The Road Ahead
Part 8
MAB
"Sam, a Dr. Alcott is on line two," Kathy announced to her boss from the
door.
Sam froze for a moment then picked up the phone. "Thanks, Kathy," he
replied, dismissing her. She frowned, left and closed the door behind her.
However, as the blinds were partially opened, she stood by them. She could
see her boss speaking into the receiver and use a hand to wipe the side of
his face, as his expression fell. Kathy then saw Sam put the phone back
down and manoeuvre his seat to face the outside window.
"That's it," she murmured to herself and went inside without knocking for
once.
Sam noticed this unlikely gesture performed by his assistant. "Is something
wrong?" he asked, as the door closed.
She sat down. "You tell me," she replied.
"What do you mean?" Sam evaded.
Kathy changed positions in her seat. "Sam, I've known you for a while now."
Sam nodded. "You were my assistant at Gage Whitney," he acknowledged. "Then I stole you from them."
"And why did you do that?" she reminded him.
Sam sighed. "Because you were the best, and I knew that you wanted to do
more than push around papers that dealt with oil companies. And you
probably know more about me than anyone else in this town. Besides Josh and
the Secret Service, that is."
"Including your evasion techniques," she put in.
Sam looked at her. "Maybe," he conceded.
"So," Kathy said expectedly.
"So what?"
"So why is a Dr. Alcott calling you? I know that you haven't been feeling
very well lately. Did you finally get a physician?" Ever since they moved
to Washington, Sam hadn't had a physician--and despite the fact that he
hadn't gotten any colds or flu's since she had met him, he had always been
one for being accident-prone. Though she had to admit that he hadn't done
anything serious to warrant a trip to the emergency room. Yet.
"In a way," Sam admitted, as he nodded slowly.
"So what's wrong?" his assistant persisted. At Sam's hesitation, she added,
"And don't give me the run-around like you do for Josh; he may fall for it,
but I won't."
Sam sighed, knowing that she was right, but he still didn't want to tell her
just yet. "I can't tell you."
"Why not?" she demanded indignantly.
"Because you'll tell all the others and then everyone will know, when I
don't want everyone to know just yet."
"Who will I tell, Sam?"
"Oh I don't know; Bonnie, Ginger, Margaret and Donna," Sam listed. "Then
they'll talk among themselves, then someone will overhear you and then it
will get to everyone else. And by the way, it's 'whom,' not 'who.'"
Kathy sighed and put up her right hand. "I won't tell anyone, Scout's
honor," she promised.
"Won't work."
"Why not?"
"Because you were never a Scout."
"Don't get into technicalities with me. Sam, tell me. I promise that I
won't tell anyone." Silence. Kathy sighed. "Sam, you've been making calls
to, or receiving them from him." She leaned back. "So I repeat, who is Dr.
Alcott?"
Sam also leaned back. He was cornered and he knew it. He also knew that
Kathy, once she gave her word, always kept it--no matter how much it would
eat at her, too. He would need her, and he would need her support and
friendship badly. "He's my onocologist," the deputy communications director
admitted.
Kathy nodded. "Okay, so he's your oncolo..." she trailed as she peered into
Sam's earnest face, his answer sinking in and what it meant. "Oh my god."
He was telling the truth, she would see it on his face.
Sam got up and went to close the blinds. "I um, I was diagnosed last week,
but they had to do one last test, a bone marrow biopsy."
"Which was why you were limping," Kathy deduced as she looked at her boss.
Sam nodded as he walked to the chair beside her. "Yeah," he admitted as he
sat down beside her. "Because I was anaemic, they were pretty well knew
that it was down there, too."
"Leukaemia?" she asked.
Her boss shook his head. "No, Hodgkin's Disease," he corrected.
"But it's in the marrow," his assistant persisted.
"Yeah, it's there. It's also on the diaphragm, the neck and the underarm,"
Sam added.
"Wait a minute," Kathy interjected, "You said that you had a bone marrow
biopsy because they pretty well 'knew' that it was there. That means that
they didn't know for sure."
"Kathy, with my blood count, they were fairly sure, believe me."
"Then why did you have the test done?" she challenged.
"Because... you know why," he dismissed.
"I can hypothesize," she admitted. "But you just said that it *was* there.
