Danny waited, unsure what to do. As the minutes ticked by, he heard the
toilet flush over and over. He was getting restless so he put the coffee
beans and the grinder away. Still no C.J. The toilet flushed a few more
times.
He was getting more worried but also didn't want to charge in and violate
C.J.'s privacy. Danny had to keep moving. He hung up her coat in the closet
and as an afterthought did the same with his. He folded the throw and
replaced it on the couch.
C.J. didn't reappear. Danny walked around the living room just for something
else to do. He checked out the view from the windows framing the fireplace,
Danny gave a quick glance at the items on the mantle and scanned the CDs
stored next to the entertainment armoire. The CDs were in alphabetical order
by musical category. It didn't surprise him.
"Time's up." His worry overcame his concern for her privacy. Danny moved
down the short hall and realized he was outside C.J.'s bedroom. Danny paused
in the doorway until he heard C.J. retching. "The Hell with what she says,
I'm needed.", he thought.
He walked quickly through the bedroom and had a quick flash of lace, lots of
pillows and pictures. Scents lingered in the air: C.J's perfume plus the
smell of vanilla and flowers.
Danny tapped on the bathroom door and then stepped right in. "I'm sorry C..J.
But I got worried about you."
C.J. paused between heaving and said, "I'm fine." This despite her make-up
smeared on her face, the skin under being pale and the fact she was hanging
on to the toilet bowl as if it were a life preserver.
"Whatever." Danny grabbed a washcloth and ran it under water. He wrung it
out and moved over to her. "Let's put this on the back of your neck."
"I guess the smell of the coffee did me in."
"As long as it wasn't my aftershave." Danny settled on the floor next to
her. "Let's get your jacket off."
C.J. let him help her out of it, she'd kicked off her shoes outside the
bathroom door. Another bout of vomiting prevented any more conversation.
Danny stayed silent but kept a hand on C.J.'s back. He felt helpless until
inspiration struck, he could do one small thing. He reached around and held
her hair back while she was bent over the bowl.
When that wave subsided, Danny got up to refresh the washcloth. C.J. looked
up and asked, "Danny, could you reach in that right hand drawer, please. I
need a clip to put my hair up."
He opened the drawer and laughed. "You'll have to be more specific C.J.
There are a bunch of hair things. I've never seen anything so neat in my
life. They're all sorted by size, style and color. I should've known."
She hissed, "Just grab something. I don't need your smart mouth."
"No." Danny put in quickly, "It was a compliment. I expected nothing less
especially after I saw your CDs all organized. I'll bet your spices are
alphabetized too."
His hands were busy while he talked: handing her a clip and then putting the
fresh damp cloth on her forehead. Danny also filled a glass of water and
told her, "Just swish this around, don't swallow it."
"Where'd you get such a good bedside manner, Dr. Concannon?", C.J. wondered.
"I hate to admit it but I got to be an expert on nausea and vomiting in
college. Did my graduate work in the subject when I was a younger but not
wiser reporter."
C.J. confided, "Whenever I find myself in this position, I wonder how anyone
can start being bulimic. It's such an awful feeling." She swished the water
and spit it out. "I'm so thirsty."
"Better not.", Danny cautioned. "Want a little toothpaste or mouthwash to
get the taste out of your mouth."
"Not yet, sorry. Probably not too pleasant to be close to me." C.J. slumped
over the bowl. "I'm so tired."
"Let me worry about how close I want to get to you." Danny put a folded
towel on the floor."Here put your head down. Go slow so you don't get too
dizzy. I'll be right back."
Danny headed back to the kitchen. He looked in the refrigerator and pulled
out bottles of Ginger Ale and 7-Up. He rummaged for glasses and then poured
some of each. Danny figured by the time they were flat and at room
temperature, C.J. might be able to handle something to drink.
As Danny shut the refrigerator door, he noticed two snapshots held by
magnets. They were White House Photographer shots, one of him with notebook
and pen in hand. He seemed to be listening intently. The other was of the
two of them. C.J. and Danny were facing each other and smiling. Both of the
shots had been taken in the Press Briefing Room on different days.
The sight of them puzzled but also cheered him. Danny wanted to ask C.J.
about the pictures. But then he might have to admit he’d charmed a few
pictures of her out of photographers. He had one propped up on his desk at
home, it was of her at the State Dinner. The other one in his dresser mirror
was snapped during a snowball fight on the White House lawn. C.J. didn't’t
need to know about them--yet.
Danny went over to the fireplace and lit it. The room felt cozier right
away. Then he went over to his travel bag and pulled a few things out of it.
It was nearly 11:00 P.M., he’d lost track of the time.
C.J. had lost track of time too. The bathroom floor felt cool to her. She
wondered how much longer Danny would hang around and put up with this. She
had to make an effort to get back to functioning.
She was picking herself up off the floor when he came back to the doorway..
