Josh pulled his rental car onto the curb of a dirty city sidewalk and got out of the vehicle. He stepped into the harsh sunlight with his dark shades on and his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, a result of his car's air conditioning failing about an hour beforehand. A suffocating heat wave had blanketed the Southeast for days now and Josh could see the affects of it everywhere. From the sounds of fans and air conditioners blaring to a group of young children playing in a showering spray of water from a broken fire hydrant, the people of inner-city Atlanta seemed to have adapted.
Josh had little time to consider this, as he was a man on a mission at the moment. He'd been scheduled to meet with Robert Harrington at 9:00 am four days ago on Monday but it'd been canceled due to Mr. Harrington's "unavoidable commitments", a term any political operative could tell you meant, "I wouldn't meet with you if my head was on fire and you had a bucket of water". Had Josh been working for a lowly congressman or governor, he might have been forced to comply but seeing as he answered directly to the leader of the free world and all, Josh was not one to be pushed around with. Something Robert Harrington was about to learn the hard way.
"Hopewell Recreation Center" the sign on the building in front of him proclaimed. In smaller letters, underneath it, read, "In life, there is no reward for finishing second". Josh walked into the building and was immediately assaulted by noises and people. All around him children of all sizes, but mostly the same color skin, were gathered in the hallway. Most still had on their regular clothes, a few were even in school uniforms, and there were more than a few that had on what Josh would characterize as gang attire. They were talking or goofing around in their smaller groups and Josh approached one of them.
"Excuse me," he politely asked a group of junior high students, conveniently farthest away from the alleged gang members. "I'm looking for a Mr. Robert Harrington, can you tell me if he's here?"
A girl with long cornrows and what looked to be at least ten different studs in each ear gave him a quick once-over. "Bear's in his office," she told him, pointing a long, polished nail down towards the end of the hallway. "Down that way. Fourth door on the right, you can't miss it."
"Bear?" he questioned out loud.
"It's what the brother calls himself," another boy in the group explained. "'Round here at least. Don't know what he calls himself around you folks."
"Okay," Josh exhaled. He was becoming keenly aware that the eyes of most of the people here were focused on him and most of the stares he was receiving were not that of a welcoming nature. "So…fourth door on the right?" he asked dumbly. The group nodded at him and went back to their conversation, no one even bothering to say goodbye. "Okay," he whispered to himself, heading down the hallway to his appointed destination. He continued to be the object of many stares as he passed several more of the groups until he turned a corner and found himself near a series of offices. He counted down the doors to himself until he reached the fourth door on the right, knocking lightly to make his presence known.
"Come in!" a deep voice shouted from the room. Josh strode in and came to a cluttered desk with no one sitting behind it.
"Hello?" he asked, looking around the room.
"Hello to you too, my friend," the same deep voice said from behind, startling Josh. He turned around to find himself face to shoulders with a tall, almost imposing, black man who had an undeniable energy exuding from him. "Sorry 'bout that, didn't mean to scare you," he said with a friendly smile while extending his hand to Josh. "I'm Robert Harrington. Now who the hell are you and how can I help you?"
The man's charisma and intensity might have intimidated lesser men but Josh had been shaking hands with real-life legends and heads of state for nearly ten years now. A firm handshake didn't rattle him anymore. "I'm Josh Lyman," he calmly stated, returning the handshake. "And you can help me by actually showing up for a meeting when my office schedules one with you."
"Ahh," the man grinned. "President Bartlet's top dog, coming all the way out from our nation's capital to yell at me for my poor manners. I'm honored." He went around Josh and sat behind the desk, propping his feet up in a nonchalant way. He motioned to the chair in front of him. "Sit down, make yourself comfortable while you lecture me for invoking my rights as an American citizen."
"Listen, Mr. Harrington," Josh started as he sat down across from him.
"Call me Bobby," he offered.
"Bobby," Josh said. "I appreciate that you're a guy trying to get something done, I really do. But this is an election year…"
"So that's what all those ads on the television have been about," Booby quipped, banging the top of the desk for emphasis.
Josh sighed. This was going to be more difficult than he'd originally planned. "What it is that you want to get done, I'm not sure but…"
"You're not sure?" Bobby scoffed with a smile. He stood up and walked over to the wall, which was lined with framed pictures of youths. "I'm trying to keep these kids, and the hundreds of thousands more like them, off the streets and off drugs," he explained.
