By Karen T
© November 2001
Disclaimer: Except for Jenn, they're still not mine.
Notes: This story picks up right where "High Expectations" off. Title borrowed from a T. Bone Walker song of the same name.
"She back yet?"
Leo looked up from the papers he'd been flipping through to see the President stride into his office. "Not yet, sir. I'm not sure how long it'll take Jenn to repack her belongings."
"I should've gone with her," Jed firmly stated as he lowered himself into one of the armchairs in Leo's office.
"I'm sure the Secret Service can handle it, sir."
Jed nodded his head absently before chuckling. "Could you believe the fight she put up when I told her I wanted her to check out of the motel she stayed in last night? Who in their right mind turns down an offer to stay in the White House?"
"I don't know, Mr. President," Leo replied, resisting the urge to say more.
But Jed knew he best friend too well. Looking at him pointedly, Jed asked with sigh, "What is it, Leo?"
"Mr. President, you know I would never criticize the way you raise your children, but--"
"Cause I raised two more than you?" Jed interrupted with a laugh.
"But," Leo continued, choosing to ignore Jed's comment, "you pick fights with Jenn every chance you get, and I just don't see how that's constructive."
"I pick fights?" Jed exclaimed, his tone incredulous. "She's the one who constantly picks fights with me."
"Sir, since she's gotten here, every time she makes up her mind to do something, you immediately tell her that you disagree with her decision and think she should do the exact opposite." Leo exhaled slowly through his nose as he moved over to the front of his desk and leaned against it. "You goad her into fights, Jed, and you know it."
Jed opened his mouth as if to protest, but then lowered his head and tiredly rubbed his eyes with his hands. "She's so much like Mel...always ready to fight for what she believes in."
"I thought that was one of the things you loved most about Mel."
"It was...but it was also what ultimately drove us apart." Jed gazed at Leo with mournful eyes before saying, "You should have told me she was sick, Leo."
"I know, sir." Leo looked away and resumed shuffling through the papers on his desk.
"So," Jed uttered authoritatively, the melancholy gone from his voice, "what's the plan for tonight?"
"Well, as we speak, Toby, Josh, C.J., and Sam are going through Jenn's FBI file. When she gets back from the Washington Inn, we'll--"
"Hold on." Jed cocked his head to one side and raised his right hand. "You had the FBI open a file on my daughter?"
"How else did you think I've been keeping an eye on her for the past four years, sir?"
"Okay, fine." Jed shook his head in disbelief but decided not to pursue the matter. "They're reading her file. Then what?"
"When Jenn gets back from checking out of the Washington Inn, she'll meet with the senior staff. They'll ask her some questions, which will probably include questions about how and when she found out you were her father, what her relationship was like with her mother, and what her relationship is like with you."
"Our non-relationship, you mean," Jed mumbled under his breath. "And where is this covert little meeting going to occur?"
"In the conference room downstairs."
Jed was noticeably shaken by the mention of the room where he and his senior staff had congregated months before to plot how he should reveal his MS to the public. Trying to appear nonchalant, he ordered, "Let's move the meeting to the Oval Office. We could order in some coffee, and we'll move be comfortable there, and--"
"No, sir," Leo said firmly. "We're not going to move the location of the meeting."
"Leo," Jed warned, "I know you wouldn't be foolish enough to think you could order me, the President of the--"
"Mr. President," Leo interrupted, "the meeting cannot and will not be moved to the Oval Office because I need the senior staff to feel like they can open every and any door they think they need to without incurring your wrath. Furthermore, I don't think you should be there tonight."
"Leo," Jed growled as he glared at his Chief of Staff.
"Sir, this is a difficult time for us all," Leo began explaining in a calm manner. "But we really don't have time for the senior staff to tip-toe around you as they try to figure out what we should do from here on out. I'll be there to make sure things don't get out of hand, but we really need them to feel like they have free rein tonight. You know I'm right about this."
Jed exhaled loudly and continued glaring at Leo before begrudgingly saying, "Fine. And what, pray tell, do you suggest I do tonight while you're all holding this meeting without me?"
"Might I suggest speaking to a certain First Lady? I'm sure you two can come up with something to talk about."
"Argh," Jed groaned. "I gotta tell you, Leo, I'm really in the doghouse with her on this one."
"Then you two should definitely talk tonight cause you're not getting out of that doghouse by keeping silent."
