BONNIE AND TOBY
You might want to know why I’m sitting in a car with Josh, speeding towards some unknown diner. Unfortunately, it’s not what it looks like. We are not on our way to a romantic getaway. No, no, no, no, no. We are on our way to get pie. And that’s not some euphemism for sex. The pie is for Toby. Who made Ginger cry. Toby never makes Ginger cry. They are so good together, and although Toby doesn’t say, I know that he treasures Ginger. She knows a bunch of poems and she is a quotes freak.
But Toby made her cry tonight and that’s why I’m sitting in a car with Josh, speeding towards some unknown diner. And we don’t know where we are. We are pretty much lost, but that’s not something Josh would admit. That’s a lengthy tale to tell, but basically it comes down to the fact that Josh is a man. Which is not a problem on its own, but you know men. They pride themselves with their infallible sense of direction (as opposed to women), which is apparently a result of the fact that they were hunters and that women were gatherers. This, in my interpretation, means that we women are not afraid of asking for directions, but men are buffoons who would feel unmanly if they had to.
But first of all, I have to explain this pie-situation. Toby loves pie. Apple-pie is his favorite, pecan pie a close second. Also Toby can’t work without pie. I guess it is his way to relieve stress. And tomorrow there is a very important speech. A crucial moment in the Bartlet for America campaign. We are back to Indiana to help with the House seats that are up to contest. Indiana is usually a Red State, but Democratic Representatives are not a rarity, so we are here to help them. And Toby has to write a speech that could eventually turn Red to Blue. I don’t know whether one single speech could do that, all I know is that if one would tell me that I had to write that particular speech I would be extremely nervous. So both Toby and Ginger are nervous. Sam was even banned from Toby’s room.
Ginger came running into my room, crying because Toby snapped at her. But then she pleaded with me to help her find pie. On a Sunday night in the middle of nowhere in Indiana. Well, miracles happen. Only not in Indiana. Don’t get me wrong, I like Indiana, they are nice people and I find them refreshing after yuppie metropolitans and elitist snobs, but you don’t really expect me to find apple-pie on a Sunday night, right? And that’s what I told Ginger who then broke down and cried even more.
I marched into Josh’s room, demanding the car keys to the rental car. CJ and Sam watched us with barely hidden amusement. ‘Glad to be of service,’ I thought sarcastically while telling Josh that this is a national emergency. He pulled out the keys but wanted to know why I needed the car. And when he heard the reason he didn’t want to give me the keys. And then I did something unladylike and completely unprofessional. I launched myself at him, ignoring even the feelings when our bodies came into contact, and wrestled him for the keys. He clearly didn’t see that coming. He can’t read me the way I can read him. He didn’t sense that I was boiling with anger, anxiety and anticipation. Both Sam and CJ looked at me with wide eyes when I emerged with the keys. I straightened my clothes and wanted to leave the room when Josh’s voice stopped me.
“Donatella Moss, freeze right there!” he said in that cold voice I hate so much. He usually doesn’t use it with me, but I hate it nonetheless.
“I’m sorry, Joshua, no time for apologies,” I told him and breezed out of the room. It clearly didn’t occur to me that the little action displayed in front of Sam and CJ could cost me my job. At least not until I reached the elevator.
“Oh, my Gosh!” I dashed back into the room and took a look at Josh’s face. “I’m so sorry, Josh! I’m so terribly sorry,” I told him. “I wasn’t thinking and I was really angry and anxious. Sorry!” I pleaded with him, not daring to utter my misgivings about the possibility of losing my job. And then I wanted to leave the room again.
“Donatella, stop!” Josh stopped me with his words. “I’m sorry for not giving you the keys,” he said. Okay, apparently CJ had a talking-to with him, or maybe he was coming down with something.
“No, really, I’ve conducted myself clearly not according to my status as your assistant and I apologize,” I told him, and received an arched eyebrow from Josh and CJ.