That's what the call was about, wasn't it? It's been confirmed."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, it's there." He swallowed. "The doctor wants to see me
this afternoon about...stuff."
Kathy gazed down onto her lap.
Cancer.
Sam had cancer.
The one person, who was probably the healthiest of all the staff, had a
disease.
"But you'll get better, right?" she asked hopefully, as she remembered
someone else who had died of cancer, shortly after the inauguration.
Sam smiled. "I'm not giving up, and that's all I can promise."
Kathy appeared distressed at this. "Sam..."
"Hey," Sam interrupted, "I'll be fine. But I'm going to need your help to
run interference every so often."
"Done," she promised. "How did the others react when you told them?" Now
it was Sam's turn to gaze onto the floor. Realisation dawned onto her.
"That's what you meant by 'everyone,' isn't it? They don't know." Kathy
gave a humourless laugh. "They can't know or else we'd all have heard by
now."
Now it was Sam who gave a humourless laugh. "With everything that's been
going on?" he asked. "No, between Josh, the breakfast and everything else,
when do you think would have been a good time to tell them?"
"Sam."
"Kathy, the President and the First Lady know, Kyle knows and now you do. I
will tell the others, but not now. I can't. I want to, but I...can't."
Kathy glanced at Sam. "You need some time to deal with it yourself," she
interpreted.
Sam had learned never to be amazed by his assistant, but he was caught
off-guard by this. Yep, she did know him. "Yeah."
"I still don't like it."
"I'm not asking you to," Sam replied. "I'm just asking for you not to tell
anyone. I'll tell them, but I have to figure out a way to do it--and don't
say 'just say it,' as it's not going to work." Kathy nodded. "Could you
please cancel my apointments from 2:30-on? I have a three o'clock
appointment and I can't miss it."
"Done," she whispered as she got up and headed for the door. When Sam
followed suit, she quickly turned and hugged him. He was surprised at this
but hugged her back. "Don't you dare give up," she demanded harshly, as she
felt tears pool up. "Fight this with everything you've got."
"I will." He let go and gazed at her. "I'm going to need you, Kathy. I'm
*really* going to need you, and Kyle, and Josh and everyone else."
"I'll be here," she assured him. "I'll be here for when you need me."
"I know," he replied, "And I love you for it."
Kathy smiled. "Well, what else would you expect from someone who's like a
little sister to you? Even if she does scare you."
Sam chuckled. "I'm not even going to ask how you found that out."
"I'm glad to see that some of my secrets will still be intact."
"Go and save me from some politician this afternoon."
The communications assistant opened the door and went for her desk, leaving
Sam to close the door behind her. For some reason, he wanted a little peace
and quiet. Even if it was only for a few minutes.
*****
Sam was beginning to hate that day. He had wanted a few minutes of peace
after speaking with Kathy, and he didn't even get that! Josh immediately
came inside and mentioned that a meeting was to take place in the Oval
office. The President had raised some eyebrows--namely Leo's--when the
former manoeuvred himself into sitting beside Sam. Oh, it wasn't overt (at
least, POTUS had tried not to be), but Leo had noticed. After the said
meeting, Sam and Toby went into the latter's office to work, which Sam
thought in retrospect wasn't... Oh hell, Toby was still mad and the way
that he was acting... 'That really made my day complete,' he thought. Then
there was a meeting with Senator Ross that he didn't want to go to, but
didn't have a choice. 'Must kill Josh,' he noted shortly after he left the
bore--err, senator. Afterwards, he had to speak to Josh and Toby about the
meeting and the results that came from it (Ross was a Democrat but a very
conservative one at that). The State of the Union address was coming up, so
he was still getting prepared for that. That was the only thing that he was
looking forward to, as it would actually *mean* something. Well, that and
the fact that he would have an active part in it--unless Toby decided to do
another drop-in at that (which he didn't think the Coommunications Director
would do).
At a Quarter after two, the President came by Sam's office giving Sam a
note, and in front of an audience, ordered him to deliver it to the address
on the front. GW. At reading those letters, Sam stared at Kathy, who
concentrated on her computer and on looking as innocent as possible. He
gave a small smile and left. He deliberately thought of nothing on his way
to the hospital, as it seemed that whenever he actually tried to think of
something, everything got all jumbled up inside and he had the notion that
he would feel like that after the appointment, so why should he feel like
that now? The same held true as he parked the car, entered the hospital and
then the elevator. But he knew that something was up, when he got off onto
his floor.