"Aren't there two countries out there somewhere that need me to write a peace accord for them instead?" Jed jokingly asked as the two men walked out of Leo's office.
"Yes, there is, sir," Leo deadpanned. "And it's called the Peace Treaty of Josiah and Abigail Bartlet."
Josh tossed the FBI file onto the coffee table in Toby's office, leaned back into the couch cushions, and laced his fingers behind his head. "Well, according to that file, Jennifer Erickson's Mother Teresa reincarnated."
"Impossible," Toby grumbled. "Mother Teresa was still alive when she was born."
"I know, Toby. I was just joking."
"Do we know what we're going to be doing tonight?" C.J. asked as she pushed her glasses to the top of her head.
"We'll ask her questions and make sure that what's in that file is what comes out of her mouth," Toby instructed as he stroked his beard.
"But that's an FBI file," Sam remarked.
"Yeah, well, the FBI's been known to make a mistake or two, Sam," Toby sharply said.
C.J. rolled her eyes at the exchange before asking, "Do you think the White House Counsel needs to be there tonight?"
"McMichaels?" Josh asked, his eyebrows shooting upwards. "The guy just got here and we're going to drop this bomb on him? He's going to think Babish had it easy."
"I don't think he needs to be there," Sam volunteered. "This isn't really a legal issue, but more of a moral one. Legally, the President didn't really do anything wrong."
"I don't think he paid child support," Toby pointed out.
"But from what Leo's told us, it sounds like Melanie Erickson wouldn't have accepted his money even if he'd tried," Sam persisted.
"And we don't know that he didn't try," C.J. quickly added.
"Right." Sam jumped to his feet and began fiddling with his tie. "But maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea for one of the Associate White House Counsels to be there. You know, just in case. How about Ainsley?"
"Ainsley?" Josh asked with smirk. C.J. and Toby shared similar smirks with one another.
"What?" Sam demanded. "Ainsley can tell us if any obscure laws have been broken. And, as an added bonus, she's a Republican, so she can let us in on how Republicans are going to react to this news."
"Sam," C.J. began, trying not to laugh, "I think we all have a fairly good idea how Republicans are going to react."
Just then a knock was heard on Toby's door, which was followed by Leo's entrance into the room.
"Is she back?" C.J. asked, uncrossing her legs.
"No," Leo replied as he closed the door behind him. "They'll call when she is. How are things going here?"
"We just finished going over her file," Josh said as he gestured towards it with his head. "She sounds like a really great kid."
"She is," Leo solemnly affirmed.
"Sam wants to invite Ainsley to the meeting tonight," Toby reported, the smirk returning to his face.
"Ainsley?" Leo turned to face Sam, a questioning look on his face.
"What?" Sam exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.
"He thinks she can give us some insight on what the Republican reaction is going to be," Toby continued.
Before Leo could respond, Toby's phone rang. Everyone's smiles vanished as they watched Toby reached for his phone. "Toby Ziegler...okay...thanks." As he hung up, he announced, "She's back."
Everyone flew into action. C.J. stood and smoothed out the front of her skirt. Josh ran his fingers through his hair as Sam struggled back into his black suit jacket. Toby grabbed the FBI file off the table and tucked it under his arm. Leo observed the senior staff with pride for a moment before ordering, "Sam, go see if Ainsley's still here. If she is, quickly fill her in on what's going on and meet us in the conference room."
Sam nodded as he hustled out of Toby's office.
"Are you ready?" Leo asked the remaining senior staff members. They all nodded somberly. "Good. Then let's go. The night's still young."
Jenn sat in the empty conference room with her elbows propped up on the mahogany table and her head resting in her hands. She knew her Uncle Leo and the formidable 'senior staff' would be joining her soon, but she didn't really know what else to expect. All she knew for sure was that she was tired. Extremely tired. And she hadn't even been in Washington, D.C. for twenty-four hours yet.
Just as her exhaustion overtook her and she closed her eyes and began to drift off to sleep, Jenn heard the door hinges squeak. Her eyes flew open and she could feel her heart begin to beat rapidly. She removed her elbows from the table, sat up straight in her chair, and crossed her ankles.