“Okay, let’s go,” he said then, grabbing his coat, waving at Sam and CJ.
We were waiting for the elevator in complete silence, me still fretting about my earlier deeds, and Josh was… The first time since I knew him I didn’t know what he was thinking.
“Josh…” I tried to apologize again, but the elevator arrived. He guided me into it with his hand on the small of my back. I felt that maybe there was hope for my keeping the job. But first I really had to apologize. “Josh…” I tried again once we stepped inside but he cut me off.
“Donna, I really hope you know that you are more than an assistant to me,” he told me. Okay, I would be lying if I said that my heart hadn’t skipped a beat at that. “I consider you as a friend, Donna, I hope you know that.”
So not a lover but a friend. Yeah, we are friends, I knew that. Or else he wouldn’t allow me to order salad and he wouldn’t even consider eating it. I guess he wouldn’t have come for me in Hartfield’s Landing, and maybe he wouldn’t have taken me back after I left him. Yeah, we are friends. That’s all I’ll ever be to Josh, only I don’t know how much longer it will suffice. But I don’t want to lose his friendship nor my job as his assistant, so I will keep my cool around him in the future, just like I did until this evening.
“I know. It’s just… It was completely inappropriate in front of CJ and Sam,” I whisper to him.
“They were surprised but then laughed, Donna. They told me I was an idiot for baiting you when you were obviously stressed,” he admitted.
“You were baiting me?” I asked, suddenly saddened.
“Yeah, I’m not proud of it. But I like teasing you, Donna. I would have given you the keys in a minute or so, forgive me for not realizing how important this was for you.”
Did hell freeze over? Joshua Lyman apologized to me. Twice in a short period of time.
“Okay, I accept your apology if you accept mine,” I told him.
“Let’s forget this little episode,” he said and then got back the key from me. “I’ll drive.”
And that’s when it hits me the first time. I hadn’t allowed myself to relive the scene for fear of losing my composure but after Josh said ‘forget it’ I realized that I couldn’t. Not the feeling of our bodies pressed together, the feeling of our hands clasped for a brief moment when I grabbed the key. What possessed me to do this? Was it sexual frustration, anger, anxiety? I analyzed the scene again, trying to imagine what I would have done if Sam would have played Josh’s part. Probably not the same. I would have pleaded with him, or more likely he would have given me the key without baiting me. Well, I had gotten myself into something that I’m clearly not capable of dealing with, so I just have to do what Josh suggested, I have to forget it.
After coming to the conclusion, I realized that we were lost. Josh said that we temporarily gotten off the way we were supposed to take. Which is clearly a euphemism for being lost in the middle of nowhere in Indiana.
“Joshua, let’s stop at the next human habitation and ask for directions,” I plead with him, but my plea is met with silence. And then I spot a bus station. And there is woman waiting for the bus. “Stop right there!” I order Josh, and sure thing he slams on the brakes, skidding to a halt not far from the bus stop. “Wait here,” I tell Josh, but he protests. “Wait here and have the motor run, maybe we have to get out of here real fast.”
“Not your hunches again, Donna,” he whines, but then nods. I climb out of the car and approach the stop cautiously.
“Hi!” I greet the young woman approximately my age with a smile. She doesn’t return the smile and merely nods as a greeting. “I think we are lost and I just wanted to ask whether you knew how to get back to town or better how to get to the nearest diner where I could find an apple pie.”
“The town is that way,” she points out. “But don’t expect a diner with apple pie. In fact, I don’t know of any diners which are open on a Sunday night. There was one not far from here, but it’s closed down.”
“Well, thank you for your help. Are you waiting for the bus?” Okay, I know, I can’t help myself. Maybe she needs help.
“No, not as such,” she says, shaking her head.
“So you are just sitting here in the middle of nowhere?” I ask again, against my better judgment.
“Well, basically yes. I was left here,” she admits then.
“In the middle of the night?” I ask incredulously.