"Well how do you accomplish that goal by throwing a kid in jail, a place inundated with adult drug users, when he makes a mistake?" Josh got up and argued, going over to Bobby.
"We're not talking about the kids who make just one mistake. We're talking about the ones who are on the street corner everyday, selling dime bags of crack everyday when they're not even old enough to get into an R rated movie. And as for the adult drug users in jail right now, most of them are lost causes already. If we can't reach them when they're young, odds are we're not going to.""
"We're also talking about the group of people, the 18-37 year-old African-American man, that makes up some 80% of our current prison population. You're telling me you want to add a couple hundred thousand more into that equation?" Josh realized that the two of them had been steadily raising the volume of their voice during the exchange and a small crowd of kids had gathered to listen to them in the doorway. Bobby noticed it too and spoke directly to one of the boys in front of him.
"Julian," he asked the young man. "What would you rather have? A lifetime of crime and violence as an adult or a one time stay in one of our nation's fine correctional institutions as a teenager?"
"You talking 'bout jail, Bear?"
"You bet I am, my man."
The boy considered it for a moment, well aware that some of the younger children were listening to him. "Well," Julian started. "I guess I'd say going to jail just once. I mean, it's a hellava lot better than once every couple years I'd say."
"Yes it is, son, yes it is," Bobby said patting him on the back. "Now get your ass back to where it's supposed, you hear me? That goes for all you."
"I hear ya, Bear," Julian smiled back. He herded the other kids away, leaving Josh and Bobby alone once again. He motioned back to his office and the men stepped back in and resumed their earlier positions sitting across from one another.
"You think it's right to throw a fourteen year-old kid in jail," Josh tried a different angle, "for doing something that's a way of life, of survival where he comes from?"
"Then why don't we just move all these kids into the suburbs? Save me a lot time and money," he shot back humorlessly.
"Bobby," Josh sighed.
"You think inner-city drug trafficking is something you can fix by throwing money at?" Bobby asked. "You think it's a stain on the floor that you can't wash out so you just cover it up? It doesn't work like that, Mr. Lyman."
"Josh," he told him.
"Well, Josh," Bobby said, emphasizing his name. "This isn't something that the federal government can pretend doesn't exist. The kids I'm trying to help right now, they're the next generation that's gonna run this country someday. A generation that went to hell even before it's was born. A generation that's probably gonna be in power while you and I are still alive so excuse me for trying to help shape our nation's next generation to not do that which has never been done before and that is to fail where the generation before them succeeded." He stopped to take a breath and looked at Josh seriously for a moment. "You got kids?" he asked softly.
"Yeah," Josh told him, not taking his eyes away from Bobby's.
"How many? Boys or girls?"
"A little girl."
"How old is she?"
"She'll be five in December."
Bobby nodded. "What's her name?"
"Emma."
"Well how would you feel," Bobby explained, "if every morning, when Emma woke up, she had to walk to school past homeless people of every age, hookers of every age and drug pushers of every age? You'd be terrified, wouldn't you?"
"Yes I would," Josh answered honestly.
"That's what I live with everyday," Bobby informed him. "So do millions of other fathers. Our kids don't deserve this Josh. They cannot keep turning to the street as a way of survival. And unfortunately, the only deterrent that I know of that actually works around here is jail time when they're young. They see where life leads them and the ones that get it, get it for life. That's why I'm pushing for the bill, not to punish them but to ultimately save them. Can you understand that?"
"Not really," Josh admitted. "But then again, I'm not like most of these parents. I'm an upper-class, Harvard-educated, Jewish white guy from Connecticut not an African-American on welfare who didn't graduate from high school so…"
"American," Bobby cut in.
"I'm sorry?"
"I'm American," Bobby clarified. "I was born in this country,
I've lived everyday of my life in this country, and I'll probably die in this
country. I'm proud of that, I don't need another title on top of that to fence
me in anymore than you need to say you're a Jewish-American. I know my past
and believe me when I tell you I couldn't be prouder of it but I just rather
us all be Americans if you catch my drift. That's what we all are, some of us
just happen to have different skin tones and accents."
Josh nodded slowly. "Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot."
"You've been a spokesman for AAFO for years now…"
"And I've wanted to get them to change the name for years but I'm afraid if I do, then Jesse Jackson would go talk to Larry King, rip me a new one if you know what I mean," Bobby explained.
"Of course he'd need to come up with something that rhymed with 'Harrington' before he did, so maybe you'd be okay," Josh joked, beginning to relax a little.