As Leo held the door open for C.J., Toby, and Josh to pass through, he immediately noticed that Jenn had changed when she'd gone to check out of the Washington Inn. In place of the cream blouse and long black skirt she'd worn earlier in the day, she now wore a faded red T-shirt and blue jeans. She'd traded in black sandals for a pair of battered blue canvas sneakers, and had pulled her shoulder length auburn hair into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Void of any make-up or jewelry except for a thin silver band on her right middle finger, Leo felt she looked more like an eighteen year old co-ed waiting for a lecture to begin than a twenty-five year old young woman who was about to undergo an inquisition of sorts.
Jenn's appearance also caught C.J., Toby, and Josh by surprise. Just as Leo had, C.J. and Toby marveled at how young Jenn appeared to be. Josh, however, had a slightly different reaction. His eyes widened in surprise when he caught sight of the President's new daughter. Moving closer to C.J., Josh whispered, "C.J., that's not a kid sitting over there."
C.J. turned towards Josh and looked at him as if he was insane. "No, Joshua, that's not a kid over there."
"Why did I think we were coming down here to talk to a teenager?"
"Because someone's an idiot and obviously wasn't paying much attention when we were going through the FBI file," C.J. said in disgust. To get away from him, she moved forward, pulled out the chair closest to her, and sat down. The chair happened to be situated right across from Jenn.
Still in a fog of confusion, Josh sat down in the chair next to C.J.'s. Toby moved over to the other side of C.J. and chose a seat two chairs down from her but still on the same side of the table.
Jenn breathed a sigh of relief when Leo walked over and sat beside her. As he lowered himself into the chair, he gave her shoulder a slight squeeze and asked, "Things go okay at the motel?"
"Yeah," she replied, nodding.
"Good, good." Sensing Jenn's anxiety, he patted her left hand comfortingly before saying, "We're still waiting for a couple of people, but why don't we start with the introductions anyway. Across from you is C.J. Cregg, our Press Secretary...that's Josh Lyman, the Deputy Chief of Staff...and over there is Toby Ziegler, Director of Communications."
Both Josh and Toby stood and extended their hands toward Jenn. After everyone was reseated, C.J. looked across the table and said, "We're all really sorry about your mother."
"Thank you," Jenn replied stiffly. Before saying any more, she gazed into the older woman's eyes to see if the statement had been heartfelt or had just been said out of a sense of duty. But the brown eyes that looked back at her revealed nothing but sincerity. "Thank you," Jenn repeated, this time sounding like she actually meant it. "That means a lot to me. My mom's probably rolling over in her grave right now knowing that I'm here." A small smile played on her lips as she continued to say, "But that's what she gets for not letting me cremate her." The smile faded as she saw three shocked faces on the other side of the table. "Oh, God," Jenn gasped, her cheeks burning red, "I'm sorry. I develop a really bad sense of humor when I'm nervous."
"Well, there's nothing to be nervous about, right?" Leo pointedly asked the senior staffers.
Before anyone could respond, the door opened and Sam and Ainsley rushed into the room.
"Great, everyone's here now. Jenn, this is Sam Seaborn, the Deputy Director of Communications, and that's Ainsley Hayes, an Associate White House Counsel."
"Counsel?" Jenn asked as she shook Sam's hand. "As in lawyer? We really need a lawyer in here?"
"Actually, there're three lawyers in here. I'm a lawyer and Sam's a lawyer," Josh clarified.
"But he's not a real lawyer," Sam quickly added.
"Okay..." Jenn muttered. Josh and Sam's banter had unnerved her. She turned towards Leo, waiting for him to dictate what would happen next.
When that didn't happen, C.J. leaned forward and said, "I think that what we'd like to do tonight is learn a little bit more about who you are."
"Who I am? But I'm sure Uncle Leo's already told you all about me." Jenn once again turned towards Leo.
"I think they want to hear it from you," Leo explained, ignoring the little smiles that were on the faces of the room's other occupants. It wasn't every day they got to hear someone refer to their boss with such a term of endearment.
"Oh, okay. Um, where should I begin?" Jenn asked.
"How about wherever you feel comfortable?" Josh suggested. "I'm sure one of us will stop you if we have any questions."
"Okay, well, my name's Jennifer Erickson, but I go by Jenn. That's spelled with two 'n's, and please try to remember that because I do get pissed if people spell it wrong after I've told them how it's spelled."
At this declaration, Josh scribbled '2 Ns' on his pad of paper and underlined it twice for added effect.