“It was my boyfriend and it was still afternoon when he drove away. He told me he would come back,” she says, her voice betraying her hurt. “We had a fight; he said I needed to calm down so he told me to get out of the car and that he would come back for me two hours later.”
“And he didn’t come back?” I ask her sympathetically. The bastard!
“No, he did come back,” she says. What?! “I just didn’t feel like I should go back with him.”
“Pride is a really bad counselor,” I tell her. I know, I was there once.
“Yeah, I know now,” she says.
“Do you want a lift to town?” I offer her.
“My grandmother lives in a little house outside of town,” she says hesitantly.
“No problem, you just have to navigate. Don’t tell him but Josh has a crappy sense of direction,” I whisper to her.
“Josh is your boyfriend?” she asks innocently. Yeah, I wish.
“No, he is my boss. My name is Donna. Donna Moss, I work for the Bartlet for America Campaign.”
“My name is Bonnie Johnson. You are really with the campaign?”
“Yeah,” I confirm, and lead her to the car. “Josh, this is Bonnie, she missed the bus and we have to take her to her grandmother’s place. She will tell you the way.” I hop into the backseat, leaving Bonnie the front one to navigate.
Bonnie throws me a thankful look, yeah, no need to disclose everything to Josh. I will tell him sooner or later because I don’t really like lying to him, but not in front of Bonnie.
“Hi,” Josh greets her, and she tells him to turn the car around.
“You are coming tomorrow to the event?” I ask Bonnie.
“Yes, my grandmother is an activist,” Bonnie explains. “She goes to every political event. And she likes your guy.”
“That’s certainly good to hear,” Josh says with a grin. “You live here or you just came to visit your grandmother?” he tries the small talk.
“I live with her since my parents died when I was ten,” Bonnie says. We both express our condolences but she shrugs it off. “I lived with my parents but it was my grandmother who raised me,” she tells us, and we nod. “She is really interested about what your guy wants to say concerning the Family Health and Wellness Act.”
I make a mental note to relay this to Toby and then a thought hits me.
“What’s wrong?” Josh asks me, I guess he can sense my moods after all.
“Nothing,” I tell him, and then turn back my attention to Bonnie. “And you like living here?”
“Well, not recently,” Bonnie tells me, referring to the dispute between her and her boyfriend, and I nod.
“I heard that they shut down the Furniture Factory last month,” Josh says out of the blue. “You had a job there?”
Bonnie lets out a laugh, and then tells him why she doesn’t like to live here ‘recently’.
“I have a job at the Chamber of Commerce. It’s not what I dreamed of when I got my BA from Hanover College but it’s a job. I also help out in grandmother’s bakery, so it’s not that bad.”
“A BA in what?” I ask her, getting excited that my idea could work after all.
“I majored in Communications,” Bonnie tells us. It is getting better and better. “With a French minor.”
Okay, wait for Josh Lyman to crack some French joke.
“Donna knows French,” Josh says, making me blush. “She wanted a minor in French.”
“Really? What did you do instead?”
“Played the dumb, naďve blonde?” I ask tentatively. Josh’s eyes catch mine in the rearview mirror, and he smiles apologetically. Yeah, too late for that but sweet of him nonetheless.
“You took Drama?” Bonnie asks, not catching the sarcasm.
“That too, but no. I don’t have a degree,” I tell her. Yeah, it still hurts. But I can’t dwell on it; I’ll get my degree eventually. Sooner or later. Right after Leo tells Josh that he can’t bring me into the White House or right after we lose this election. Not that that is an option. We will win this election. Governor Bartlet is the ‘real thing’ and he has to win. Although if Toby had pie he would stand a better chance. “Are you sure there is no diner open? Or a place where I could buy pie?”
“I could ask my grandmother if she has left anything from the bakery,” Bonnie says, looking at me like I’m a madwoman or something.
“The Governor has to deliver an important speech tomorrow, his speechwriter is nervous and when he is nervous and has to work throughout the night he needs pie,” I explain.
