Jed Bartlet sat on the edge of the bed in the Residence’s master bedroom, watching his wife as she quickly and silently packed her well-traveled Samsonite luggage. As she packed, she was carefully ignoring the presence of the most powerful man on earth.

He leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees. Right now, he felt pretty damned powerless. He could not tear his eyes away from his wife…They had played this scene out before, countless numbers of times, but only he and Abbey knew how terribly different this trip was. This time, neither of them would be consulting their Day Planners to count the numbers of hours and days until she would return and they would be together again. This time, she would not be returning, at least to this part of the White House, to her side of this bed.

Tomorrow morning’s press briefing by C.J. would include a short announcement that the First Lady would be going to the house in Manchester to oversee long overdue renovations. C.J. would tell the rabble that the trip had been long planned (bullshit…) and that the First Lady would be in Washington frequently over the next few weeks (that was possible, but don’t hold your breath, people…)

Only the two of them knew the real story. Abbey Bartlet had no intention of returning to Washington for any real length of time. Oh, there would be an occasional State Dinner or Today Show interview from the Rose Garden, but that would be the extent of it. Truth be told, Washington D.C. now stood for everything she despised in him, and was the ever-constant reminder of their failed marriage.

There, he’d thought it, so now it was real. After more than thirty years, their life together was over. Oh, they would keep up appearances, strictly for appearance’s sake, but they were never going to be the same again. Even if he managed to pull off the coup of the century and stay in office, then the farce would continue for another four years. If he lost the nomination or the election, then all bets were off and C.J. would be told to issue a terse, carefully worded press release announcing their separation.

There would be no divorce – both of them understood that. They were Catholic, married in a church, and vows made before God were not easily broken. He suddenly reminded himself that he’d already done just exactly that, broken his vow to God, when he broke their deal.

He watched her walk across the room as a lump rose in his throat. Any minute now he feared he would lose it and start yelling with the pain of it. His Service detail wouldn’t appreciate that very much, but he didn’t give a damn. Losing her was tearing him apart – she was the best part of him; she was his world. He’d thrown it all away because his ego enjoyed the benefits of being President. He had only himself to blame.

Across the room, Abbey had started to walk out, but then she stopped and turned back to face him one last time. “I’m leaving now, Jed.”

His mind was racing. Get up off your ass and stop her, you pompous jackass! Plead with her – do anything! Have her arrested – I could probably do that! Just do whatever it takes to fix this! But he couldn’t get his body to move. He could only manage a feeble nod and a quiet “call me when you get there,” as a response. Then she, and the hastily packed luggage were out the door and gone.

Charlie Young found him there some time later, still sitting on the edge of the bed, slumped over a bit, as though it might hurt to sit up straight. “My wife’s gone, Charlie,” he said to the young man moving across the carpeted floor.

Charlie misinterpreted the statement of fact as a question. “Yes, sir. She left for Andrews about thirty minutes ago.” He held out the President’s suit jacket. “Leo needs to see you in the Oval Office, sir.”

Is it possible that the world is going to go on? Abbey has left me – I can’t just carry on as though nothing has changed. But he knew, because of the way they had to play this out, that was exactly what he had to do. He shook his head, got to his feet and shrugged into his jacket. He would go on, but none of it mattered anymore.


**

Abbey Bartlet sat in the back of the limousine, flanked only by the members of her detail. I will not cry in front of them, she told herself fiercely, and she steeled herself into a façade of calm she did not feel inside. She spent the short ride to Andrews Air Force Base making surreal small talk with the agents, none of whom knew that this trip to Manchester was meant to be permanent, at least on her part. At some point tonight, she would have to sit down and call Lillie Mays to prepare her for Jed’s upcoming revelation about his MS. She would not tell anyone she would be staying in Manchester, but Lillie wasn’t an idiot. She would soon realize that she was shouldering even more of their day-to-day White House activities and responsibilities, leaving Abbey free for the occasional State Dinner, interview or photo-op.

This was all so damned awful, but she saw no other clear option. How could she ever tell Jed that, after Babish and then Sam got through interrogating her about his illness, she felt as though she’d been mentally raped…not to mention the legal/ethical mess she was exposed to now? And it was all his fault, damn him! They had a deal. And he broke his word – his pledge to her and his vow to God. Well, she couldn’t do anything about the state of his eternal soul, but she sure as hell could do something about his relationship with her. He had gone behind her back, launched his re-election campaign, and conveniently forgotten their deal. Did he really think he wouldn’t have to pay the price for that?