"I was born on February 22, 1976," Jenn continued, "so that makes me twenty-five. I was born and raised in Berkeley, California. Um, let's see. What else? For the past three years, I've been the Director of this program that works with kids who have Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. We work with these kids, their families, and their schools to help provide them with the kind of support they need to succeed in life. We also conduct various types of research that looks at the effects that medicinal and behavioral therapy has on ADHD kids. Before that, I went to college at the University of California at Berkeley, and graduated from there in...1998 with BAs in English and Psychology." Jenn paused as she caught Sam shoot C.J. a look. "An alum?"
C.J. nodded. "MA in Communications, Class of '88."
"Go Bears," Jenn cheered emotionlessly, but the twinkle in her eyes revealed the large amounts of school pride she wasn't revealing.
"What did you do at Berkeley?" Toby asked gruffly.
"Excuse me?" Jenn sat up even straighter in her chair and narrowed her eyes. She had a feeling Toby wanted to know whether she'd used any drugs while in college, and, for some reason, she found herself quite offended at the prospect of that question. Perhaps because she didn't feel like it was any of their business.
"What did you do while at Berkeley?" Toby repeated.
"You means besides going to college?"
"I just want to know what--"
"Oh!" Jenn exclaimed, feigning ignorance. "You want to know what I did during those rare moments when I wasn't hung over or in a drug-induced haze!"
"Jenn," Leo began as he placed a hand on her shoulder, "I don't think that's what Toby was trying to--"
"Like hell it wasn't, Uncle Leo," Jenn interrupted, shrugging off his hand. To Toby, she coldly said, "I went to Berkeley for an education. I chose to major in two subjects that required enormous amounts of reading. You wanna know what I did in college? I read, I wrote, and then I read some more. Oh, and if I had the time, I slept a little, too. That okay with you?"
C.J. lowered her head and covered her face with her hands. There was no doubt Jenn was the President's daughter. They both shared the same quick temper that flared up the minute they heard something they didn't like. It was definitely going to be a long night.
11:49 PM
It had been almost an hour since they'd first assembled together in the basement. During that span of time, Jenn had blown up at Toby exactly seven times, and Sam had managed to fill twenty-four pages of his notepad with pertinent information. Tired of being verbally attacked every time he'd say a word, Toby retreated to the northeast corner of the room, content with observing the proceedings from his post there. As the hands on the clock in the room inched closer and closer to midnight, everyone's eyes grew a little heavier and they all began slouching in their seats. Leo rubbed his tired eyes and stifled a yawn as Ainsley took over the line of questioning.
"Did anyone ever tell you to keep who your father is a secret?" Ainsley asked as she nibbled on one of the chocolate chip cookies Leo had succeeded in finding in the mess.
"No." Jenn shook her head warily.
"Did anyone ever explicitly imply it would be a good idea for you not to tell anyone who your father is?"
"No."
"Did anyone ever implicitly imply it would be a good idea for you not to tell anyone who your father is?"
"No," Jenn sighed.
"Then why didn't you ever tell anyone?" Ainsley asked, the amazement in her voice clearly evident.
"Don't know," Jenn mumbled as she wondered if it would be rude for her to rest her head on the table. "Guess it never came up."
"Never came up?" Ainsley dropped the cookie onto her plate in astonishment. "If he was my dad, I'd be telling everyone--"
"Ainsley..." Josh shot her a look that clearly told her to get back on track.
"Right." Looking down at the questions written on her notepad, she asked, "Did your mother ever tell you that she didn't think you should tell anyone who your father is?"
Jenn rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to say something mean. "No one -- and that includes my mom -- ever told me that I couldn't or shouldn't tell people who my father is."
"And you still didn't ever--" Ainsley began to ask.
"Ainsley," Leo uttered, "I think we can say without a doubt that no one ever told Jenn to conceal the identity of her father."
She nodded and resumed eating her cookie.
Josh tilted his chair backwards so that its front legs rose off the floor. "How did you find out your father is Jed Bartlet?"
"I asked my mom."
"Just like that?" C.J. asked.