“Really?”
“Yeah, he is that way,” I tell her. “But he is a great guy.”
“Would that be Toby Ziegler or Sam Seaborn?” Bonnie asks, surprising both of us. “Although, I don’t think Mr. Seaborn is a fan of pie,” she adds contemplatively.
“How do you know their names?” I ask her.
“I had a course, COM 326, The Rhetoric of Presidential Speeches. We mostly covered State of the Unions, Inaugurals and some campaign speeches, but since then I’m really interested in presidential speeches,” Bonnie imparts.
“That’s interesting,” I say, and then grin mostly for myself.
“So, who is the pie fan?” Bonnie redirects the conversation.
“Sam loves pie, but not as religiously as Toby,” Josh informs Bonnie with a chuckle. Bonnie laughs out loud, and we arrive at her grandmother’s.
“And may I ask why the two of you are out hunting for pie? Does Mr. Ziegler have no secretaries?”
“Ginger is his assistant and my friend. I volunteered to get pie while she helps him with the speech,” I explain. “Josh had the car keys,” I add then, smiling sheepishly at Josh. I hope we are okay again. Yeah, we are, judging by the dimples appearing on his face.
“Grandma, I’m home!” Bonnie calls out, and I stare in awe. I mean I’m surprised. I thought Bonnie’s grandmother would be African-American just like Bonnie, but she is obviously not. She is a small lady with steel grey hair and a piercing look in her eyes.
“You brought guests?”
“They are nice people, Grandma. They brought me home. I had an argument with Greg,” Bonnie tells her grandmother.
“I know he had been here already. He wanted me to convince you to go back to him and be his wife,” Bonnie’s grandmother informs her.
“Will you try?” Bonnie asks unsurely.
“Your love life is none of my business, but Greg’s my best friend’s grandson. So, here it goes. Bonnie, will you go back to Greg to become his wife?”
“Sorry, Grandma, but no,” Bonnie says, shaking her head.
“Okay, now I can tell her that I tried without actually lying,” the old lady says, eliciting a laugh from Josh. “And now introduce me to the nice people,” she demands.
“Well, this is Donna Moss and Josh Lyman. Donna, Josh, this is my grandmother Abigail Johnson.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Johnson,” Josh says, shaking the old lady’s hand.
“Grandma, they are with Governor Bartlet’s campaign,” Bonnie tells her.
“I know who Josh Lyman is, Bonnie,” her grandmother says in a commanding tone. She knows? Okay, Bonnie told us that her grandma was an activist but I never imagined she knew who Josh was.
“Well, that’s great,” Josh says, and Mrs. Johnson asks him a policy question right away.
Bonnie says that we should look around for the pie and I think my time has come.
“So you want another job?” I decide to ditch the circumlocution.
“Yeah, I think I should, but there is not much here to do. I should move to Indianapolis, I guess. I don’t want to leave Grandma alone, but she would understand. She was always very supportive. And she has friends here. And she would have even more friends if I wasn’t here,” Bonnie mused aloud.
“They gave her a hard time because of you?” I ask her incredulously, just in which century do these people live?
“Some of them, yes. That was some fifteen years ago, Donna. Things changed, but back then they weren’t sure they wanted a black teenager with them. They were frightened of me, being bad influence on their children or something like that,” Bonnie said.
“Well, they were stupid. And I don’t think your Grandma would be friends with someone who couldn’t accept you. I have a reason to be this inquisitive though,” I finally blurt out.
“What kind of reason?”
“I would like to ask you if you wanted to come to work for the campaign. I’m looking for a second assistant for Toby. I think you and Ginger would be unbeatable together.”
“Not a secretary?” she asks me.
“No, assistant,” I tell her. It’s a shame that no one wants to be a secretary anymore, but I tell you, it’s those bosses who exploit there secretaries or even harass them that put shame on a profession that is nothing to be ashamed of.
