| Subject: WW Story (1/1) |
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A4
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Date Posted: 19:41:35 01/26/04 Mon
In reply to:
A4
's message, "WW Story" on 19:39:02 01/26/04 Mon
Denial can make you blind to the truth, even when it’s shining bright red in front of you.
Looking back at it now, I should have seen the signs. After all, they were there all along. Donna saw them; even Josh saw it, and he could miss a freight train steaming through his office. The only possible explanation is that I didn't want to see; didn't want to believe that there was a part of him that wasn't an open book, a piece of himself he didn't want to share.
I shouldn't have been surprised, I suppose.
But I was.
~*~*~*~*~
If the White House could be said to have "typical" days, this would have been one of them. It was far too quiet, eerily so. Already one in the afternoon, and there had been no national scandal, no strong-arming of senators, and no military power threatening innocent lives. Even the press were contrite and quiet – a miracle of biblical proportions.
It was driving us to distraction.
Despite the lull we were having, Josh and I couldn’t bring ourselves to leave the building – even with the knowledge we were just a pager call away. As a result, we were sharing lunch in my office when Danny called.
Now, if we’d been busier, I probably wouldn’t have taken the call. It would have been far simpler, after all, to have Carol take a message…especially considering the smirk that had graced Josh’s face at the sound of Danny’s name. But, we weren’t busy, and I could see no way to duck out of it – not with Josh watching, and not with that expectant grin on Carol’s face.
Besides, in all honesty, I didn’t want out of it. It had been weeks since I’d heard from him and I was pining, just a little. It was still strange to look out over the press during a briefing, and not see his damned annoying smirk; even stranger to know that if there was dirt to uncover in our administration, he wouldn’t be around to do it.
So, yes. I wanted to speak to him. But, if we’d been busier, if I’d let him leave a message, perhaps it would have excused my later behaviour – my later ignorance when face to face with his past. At least if it had been busy, it would have been possible I wasn’t paying attention.
As it was, I hung on his every word.
"Hey, CJ." I smiled at the sound of his voice, slightly husky even through the static of a long distance connection. Even across the miles, he still got to me.
I tried to be casual, but Josh was making me twitchy. He was giving me his I’m-going-to-use-this-against-you-in-the-very-near-future look, memorizing every minute reaction I was having. It was the last thing I needed. Thankfully, Carol was on top of things, grasping him by the forearm and dragging him from the room. Once the door was shut, I swallowed - okay, gulped before speaking. "Hey, Danny.”
“Who was there?” I could practically hear his grin as he spoke, and if I closed my eyes, I could see it.
“Josh.”
“He was giving you the look?”
I laughed, I couldn’t help myself. He knew us all so well. “Yeah.”
“He gone?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” He paused, and I fiddled with a pen on my desk, drawing small circles in the margins of my press notes. “It’s good to hear your voice, CJ.”
I felt my face flush, and thanked God that I'd shooed Josh away. It wasn’t so much the words themselves, but the depth of feeling in them. I needed to lighten the mood, or this conversation would take a turn neither of us would be comfortable with. "No TVs where you are, Daniel?"
"Not many, and it's not the same.”
No. It wasn't. And hearing his voice wasn't the same as seeing him everyday.
"The press room's almost tame, with you gone."
"Is that right?"
"Yeah. Billie just can’t keep up."
Silence fell between us again and I closed my eyes, listening to him breathe. Somehow it seemed far more intimate than a kiss or a touch, as though I were invading his consciousness.
"CJ - "
My own breath caught as he said my name. It just wasn’t right that his voice could do that to me. "Yeah?"
“I can’t talk much longer, and I’ve got a favour to ask.”
“Oh?” I was disappointed. Upset that he had an ulterior motive. It was silly, and girlish, but I felt betrayed somehow, as though he’d led me on. I may have actually pouted. Before I spoke again, I made sure I schooled my tone, unwilling to let him hear the disappointment creep in. “How can I help?”
“CJ - “ Either he knew me very well, or I’d failed to cover my disappointment, because his voice become soft, almost urgent. I felt it like a soft touch on my skin. “If I thought you wanted me to – I’d call just to hear your voice.”
“Danny – “ I was finding it difficult to breathe, and large monarchs had taken refuge in my stomach. I simply didn’t know how to respond; not over the miles, and not after all the times I’d pushed him away.
Once again, I could almost hear his smile as he spoke, his voice gentle. “Or, I could call every once in a while for a favour. All business.”