"Yeah. I think I caught her by surprise, though. It wasn't every day that our after-school conversation would go, 'How was school, honey?' 'Fine.' 'Learn anything new?' 'Not really...Mom, who's my dad?'" Jenn relayed this story with a smile as she recalled the event. "Even though I was only ten, the concept of an MIA dad wasn't foreign to me because I had lots of friends who also didn't have live-in dads. The difference between them and me, though, was that they all knew something about their fathers. I mean, they knew they were either great dads who just happened to live in another town or they were deadbeat dads who no one wanted around or they were boyfriends who'd disappeared before they were born. Something like that. But I didn't know anything about my dad. My mom never said a word about him. I was beginning to wonder if he even existed, so I just asked her one day after school. Two weeks later, she asked me if I wanted to meet him."
"And you did," Sam remarked.
"Yeah. He came and spent...a weekend with us, I think. And then a week or two later, he came and visited again."
"You also spent some time with the Bartlets in New Hampshire, didn't you?" Josh asked.
"Yeah, I visited there two or three times."
"Did you like it?"
"It was okay, I guess. I don't really remember much about the visits. They had a nice house...a big yard. It was fun to play there."
"But then the visits stopped, right?"
"Yeah."
"Did you ever ask your mom why?"
"Once. She told me she didn't think it was a good idea for me to see him anymore."
"Do you know why she felt that way?"
Jenn eyed Josh for a moment before replying, "I was ten, so I wasn't exactly privy to my mother's thoughts."
"And that was that?" Sam asked. "You never tried to contact the President as you got older?"
"Nope. I knew my mother didn't want me to see him anymore, and that was good enough for me."
"And you still never told anyone about him?" Ainsley persisted as she reached for another cookie.
Everyone in the room groaned at Ainsley's question, and Sam begged, "Ainsley, please, let it go."
"What?" she asked in mock surprise. "I'm just curious. That's all."
After they had all recovered from Ainsley's last remark, Josh solemnly said, "We heard that your mother suffered from manic depression. Is that true?"
Toby could immediately tell Josh had hit a nerve as he observed Jenn's shoulder muscles tighten and her mouth fall into a straight line.
"Yes," Jenn said slowly, her voice guarded, "my mom was bipolar." She purposely chose to use the technical term for her mother's illness.
"When did you find out?"
"Do you want to know when I was informed by her doctor or when I first knew?"
Toby could tell Jenn was intentionally answering Josh's question with a question in the hopes of throwing him off track.
"Is there a difference?" Josh asked.
Jenn stared dispassionately at him for a moment before saying in a monotone voice, "A doctor told me when I was twelve because that's when--" Jenn stopped mid-sentence as she caught herself almost revealing more than she'd intended to. "I was told when I was twelve, but I've always known my mom was bipolar."
"Even as a kid?" Sam asked in surprise, looking up from his notepad.
"I didn't know what it was officially called back then, but, yeah, I don't remember a time when I wasn't aware of the fact that there was something different about my mother...that she wasn't like any of the other mothers I knew."
"Was she prescribed any medication?" C.J. asked.
"Yes."
"Did she take the medication she was prescribed?" Toby asked from the corner of the room.
Jenn took a second to glare at him before begrudgingly admitting, "No. She was prescribed a bunch of different drugs that are known as 'mood stabilizers.' Lithium's a good example of one. They're supposed to make going from a manic episode to a depressive episode less severe, and vice versa for going from a depressive episode to a manic episode. One of the problems with them, though, is that they're only really effective if they're taken consistently. But one of their side effects is extreme lethargy. My mom hated the way she felt when she was on them. She said she felt like she was spending her days underwater. Because of that, she rarely took any of those drugs."
"Was she prescribed any other medications?" C.J. queried.
"What wasn't she prescribed?" Jenn asked with a sardonic chuckle. "Since she wouldn't take the mood stabilizers, her doctor prescribed her a bunch of different antidepressants for when she was experiencing depression, as well as a bunch of different anti-anxiety pills when she was manic. But she wasn't really good at taking any of those, either. So all we really ended up with was a pharmacy in our bathroom cabinet."
"That must have been a lot for you to deal with through the years," C.J. commented empathetically.
Jenn shrugged and tried to appear indifferent. "Everyone has their cross to bear."
"And your cross was your mother," Sam quietly muttered as he continued scribbling away on his notepad.
"No," Jenn asserted forcibly. "My cross was my mother's illness. My mother was a wonderful human being and parent who I still love with all my heart."
