bossy, ma'am."
"I'm the First Lady, I came by it earnestly."
"Of course."
By the time black Crown Victoria
pulled up outside Jed's, both ladies were dressed to perfection for an evening of enjoyment. The First Lady was wearing
a dove gray sundress that reached just to her knees and clung to her by slim spaghetti straps. Her feet were barely
concealed in a pair of three-inch strappy heels of the same color and violet-painted toenails. Her hair hung in dark
ringlets that flowed down past her shoulders and blew in the lackadaisical breeze. Her light shawl hung
diagonally across her shoulder.
CJ was dressed in a similar but contrasting
fashion. Her hair was swept back in a ponytail, showcasing her slender neck and shoulders. She wore a maroon wrap
fastened with a broach she'd bought at Nordstrom's to ward off the evening chill. Beneath it, she wore a lovely
square-neck linen ballet top the color of new fallen snow. The three-fourth quarter sleeves presented her alabaster
skin as nicely as her sculpted upper physique. In conjunction, she wore a flowing skirt that wrapped about her hips
shamelessly and swished around her endless legs. She had dared to wear the open-toed, three-inch Jimmy Choo's she'd
fallen madly in love with that just happened to match her wrap. This evening she would tower over others by far.
She could live with that.
She and Abbey linked arms and followed
her agents to Jed's door. They liked to make an entrance.
The knock came while Jed
while was deep into a game of Tickle Monster with Kelsey. She was red-faced and laughing. Realizing no one else
was available to get the door; he swept her up into his arms and went to the foyer. He opened the door, and stopped
short for lack of breath. He'd be damned.
"Claudia Jean. Abigail."
His porch lights shown down onto their hair and gave them a heavenly glow.
"Good evening, Jed. You gonna
let us in?" Abbey liked to play him like this. She liked to think he forgot how attractive she was and she'd do
something like this to remind him. This time, she'd brought a friend.
"Yeah. Come on in. You're
just in time. Charlie just got back from the store. Everybody's in the kitchen." The requisite agents came
by and Jed patted each on the back by way of greeting. They were always welcomed in his home. CJ and Abbey walked
in and brought a little more light to the room. "May I take your wraps, ladies? I assure you, you won't need them
in here."
They handed them to him to hang up
and Abbey took Kelsey off his hands. She cuddled the fair-haired toddler and showered her with the same attention
she'd been receiving all evening. She'd been passed from staffer to staffer, stopping briefly with her mother and cousins
before being handed back to her granduncle Jed.
Zoey stuck her head out into the
foyer. "Dad, the masses are getting testy. They wanna cook. I was democratically elected to come out here
and tell you to get this show on the road."
He held his hands out to his newest
guests. "Ladies, you heard her. You ready to cook?"
They shared a look. "Let's
party."
He grinned and led the way through
the living room. "Now we're cooking with gas."
They arrived to find the various
members of the White House staff arguing over who would do what. Josh wanted to cut the onions, but Donna was insisting
that he do something else in case he made himself cry, either from cutting himself or from the fumes. She didn't want
the trouble either way.
Toby had taken a firm place in front
of the sink. For some odd reason, he enjoyed washing the vegetables. Normally, they left him to it, but April
seemed determined to argue him down. She wanted to wash them now. Toby was a chief debater, but she was surprisingly
holding her own.
Sam was rifling through the cupboards
for his spices. No one touched his oregano or his cumen. He'd gotten violent over lesser things.
Zoey and Charlie were going through
the cookbooks to try to decide what would constitute tonight's meal.
Deena Young, Denise McGarry, and
Mrs. Landingham were huddled over a list of ingredients for dessert. That was always left to them, the bakers.
Carol, Bonnie, Margaret, and Ginger
were checking off the stuff Charlie had bought: Bowtie pasta, tomatoes, garlic, basil, French bread -- They high-fived.
They loved French bread. -- Feta cheese, lettuce, carrots, celery, onions, red and green peppers, and chicken breast.
There were also various little extras they'd asked him to pick up for later. Wine, chocolate, milk, strawberries,
apples, blueberries, and cherries. They had a tendency to go all out on cook night.
Jed, CJ, and Abbey looked around
in awe of this community they'd formed in such a short time. He swept his arm out chivalrously. "Ladies, take
your stations." He clapped to get the room's attention. "With arrival of our final guests --" A rushed crash sounded from the other room, cutting
off his commencement speech. "What the hell?"