Bobby let out a great laugh and threw his head. "Very true, very true Josh," Bobby said as laughter racked his shoulders. He settled down and looked at Josh. "Oh you're alright, Josh, you're alright. So how much longer you in Atlanta for?"
"Well I was supposed to leave with everyone else two days ago but than you cancelled so…" Josh started.
"So Leo McGarry made you stay behind to meet with me? For four days?" Bobby asked a bit surprised.
"No, I insisted on meeting with you," Josh corrected him. "I like to finish things once they get started so I stayed behind and tracked you down to here. Besides you saved me from the absolute horror that is flying on Air Force One and allowed me to take the rare opportunity to fly coach on American Airlines so thank you so much for that."
"My pleasure," Bobby ribbed him. He looked at Josh for a beat as if he was trying to decide something. "Listen when's you're flight?"
"Tomorrow morning, I meet up with everyone else in Virginia."
"You got a place to stay?"
"Yeah, I'm at the Marriott across town."
"So I was wondering," Bobby glanced at his watch, "I usually leave here around this time and we've obviously got to finish this conversation. Do you want to join my family and I for dinner tonight at our place?"
"Uh…sure why not?" Josh answered slowly, not used to this sort of protocol during a meeting.
"You don't have to if you have other plans, Josh," Bobby told him, misinterpreting his pause.
"No it's not that," Josh rushed to inform him. "It's just after I finish a meeting with the opposition, they often say many, many things to me or about me. Inviting me to their home to break bread with them usually isn't one of them."
"Okay then lets go," Bobby picked up his things and walked out the door with Josh following him. They walked down the hallway with Bobby stopping every few steps, leaving instructions with adults and high-fiving the kids that he saw. He seemed to know all of them by name and it amazed Josh, who had read in his briefing file that Hopewell was a recreation center that serviced more than five thousand kids in the area.
"You know all of them?" he asked Bobby, referring to the kids.
"Grew up with most their parents and most of them practically live here," Bobby said as they walked out of the building. "You got a car?"
"Yeah."
"Well just follow me, I got some calls I need to make on my cell."
"Sure," Josh climbed back into his rental and waited for Bobby to do the same. He glanced at his watch and wanted to call home but remembered that Nicole was going to take Emma to the zoo that afternoon and that Donna should probably be resting. So instead he picked up his cell phone and dialed Sam's number at the White House.
"Hello?" Sam answered after a minute.
"Hey Sam it's me," Josh said as he pulled his car off the curb to follow Bobby. "What's going on?"
"Nothing much," Sam told him. "Warner's people finally called back, he's going to endorse the President when he gets back from the trip."
"About time."
"Yeah so what about you? Did you meet with Harrington?"
"Well I just met with him a minute ago."
"Is he on board? Because if he is, you can probably catch a flight to Virginia tonight."
"It's…well it's…I can't," Josh tried to explain.
"Why not? Did something happen?"
"Bobby and I…" Josh started.
"Bobby?" Sam questioned.
"Harrington," Josh clarified. "Anyways we didn't finish our meeting so I'm joining him for dinner right now."
"Oh okay. Where are you going?"
"His house," Josh said, as he turned the car.
"That's funny," Sam replied, smiling a little. "Seriously, where are you going?"
"Seriously, his house."
"Oh." Sam paused. "What do you guys need to talk about?"
"We were discussing his proposal and he actually had some convincing arguments for why he wanted the law. I've got to admit, Sam, this guy seems pretty good at what he does."
"So are you, you'll get him on board," Sam concluded.
"Yeah," Josh agreed half-heartedly, not sure he wanted to dissuade Bobby anymore. "Listen, have you talked to Donna at all today?"
"Yeah why?"
"Did she mention the interview that she's going to be doing with "People" magazine?"
"CJ told me about that. I know you're uncomfortable with it but it would be a really good PR boast for us, especially coming up on the home stretch."
"I guess," he admitted. "It just seems, I don't know, wrong. Like I'm selling out my family to score a political opportunity or something."
"Well it's not, so don't worry about. CJ going to be with her when it happens tomorrow, you have nothing to be afraid of."
"Tomorrow?" Josh asked, stunned. "How'd they set it up so fast?"
"CJ said that the editor wanted to push the story into the October issue instead of the November one so Donna agreed to do it tomorrow."