Jenn leaned forward in her seat and placed her elbows on the table, an expression of ferocity on her face. She eyed each member of the senior staff, ready to go to battle if any of them appeared to be questioning her love for her mother. But rather than encountering looks of doubt, she instead found herself facing expressions of sympathy. Even Toby looked at her with kind, sorrowful eyes. She was prepared to deal with questions about her loyalty or accusations regarding her current decision to be in Washington, D.C., but pity? Pity that had to do with her and her relationship with her mother was the one thing she couldn't handle at the moment.
Lowering her head, Jenn slipped off the rubber band that had been holding back her hair and allowed her hair to fall forward and cover her face. "Could we please take a break?" she asked plaintively. "It feels like...I could...I just need a break."
Leo looked at the broken soul who sat beside him and had to use every iota of strength to resist pulling her into his arms for a consoling hug. He instead stood up and announced, "Yeah, a break sounds like a good idea. Let's meet back here in fifteen minutes."
Jenn didn't raise her head until she was sure everyone had left the room.
12:43 AM
After they had reconvened, Leo steered the questioning to what he thought would be benign topics. He soon discovered, however, that there was no such thing as a benign topic where Jenn was concerned. She'd caught her second wind during the break, and was now having quite a bit of fun at the expense of the senior staff.
"Religion?" Josh asked, literally crossing his fingers that Jenn wouldn't provide another ludicrous answer.
"What about it?"
Josh slowly closed his eyes. "Do you consider yourself belonging to a specific religion?"
"Nope. Don't believe in it."
C.J. grimaced slightly at this response, but Sam appeared nonplussed as he mumbled, "Doesn't believe in God." He didn't think that would cause much controversy since many people were atheists these days.
"Actually, no," Jenn corrected, covering her smile with her left hand. "I believe in God, but I don't believe in religion."
"How can you not believe in religion?" Ainsley asked in disbelief. "Your father's a devout Catholic."
Jenn shrugged her shoulders. "What can I say? He didn't raise me. And I don't have a problem with all religion, just organized religion."
"And what's so wrong with organized religion?" Josh asked as he picked his jaw from off the floor.
"Oh, my God, what isn't wrong with it? All organized religion does is bring together a group of people who believe in the same thing so that they can band together, happily lock themselves into their own tiny ideological worlds, and look down upon those who don't happen to believe in the same God or whatever. What is organized religion, really, but an active and accepted form of modern day segregation."
"The religious right is just going to love her," Josh sarcastically whispered to C.J.
"So let me get this straight," Sam said. "If there's a farmer somewhere who worships his goat because he thinks the goat is God, then you're fine with that. But Judaism and Christianity, that's just pure evil."
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Fantastic," Toby grumbled as he rose to feet and began pacing around the room. "Could we move on, please?"
"Please tell us you're a Democrat," Josh begged.
Jenn hesitated for a moment before deciding to take pity on them. "Yes, I am...would you like to see my card?"
"You guys hand out cards?" Ainsley asked. Sam hushed her with a shake of his head.
"And please tell us you voted for your father in the last election," Josh said.
"Yeah, I did. But only because he really was the best candidate."
"There's one thing I'm still curious about," C.J. announced. "You mentioned that you've been working for the past two years, but what about before then? How did you and your mother make ends meet while you were growing up? There are so many expenses. To our understanding, your mother never accepted any of the President's money. How did you two ever survive?"
"It wasn't easy," Jenn admitted seriously. "Some times were more difficult than others. Because my mom's manic depression made it difficult for her to hold a steady job, we received Social Security Disability benefits every month, and we did our best to make that stretch as far as we could. Her manic depression got worse as she got older, but there were times when my mom was able to keep a job for a few months at a time. Nothing big, but they helped with our cash flow. We also lived on the ground floor of a duplex and rented out one of our rooms to college students. That extra money definitely helped. Thank God for rent control or else we would've ended up on the streets years ago."
"But what about college?" C.J. asked. "There's room and board, books, parties..."
"I decided to go to UC Berkeley because I didn't want to leave my mom alone for four years, but also because going there meant I could stay at home and save us some money. I didn't have to pay out-of-state tuition, and I was able to live at home and bike to campus. I also worked part-time as a librarian at one of the city's libraries."
"But I can't imagine that working part-time would pay your entire tuition."
"It didn't. I had a Cal Grant."
"And that covered everything?" Josh asked.