“That sounds good, actually.” I smiled, hoping he knew what his gesture meant to me; hoping he knew how much I wanted to hear his voice as well. “So, what do you need, Daniel?”
“There’s a kid coming to the White House tomorrow; shadowing Billie.”
“Yeah. Cavanaugh, isn’t it?” I should have been surprised he knew; it should have been my first hint that there was something going on. Instead, I drew what I thought was a fairly logical conclusion – Danny knew about the intern because he was in contact with the Post, and with Billie. The idea that he had some connection to the young man outside of journalism didn’t even cross my mind.
“Timothy.”
“Right.” I paused, flipping through some notes on my desk. “He’s also got an interview with Josh – I called in a favour.”
“That’s what we need to talk about.” He sounded worried, and that did surprise me.
I leaned forward in my chair, putting my elbows on my desk. “What is it?”
“I need you to rein Josh in.”
“You know that’s next to impossible.” I smiled, thinking Danny was teasing me.
“I need you to try.” Not teasing. I was suddenly glad I’d resisted the urge to laugh.
“All right.” I paused, hoping that Danny would hear the question in my tone. When he didn’t speak, I pressed him. “Danny?”
“He’s a kid, CJ. He’s cocky.”
“Are we talking about Josh, or Timothy?”
“Both, I suppose.” I heard him chuckle and relief flooded through me. “Can you let me know how it goes?”
“I can do that.” I wondered where this was coming from; why this kid had touched Danny so deeply. The truth of it, however, didn’t cross my mind for an instant. “I’ll sit in on the interview – I’d planned on it anyways.”
“Good.” He paused, clearing his throat. “Thanks, CJ.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
In the long list of signs I missed, the look on Carol’s face when she returned from the briefing room early the next morning numbers among the top ten. In my pre-briefing frazzled state, however, I was quick to write it off as a reaction to an energetic press room – a sight that can make the strongest person cower in fear.
I should have listened to her when she tried to warn me; I should have stopped when she grabbed my arm. But instead, I entered the press room like I always do, and stopped dead just inside the door, Carol supporting my elbow.
He was there in the fourth row, two seats over from Danny’s usual seat, and for a split second, I thought it was Danny. His hair was cropped short, its colour indeterminate in the glare of the lights – but it was his eyes that pulled me in: brilliant blue, a passion greater than his years behind them.
In the moment that passed before Carol pinched my arm, it crossed my mind. The thought that had eluded me during my conversation with Danny; the reason why he was so concerned about the boy. As quickly as it came though, it was gone. A fleeting thought pushed aside in my desire to start the briefing – and by my determination to ignore the truth.
If the corps noticed my discomfort, they chose to ignore it, taking my pause in the doorway as an opportunity for photographs. As the flashes went off around me, I made my way to the podium, seeking out anyone’s eyes but Timothy’s in the large crowd of press.
“We’ve got a guest with us today, folks.” I paused, willing myself to look his way. Nodding towards the young man, I smiled. “Timothy Cavanaugh will be shadowing Billie over the next couple of days. He’ll be getting to know the ropes – probably asking a lot of pointed questions – hope you guys can handle it.”
The group chuckled, a few nearby reporters patting the young man on the back. He looked a little surprised at the comraderie, his shoulders tensing for a moment before he raised his head. But when he did, he was smiling, an all-too-familiar twinkle in his eyes.
It was at that moment I knew. Sure, I tried to deny it like I had before. I even attempted to rationalise it. After all, I’d spoken to Danny the night before, and it had been difficult to get him out of my mind since. His smile – his eyes – had been dancing behind my vision for almost eight hours. It was only logical I would project those feelings onto the boy he cared so much about.
The problem was: I could no longer rely on logic. I was running on pure emotion.
~*~*~*~*~*~
It’s a miracle I made it through the briefing. Once the thought appeared the second time, I couldn’t silence it. It knawed at me, needling for closure. I needed to speak to Danny desperately; to put to rest, one way or another, the questions in my mind.
Fortunately, Carol was waiting for me when I exited the press room. It saved me the embarrassment of yelling for her, which, in my current mental state, I would have done – everyone else be damned. Pulling her aside, I pressed my notes into her hands, speaking softly. “Get me Danny Concannon on the phone. Just… find a way.”
I was already walking away when I felt her hand on my arm, clutching at it almost urgently. “That’s why I was waiting, CJ. He’s already on the line.”