The hell of it was, she still loved the man. She had loved him almost from the first moment she had met him, and she would love Jed Bartlet until the day she died. More than thirty years, three children and any number of troubles had only deepened their love for each other.

She just didn’t respect him right now, and she could not live with a man she didn’t respect. She wasn’t even sure that, when the time came, she would have the strength to go back and sit by his side when he made his announcement to the country. She was aware that some members of his staff were against her being there anyway, so that might be a moot point.

She could understand the allure of life in the White House. In the past three years, she had been able to champion some very important causes and make a real difference in many ways. She had already gone to more places than most doctors saw in a lifetime. When she visited refugee camps, it was more than a photo-op. She was able to actually roll up her sleeves and practice medicine. Her trips to Pakistan and Argentina had both been extended because she had been given the opportunity to help set up clinics in poverty-stricken areas. In some very concrete ways, she was saving lives.

That had to outweigh her questionable actions in medicating Jed. It wasn’t as though she had self-prescribed the regimen of Betaseron injections. She was only carrying out the instructions of his primary physician, a neurosurgeon who had arranged the on-going prescription through a pharmacy in Manchester that the family had relied upon ever since Elizabeth had her first ear infection. She was administering the meds, however, and she wasn’t sure that the ethics committee of the state medical board would accept her “I was only following orders” defense. So be it. It was only one of many decisions she had made that she was learning to live with.

She wasn’t sure what she would do if because of this she lost her license to practice medicine. Being a doctor was not just her job – it was her vocation, and a very great part of who she was.

All of these things were going through her mind as they moved from the limo to one of the smaller planes in the White House fleet. She could have used Air Force One; Jed had even offered its use tonight, but that magnificent silver/blue bird attracted a helluva lot of attention, and she wanted to make her escape as quietly as possible.

The flight to Manchester was uneventful, except for her brief, telephone conversation with Lillie. She told her no more and no less than Jed had told his staff. She didn’t take it any better than they had, but that was to be understood. Lillie had been an integral part of his campaign staff before coming over to work for her.

The effort of going through the whole thing all over again combined with the effects of the last several days left her exhausted and edgy. By the time they made it to the house, she was barely able to keep herself together. She quickly made sure her small entourage was settled in, then she beat a hasty retreat to the sanctuary of the master bedroom which took up a good part of the third floor.

Stripping off her traveling suit as she moved through the room, she stepped into the luxuriously appointed bathroom and turned the shower on, hot. When the room was filled with steam, she shut off the shower and began to fill the tub. On her way through downstairs, she had snagged a bottle of red wine and a goblet from the kitchen. Now she sat in a steaming bath and sipped at her drink.

She tried to shut her mind off against the turmoil, but she failed. This part of the house had always been her special getaway, but even here, there were traces of Jed’s presence all around her. His favorite old bathrobe hung from a peg behind the door. She remembered the battle they’d had because he wanted to take it to Washington, but she refused to let the ratty old thing to be allowed anywhere near the White House. From then on, whenever he was up here, he wore it as often and as long as he could. A bottle of his favorite shampoo sat on the side of the tub, and old copies of “The Economist” were stacked precariously along the top of the toilet. She even thought she could smell traces of his aftershave in the air.

Even here, she could not escape. And escape was what she was trying to do, she knew that now. She felt like a coward, a rat leaving a sinking ship.

At that point, all the pent-up emotions that she had fought to keep in check came undone, and she began to cry. The tears flooded from her eyes in waves that left her gasping for breath. By the time her sobbing finally eased, the bath water was cold, her eyes felt heavy, every muscle in her body felt bruised and there was an ache in her temples that threatened to explode into a full-blown migraine.

She pulled herself from the tub, let the water out and dried herself with a huge, soft bathtowel. On impulse, instead of stepping into her gown, she took Jed’s bathrobe from its peg and shrugged into it. She wrapped it tightly around her body as she crossed the bedroom and lay down between the sheets. The bed was king-sized, and they had ordered it from New York many years ago. Zoey had been conceived in it. She closed her eyes and tried not to think of how lonely it felt without him beside her.

