See Disclaimers in part 1
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Full Disclosure 2/2
By Lacy
At this moment I realize why Bristol Wallace is so good at her job.
She looks at me and smiles. She knows that my use of the word
'partner' is something she could use against me. A lesser reporter
would have, but instead she decides not to read anything
inappropriate into it. Or if she does, she's decided against calling
me on it.
I look over at CJ standing in the corner by the doors, who gives me
the 'you're doing fine' signal, so I think I'm okay.
"So, do you feel as though you're able to make a political
contribution?"
I honestly don't know how to answer this question.
"You have to understand, Bristol, that I'm surrounded every day by
people who've forgotten more about politics and government than I've
ever learned. Which is really saying a lot. My contributions to the
White House platform are small ones, at best. But Josh and the rest
of the senior staff listen to my ideas. Does that answer your
question?" I ask.
"Yes, Donna. Thank you," she says. "How has your relationship with
Josh changed over the years?"
I take a breath to think about it. You know, I've always thought it
best to not analyze my relationship with Josh. I've always believed
that the less thought I put into it the safer we would be.
"I stopped being intimidated by him," I say to begin. "For a long
time we worked long hours in some pretty close quarters. We got to
know each other -- we became friends. I trusted him enough to tell
him about myself and he did the same with me."
"What kinds if things did you talk about?"
"Past relationships, our childhoods, our hopes for the future -- that
sort of thing." I pause. The hot lights shining down on me are
causing a slight film of perspiration on my face. "The things that
build any relationship, I suppose."
Catherine steps forward to blot my face with a tissue and powders my
forehead gently with the puff. I know that this moment, caught on
tape, will be edited out later by the technicians.
"Can you give us a glimpse of what is that you do for Deputy Chief of
Staff as his assistant?"
"I research. I help prep him for meetings. I keep him organized and
running on schedule."
"Do you bring him coffee?" she asks with a grin.
I laugh at this. "Who have you been talking to?"
"I can't reveal my sources, Donna. You know that."
"Josh has two hands, he can get his own coffee." Her question has
brought a smile to my face and eased the tension in my stomach.
"Even now?"
"Especially now," I respond.
"Josh Lyman has often been described using the following words:
'hostile', 'arrogant', and 'confrontational'. How have these
personality quirks affected the way you work together?"
"Josh can get hostile when people try to play him, as I'm sure you
know, Bristol." When I say this, she drops her chin to her neck
hiding her laughter. She's realized that Josh told me every single
word of their conversation the other night. When she looks up, I'm
surprised to see respect for me reflected in her eyes. "As for
arrogant, keeping his feet on the ground is one of the perks of my
job. Everyone, including Josh, counts on me to be there to bring him
down a notch or two when he needs it. And it's true that he can be
confrontational when he feels that his opinions aren't being taken
seriously. But never doubt that he's very good at his job, in fact,
all of these 'quirks' can be used to describe most of the people in
this city. As to how it's affected our working together, I would
have to say, his personal quirks put a little unpredictability into
an otherwise smoothly running relationship. It makes coming to work
every morning more exciting."
"Prior to the point when you both decided to make your relationship
official, were you very close?"
At this point, beyond the lights, I see one of the Mural Room doors
open unobtrusively, and Josh slip quietly in. He heads stealthily
over to CJ, unnoticed by the others in the room. I can tell that he
asks CJ how it's going, and then looks over at me and smile. I smile
back, hoping that I can keep from alerting Bristol to his presence.
"We knew just about everything about each other. I'd say we were
close," I answer.
Bristol sends a nearly invisible signal to the cameraman covering me,
and he moves in for a tighter close up.
"Last year, Josh was critically injured in an attempted assassination
which, we now know, was aimed at the First Daughter and her boyfriend
Charlie Young. Let's talk about how you were affected by the
shooting."
I stiffen at her mention of Josh's injury. I don't think I will ever
get used to talking about it. I could never discuss that night as
though it were something from which I could easily recover. I
consider asking Bristol to turn off the cameras, but I know that this
is the moment of truth. This is what the paying customers want to
see. They want to know if poor Donna was waiting and mourning as
Josh Lyman endured a bullet wound and fourteen hours of surgery.
