After All The Presents
by Tige
A little diddy I just wrote--(adjust the grammar and spelling grader--
no time for corrections)--I wanted to get it out before Christmas
night ended in my time zone. Here goes: The Bartlet's--after
Christmas--in New Hampshire.
I don't own them. I'm just borrowing. I spent all my money on
Christmas presents so don't sue me--I have nothing to give you.
-----
The fireplaces are riddled with ashes and ambers from a
receding fire that began early on this Christmas Day. The tree was
long since looted, the presents torn up, laughter and smiles of
satisfaction filling the air. Now only bubble lights twinkled, with
garland and ornaments hanging on the Christmas Tree. Stockings were
re-hung, empty of Santa's goodies. The turkey and ham had been
eaten, the pies and cakes were half way finished. The low hum a
television set, a soft strumming of a new guitar, and a holiday CD
left in the stereo were the auditory remnants of the day.
And in front of one of the many fireplaces, a man and a woman
were lying in each other's arms in a blanket, staring at the fire,
oblivious to the world around them.
"This was as beautiful Christmas. I'm glad we shared it
together."
"Me too. I can't believe your dad is allowing us to be in
the same room together, much less this close."
"Charlie, my Dad may be the President, and he may be just
my Dad, but he still has my mom to keep him from being too much of
dominating figure in my life who acts like he's stuck in the middle
ages."
"Well. . .sometimes, it's really hard to tell if that's the
truth or not."
"I hear you. It happens every time mom leaves town—or Leo
isn't aware of what he's doing. How's Deaana handling this?"
"She's having a great time—mind you, Zoey, that's after her
eyes were put back in her sockets after she got on Air Force One."
Zoey laughed in his arms.
Charlie sighed in contentment. He couldn't think of a
better Christmas—with his sister, the girl he loved, and the man whom
he thought of as more than the President, but as a man, and more
importantly a father. And Charlie thought that the feelings were
reciprocated. He wrapped his arms tighter around Zoey Bartlet.
"Merry Christmas, Charlie."
"Merry Christmas, Zoey."
Josiah Bartlet watched silently as his daughter and his
aide's conversation subsided. A small smile formed as he watched
the couple snuggle deeper in embrace. Jed was finally beginning to
accept their relationship in a positive way, especially after the
shooting. They were serious, he could tell. He knew, especially,
because Charlie looked at Zoey like Jed looked at Abbey when they
were in college.
With a bottle of champagne and two flutes, the President made
his way to his own blanket in front of a fire. Abigail Bartlet was
near one of the windows of Jed's personal study in their farm in
New Hampshire. She was smiling as she stared up at the stars while
she fingered her Christmas present from her husband—a diamond
necklace from Tiffany and Co. Silently, the glasses and bubbly were
set down on the blanket, and Jed crept behind Abbey to wrap his arms
around his wife.
Abbey sunk back into his embrace, sighing with
happiness. "There's nothing like a white Christmas, is there?"
"Nope. It's beautiful out there. Peaceful, and you can
still see the remains of the snow fight from this afternoon."
"God, you're such a little kid."
"And you're saying this is a bad thing?"
"Well, no. . .you're an endearing. . .big kid. But I'm still
going to pay you back for getting snow down my jacket. It's negative
6 out there, and that did not help." Abbey, by now, had wriggled
from Jed's embrace, and now was face to face with him.
"It was funny! I thought I even saw Ron Butterfield crack a
smile, it was so funny."
Abbey stared at him with a look that said `don't mess with
me'. . .but there was a twinkle in her eye—a mischievous gleam.
"I'm going to get a little punishment?" Jed presumed.
"Yes, you're going to get a little punishment." Abbey
affirmed with a nod.
"Let's give me my punishment after a little drink of
champagne, okay?"
"Fine, even though you're just trying to loosen me up, first."
"As long as we're on the same page."
They sat down on the blanket as Jed poured the bubbly in the
glasses.
"To love," Abbey said as Jed handed her a glass, and he
nodded in approval.
"To you, my love." The glasses clinked, and the Dom
Perignon was sipped. As Josiah looked at his wife while he drank, he
admired how the necklace accented his wife. He smiled.
"What?"
"The necklace looks beautiful on you."
"Thanks to you." She cooed.
"It adds to the light in your eyes, I mean that's always
there and it's so bright, but, God. Abbey, you're gorgeous."
Abbey lit up, as she always did when Jed complimented her.
He made her feel so alive, so loved. She moved closer to him, and
kissed him gently on the lips.
"You know, I don't need presents. We have everything we
need. Elizabeth and her husband are playing with Annie and Charlie's
sister Deaana upstairs. Charlie and Zoe are falling in love in
living room. And we're here, together, on Christmas—a time to love,
share, and enjoy each other. What more could I possibly want?"
"I couldn't have put better myself. But you have loved me
for 32 years, have given me two beautiful daughters, and that alone
merits all the gifts in the world."
"I love you." Abbey whispered, her eyes becoming moist.
"And I love you. Merry Christmas."
"And a Merry Christmas to you, too. Now, kiss me, Mr.
President." Jed smirked as he pulled Abbey on top of him on the
blanket.
"Your wish is my command, Dr. Bartlet." Abbey giggled as her
husband fiercely reached for her lips with his own.
The snow began to fall again, encasing the Bartlet family
clan in a winter wonderland, away from Washington D.C., away from
politics. The moon glowed upon the farm that was full of
togetherness and happiness. It was Christmas—it was a time of love.