The Morning After
“I’m just saying,” Donna said.
Josh fled into his office. “I really don’t want to be talking about
this,” he called toward the door.
“I’m just saying,” Donna repeated, undeterred,
as she sailed into the office on Josh’s heels.
“And it’s a perfectly logical concl—you’re uncomfortable about this,
aren’t you?”
Josh opened his mouth, closed it, opened it
again, tried to pick up a pile of folders, fumbled it, and jumped back as Donna
reached past him and efficiently rearranged the stack. “I’m not,” he said, almost exactly capturing
the tone of a five-year-old with an Oreo in his pocket and a broken cookie jar
at his feet.
“You’re uncomfortable,” Donna said. “Margaret said this would happen. She said it was like a threat to national
security.”
Josh’s opened his mouth again, but nothing came
out for a full fifteen seconds. “I would
hardly say national security,” he finally managed.
“National insecurity
is more like it,” Donna agreed.
“Hey! I brought the funny.”
Josh didn’t laugh, and in fact seemed barely
able to breathe. “You and Margaret are
talking about this?”
Donna gave him a look. “Josh, the whole world is talking about this. If there are intelligent beings on Mars, they’re talking about it. CJ’s probably getting questions from the
press at this very minute. From the
female reporters, anyway.” She gave Josh a pitying smile. “I can see how you guys might want to avoid
the issue, though. I mean, I can see how
the whole thing might make you feel a little inadequate.”
“I don’t feel inadequate!” Josh blurted. His voice squeaked just a bit on the last
word. “And I’m not in competition with
Sam, of all people.”
“Josh, you’re in competition with everyone,
about everything,” Donna replied calmly.
A curtain of blonde hair swung across her face as she leaned over the
desk, wrote a note on a sticky pad, and stuck it carefully to a file folder. “Especially Sam.” She looked up and smiled brightly. “I think it’s nice of him not to gloat. It takes a big man not to gloat. Wouldn’t you say it takes a big man, Josh?”
“I…I—“
“I guess you’ll have to find an off-duty
prostitute now,” Donna interrupted cheerfully.
Josh sank into his chair. “Call girl,” he said automatically.
“Right,” Donna said. “You want me to get a number?”
“You talk about this,” Josh said weakly. “To Margaret.”
Donna nodded briskly. “Yes.
Margaret. Also Ginger, Bonnie,
Cathy, that woman with the cool green coat from the GAO, CJ, and the new girl
in the Legislative Liaison’s office.”
Josh looked up.
“You talked about this to CJ?”
“Not a man, though,” Donna said with a frown.
“Well, no, Donna,” Josh said, clinging to this
safe and incontrovertible fact. “CJ’s
not a man.”
“Well, duh, Josh. You know how I can tell? Because she’ll talk about it, and there’s not
a man here who will.” Donna pulled a stack of phone messages from her pocket
and handed them to Josh. “Well, except
for Pete from Tech Support, but I’m pretty sure he’s gay. So, you know, that’s sort of different. ”
Josh took the messages, stood up, and wandered
across the room. “You discussed this
with CJ,” he repeated, absently shoving his messages into the fruit bowl on his
credenza. He stared at a banana for a
moment, and retreated to his desk.
“Mrs. Landingham says Sam is a man of many
talents,” Donna reported, retrieving the phone messages and placing them in
front of her boss.
Josh moaned softly and laid his head on his
blotter.
“That’s pretty much the general consensus,”
Donna said softly into his ear. She
patted his shoulder. “Oh, and Josh?” she
continued in a normal tone of voice, “You have to call Danny Concannon at the Post.”
Josh sat up.
“Because Sam got a discount rate?”
Donna rolled her eyes. “No, because he wants a quote on the
Education Reform package. And Sam didn’t
get a discount rate, Josh. He didn’t get
a rate at all. And considering that’s
what she does for a living, the implications are—“
“Stop,” Josh pleaded.
“You wouldn’t catch me typing reports and
answering phones on my day off,” Donna pointed out. “And certainly not for free. I mean, unless I was really getting something out of it.
Which is hard to imagine, I know, because it’s phones, and typing. But with—“
“My head is going to explode,” Josh said
quietly. “Do you suppose my health
insurance will cover that?”
“I’m just saying,” Donna said. “By the way, you have a meeting on the Hill
in twenty minutes. Say hi to Annabelle.”
“Annabelle?” Josh asked, taking deep, steadying
breaths.
“Representative Annabelle Dingman. I had a nice discussion with her this morning
at the muffin place. She feels muffins
are an important source of energy. I got
you a blueberry, by the way.”
“There’s gonna be a giant explosion,” Josh said,
rubbing his temples. “The Secret Service should probably be informed.”
“Do you suppose Sam likes muffins?” Donna
asked. She swept out of the room, only
to stick her head back in the door. “It could
be that the secret to his success has something to do with muffins.”
“I’d like to go home now,” Josh said.
“I could ask him what kind of muffins he eats,”
Donna said seriously. “I mean, if you’re
too uncomfortable to ask him.”
“I’m not uncomfortable,” Josh said. “I’m whatever you are after you’re
uncomfortable. I’m whatever it is that
you are when you can’t take one more thing, and then four more things happen.
I’m—“
“You’re at a loss for words,” Donna said.
“I’m…I’m…yes,” Josh sputtered.
“You should call Sam, “ Donna said. “Sam’s good with words.”
“I—“ Josh began.
“Among other things,” Donna added.
“I—“ Josh repeated.
“I’m just saying,” Donna said.
“I’m going to my desk now.”
“Thank God,” Josh said, sinking behind his.
“I’ll be right here,” Donna called. “In case you want to discuss anything.”
“I need an aspirin,” Josh moaned. “I need a gigantic bottle of aspirin.”
Donna appeared in the doorway, a picture of
concern. “For the exploding head thing?”
“Yeah.
You got any aspirin?”
Donna shook her head. “You want me to run out and get you some?”
“Please,” Josh said wearily.
“I’m guessing Sam didn’t have a headache when he
met Laurie,” Donna said. “Give me some
money.”
Josh gave her the look again, the one that said the
Republican leadership had just announced they were all Elvis’ love children.
“For the aspirin,” Donna said, holding out her
hand.
“I don’t have any money,” Josh said. “Can I owe it to you?”
“You never pay me back,” Donna said. “The Chinese?
The moo shu pork? You never paid
me back.”
“You ate it all,” Josh said, aggrieved. “I never got any.”
“You shouldn’t have been on the phone so
long. Borrow some money, then I’ll get
your aspirin.”
“Donna,” Josh began, but Donna was already out
the door.
“I think Sam probably has some spare change,”
she called from her desk. “I hear he
saved $3000 the other night.”
“DONNA!”
“I’m just saying.”
END