**

She slept fitfully for only an hour or so and awoke feeling groggy and disoriented. Knowing she would be unable to go back to sleep, she pulled on a pair of thick socks, jeans and one of Jed’s Notre Dame T-shirts then went downstairs to the kitchen. The remnants of her headache lurked at her temples, and experience had taught her that if she didn’t get some protein into her body soon, the pain would return with a vengeance.

She put a small pot of coffee on to brew, and while she waited for that, she whipped up a cheese omelet, buttered toast on the side. They kept the Manchester house well stocked and cared for, in case of just this sort of get-away, but usually it meant the two of them escaping from Washington’s madness for a while. She couldn’t remember the last time she had come here alone.

She took her food into the living room and sat down in front of the television set. She couldn’t face the twenty-four hour news shows, so she found one of the classic movie channels and settled down to watch a Katherine Hepburn/Spencer Tracy movie.

It was just about to get interesting when the phone at her elbow rang. She thought once about ignoring it, but the digital Caller ID registered Ellie’s graduate apartment number. She muted the television and caught the telephone on the third ring.

“Hello, baby,” she said in greeting, trying to keep her voice light and cheery.

“Hi, Mom,” her middle daughter replied. “So much for surprising you. Listen, what’s going on with you and Dad? Is everything all right?”

Abbey took a deep breath. She loved all her children equally, but in many ways, she was closest to Ellie. They were much alike in temperament, which also meant that Ellie wouldn’t mind getting in her face about something. She would have to be very careful here. “I just came up to the house to start picking out the new floor plans…what makes you think something was wrong?”

“Dad knew I got my grades yesterday, and he called to see how everything went. He sounded, I don’t know…funny…”

“Funny, ha ha or funny strange?”

“He sounded sad, like he always does when the two of you are fighting.”

“Really, sweetie, it’s nothing for you to worry about…how were your grades, anyway?”

Abbey heard the sigh that usually preceded a disgusted “Oh, Mother!” Ellie had probably seen more than her share of arguments between she and Jed. Elizabeth was a bit older than the other girls were, and by the time Zoey came along, their separate careers gave them something else to focus on. But when Ellie was a little girl, their marriage hit a rough stretch, and it had made a big impression on her. For one thing, her relationship with her father never recovered. “Mom, when you try to change the subject on me like that, then I really know something is wrong. I know Dad can be a real pain in the ass sometimes, but this is different. You can talk to me, you know,” Ellie finished.

Abbey took a deep breath that was shakier than she would have liked. Her emotions seemed to be right on the surface, and threatened to overwhelm her again. “Ellie, your Father and I were going to talk to all of you before too long…Very soon, he is going to go public about his MS.”

“Oh, my God!” Ellie gasped. “So, why aren’t you in Washington right now?”

Abbey ran a trembling hand over her face. “It’s a little bit more complicated than that, honey.”

“No, it’s not.” Ellie’s voice took on the practiced, clinical tone of a doctor, or at least a serious-minded medical student. Abbey thought that maybe she had set too good an example for her daughter on how to approach any medical problem with a detached air. “His relapses can be brought on by stress, and he’s about to go public with the biggest story of his political career, and you are not where you should be, which is at his side. I know he’s probably been a real jackass about something, but you know how much he relies on you…” There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, then Ellie’s voice came back, a bit more subdued this time. “Mom, you’re not trying to cause Dad to have a relapse are you?”

Abbey felt as though her daughter had struck her. “What a helluva thing to say to me, young lady!”

“It would sure be a good way for Dad to realize just how much he needs you…he’s probably been ignoring you lately, leaving you out of the loop on important decisions and stuff, and you’re feeling a bit left out, am I right?”

More than a little bit…Abbey thought, but she left the thought unsaid. Instead, she whispered “I would never deliberately hurt your father, Eleanor.”

“I know, Mom…it’s just that you don’t usually run from a fight, and I think that’s what you’re doing now…Whatever it is that’s going on between you and Dad, it won’t get settled with you way-the-hell-up-in-Manchester. Go back to Washington, Mom. Give Dad a chance to need you before he really needs you.”

“Did your father ask you to call me?”

“No, because he knows I don’t ever do what he tells me to.” There seemed to be a smile in Ellie’s tone, and Abbey’s face reflected the smile for the briefest time. “Go back, Mom, please…” With that, she hung up.

