Reflections: Rule of Law
Lynn Jepsen
Sam called me and begged me to come to DC and help him. Can we say
strange? Joe is bouncing through the house, and I hate summer for no
other reason than the fact that school's out. Of course, Sam doesn't have
that problem. Elle goes to prep school year round, and I wonder what that
does to a kid. After all, summer vacation's supposed to be the best part
of childhood.
Not, of course, that I'm going to tell him that.
Somehow, I don't think summer vacation is his fondest memory of
childhood, and Lisa thinks the school's great, so who am I to tell them
how to raise their daughter. Toby's whining already at the thought of
going to DC, and if he doesn't show a little support for, you know, Sam,
I'm going to make him sleep on the couch. "Mommy! Dad said we were going
to visit Uncle Sam and Aunt Lisa 'cause Uncle Sam was loony!" Toby, you
are toast.
He sticks his head in with an apologetic look plastered to it. "I didn't
say that, CJ. I swear." I cross my arms, tap my foot, and glare.
Apparently that look doesn't have a statute of limitations because even
after six decades of coexisting peacefully with a planet chock full of
women, he still cowers under that look. "I said Sam was insane if he
thought I was running back. Two completely different things." Good,
because I'm calling the travel agent.
*
Lisa's pacing. According to Sam, she hasn't slept since the lawyers
stopped by her office with the news. This is worse than election night
2014. We honestly thought we were going to lose reelection, and that
week, that week with the Supreme Court and the lawyers, and the spin, and
Shrub's campaign staff running around like escapees from the mental
hospital, the staff didn't sleep at all. Lisa and Josh took turns pacing
for their own nerves, or talking calmly for Sam's nerves, and Diana and
Carol camped out in the press room. I think there was a press conference
every twenty minutes for six days. Then, of course, there was Toby and I,
yelling randomly at anyone that came into earshot. It was rough. My
point? This is worse.
This is like the funeral all over again, and I'm not sure what to do. I
mean, I'm supposed to be the steadying influence here, but I'm not sure
I'm ready for another round. I'm fifty-nine years old. I've served two
Presidents. I manage to live with Toby. I manage not to kill Toby. I
exist in a world full of lawyers and politicians, and I manage. I just
wish I knew how to manage this. It should be rescheduled. This man - he
should not get his day in court. Summer's tough. It's out to get us.
Rosslyn was in the summer, just as the weather turned. Bartlet was
assassinated in the summer. Leo fell off the wagon in the summer. Abby
Bartlet was diagnosed with cancer in the summer. Samantha died of
meningitis in the summer. We declared war in the summer. Sam sank his
sailboat in the summer. They shot at us in the summer. Leo died in the
summer. Josh was lost in the summer. May to August isn't a good time for
us to venture out in public. Actually, starting next year, I think I'm
spending the summer in Switzerland - deny the sun, and maybe summer won't
come.
Lisa? She doesn't stop pacing, but she does nod in my direction. I can
hear Elle and Joe raising hell in the backyard. Sam and Toby are yelling
at them for taking flying leaps out of the tree house, but so far, no
broken bones. At this point, as long as Joe doesn't hurt himself, I'm not
going to say anything. If he hasn't learned by now how not to break
bones, then he's wasted half his childhood. I'm just thankful he doesn't
take after Toby. Who could live with a cynical ten-year old?
I grab her by the arm, and she shrugs then, she drops heavily into a
chair in the breakfast nook and stares out the open window at the menfolk
milling around near the barbecue. "They're going to set someone on fire."
Yeah, most likely Sam. "Do you think the Secret Service would intervene?"
I wouldn't know. I don't have to live with them. She shakes her head
then, with this odd grin on her face. "He adores Elle. I just wish you
and Toby were around more. He misses arguing with Toby." I'll trade him.
He can argue with Toby for a few decades.
We don't talk for a brief interval, and I'm not sure what to say, but
this is progress. This is progress because Josh isn't screaming, and Sam
isn't staring off into space, and Lisa isn't pacing. This is definitely
progress. I'm sure it will all be undone in court tomorrow, but for
today, it's progress.
"DONNATELLA MARIE SEABORN GET DOWN FROM THERE!" Josh is standing at the
base of the tree staring up, and yelling. I move my eyes up from the
trunk and catch a glimpse of Sam climbing the ladder. Elle is higher up
on the tree, and she's trying to swing from one of those long branches
onto the roof of the house. Lisa is standing up, trying to suppress a
smirk. "He's going to fall out of the tree." I stare at her for a second,
and then hear Toby roar at Sam. He fell out of the tree. God, I'm glad we
kept him away from arboreal obstacles when he was President. Carol and I
couldn't have survived if he did this kind of stuff regularly.
I hear a thump on the roof above us, but Elle is still out in the tree
trying to swing over, which means.... Wait, I can't see Joe in the tree.
Then Toby hollers. "JOSIAH ZIEGLER STOP THAT!" These men and fatherhood.
It's downright scary.
Lisa sinks down into the chair then, and chugs a cup of coffee. "You do
realize you'll have to testify or something." Not on your life. You can
talk, Sam can talk, hell, I'm sure Josh won't be able to shut up. I'm
just here for moral support. "Claudia Jean...." No way. I was left out of
this for a reason. I know nothing, I saw nothing. I was as surprised as
the press corps. "Did we ever apologize for that?" You didn't, but
believe me, by the time Toby and I left for London, the boys had
groveled. I believe Josh even went so far as to beg forgiveness on his
hands and knees, of course, that might have had something to do with not
wanting to be left alone in a Hoynes White House. Like there was a prayer
of me suffering through that.
There's a second thump on the roof then, and the guys holler loudly at
Elle. Lisa doesn't look perturbed in the least, and while I'm sure Joe
has never been on the roof of our flat, I'm just going to follow her role
here. When in Rome..... Then I hear the noise on the steps and the kids
barrel through the kitchen and back outside. Apparently, I look as
surprised as I feel, because she laughs and tells me they came in through
the attic. Right. I knew that.
"CJ, it's alright to admit you're nervous." Why should I be nervous? Just
because, you know, my kid is jumping off roofs where, you know, Secret
Service sniper teams hang out, is no reason for me to worry. "CJ, I
worry. Sam worries. It's alright." How exactly did we ever survive the
White House? She takes another drink out of her coffee, and I'm suddenly
left wondering if anyone in the town has avoided a caffeine addiction.
"We survived because there's too many of us to do in, and we stick
together too well. Divide and conquer just doesn't work as a tactic."
Right, well, excuse me, but when did you become calm and relaxed?
Sam stumbles into the kitchen, covered with grass stains and announces
that dinner is ready. It's about time. Then I hear the doorbell, and I
can hear the agent letting Diana and Ainsley inside, and I'm sure they've
got bad news. I just hope it can wait until after dinner.
Reflections 3: Bring Us This Day
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