"No," Jenn stated. "When I was in college, there was a huge mismanagement of the Cal Grant funds. I don't know if any of you recall this, but that was one of the big reasons for why Governor Phillips wasn't re-elected in '96. Anyway, when I'd made my decision to go to Berkeley, my school counselor had led me to believe that the Cal Grant would cover all of my fees, which was exactly what I wanted to hear because my mother hadn't been doing well psychologically my last two years in high school and we were up to our ears in debt. You can imagine my surprise when I discovered that my Cal Grant would only be able to cover a third of my total college tuition.
"By then, most foundations had already chosen the recipients for their scholarships. Not that it would have really mattered because my grades weren't that great anyway. I wasn't really good then at figuring out how to juggle taking care of my mother with trying to pay our bills on time with finding the time and motivation to study for a Biology test."
Jenn exhaled slowly as she remembered that chaotic time in her life. "I was totally freaking out, looking under every rock for hidden funds, but I was getting nowhere. I'd basically decided that I either had to put off college or sell myself into prostitution when my counselor stumbled across this obscure little foundation that was still willing to accept late applications for their scholarships." A smile came to her lips as she shook her head, still amazed at the events that followed. "I swear, that foundation, Hearts to Hands, was a God-send. The scholarship they awarded me not only covered the rest of my tuition, but it also paid for all my books and supplies. It gave me some much needed breathing room."
"Why does that name sound so familiar?" Sam asked as he began twirling his pen. Leo looked up in alarm and started to shake his head, but Sam missed the sign as he exclaimed, "Oh, I know! Hearts to Hands...Leo, wasn't that the name of the foundation Jenny ran a few..." His words slowly trailed off as he finally noticed Leo vigorously shaking his head, a distinct frown on his face.
Jenn turned towards Leo and asked incredulously, "Jenny? As in your wife?"
"Actually, it's his ex-wife now," Sam interjected before Leo had a chance to reply.
Leo glared at Sam, anger etched all over is face, and growled, "Sam..." Both Josh and C.J. had to bite their lower lips to keep from laughing.
"Well, she is," Sam mumbled quietly to himself as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
Turning to address Jenn, Leo reached out for her hand. "Jenn--"
"You and Jenny rigged the scholarship competition?" Jenn cried as she pulled her hand away.
"No, we didn't. We--"
"Oh my God! You two actually rigged the competition!" Jenn buried her head in her hands. "Some innocent person out there didn't get the scholarship they deserved because I just happened to know--"
"Jenn!" Leo shouted. "We didn't rig anything!" He paused for a second to collect himself before continuing calmly on to say, "The foundation's two scholarships for your year were awarded to two very deserving individuals. One went to BC, and I think the other ended up at the University of Washington. I found out that your Cal Grant fell short of covering your tuition, and I knew that you were probably worried out about how--"
"How did you find out that my Cal Grant...?" Jenn asked in confusion before holding up hands. "Never mind. I don't want to know."
"I knew you were probably worried about how you were going to be able to pay for college. Jenny and I talked about it and decided that we wanted to help because we didn't want you to feel like you had to postpone college because of money issues. I knew you wouldn't take our money if we just gave it to you, so we developed this elaborate plan that involved anonymously sending your counselor one of the foundation's applications with a note saying it was still accepting late applicants. Every semester when the foundation cut you a check, Jenny and I were recharged for that amount. No one did anything illegal."
Jenn closed her eyes and sighed. "I can't believe you two did that."
"We wanted "You know I'm going to pay you back every cent, don't you?"
"No, you're not. It wasn't a loan. Can't you just think of it as a gift and be appreciative like any regular human being?"
"Oh, don't you try and act like you're the one who has the right to be offended here. You're the one who went behind my back and did all this."
"I'm not accepting any money from you, Jenn."
"Yeah, you are, Uncle Leo."
"Jenn, why must you always be so--"
"Anyone want to know what I'm still curious about?" Toby interrupted in a loud voice.
All eyes in the rooms refocused themselves on him. "Toby?" Leo prompted.
"Isn't manic depression hereditary?"
Jenn's mouth slightly fell open in surprise when the implications to this question registered in her mind. She quickly recovered and frostily replied, "I'm not even going to dignify that question with a response."
"Why not?" Toby demanded, taking a step closer to the table. "It's a justifiable question. We're about to unveil you to the world as the President's newly discovered daughter, and I think we have the right to know if you're going to flip out on us anytime soon."