Abbey sat in the living room, holding the phone in her hand and listening to the buzz of the open line. She was shaken by the conversation, but deep down inside herself, she knew that much of what Ellie had said was true. Sometimes she really regretted having daughters who were as smart as theirs were. She finally hung up the telephone, turned out the light, and stretched out on the couch, but she knew that sleep would continue to elude her.

**

Jed stared at his Chief of Staff as though he had suddenly gone mad. That had to be the only reason why he would come into this office and say such an ungodly thing. Mrs. Landingham can’t be dead…she’s coming back here to show me her new car, and I have to tell her…But he saw the devastated look on Leo’s face. It had to be true. The room started to spin, and he reached out a hand to steady himself with the edge of his desk. Leo was there as well, offering a firm shoulder. They moved over to the couch and sat.

“How did it happen, Leo…what can you tell me about it?”

“We don’t have all the details as yet, sir, but we do know a drunk driver was involved. We’re trying to get more information now.”

Jed nodded. “How’s Charlie?” Jed knew that Charlie and Mrs. Landingham had established a close relationship that went beyond their working together. She had become something of a surrogate mother for the young man from the first day he worked here. This loss, coming so soon after the violent death of his mother, might be enough to break him, but Jed doubted that. Charlie had already proven how tough and resilient he could be.

“He’s about as well as can be expected, but he’ll be okay,” Leo replied as he closely watched the President’s features. “How are you?”

Jed’s eyes suddenly filled with tears as the full impact of his loss swept over him. He shook his head and forced his emotions deep inside. There was too much to be done, too many decisions to be made.

Some time later, the President and Leo sat in the Oval Office. The lights had been dimmed, and they were sitting in a melancholy silence. The preliminary arrangements had been made, calls had been placed, and now there was nothing left to do for the night. No one seemed to be in any mood to leave, however. An impromptu wake was occurring all over the West Wing. Jed had wandered the halls a while ago, and everyone was still here, supporting and comforting each other by telling and retelling their favorite “Mrs. L.” stories.

Suddenly, Jed got to his feet, and pulled on his suit jacket. “I need to see Abbey, Leo.”

Leo nodded. “I’ve already called her for you, Mr. President. She’ll be back in the White House first thing in the morning. She offered to come back right away, but I told her to wait…she sounded tired…”

Jed shook his head. “I don’t care…I need to see her tonight…I need to see her now!”

**

If there were perks to this fishbowl existence called the Presidency, Jed though to himself as Air Force One touched down at Manchester’s airport, having this plane and flight crew on call at a moment’s notice had to be one of them. Only two hours ago, he had been sitting in the Oval Office, talking to Leo, and now he was back home. As the plane taxied out to a seldom used but well guarded hanger, he looked around the plane’s interior. (Try as he might, his mind had been filled with memories of Mrs. Landingham, and now he remembered the look of pride on her face the very first time she had flown on this plane.) Normally, this plane would be at capacity, but tonight, aside from the plane’s full crew complement, and hid ever-present military people, only he and his Secret Service detail were aboard. He wanted to make this trip as quickly and as quietly as possible. He knew that usually he could not move from one room to the other without a fuss being made, but at least he could keep the noise down to a dull roar this time.

Jed disembarked and stepped into the limousine waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, and was gratified to see that there was no press to be seen. This had happened so fast that maybe he and Abbey could get back to Washington before anyone was the wiser. The limousine moved swiftly through the quiet streets; at this hour, very little activity could be seen, even in the heart of town.

As the car rolled up the long, curving driveway at the house, only his experienced eye could pick out agents patrolling the grounds. The entire world seemed oblivious to his presence and his pain.
He stood outside the front door to his home with a puzzled look on his face. The object of his mission had been to get to Manchester and talk to his wife. However, now that he was here, he wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to say. Besides, the door was locked tight, and he didn’t carry keys anymore. Just as it was beginning to dawn on him how ridiculous he looked, an alert agent came up and unlocked the door. He nodded his thanks and stepped inside.

**

Leo had apologized for waking her, but Abbey had not been asleep when the telephone rang. Her mind seemed stuck in a rewind mode, as she replayed everything she and Jed had said to one another since the State of the Union. She was also still thinking about her conversation with Ellie, and then the news Leo gave her sent shock waves through her body and mind. God, why her? Why now? She tried to pray, but for once, her catechism failed her. She couldn’t even remember the words to the Hail Mary.