“What would I be required to do?”
“Well, filing, typing, answering phones, doing research, compiling memos, be a sounding board,” I list off. Hey, maybe when Leo tells me that I can’t work for Josh anymore, I could ask him for a job in Human Resources. “We need Leo McGarry’s approval for you to come on board, but I don’t think he would oppose.”
“Are you sure that I’m the right person for this job?” Bonnie asks, and I nod convinced. “There is something I have to tell right from the start,” she adds then.
“That would be?”
“I’m a deeply religious person, I have to go to the Sunday Mass, that’s something I’m not willing to give up,” she tells me then.
“I’m sure that will be no problem. The Governor is attending church regularly, and if Toby needed an assistant on Sunday he could call on Ginger,” I reassure her.
“Then I think I’d be thrilled to accept the job,” she says, and then squats down in front of a refrigerator. “Look what I’ve found!”
We enter the kitchen where Josh and Mrs. Johnson are still arguing about Social Security. Josh spots the pies in my hand and sends me a grin.
“Grandma, I gave Donna an apple pie and a pecan pie. They have a friend who is nuts about pies,” Bonnie tells her Grandma, and she nods.
“Mrs. Johnson, you have to tell me how much they cost, Bonnie wouldn’t let me to pay for them,” I tell the old lady.
“That’s nonsense, my dear. You brought Bonnie home; accept the pies on behalf of your friend.”
“Well, then thank you, Mrs. Johnson. Josh, we should go. Bonnie, could you come over around 8?”
“Of course,” Bonnie says with a nod, and Josh and Mrs. Johnson throw us a suspicious look.
“Well, I asked Bonnie to come to work for Toby,” I tell Josh later, when we are already on our way back to the hotel.
“I figured that much,” he tells me.
“Josh, you are aware of the fact that I’m not qualified enough to work in the White House, right?” I ask him in a low voice. I mean sooner or later we have to face reality. “Ginger, Cathy, Bonnie, Carol and Margaret, they all have a BA. I’m a college drop-out.”
“Donna, you are the best assistant of all them,” Josh says fiercely. Whoa, I swear, I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, but it certainly felt good to hear that.
“Even better than Margaret?” I ask him teasingly.
“Well, maybe Leo would tell you otherwise, but yes, even better than Margaret. Donna, who else would have taken on himself or herself to search for a pie in the middle of the night in a godforsaken place in Indiana?”
“Well, I’m sure Ginger…”
“Sure, because Toby would have made her. But you actually went for the pie because you thought it might be crucial for the campaign, right?”
“That’s true, but also because Toby is my friend and…”
“That’s right. You are a people person, Donna. I am not. When we go to the White House I have to liaise with Senators and Congressmen, I can’t do that alone. I would end up offending all the 100 Senators and the 435 Representatives,” he tells me, and I nod. Yeah, that’s possible. But I don’t think that Leo has a choice.
“Leo has no right to separate us, Donna, we are a good team. An efficient team,” Josh tells me.
“Well, okay, but he will be definitely Chief of Staff. Which means that he has the ultimate decision concerning staff issues,” I tell him.
“Okay, but he wants me to become his Deputy and he will most likely delegate the everyday business to me,” Josh says with a smug grin on his face.
“That’s probable, but I want Leo’s approval once we get there, Josh. If I don’t have it, I will look for another job. I was thinking HR, I’m pretty good at finding assistants, don’t you think?” I ask him playfully in hope of being able to misdirect his attention.
“I will talk to Leo tomorrow,” Josh says, not letting go.
“Josh, we have time,” I implore.
“No, I want this to be settled,” Josh says, a stubborn frown appearing on his face.
“Okay,” I give in. Yes, it would be nice to know for sure. But what if I get the job in the White House? What happens then? Could I work for Josh for four years without betraying that I’m in love him? Well, since I’m the Queen of Misdirection, maybe I could succeed. And until then, I should play it by ear.
THE END