C.J. had moved too fast and another wave of nausea drove her back to the
toilet bowl. Danny dropped what he was carrying and was right there beside
her.
When C.J. could speak, she apologized. “I was trying to get up. I decided I
was done being sick. My body disagreed with my mind.”
“You’re stubborn even now.”, Danny told her. “But I think you might be past
the worst of it. I poured you something to drink for when you’re up to it.”
C.J. summoned up a smile. “Thanks.” She noticed a pile of clothes on the
floor. “What do you have there?”
“Oh, a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and one of my T-shirts. You can get
into these and you’ll be more comfortable.”
She was touched by his gesture.”Are they ratty?”
“Not quite, but they’re old enough to be pretty soft.” He’d settled on the
floor with his back against the wall. “Come here.” Danny started to pull
C.J. to his shoulder.
“Wait, not yet. That’s a little too upright. And before I get that close,
I’d better grab the mouthwash.” C.J. rinsed out her mouth as Danny watched.
“Sure, take your time.”
C.J. finished and slowly moved to put her head on his leg. She was still
close to the toilet bowl if needed. They were quiet for a few minutes, Danny
stretched his arm out to put his hand on her hair. She broke the silence.
"Danny why did you have pajamas with you?"
"Come on, C.J., you know this business. You always have to have a bag ready
to go."
"So you're the pajamas type?"
"That's pretty personal, young lady." There was laughter in his tone.
"Oh, my mistake. Except you're sitting on my bathroom floor, we're in a
semi-intimate position, you've watched me recycle everything I've ever
eaten. I think we've broken new ground."
"Well, I want to leave some mystery. Let's just say C.J. that on the road I
am always well dressed at bedtime. I've learned from those tales of sleepy
reporters taking a wrong turn on the way to the bathroom and ending up naked
in the hallway outside their hotel room."
"Or on a balcony that faces the inside of the hotel." C.J. added.
"Yep, I carry a night light for those reasons too. Boy Scout motto, be
prepared."
"I won't ask what else you're prepared for."
Danny changed the subject. "Think you're ready to sit up a bit higher?"
"Let's try." C.J. gingerly sat up. She moved to rest her head on his
shoulder.
He was anxious about her. "Feeling dizzy?"
"Not now, just tired."
"I can see that." Again there was silence, but a comfortable one. She had
her hand nestled on Danny's chest. He was holding C.J. close and stirred
enough to say, "Well, I wanted to see your place and I've imagined getting
you on the floor. I confess, I pictured it a little differently."
She gave a weak laugh. "If I'd had a chance to eat those wicked looking
chocolates you brought me, I might be suspicious about my illness and your
motives. You're off the hook for now."
"Glad to hear it. Are you comfortable?"
"Yes, I feel a little less light headed. I'd like to try and get up so I can
change out of these clothes."
"You sure? I can just keep holding you for the next hundred years or so."
Danny tightened his grip.
"As lovely as that sounds. I think it's a bit impractical. I'm sure you'll
be more comfortable on something with a little more padding." With that,
C.J. sat up.
Danny got up and helped her to her feet. "How's that? Is the room spinning?"
C.J. said, "So far, so good. If you'll excuse me."
He left the bathroom and closed the bedroom door as he crossed back into the
hall. Danny waited a minute, just to be sure he didn't hear the thump of a
fainting C.J. hitting the floor.
Nothing happened so he went back to the living room. Danny noticed it was
almost midnight. "Time to relax", he thought. He checked the fire in the
fireplace and then crossed over to the stereo. He hit the switch and the
sound of classical music filled the room. It wasn't anything Danny
recognized but it sounded lush and restful. He looked around for a clue to
the title like a CD case.
"Nice choice, it's the 'Brook Green Suite' by Gustav Holst." Danny turned at
the sound of C.J.'s voice. His heart skipped a beat, one of the most elegant
women in the country was wearing his white T-shirt and flannel pajama
bottoms. It was a great sight.
Her hair was pinned up and she had a terry cloth robe over Danny's clothes.
He noticed she'd scrubbed off all the smeared make-up. C.J. looked washed
out but she was still standing. "You look like you're 12 years old.", he
told her.
C.J. grimaced. "Thanks for the loan. I hope you don't mind. I added a few
accessories."
“You look great, better than I ever did in that outfit.” Danny moved toward
her, “Over here, you need to sit down.”
“I think I’d like to try something to drink. I’m really thirsty, guess
that’s a good sign.”
“I’ll get it for you, let's try the Ginger Ale. Park it.” Danny guided her
over to the couch. When she was settled, he covered her with a throw.
“If you offer to plump the pillows, you’re out of here.” C.J. rewarded him
with a smile. “I’m not an invalid.”
“Got it.” Danny moved to the kitchen and brought back the glass. “You sure
you want to attempt this?”
“Yeah, I’ve already had the dry heaves. If I’m going to be sick again, at
least there’ll be something in my stomach.”
“Good point.”