Jed was going to be devastated by this – probably this would hurt him more than any flack the press or the opposition was going to give him after he made his announcement. Jed had known Delores Landingham longer than almost any one else, certainly the other members of his staff. She had been the one to arrange the scholarship for one young Leo McGarry to the prep school where Jed’s father was headmaster. When Jed started to introduce Abbey to his family, she met Delores Landingham first of all – even before she met his mother.

There was no question of her returning to Washington now, and Abbey realized that she would have gone back in the morning without this tragedy as a reason. Much of what Ellie had said to her was the truth – while she would never jeopardize Jed’s health, she had been deeply hurt because she had been left out of the decision making process. She knew Jed wasn’t entirely to blame for that; Leo and Toby had always been the architects of his campaign, and she knew that Leo had been trying to tell her that the night of the State of the Union speech. And if she thought the treatment she had endured from Sam and Babish had been harsh, what did she think she would face in front of the special prosecutor? If Sam had been a bit overzealous, what did she expect? Zealous should have been Sam Seaborn’s middle name.

There were still many things she and Jed had to talk about, but it was time for her to get back to the business of being his wife, especially now. Yes, he had hurt her, but she had done her fair share of injury too. It was time to put an end to as much of the hurt as she could manage. She wasn’t sure how long she had been lying in the dark, mulling these things over, but despite everything she finally managed to fall into a fitful sleep, bather only in the soft light of the television set.

She awoke suddenly, with a terrifying certainty that she was not alone in the room. Struggling to remain calm, she slowly reached for her “panic button” to alert her detail about the intruder, and tried not to think about how an intruder had gotten past her detail in the first place.

Then, just as suddenly as her panic had risen, she caught the faintest hint of a familiar aftershave. Before she could convince herself that it was her imagination, she made out her husband’s face from the dim glow of the television.

“Jed?” she whispered, sitting up and switching on the lamp next to the couch.

He closed his eyes against the sudden light, and a moment later, when he opened them again, Abbey was shocked at the fatigue and grief she saw there.

“Jed, what are you dong here in the middle of the night?”

“I had to see you…” his voice was harsh, and from the tightness around his lips, she could tell that hie was controlling his emotions no better than she was. “I had to talk to you…”

She watched him walk across the room towards her, and the tightness in her throat and chest made it impossible for her to speak. “I know I’ve broken the deal we made,” he said slowly, his words coming out painfully. “I know I have betrayed your trust, and I will do anything…anything to get that back.” At first, he stood over Abbey, then suddenly dropped to his knees in front of her. His eyes were fixed on hers. “But I can’t go on without you…I can’t face…the next few days…weeks…without you…I’ll resign first…”

Suddenly, his hands began to shake. It was not the onset of an attack, but the sudden release of all the emotions he had been holding in check for so long now. Alone with the one person who knew him best, he could afford the luxury of just being himself, and he let his feelings get the best of him. “I love you with all my heart, Abbey…please don’t leave me…” he said, and then he began to sob.

For her part, all Abbey could do was cling to her husband and share his grief and worry. Her tears returned, and for the longest moment, their sobs were the only sound in the darkened house. She slid off the couch and joined him on the floor, as their arms went round each other.

Later, their grief spent, they sat back against the couch, unwilling to let go of each other. She wiped the tears from his face with her hand, and he reached up to grasp her fingers and kiss them. She took a deep breath and said the words that had been in the back of her mind for the longest time now. “Jed, listen to me…yes, you went back on your word and broke our deal. But I think I broke another deal with you, one we made a lot earlier than the one about re-election…” At the puzzled look on his face, she went on, knowing that if she didn’t get it said now, she might never again find the courage. “Do you remember the promises we made to each other, a long time ago, in front of God, and Father Cavanaugh and everyone? We promised to be there for each other, for richer, for poorer…in sickness and in health…I think I broke that deal, and something Ellie said to me today made me realize that.”

“Remind me to send our middle daughter some flowers in the morning.”

“ I’m sorry, Jed. I got scared, and I let that get in the way. I love you, and I will be beside you, no matter what happens next. I’m not saying I’ll always do the right thing, or not be angry, but I will be there…”

He took his face in her hands and kissed her softly. “I love you, too, Abbey, and all I ever wanted was you beside me.” He held her close for another long moment, then held her out at arms length, studying her critically. “Is that my T-shirt you’re wearing?”


The End