“Did you…?”
“No.”
“Oh.” I paused, suddenly breathless. He’d known how I’d react – and if he’d known… “I guess I should…”
“Yeah.”
I don’t remember the trip back to my office. One moment I was standing outside the press room with Carol, and the next I was staring at the phone; watching the light blink. I was once again trying to rationalise my reaction to Timothy; to convince myself that Danny’s phone call did not mean what I thought.
I was once again failing miserably.
“Hey, Daniel.”
“Hi.” His voice was quiet, emotional, and I wondered what he was thinking. Did he think I was angry? Should I be?
Of all the emotions I was feeling at that moment, anger wasn’t one of them. Hurt, maybe – but even that, I knew, wasn’t justified. I had no claim on his life, no reason to be upset that he’d kept this part of himself from me. Still, I needed to know.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There was never an appropriate time.” He said the words, but he didn’t sound like he believed them.
“Last night, Danny – that would have been an appropriate time.” I hadn’t meant it to happen, but there was anger in my tone.
“I tried.” I could hear the hurt in his voice, and a hint of his own anger. He knew as well as I did that I had no right to judge. “I couldn’t find the words.”
“I’m not angry. I need you to know I’m not. But I hate being taken by surprise.”
“I know.”
We were silent for a moment, the buzz of static the only sound between us. I had so many questions, so much I needed to know. But none of it was my business, and it likely never would be. “He’s a handsome young man.”
“He looks too much like his Dad.” I could hear the smile in his voice. He was teasing me; but the words were laced with pride.
“He has your eyes. And your smile.”
“That’s what Evelyn says.” He spoke rapidly, his love for the boy clear. “He was a terror as a kid – but he could get away with anything if he flashed that smile.”
“Like his father.”
“Yeah.”
His words hung between us. The introduction of the fourth person, her, creating an uncomfortable silence. Evelyn. Timothy’s mother. I bit my lip, uncertain what to say, but knowing one of us had to speak. “He – uh – he had Billie on her toes.”
“Evelyn and I are friends, CJ.”
“It’s none of my business, Danny.”
“I want you to know.”
“All right.” I tapped on the glass of Gail’s bowl, watching her swim toward the sound. The day he’d given her to me suddenly seemed like so long ago.
Reaching into my desk drawer, I retrieved the bottle of flakes, sprinkling some along the top as Danny spoke.
“She was my high-school sweet-heart.” He paused, and I sensed he was choosing his words carefully, keeping to the basics – for my sake, and his own. “We went on to college, shared an apartment. We got careless.”
There was a note of regret in his voice, but it was far outweighed by the pride I’d heard previously. “And along came Timothy…” I said softly.
“Yeah. Just in time for final exams.”
“How did you…?”
“We muddled through. We arranged our schedules so one of us was always with him. I worked nights, weekends. My mother was a saint.”
“You never considered – you never married?”
Danny chuckled. “We were beyond Catholic guilt at that point,” he said slyly.
I blushed, thankful he couldn’t see my expression – although I had the distinct impression he knew anyways. “I just thought…”
“We considered it. But there was already so much to worry about. And we thought we had time.” He stopped, and the quiet was so complete, I wondered if we’d lost our connection.
“Danny –”
“Three years of very little sleep caught up with me. I’d always made sure Evelyn took care of herself, of Timothy, but I wasn’t as careful.” This time, the regret was palatable. “I was bedridden for a month, I lost a term, and I lost Evelyn.”
“She left you?” I couldn’t hide my shock, and I didn’t even bother to try. After all he’d done, all they’d been through together, I couldn’t believe she’d just leave.
“It wasn’t like that. Without our hectic schedule, we realised how far apart we’d grown. We’d hung together in desperation…but once we were able to breathe…”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry.” And I was. For all he’d been through, and for making him relive it.
“I’m not. Not really. That boy is the best thing that ever happened to me.” The pride was back, with none of the previous regret. I felt tears well up in my eyes, and turned towards the window, looking out over the lawn.
“Danny -”
“Yeah?”
“You should be proud of him. He’s a good man, he’ll be a good reporter.”
“You think so?”
“He was feeding Billie questions.”
“Cocky little bugger.”
He was smiling. I could see it as clearly as I’d seen Timothy’s an hour before.
“Just like his father.”
Danny laughed and it brought a smile to my face. “Yeah. I suppose that’s true.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
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