"Toby," C.J. warned.
"What? Aren't we all wondering that same thing?"
Through clenched teeth, Jenn said, "The first signs of manic depressive begin exhibiting themselves when someone is in their twenties. I am now halfway through my twenties, and I have yet to experience any signs of clinical depression or mania...unless you count the fact that I'm totally going to kick your ass--" The last words in her sentence were muffled by the sound of her jumping to her feet and lurching across the table for Toby.
Both Leo and Josh automatically jumped to their feet as well. Leo instinctually grabbed Jenn's left arm, and Josh looked back and forth between Jenn and Toby, wavering between whom he should hold back.
"All right! Enough!" Leo yelled as he moved himself in front of Jenn. "Why don't we call it a night? It's late and we're all tired. Go home, everyone, and get some sleep. We'll meet back here tomorrow morning at nine, okay?"
Relieved at being dismissed but also still in shock over the physical fight that had almost transpired between Jenn and Toby, Ainsley, C.J., Sam, and Josh nodded their heads and began collecting their belongings. Toby, however, stood his ground and continued glaring at Jenn. As Sam tossed his coffee cup into the trash, he lightly tapped Toby on his shoulder. "C'mon, Toby, let's go."
After allowing a few seconds to pass, Toby assented by grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair and allowing Sam to lead him towards the door.
After the senior staff had departed, Leo managed to get Jenn back into her seat and made her drink an entire glass of water. By the time the glass was empty, her face was no longer bright red and her hands had stopped trembling.
"I really lost my cool there, didn't I?" she asked sheepishly.
"It's okay," Leo consoled. "It was completely understandable."
"Uncle Leo, I just tried to punch the Director of Communications."
"Yeah, well, you wouldn't be the first who'd wanted to do that. Ready to go?"
Jenn nodded and pushed back her chair. "This has been quite a day."
"No kidding."
The pair made their way back up to the main level of the White House in silence.
"Do you know which room you're spending the night in?" Leo finally asked.
"There was some talk about it being the Lincoln Room."
"That's a nice room."
"So was the one at the Washington Inn."
Leo laughed at the comment and put his arm around her shoulders. "Thanks for humoring your dad about that. I know you didn't want to check out of that place. He's just trying to be the father he never got the chance to be to you."
"Does he have to pack twenty-five years of it into the first day I'm reunited with him?" Jenn asked gravely.
Leo pulled her closer to her as he gave her a sideways hug. They began walking towards the Residence when Jenn said, "I'm sorry I was so difficult tonight. I just...I don't know what came over me." She then smiled mischievously. "Although I have to admit it was pretty fun to mess with their minds."
"You were playing around?" Leo asked, relieved. "So you were just kidding about that whole religion thing."
"Well, maybe...just a little," she confessed with a coy smile. As Leo began to laugh in spite of himself, Jenn grew grim and stated, "I was serious about paying you and Jenny back for my tuition, though."
"Jenn..."
"No, I mean it, Uncle Leo. I will pay you back all the money -- with interest -- even if it means stuffing your coffin with the cash right before they bury you."
"Well, that's a pretty picture," Leo said sarcastically. "Thanks."
Jenn responded by nudging him playfully with her hip. After they'd walked a few more steps, she quietly asked, "You and Jenny are really divorced?"
"Yeah."
She shook her head sadly. "God, it just seems like everything's changed so fast. You're divorced...my mom's dead...I'm here in D.C. picking fights with the President's senior staff..."
"Things'll get better, Jenn," Leo assured her. "You and your dad will figure things out, and we'll figure out a way to introduce you to the public without it blowing up in either your face or the President's. Things'll be better tomorrow, I promise."
"Stormy Monday," Jenn mumbled unconsciously.
"What? It's not Monday."
"Oh, I-I know," Jenn stammered, annoyed with herself for even saying the phrase. "It's just the title to a blues song."
"Blues, huh? How's it go?"
"Um, something like, 'They call it stormy Monday, but Tuesday's just as bad. Wednesday's not much better, and Thursday's also sad.'"
"My God, you're pessimistic," Leo declared in astonishment as he pulled away from her and looked her squarely in the eyes.
"I think I picked it up when I learned how to talk."
"Things will be better tomorrow, Jenn," Leo insisted as they resumed walking.
"We'll see, Uncle Leo. We'll see."
-the end-