I look past Bristol to see that Josh has stepped forward, alerting
the cameraman in front of her that he's here. He signals to her and
she, understanding, nods.
"Donna, I can tell that the mention of the shooting has a deep
emotional impact for you. Would you mind talking about it?"
"Okay," I whisper, my throat growing tighter by the second. I reach
for the glass of water on the desk and take a sip just to dampen my
drying mouth. Josh stands behind Bristol and I can see that he wants
to protect me from this -- or comfort me through it.
"Were you there that night?"
"No, I was at home, when I heard about the shooting. I was listening
to the radio, when they broke in with a special announcement."
"What did you do?"
"I went to the hospital. I left my house in such a rush that I
forgot my security badge. Once I was there I had to find an agent
who knew me to let me in the door. I was so worried that President
Bartlet had been killed, and the news wasn't giving out any
information, yet."
"So, you were worried about President Bartlet, not Josh?"
"It never occurred to me that Josh would be wounded. My mind
couldn't conceive of such a thing."
"How did you find out that Josh had, in fact been injured?"
"Toby Ziegler told me. I went to the waiting room, and he told me."
I look past Bristol again and catch Josh's eyes. The horror, and
utter hopelessness I felt that night all come back in a rush. My
eyes surge, with unshed tears, until they gradually overflow and drop
down my cheeks.
Bristol Wallace has succeeded in finding my weak spot. I don't know
why I'm so surprised, I mean, it's not as if everyone didn't know
that memories of the shooting were my Achilles heel. Anyone with
working eyes can see that. I reach for a tissue on the end table and
wipe the tears from my face.
"Can you tell us what the mood was like that night at the hospital?"
"It was somber," I answer. "I was suffocating in everyone's
somberness. Even my own. I tried to prepare myself for that moment
when the surgeon would come out and say 'I'm sorry, we did everything
we could.'"
"How did you do that? Prepare yourself?"
"I...I--" I'm choking on the words in my throat. The words I want
to admit, even if it means doing it on national television. Josh
moves from where he's standing to where I can get a better view of
him beyond the lights. He leans up against the wall crossing his
arms, his eyes never leaving mine
"Donna?" My gaze shifts over to Bristol.
"Do you want to stop, Donna?"
"It's okay," I hear myself saying.
Despite my tears I have managed to hang on to my control and my
dignity. I'm strangely proud of that. I've been able to get through
her tougher questions without having an emotional breakdown. It's a
miracle, considering that only a few weeks ago these questions would
have sent me into a tailspin. I'm mentally thanking God for Dr.
Wilborn and her psychological evaluation -- not to mention the
lorezepam Josh reminded me to take this afternoon.
"Shall we go on?" Bristol asks. "How did you prepare yourself,
Donna?"
"I did it by telling myself that I didn't love him." I answer. I
can't help looking over at him. His eyes close for a moment before
he seeks me out again. I have to wipe more tears from my cheeks. "I
tried to tell myself that I wasn't going to miss his smile. That I
wasn't going miss having someone around who knows me as well as he
does."
"Thank you, Donna," Bristol whispers. "How much of a role did the
shooting play in changing your relationship?"
I close my eyes and allow myself a cleansing moment, before I speak.
"At first, the changes were, I think, cosmetic. They were gradual.
I helped him through his physical recovery much the same way as I do
at work. I tried to be there for him even during the most
excruciating moments. Sometimes, I think he wanted to push me
away."
I glance over at him expecting to see eyes that tell me I've said too
much. Instead, he's listening to me as though he's never heard the
story before. His chin is lowered a degree and he's looking at me
with his eyebrows raised.
"Donna? You were recently released from the hospital. Is that
correct?"
This gets my attention, and Josh's too, because he stands up straight
and glares silently at Wallace.
"Yes, that's correct," I answer.
"Did your hospital visit have anything to do with the stress that
you've experienced in the last few months since the shooting?"
"The stress of the shooting and the subsequent healing did eventually
manifest itself as a physical ailment, for which I'm being treated."
I look to CJ, who apparently feels that my answer told just enough
without giving away too much. She gives me a subtle thumbs up.
"Do you feel that the healing process for Josh through, Donna?"
