Threadbare Memories
Under a ragged coat
lies wisdom
~~~ Romanian Proverb
I smiled as she grabbed
my coat and put it on before heading outside.
I was going to offer her my coat, honest I was. She just beat me to it. Which was fine, it
was a step in the right direction. Yeah,
having her just grab my things without asking is a step in the right direction.
It means we're getting back to where we were.
And if I wasn't mistaken
that was a nice little bit of bantering right before she left. When she all but accused me of sleeping with
the Flender girl. Sure she has a crush
on me, who wouldn't. I am a very powerful and handsome man, just ask Donna.
OK, time to reign in my
ego a bit.
So Donna left to practice
the art of retail politics wearing my coat.
She did look really cute in it.
She's been back in a few
times. With her red cheeks and windblown
hair she looks positively beautiful. I
remind her she's wearing my coat, just to tease her. She's rattled off the concerns of the
Flenders' and I've done my best to give her the information she needs to sway
their vote.
I can see her out my
office window, shivering just outside the gate, talking animatedly on the
phone. I should really go out there with
her. But since she's wearing my coat,
I'll just stay here and do what it is I do.
Well, let's face it, at
the moment I'm not doing a whole heck of a lot. I mean, I'm standing at my
window looking out at my assistant who is trying to save a few votes in the New Hampshire primary, freezing her butt off,
despite my coat. Maybe I should feel
guilty. If she were out there in her
coat, then I'd feel guilty. She's right,
mine is warmer.
I got the coat for
Hanukkah from my parents about ten years ago.
It's followed me around from job to job, apartment to apartment. It spent a season campaigning, where it spent
more time warming the body of my assistant than it did mine. But I didn't care. We spent many nights on the cold bus huddled
under the coat, talking, dreaming, sleeping.
It's lived through mishaps including coffee spills, a water balloon
attack and being left behind in a diner somewhere in the Midwest only to be returned by the nice
white haired lady who owned the place.
It's been rumpled, balled up and stepped on.
It holds many good
memories.
I was wearing it the day
I went to New Hampshire to hear the real thing. The morning of Election Day I wore it to the
polls. I wore it the day Bartlet was
sworn in as President. Sixteen months ago I wore it out to dinner with
Donna. It was a few days before I
returned to work after the shooting. I
remember Donna holding it out for me to put on. I remember the way it hung on
me, despite the heavy sweater I was wearing.
The way Donna protectively took my arm that evening is something I will
never forget. The way she brushes away
invisible lint from my shoulders every time I wear it makes me smile.
But like most
possessions, it also holds some not so pleasant memories.
I wore it they day we
buried my father. Christmas Eve a year
ago I was wearing it when Donna took me to the hospital. It's kept me warm while walking back to the
White House many times after disastrous meetings on The Hill.
During the warm months it
resides in the closet in my guest room.
Next to a very similar coat that belonged to my Dad. I don't wear that one at all, Dad was a good
5 inches shorter and 30 pounds heavier than I am, but I can't bring myself to
get rid of it. Even after this much time
it still holds the scent of Old Spice aftershave and Dad's cigars. On the
hanger next to Dad's coat is a scarf that used to belong to Joanie. Mom gave the coat and the scarf to me last
year when we cleaned out the house.
I remember taking my coat
out the first cold day this fall. My
hands ran over Dad's coat and Joanie's scarf before I took my coat out of the
dry cleaning bag. The scent of the
cleaning chemicals stuck in my nose the first few times I wore it. Then the familiar scents started to make
their way into the black wool, Royal Copenhagen Musk Cologne, Irish Spring
soap, Starbucks coffee. And now since
Donna's been wearing it for a while I can look forward to the scent of
Clinique's Happy cologne the next time I put it on.
With use and abuse the
coat is starting to show its age. The
ends of the sleeves are slightly threadbare.
At the beginning of the winter Donna pointed out that fact and asked if
I was going to buy a new one. She looked a little relieved when I said no. I think it will have to be completely
threadbare before I get rid of it.
It's time to call Donna
with one more point she can try and sell the Flenders'. Not that I really think it will make any
difference now.
The pizza should be here
soon. It's quarter to midnight and time to give up. I button my suit coat and run outside to get
Donna. She doesn't believe when I tell
her to just let the Flender family vote. So I take the phone and talk to Mackey
for a minute. We hang up and head back
towards the gate. As we do my hand rests
on Donna's back and after we pass through I put my arm around her shoulders and
whisper.
"Can I have my coat
back?"
"Not a chance."
she tells me with a grin as she rests her cheek against my shoulder for just
second.
We get back in the
bullpen a few minutes before the vote starts.
Donna heads to the office while I go to see if there is any pizza left.
Two minutes later I get
back to my office with a couple of slices of pizza and a large cup of coffee
for us to share. Donna's stretched out
on the floor, leaning back against the front of my desk watching the
television. She took off my coat but is
still huddled under it. I hand her the
pizza and the coffee and go to grab the spare blanket out of my closet.
As the vote starts we
must make quite a sight. We're side by
side on the floor, legs stretched out in front of us. Donna's still huddled under my coat but she's
graciously shared a tiny bit of it with me.
That's ok though, I have the blanket and besides, I wasn't the one who
spent the last hour and a half outside in the freezing cold. The plate with the pizza is resting on our
thighs and I'm holding the coffee. Donna
scoffs at the fact that the only pizza left was pepperoni. So she carefully pulls the pepperoni off of
her piece and feeds it too me.
Great, she somehow
managed to miss my big mouth. So now the
scent of pepperoni pizza will be lingering on my coat too. That's ok; it'll serve as a reminder of
tonight.
Well, the vote is
over. And Donna's asleep with her head
on my shoulder. The pizza and the coffee
are gone. I blindly reach up onto the
desk feeling around for the remote. I
find it, and the stack of files that need to be read. I put on CNN softly and start to read.
Donna's head eventually
makes its way from my shoulder to my chest and I fold up the blanket as best I
can and put it in my lap, settling her head down. As I cover her up with the coat I smile as I
get a whiff of her cologne. It's
comforting. I haven't really spent much
time close enough to her to smell it lately.
But things do seem to be
getting back to where they were. But I
don't know if that's where I want things to end. Amy and I are still sort of together, I
guess. I just haven't had the energy to
either keep things going or break them off.
I suppose deep down I am just waiting for her to break up with me. We're scheduled to go to the thing next
week. I'm not sure I'm looking forward
to it.
Donna rolls over a little
and sighs in her sleep. The sigh of
contentment, I hope. With a slightly
shaking hand I brush back her hair, reveling in the feel of the soft blond
strands against my fingers. I pull the
coat back up over her shoulders and run my hand against the wool.
As many memories as this
coat holds for me, I think the memory of this moment will always stand out as
one of the best.
THE END