They lot of them left the kitchen
to see the Secret Service agents aiming their guns at the prone form of LJ Bartlet. He looked up embarrassedly.
This happened to him far too often.
Jed softened his stern expression
at his son's dismay. "LJ," he sighed, only half-heartedly upset. "You're late."
"I know. I lost track of time."
He took his father's offer to help him up. "I was talking to my economics professor after class and we just kinda got
swept up. Sorry, Dad."
"Don't worry about it. It happens
to me all the time. Now, get in the kitchen. We're getting started."
They finally all got into place,
LJ near the China cabinet to count out the dinnerware and set the table.
"Now as I was saying before I was
so abruptly interrupted." LJ blushed but kept his father's eyes. "With the arrival of our final guests, let's
get started." They didn't need anymore instruction than that.
April and Toby began, with CJ's supervision,
to wash the vegetables and hand them off for chopping with Abbey and Jed. Josh was allowed to cut the carrots under
Donna's watchful eye. Conversation ran amok around the kitchen as the cookbook was passed around for a vote.
There was a vegetarian and several women on a diet to consider tonight.
They finally agreed on Fettuccini
Primavera for dinner with fruit and Caesar salad, with French bread.
"Denise, is the oven on, honey?"
"Hold on, let me look." She
checked the dials. "It is now."
"Josh -- no, Donna, can you warm
up the saucepan? Sam, I think that's your cue." He took his place before the stove possessively and laid out his
kit of sage, rosemary, and thyme. He was with food the way he was with words: imaginative and a craftsman. He
could bring dignataries to their knees given the right opportunity; he could boggle the mind with imagery and put them
to bed with a good meal. Tonight, he would serve them, his friends and closest family. They were his number
one fans.
Donna and Josh cautiously nudged
the cutting board of minced vegetables his way. He would take care of this. Finding themselves without anything
to do, Josh and Donna decided to take Kelsey to the backyard.
"Jay, we're gonna take Kelsey outside
to play on the swingset. That okay?" He nodded from where he was deep in conversation with Abbey over some inane
piece of minutiae that never failed to fascinate him. "April?" She looked away from her staring contest with Toby.
"That's cool." She waved to
her daughter and blew her a kiss. "See you later, Kels-Kels." She grinned and puckered her raspberry lips back.
They went through the family room
to the deck overlooking the backyard. "Look at that playground, sweetheart. You are so lucky you have an uncle
that loves you so much." She only rubbed her face into Donna's neck affectionately. "You are very sweet, baby."
Josh smiled at the vision of Donna
holding Kelsey close in her arms. The child looked so similar to her with her flaxen hair and humourous blue eyes, that
if he let himself forget where they were he could be convinced that Kelsey belonged to her, to them maybe. His
smile then began to fade because he couldn't forget where they were or who they were. Kelsey didn't belong to Donna
and certainly not to them. This wasn't their home though it had come to feel as much. The vision wasn't real, but for a moment, it was nice.
"Hey, get in the swing with her.
I'll push you." She looked upon his suspiciously and unconsciously held the girl closer. "Don't worry. No
tricks. Go ahead, I'll be gentle."
"Okay." She walk down the short
set of stairs and sat in the little yellow swing of the wooden playset.
He walked up behind them. "You two ready?"
She tightened her arm around Kelsey and grasped one of the ropes with a white fist. "Yeah, we're ready."
He laid his palms on her back and pushed with deliberate care. He didn't want to knock her off.
Instead of falling, she went swung forward a bit and came back to him. He pushed her again and was rewarded
with a delighted squeal from Kelsey. He'd done something right today.
"You enjoying yourself, sweetie? Me, too." He kept each push strong and steady until Donna's feet arced
up three feet off the prickly grass. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Denise stick her head out the sliding doors
and motion them in. The food must be close to being done.
"Donna, the food's almost ready. I'm gonna catch you, okay?"
"Okay." She sounded worried again. He rolled his eyes, exasperatedly. Ye of little faith. She
swung forward without him once more and then he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. Her heels knocked against
his shins, but she came to a stop, a full safe stop.
They remained that way as she set her feet on the ground again. She didn't try to pull away.
"Josh, Donna. Bring Kelsey in. It's getting cold out and Sam's almost finished." The spell was broken
and he let her go.
But he'd always have that vision.