My shoulders stiffen and I take a deep breath in an attempt to
camouflage it. "I'm not a doctor, Bristol. I can say that, Josh's
recovery was agonizing, but I believe that he's finally back in the
physical shape that he was in before the shooting. He jogs again," I
say, as an example.
"And his emotional recovery?"
I glance over at him again and smile. "We're healing together," I
say. He reflects my smile and even through the bright lights I can
see his dimples.
"Which one of you took the first step in moving your relationship
into a new direction?"
"It was mutual," I say. "I mean...it felt mutual. Josh did a lot
towards making it safe for us to talk about how we feel. He put it on
the table, but he never pushed me in any way. He made me feel like
it was okay to risk my heart."
"Was it a risk?"
"It felt like a big risk, at the time. But in retrospect, I'd have
to say that it was as close to a sure thing as I've ever seen."
"One last question, Donna. How has the change in your relationship
affected your working together?"
"I want to point out that the core of our relationship has never
changed, and I hope it never will. We're still Josh and Donna. All
we've done is add layers. We've enriched it."
I can't help but look over at Josh, who is once again leaning against
the wall with a smile on his face. He nods at me as though he has
been searching for the best way to describe us and I was the one to
find the most fitting definition.
"Thank you for your time, Donna. I appreciate your cooperation."
Bristol leans in to me and offers me her hand. I shake it again,
this time noting that we've found a respect for one another.
"You're welcome, Bristol," I say, this time with a heartfelt smile.
Bristol slashes a hand across her throat in the international symbol
for 'cut', before she stands from her chair and reaches to remove her
microphone.
The moment I stand, I'm besieged by a technician who wants to remove
the sound equipment pinned to my jacket and clipped to my waistband.
Josh approaches but is denied access by the production assistant. At
last, the mike is removed my clothing and the technician scampers off
to pack it away.
Josh takes me in his arms as soon as the technician is through with
me. I wrap my arms around his waist and lock them at the wrist. We
say nothing for a moment. He only holds me.
"Did I say anything wrong?" I finally whisper into his ear.
"Not a thing," he responds. "You were a marvel."
He tightens his arms briefly before letting me go. When we separate,
we turn to find everyone in the room quietly watching us. A witty
retort pops into my head, but I choose to say nothing because the
moment has spoken for itself. In a flash, as though it had been
choreographed and timed to the second, the production crew swings
back into action and continues packing.
"Thanks again, Donna." Bristol strides up to me with her hand
outstretched, which I again shake. "It was a pleasure speaking with
you. We have to get back to New York if we want to get this tape
edited. I'm planning for your segment to air after the 10:30 break."
"Okay," I respond before she walks away. I glance over at Josh.
"I'm going to run to the ladies' room," I tell him.
"You okay?" he asks.
"Yeah, fine. I'll be right back."
I'm surprised to discover when I make it to the bathroom that I am
indeed fine. I feel a bit wrung out, but that's to be expected when
you expose your soul for all to see on national television. But even
though it was hard, I find that I'm stronger for it.
When I return to the Mural Room, the crew and their equipment are
being led out by CJ and a team of Secret Service agents, who will
watch them like hawks until their truck is loaded and they drive away.
When I reach the door I stop short when I hear Josh's voice.
"Thank you, Bristol," he says.
"You're not angry with me for making her cry?" her voice floats
through the open door. "I was very nearly expecting you to put a
stop to it all."
"I very nearly did," he responds, "but not because of the questions."
"So, why are you thanking me?"
"I'm thanking you because you didn't make our relationship look cheap
and tawdry."
I can hear Bristol sigh. "I like her, Josh. I didn't think I would,
but I do. She's strong and smart, and courageous, isn't she?"
"Yes, she is."
"And that's why you love her." It's not a question.
"It's one of many reasons."
"She's a good woman, Josh."
"Why does everybody keep saying that like I don't know?" I can
almost see his shoulders shrug as he holds his palms up.
"Probably because you're just dumb enough to let the best thing in
your life get away from you. Hang on tight, Josh."
"I'm hanging on," he vows.
My heart flutters as he says the words. Even from this distance, as
I eavesdrop on my boyfriend having a conversation with another woman,
I can feel his arms around me. I can feel him hanging on tight. And
I can hear the words he doesn't say.
He's swearing that he will never let me go.
The End.
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