"All right," he sighed as he saw Bobby's car pull up in front of a two-story house. "If you see her or hear from her, tell her to call me on my cell. I gotta go."
"Sure," Sam said hanging up.
Josh got out of his car and stepped onto the curb to meet Bobby. He took his time assessing the house. It was two stories, in fairly clean condition, with the paint beginning to show it's age. It had a small front yard and sprawling porch with toys littered across it. It was a nice enough home just not one that Josh would expect a nationally known civil rights activists to call his own.
"Welcome to my humble abode," Bobby said as he walked up to Josh. "Come on in, I told my wife to set another place at the table." He saw Josh looking around the neighborhood questioningly. "What's the matter?"
"Oh nothing," Josh replied quickly. "It's just…nothing." He shrugged it off and the two men walked up the front steps of the porch to the door. Bobby opened it and they stepped inside.
"Hello!" Bobby shouted from the brightly lit foyer. "Family! The breadwinner is home; show him the proper respect and courtesy!" His response was greeted with almost total silence to which he shook his head and smiled at. "Yep, nearly twenty years of working myself to become a forty-one year-old heart attack victim and this is what I come home to everyday."
"Daddy!" a small voice shrieked as it barreled down the stairs. They turned to see a little boy heading full steam for Bobby. He caught the child with ease as he jumped into his father's arms. Josh stood back and let father and son have a moment together.
"Hey man, how was your day today?" Bobby questioned as he set the boy down. Looking at him, Josh thought that he might be around Emma's age. "Did you have a good day in school?"
"Yeah, Daddy. I got a star from show and tell," the boy said with rampant excitement in his voice.
"That's great, son," Bobby told him with obvious pride. "Now where are your brother and sister?"
"Mike had football," he ticked the names off with his finger, "And Sondra's studying at Keisha's house." The boy looked up and noticed Josh for the first time. "Who's that?"
"That," Bobby gestured to Josh, "is Mr. Lyman. He works for the President of the United States and he came a long way just to talk to your daddy. Don't that make me special?"
"No!" the boy teased his father. Then he walked up to Josh and introduced himself. "I'm Freddie."
"Good to meet you, Freddie," he shook the boy's extended hand. "Call me Josh."
"Hi Josh," Freddie replied.
"Fredrick, have you washed your hands yet, young man?" a female voice drifted in from the kitchen.
"Yes, Momma!" the boy called back, rushing off into a room that the men could clearly see was the bathroom.
"Well, look who finally decided to drag his sorry ass home," a tall, black woman walked into the room and greeted Bobby with a kiss.
"Yeah, well I knew it was steak night tonight, otherwise you wouldn't have seen me until Saturday," Bobby informed her lightly, giving her a kiss in the process. He pulled away and turned back to Josh. "Josh, I'd like you meet my wife, Helen Harrington. Helen, this Joshua Lyman, political operative extraordinaire."
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Harrington," he shook her hand. "Josh."
"It's Helen," she told him smiling. "And it's a pleasure. Please come in the dining room, dinner's all ready."
After the meal, in which Freddie and his older brother Mike joined them, the adults retired to the porch with coffee to enjoy the cooling air of the late evening.
"So how long have you lived here?" Josh asked politely.
"About fifteen years now, just after Mike was born," Helen told him. "Bobby was working as an aide for Senator Delacroix and we bought this place for a song, did most of the work ourselves and now its home. Why do you ask?"
"I was asking because…well I know how much young, senatorial aides made back then and I know what you make now so…" Josh stumbled.
"You were wondering why we don't just move into a city sky-rise with bellhops and valets at every corner," Bobby finished for him.
"No I didn't mean it like that," Josh rushed to try and save face. "Except I kind of did and I'm not trying to be rude or anything, I'm just innately curious."
"It's okay," Bobby smiled at him. He looked out into the neighborhood for a minute, lost in his thoughts before he turned back to Josh. "I go on television all the time and work my ass off for these kids and their families," he started. "I talk about all the problems in these neighborhoods and how no one in Washington will give them the time of day. And they need a voice out there, trying to help them out. So how do I help them, how do I take care of them, if I'm not right here in the thick of it with them?"
Josh nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. "I agree with you," he told Bobby quietly. "On just about everything you've said today. And anything I haven't, you've convinced me of. Unfortunately, I serve at the pleasure of the President. He's ordered me to tell you to back off the harsher punishments until after the election." He paused and looked at the couple. "I'm sorry."
