See disclaimers in part 1
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Plans and Privilege 4/6
By Lacy
She stalks stiffly back into the office and drops the requested
report on my desk without a word.
"Donna."
She stops and turns slowly around. Her shoulders tense further and
her arms knot together in front of her uncomfortably expanding
chest. "Yes?"
"It's okay, Donnatella," I say softly.
I note the exact moment when she realizes to what I'm referring, and
her eyes begin to well with unshed tears. Her shoulders slump, and
her arms drop to dangle listlessly at her sides.
My sports jacket hangs from the back of my chair and I'm digging
inside of it to, once again, retrieve a handkerchief. Didn't I tell
you they would be coming in handy? Standing up, and crossing the
room, I offer her the square of linen.
"It's okay, Donna. There's no crisis here," I remind her.
"I'm going crazy," she sniffs.
"You're not going crazy," I gently contradict.
"Yesterday, I forgot to call and confirm the train meeting."
"It went off without a hitch."
"Tuesday was Bonnie's birthday and it completely slipped my mind."
"I'm sure she won't hold it against you."
"I think I may be brain damaged after all." The tears finally spill
over and she quietly wipes them away.
"I don't think so."
"I made an appointment with Dr. Hayward."
"What?"
"I think something's not working right inside my head."
"Well, that could be true for anyone."
"I left the oven on last night. I could have burned down the house."
"Donna. These are the kinds of things that happen to everyone."
"Not to me."
"You had a head injury," I remind her. "And you took very little
time to recover."
"So now it's my fault?" her voice rises.
"I'm not pointing fingers, Donna. I'm just saying that you're
putting too much pressure on yourself and that could be what's
causing you to have memory issues."
"I'm still going to the doctor."
"When?"
"I couldn't get in until next week."
"Fine. I'll go with you."
"Josh, you don't--"
"I'm going, and then I'm going to take you out to a romantic dinner.
Maybe we'll do some dancing."
"Don't you think I've been injured enough?"
"Very funny. If I recall, you were the one who had trouble with the
waltz." An idea pops into my head and I place my hand on her
shoulders, backing her up to the wall.
"What are you--?"
"Stand up straight," I tell her. "Breathe. In through your nose and
out through you mouth. Just breathe, Donna."
She closes her eyes and follows my advice. The creases around her
eyes and mouth fade slowly away, as the relaxation exercise does its
job.
"I need to be working," she insists, her eyes still closed.
"We can afford a few minutes."
"You know what would really relax me?" Her now-heavy eyelids rise
and her crystal blue eyes have gone smoky gray. I've become
deliciously familiar with that look over the last few months. Her
tears have stopped and her earlier maelstrom of emotion seems to have
been forgotten. "You know how to relax me, Josh."
"Well, there goes my concentration for the rest of the day," I mutter.
"I'm sorry."
"No, you're not. Just breathe, Donna. Tonight we'll...."
"Try out another stress relieving exercise?"
"Yeah."
"Good," she sighs, closing her eyes again.
"But no jalapenos this time," I smirk.
She pouts wordlessly without opening her eyes, and I have to stamp
down the laughter bubbling up inside of me. A fleeting thought races
through my brain that stops my heart for a moment.
If our daughter ever masters that pout, I'm a dead man.
"Feeling better?" I ask, when all systems are working again.
"Uh-hmmm."
"Good. I have to get back to work."
"Am I distracting you?" She hones her smoky gaze in on me for a
second time.
"Yes."
"I'm leaving," she steps away from the wall, and hands my
handkerchief back to me.
"Try to relax, Donna," I remind her as she leaves.
"Carson will be here in forty-five," she says.
"Yeah."
Carson arrives annoyingly early, and I spend the next hour and a half
closeted in my office with him. Donna pops her head in at seven
o'clock to let me know she's leaving. For the remainder of the
meeting I subtly check my watch, as Carson drones off facts and dryly
answers my inquiries.
"Thanks, Kyle, that's really all I'm going to need for now," I say
politely when I'm ready to dismiss him.
He stands to shake my hand across the desk. "Let me know if you're
going to need anything else."
"Will do. Thanks, again."
I walk him out, something Donna would normally do, and head back to
my office to collect my things. I find Sam waiting for me there.
"You finally get rid of that guy?"
"Yeah. I was this close to calling the Secret Service. His total
lack of personality was sucking the life out of my office. What
would ever make anyone want to be a nuclear physicist?"
"A mad desire to rule the world?"
"That's what I'm afraid of."
"You ready?" he asks.
"Ready for what?"
"To go. Donna said you'd need a ride home."
"Oh, right. She invited you for dinner."
"Yeah," he says, in that way he does when he's trying to keep from
saying anything more.
I grab my coat and stuff a few necessary files in my backpack before
turning the light off. "Let's go."
Sam and I walk side by side out the security posts and to his car.
We speak of inane government matters. The speech he's writing for
the symposium in Rome next month. My progress with the Republican
faction this afternoon. Toby's frustrated meetings with Sheldon's
people. I'm tense, and I know that Sam is picking up on it, because
it's making him tense too.
TBC
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