Secret Service agents. Oh, they looked like businessmen. If you discounted
the fact that they were all wearing earpieces and trenchcoats, that is.
Well, that and the fact that he'd seen these particular agents before. He
nodded to one and walked down the hallway, coming to the conclusion that he
would be having company.
He went to Alcott's office. "Hello, Sam," the First Lady greeted, as she
handed him a clipboard with papers on it.
Papers that were already filled out, he noted as he sat down.
"Hospital forms, insurance forms?" He looked at her. "How did you get them
and fill them out so quickly?"
Abigail Bartlet shrugged. "I'm a doctor, Sam. If it's one thing I know how
to do, it's filling out forms. And as for the insurance forms, they're the
same ones that everyone on staff has--including the President and myself."
Sam nodded, continuing to read. "You're listed as my GP." He gazed at her.
"I don't have a GP."
"You do now."
"Ma'am..."
"Sam, do you want to have a nice discussion right now about this?"
Sam swallowed. "No, not really."
"Well, then," Abbey answered.
"You know that you really don't have to do this," Sam furthered.
"I know that, Sam."
"I mean, I don't want to impose or anything."
"Sam," Abbey interrupted in an exasperated voice, "If you don't stop soon,
I'll start feeling insulted."
"Sorry," he apologised.
"Accepted." Abbey noticed that they were entertaining the receptionist and
smiled at her. "Children," she said. Sam wisely let that one go by and
continued to read. After he was satisfied, he signed both forms.
"I don't suppose that you know what's on the agenda?" Sam asked, already
knowing the answer.
"I may have an idea," Abbey replied, picking up a magazine and opening it.
"Oh. Okay. So, what are we going to do today?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
"Ma'am?"
"Oh, before I forget..." The First Lady put down the magazine and reached
for her purse. Upon opening it, she retrieved a folded up piece of paper
and handed it to Sam.
"What is it?" he asked as he began to open it. The First Lady said nothing
as Sam went red at its contents. "How?"
"Your brother can be fairly sneaky, Sam," she said, "Apparently he made a
copy of it while you were in the restroom at George's--I assume that you had
told him that the President would want to meet him?" Sam nodded. "Anyway,
he apparently palmed this to my husband when you weren't looking."
"Must kill Kyle."
Abbey laughed. "That's what the President said you would say."
"Why are some circled in red?"
"Well, I am a doctor, Sam, and though I may not be in general practice right
now, I will be again one day. Therefore, I think that it's prudent that I
keep informed with what's going on, in the field of medicine."
"And?"
"It's also prudent for me to keep in touch with colleagues, asking them
questions..."
"You called someone?!?"
"Actually, I called several people and this is what they suggested. And
based on the information that I got, the one with the black star beside it,
is what I would recommend."
Sam's face went redder if possible at this. "Ah, geez..."
"Samuel," Abbey admonished.
"Um, thank-you, Ma'am, I don't mean to seem rude or anything, but... It's
just that... Well, I may seem like an idiot for saying this, but this is
sort of embarrassing."
Abbey shrugged. "It has to be done, Sam." She went back to her magazine.
"Oh, and you have to be there at six tonight."
Sam's eyes went wide open. "You made an appointment?"
The First Lady smiled, enjoying this. "I am your GP, Sam. Along with Mike
and Brad, I will have some control over what goes on in your life. Even if
it's for an appointment for the sperm bank."
"Oh."
"As you'll notice, it's after hours because knowing you, you don't want the
press finding out about this before anyone else, right?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Sam dutifully replied.
"Also, for this particular place, we won't have to worry about any--pardon
the phrase--leaks."
"I'll ignore the pun, Ma'am."
"Call me Abbey." Sam turned to look at her. "No, really. Call me Abbey."
Sam hesitated. "How about you give me a bit of time, with that one?"
"No problem," the First Lady replied, knowing that Sam would have a
difficult time with that request for the next while. But he would
eventually call her by name, of that she was certain of.
The door opened. "Hello, Sam, Abbey," Mike Alcott greeted, "Come on in."
To be continued
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