This quieted the Harrington's. Josh could almost see all their hopes being dashed away. "Don't be sorry," Bobby tried to reassure him after a moment. "You're only doing your job. And we support the President, right Helen?"
Helen swallowed and looked carefully at both of them. "I'm going inside," she said stoically, walking back in without saying goodnight.
Josh looked at Bobby, who had taken it much better than Helen had, with questioning eyes.
"Her brother died when she was a kid," he explained. "He was a drug runner. Helen's been fighting against this long before I came along and she'll keep doing it long after I'm gone." Bobby and Josh sat like that for what seemed like forever, both thinking about the women who stood by their sides and what life would be like for Helen and Donna respectively without them there with them until they were interrupted by the emergence of another.
"Hey Daddy," a young girl said, walking up the steps to greet her father.
"Hello, sugar, so nice of you to grace us with your presence this evening," Bobby said to the girl who was obviously his daughter. "Where you been all night, you've got school tomorrow."
"I was at Keisha's studying for my math test," she explained leaning down to give Bobby a hug. "How was work? Did that guy that I told you about, Dwayne, show up? He really needs the volunteer work to show to the judge at his hearing next month."
"Yes, Dwayne came to me today and he's all set up. He asked me to thank you when I saw you for telling him about the juvie program. Now should I be expecting anymore delinquents to wander threw my office door tomorrow?"
"No," she assured him lightly, "at least not any that I sent." She looked over at Josh who was watching the interaction between the two and wondering if Emma and he were going to have a variation of this someday. "Who's this?" she asked, nodding towards him.
Josh extended his hand to the girl. "I'm Josh Lyman," he told her. "I work with the government. I came here to talk to your dad about some proposals he and his organization want to make national. I take it you're Sondra."
"Hi," she said sweetly. "You're gonna help my dad out in D.C.?"
He smiled at her. "I don't know what good it'll do but I'll try," he answered sincerely, looking Bobby in the eye when he said it.
"Well trying and failing is better than never trying to begin with," Sondra said wisely. "Besides, the AAFO needs all the help they can get with this guy in charge," she grinned at her father.
"Oh so that's how it works huh?" Bobby laughed at her. "I bust my ass everyday to put food on your table, clothes on your back, and a roof over your head and this is the thanks I get for it?"
"Yep," she winked at him. "I'm gonna go to bed. Goodnight Daddy."
"Goodnight honey."
"Goodnight, Mr. Lyman," she told him as she walked to the door. "Remember to keep trying."
"I will," he replied. Once she was inside he turned his attention back to her father, "She seems like a good kid."
"She is," a father's love encompassing his voice. "Only thirteen years old and she's already helping out at Hopewell's three times a week. Straight A's in school, lots of extracurricular activities, volunteer work at Hopewell's and a local hospital. Princeton and Yale already have college stuff coming in for her, hell Duke sent someone here to talk to me and Helen the other day. She's going places and that's not just the father in me talking."
"No but your opinion is not the most unbiased, you gotta admit that," Josh added with a smile, taking a sip of coffee.
"Well wait until your kid gets older," Bobby countered. "You'll be bragging about every little thing she does, like she's the first kid to ever tell a joke or draw a picture." He finished his cup of coffee and leaned back in the wicker chair. "So what did you say her name was again?" he asked conversationally.
"Emma," he said smiling fondly. "She's almost five years old, in kindergarten. She was complaining to me the other day that she doesn't want to go to school anymore because she's too smart for it."
Bobby laughed, his mind drifting back to Freddie. "Yeah that sounds like you're typical five year-old. You got a picture?" Josh reached into his wallet and pulled out photo of Emma and handed it to Bobby.
"Oh now this is too cute," Bobby commented, looking at the picture of Emma that Nicole had taken of her at the homecoming party. She had just opened up a gift from Donna and was smiling brightly at the camera, her eyes squinting up and her cheeks straining. "Who does she look like more, you or your wife?"
"Her mother, Donna," Josh answered carefully, not sure how much of his personal life he wanted to divulge to this man. Then he decided that this man had welcomed him into his life, so Josh might as well do the same with him. "Actually, Donna's not my wife, not yet anyway. She's my fiancée. And Emma's her daughter from a previous…well let's just call it disaster. But I love her like she's mine own; she actually just started calling me 'Daddy' a few days ago and…I've done a lot of great things with my life, Bobby. I've gotten a president elected and ground-breaking, life-saving legislation passed through Congress but when that little girl called me 'Daddy'…" he trailed off, still savoring the memory.
