I Am Now

Beth


Sam Seaborn sighed in relief when he reached Ainsley's apartment door. He'd checked the master list of home phone numbers and addresses before leaving the office but had become hopelessly lost for the last hour. Finally a woman out walking her poodle had helped him. He hesitated: maybe he should call before going up. No, she could very well tell him not to come, or tell him her resignation would be on Oliver Babish's desk in the morning, or worse, she might be entertaining a guy. No, he didn't want to think that could be it. Besides he'd driven all the way over here because he wanted, scratch that, he needed, to talk to her before things got worse. So he'd better go up. The first thing that struck Sam when he stood outside the apartment door was the aroma. It was wonderful. He felt like he'd stepped inside a small town bakery. The second thing that struck him was the sounds of Mikado playing in the background. This must be the place. He tapped on the door. He waited several minutes then tapped again.

"I'm coming, hold your horses!" Ainsley replied. "I didn't want these to burn." She looked in the peep hole then looked again. "SAM?!" she said opening the door. "What are you doing here at this hour?"

He ran his hand through his hair nervously. "I, um, Ainsley, I need to talk to you."

She hesitated. She'd seen Dateline and along with everyone else in American and knew that President Bartlett had MS. And he'd hidden that fact. Ainsley knew that there were staffers in the White House who were probably flooding the Washington Bars right now. But she'd watched the show in her yoga stuff so didn't feel like cleaning up enough to go out. Not that a pink squirrel wouldn't go down pretty good but what she really wanted was sugar! And lots of it. It started simply enough with a loaf of cinnamon bread tossed into her bread machine but that would take an hour and half and she needed something now. She scoured the kitchen and threw together some peanut butter cookies. But that still wasn't enough to see her through this crisis - it was after all a constitutional emergency. It was time for the big guns. She needed chocolate and she needed it NOW. First her favourite chocolate chip cookies and then after watching the live announcement that President Bartlett was seeking reelection, she popped a batch of the official Emergency Cookies in the oven. They were reverse chocolate chip - cocoa in the dough and white chocolate chunks. Truly decadent, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Ainsley took a long look at Sam. The last time Sam had come to see her looking like that he had practically abrogated the privilege of former Gage Whitney clients - the owners of the ill fated India. Yet now, like then, he had on his lost puppy dog face and she was a sucker for it. She stepped aside and he entered the apartment. They stood facing one another in silence for a moment then her timer went off.

"I gotta get that," she said going down the hall to her kitchen. She reached into the oven and swapped the sheet with another tray of un-baked ones. "Come on in. Pull up a chair."

Sam looked at the array of treats on the kitchen counter in awe. "Moonlighting, Counsellor?"

"Very funny, help yourself," she said dryly. "I bake to release tension. Whatever doesn't get eaten tonight will get dropped at the youth center on my way to work tomorrow." She sounded cold. A bit distant.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I really am sorry."

"For what?" she asked tonelessly.

"I don't believe for a New York Minute that you didn't watch Dateline." He reached for the cookie sheet and spatula.

"Oh. Yeah, I watch Dateline all the time. I think it's very important for Americans to stay informed. Sam, don't touch that it's still HOT!"

"Yow!" he hollered, dropping the tray and its contents all over the floor. She grabbed his hand and shoved it under cold running water. "It'll be all right."

"I told you not to touch it! Let me see," she pulled his hand up for a closer look and turned off the tap. "I don't think it's going to blister."

His eyes met hers. "I yelled more in surprise than pain. I want you to know, I didn't want you to find out like that...Dateline I mean." He sighed expecting her to let go of his hand but was pleasantly surprised when she didn't.

"Sam, you don't owe me any kind of explanation."

"Maybe not but I feel like I do. I wanted to tell you this afternoon but you were still in Rhode Island on the India thing. Ainsley look, before this gets even crazier," his voice dropped, "it's important to me that you believe me." He lifted her chin to meet his eye. "The Republicans, hell even some Democrats, they're gonna be all over us in the next few months. We may not get another chance to talk like this. You and I have worked hard to earn one another's respect and, I don't want to jeopardise that. So, however you want to do this, on or off the record, lawyer to client, Republican to Democrat or friend to friend, I don't care which, I came here tonight to answer any questions you might have. All of them so," he drew a deep breath, "fire away."

"Sam," she said sadly. "I only have one question." She let out a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding, "are you okay?"

"That's it?" He was stunned. "I was expecting a nuclear assault like, how long have I known? How'd we keep it covered up? Who lied? Is CJ going to be the sacrificial lamb? And all you've got to say for yourself is am I OKAY?" He wasn't sure. He was still in shock. He'd been angry they waited to tell him last. Yeah, he knew why they'd waited but, he still felt a man overboard. In the last month he'd learned that the two heros in his life, his dad and Josiah Bartlett, both had feet of clay. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. Wasn't she the 'enemy' so how could she just stand there and ask that? Only that?

"Sam, I know you." Then she let go of his hand but paused to ever so softly caress his cheek. She smiled ever so slightly. "I'm sure of only one thing tonight. If Sam Seaborn had known about this during the election, or even during the midterms, it would have been a campaign issue. You would have made them see that keeping this under wraps and not letting the people decide for themselves was wrong. I mean, well you would have wanted to make sure President Bartlett wasn't in any danger and then you'd have made sure that MS was the most talked about condition in America. You'd have made sure . . ."

Sam grabbed her shoulders. "How can you be so sure about that? I'm not even that sure."

"You're going to have to be, Sam. And you're going to have to project an image that you're that sure. They're going to come after you swords drawn and you have to remember you are the person I think you are and you can't let them rattle you. You can't let them make you doubt yourself. If they think they've cracked you, they'll get the smell of blood and nothing will shake them from your trail. The truth may not be enough! Now, I thought you promised you'd answer my question. Are you okay?"

"I am now." He said gathering her into a gentle hug genuinely touched by her concern and marvelling that she was the only one who'd asked it. "I am now."


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