C.J. sipped her drink and closed her eyes. “Tastes like nectar of the gods.
The fire feels wonderful too." She opened her eyes to look at him. “Why did
you choose this piece of music?”
Danny was on the chair facing her. “I’d like to offer you a deep analysis of
the contrasting themes, chordal structures and rhythmic meters. But, it was
the one already in the CD player.”
“That works too. Did you get yourself something to eat?”
“I will when I need to. Stop playing hostess.”
”Alright.”
“Play tour guide instead.”
“Tour guide?”
“Yeah, around the apartment.”
“O-kay,” C.J. dragged the word out because she was confused.
Danny saw the confusion. “No, don’t get up. Just point.”
“I can manage that. Down the hall that way," she pointed to the left, “are a
guest room, a bathroom and a den. Back that way as you can see is the dining
room. You’ve seen the kitchen, my bedroom and bathroom. Tour over.”
“Nice but I wanted something more personal.”
“How personal?”
“Tell me about this picture.” Danny pointed to the sofa table. In a simple
frame with a mat around it, there was a photograph of C.J. Cregg and Abigail
Bartlet. “I like it.”
C.J. looked at it and smiled. “Me, too. It was taken during the campaign.
Mrs. Bartlet stepped in at the last minute to do a Southern swing. Of course
as you know, she charmed everyone just like she always does.”
Danny the reporter probed for more. “But this isn’t a typical posed shot.”
It wasn't. The two women had their heads close together and they were
laughing.
“No, we were surprised when we saw it on the contact sheet. The President,
well Governor then, told us we were too old to be giggling like school girls
and that nobody’s allowed to have that much fun campaigning.”
“That didn't’t stop Mrs. Bartlet.”
“Nope, she had two copies made. I was thrilled when she presented me with
mine.”
“Where’s the other one C.J.?”
“In her White House Sitting Room.”
“I can see why you cherish it.”
Danny had already noticed it was signed by Abigail Bartlet. It read,
“C.J.—the laughs on the trail are too few. Thanks for sharing this one with
me and for all you’ve done. With love, Abbey.”
That held their attention as they fell silent. But the lack of conversation
was't uncomfortable; it seemed right to let the music dominate the room.
Danny looked over and noticed C.J. was half asleep. “Hey, C.J.” He spoke
softly, “Let’s get you to bed.”
“Okay, I won't argue.” She started to get up.
Danny moved to her side. “That’s a first, no argument. Feeling okay after
the Ginger Ale?”
“So far it’s staying down. That’s progress.”
Danny helped her up and walked her down the hall with a supporting arm
around her. He stopped at the bedroom door and advised, "Just pull up the
covers and forget the world exists."
“I’ll try. But I won’t forget you exist and all that you’ve done for me
tonight. Good Night.” They looked at each other and then Danny gently pushed
her toward the bed. He closed the door and walked away.
Back in the living room Danny turned down the music and tended the dying
fire. He straightened things up and looked at his watch. He was surprised to
see it was 1:00 A.M. But he knew he wasn't leaving yet. Danny wanted to be
there in case C.J. needed him again.
He also needed food. He hit the kitchen and found crackers, then cheese and
fruit. One more thing, Danny made himself a stiff drink. It had been a long
week. After he ate, he refreshed the drink and kept an ear out for C.J. He
hadn't heard signs of trouble like her moving around or the toilet flushing.
Good omens.
He restlessly walked around the apartment. The display of pictures on the
mantle halted his prowling. The framed photos caught his eye. There was one
taken on the morning of the Election at the Bartlet family farm. Josiah
Bartlet sat on the front porch steps with C.J. and Mandy on either side.
Josh, Toby, Sam and Leo were clustered around. Everyone dressed casually and
smiling.
There was an inscription. “C.J., no matter what the morrow brings, your
gifts of time, talent and friendship will never be forgotten. It’s been a
great ride. With affection, Jed Bartlet.”
Also on the mantle, a formal photograph of the West Wing staff at one of the
Inaugural Balls. No Mandy in this picture. Just C.J. in a sleek, navy beaded
gown surrounded by her male cohorts in white tie and tails.
Danny remembered literally bumping into C.J. that night as he left to file
his story. She was heading back to get her wrap and leave. They offered each
other polite apologies and he caught the scent of her perfume, an olfactory
memory that never left him.
He took another sip of his drink as he looked at a double frame with more
formal pictures. There was one of the President taking the Oath of Office
with his wife holding the family Bible. The other half of the frame held a
picture taken at the Official Inaugural Ball. The President in white tie and
tails flanked by the First Lady in that vibrant red gown that generated lots
of buzz, on his other side, C.J. in the navy gown. This one was
personalized too. “Not only brains and beauty around me, but we look so
patriotic. Three cheers for this red, white and blue. President Josiah
Bartlet.”
Danny held up his glass in a silent toast to the pictures, his eyes zeroed
in on C.J.