"You never felt as elated or petrified in your entire life," Bobby finished knowingly. "Don't worry its normal. You get accustomed to it after awhile, especially when your kids come along." He paused reflectively. "They say that most women were put on this earth to be mothers. I think it's the other way around though. Men are never really men until we become fathers. We don't realize how little every other we've ever done in our lives matter until the moment that wide-eyed little face looks up at us and expects to fix everything."
A long moment of reflecting past between both of them, each hoping they could live up to their duties as fathers. "I should get going," Josh finally said, getting up and putting his jacket on. It was nice talking to you."
"Same here," Bobby told him standing. "I'll walk you to your car." The two men walked down the pathway and sidewalk to the car and turned to each other when they got there.
"I mean it, Bobby," Josh told him earnestly. "I'm going to do best in Washington to see what I can do for Hopewell. I promise you that."
"I appreciate it," Bobby thanked him. "Take care of yourself, maybe I'll venture up north one of these days to make sure that you guys are still honest."
"That'd be nice," Josh replied as he got into his car. He turned on the ignition and rolled down the automatic windows. Bobby leaned into the passenger window and smiled at him.
"Take care of your little girl," he advised him. "She's your future, you know."
"You don't have to tell me twice," Josh stated. "See you around." He gently pulled the car away from the curb and started towards the hotel, waving goodbye as he did. Once the house was out of sight, he glanced at the digital clock in the car and saw that it was approaching 9:30, hopefully not too late for him to say goodnight to Emma. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed home.
"Hello?" a groggy voice answered after three rings.
"Donna? Did I wake you?"
"Yeah but that's okay. I fell asleep on the coach. What are you doing?"
"I'm driving back to the hotel. Where's Nicole?"
"She had to work late. How'd you're meeting go?"
"It was…" he paused to find the right word, "different then what I thought it was going to be. I mean the guy, Harrington, was different than what I thought he'd be."
"What did you expect him to be?" Donna asked as she got up from the couch and headed to her bedroom.
"Egotistical, self-centered, radical, rebellious," he listed.
"And he wasn't?"
"No he was all those things," Josh corrected. "But in the best possible way." He heard her opening a door. "What are you doing?"
"Checking in on Emma," she said quietly, going over to the child's bed and kneeling down beside it. She watched her small body move slowly up and down as she breathed, Petey clutched between her arms, and LuLu dozing at her feet. Donna reached up and softly stroked her hair, never taking for granted how much the sight of her child kept her at peace.
"I didn't get to say goodnight," Josh lamented, banging his head back against the headrest. "Was she okay?"
"Of course she was," Donna assured him. "She knows you're doing very important work, she doesn't begrudge it at all, I promise."
"That's nice but it doesn't make me feel any better. I miss her; I want to talk to her if I can't at least see her." He sighed heavily, Bobby's words about fatherhood coming back to him. He needed to feel some sort of connection to his daughter right then, no matter how superficial. Donna?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you put the phone close to Emma? Not up to her ear but just close to her?"
"Sure," she responded, confused. She placed the phone on Emma's pillow, close to her face but not touching her.
Josh listened quietly for a moment to the sound of Emma's breathing, feeling a smile grace his face and an ache being lifted from his heart. The sound was more precious and meant more to him than all the "I love you's" in the world.
"Hey you," he whispered reverently, hoping he didn't wake her up. "I'm sorry I didn't get to talk to you today. I promise I'm gonna call first thing in the morning. I just wanted to tell you I love you and even if though I'm not with you right now, I'm thinking of you and Mommy all the time so you guys are with me wherever I go." He listened for another minute, grateful that she hadn't woken up and hopeful that somehow, even though he was almost a thousand miles away, she'd heard him.
"Josh?" he heard Donna whisper, bringing him back.
"Yeah?"
"We're thinking of you too," she said, a few quiet tears streaking down her face. "You're here with us and we love you."
"I love you too. Now go get some sleep."
"Okay. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," he hung up and concentrated on the road, his mind finally at ease.
Donna hung up the phone and held the object close to her heart, as though be doing so she had a piece of Josh with her. Then, as she looked down at Emma, she realized she already did. Maybe not a biological piece but a piece of his heart nonetheless. She bent down, placed a kiss on her daughter's forehead, and got up to go to bed.
'Only fourteen more days,' her mind told her as she crawled beneath the covers.