Wistful Thoughts On A Snowy Night

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0 height="100%"><tr> <td valign="top" width=200 BGCOLOR="#003399" TEXT="#080000" background="03fc8c00erkjxk.jpg"> <div> <B>Post-ep for "Holy Night"- Josh POV. </B></div> <bR> <div> <I><B>Josh to Toby: "…you don’t know what I know… I would give anything to have a living father who was a felon or a sister with a past.</B></I><B>"</B></div> <bR> <div> <B>*2003 Golden Coffee Cup Award Nominee</B><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#003399" FACE="Arial" ><B> </B></FONT></div> </td> <td valign="top" BGCOLOR="#0066CC" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#99CCFF" FACE="Arial" ><B>Smiles, Tears, & Happy Endings</B></FONT><FONT SIZE="1" COLOR="#FFFF99" FACE="Arial" > </FONT><FONT SIZE="1" COLOR="#FFFFFF" FACE="Arial" > </FONT><FONT SIZE="1" COLOR="#CC0000" FACE="Arial" > </FONT>  |     <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Smiles, Tears, Happy Endings"><U>home</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id18.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Brandys Stories"><U>Brandy's Stories</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id24.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Other Side"><U>The Other Side</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id25.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Getaway"><U>Getaway</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id32.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Deserved Recognition"><U>Deserved Recognition</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id33.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The End of These Days"><U>The End of These Days</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id34.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Moving On"><U>Moving On</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id35.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Lessons Learned Shared"><U>Lessons- Learned & Shared</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id43.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="So, I Had This Dream..."><U>So, I Had This Dream...</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id214.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Perfect Plan"><U>The Perfect Plan</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id215.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Incredibly Campy Road Trip From Hell"><U>The Incredibly Campy Road Trip From Hell</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id216.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="A Whole New Story"><U>A Whole New Story</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id217.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="What Are Friends For? "><U>What Are Friends For? </U></A>   |   <A HREF="id218.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Walking The Wire"><U>Walking The Wire</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id219.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Foreshadowing, Omens Evidence of Other "><U>Foreshadowing, Omens & Evidence of Other Things in the Wind</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id222.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Up Against the Wall"><U>Up Against the Wall</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id223.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Sum Of My Fears"><U>The Sum Of My Fears</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id220.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Our Dance"><U>Our Dance</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id221.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Shes Got a Way"><U>She's Got a Way</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id52.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Take My Hand"><U>Take My Hand</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id53.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="May Perspective"><U>May Perspective</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id56.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="How Bad Can It Get"><U>How Bad Can It Get</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id181.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Small Mistakes"><U>Small Mistakes</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id182.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Nightcaps"><U>Nightcaps</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id183.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Crazy Boys"><U>Crazy Boys</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id184.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="A Need For Comfort"><U>A Need For Comfort</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id81.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Looking Back"><U>Looking Back</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id109.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Nature of Family"><U>The Nature of Family</U></A>   |   <B>Wistful Thoughts On A Snowy Night</B>   |   <A HREF="id212.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="A Good Brother/Son/Friend"><U>A Good Brother/Son/Friend</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id111.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="When All Else Fails"><U>When All Else Fails</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id187.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Someone Like You"><U>Someone Like You</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id213.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="A Wish For My Friend"><U>A Wish For My Friend</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id188.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Unspoken"><U>Unspoken</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id189.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="A Brief Glimpse"><U>A Brief Glimpse</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id190.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Sanctuary"><U>Sanctuary</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id191.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Contemplation"><U>Contemplation</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id192.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Dirty Work"><U>Dirty Work</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id193.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Precious Moments"><U>Precious Moments</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id194.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Almost Normal"><U>Almost Normal</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id195.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Never Enough"><U>Never Enough</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id112.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The World According To Mark..."><U>The World According To Mark...</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id135.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Heart Cards, Flowers Sweet Stuff"><U>Heart Cards, Flowers & Sweet Stuff</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id185.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Amazed"><U>Amazed</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id199.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Last Call of the Night"><U>Last Call of the Night</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id206.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Fortuitous Visitor"><U>The Fortuitous Visitor</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id136.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Loose Ends"><U>Loose Ends</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id225.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="TeaSympathy Under the Mistletoe"><U>Tea&Sympathy Under the Mistletoe</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id229.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Not So Much Looking Good As Being Good"><U>Not So Much Looking Good As Being Good</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id230.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Moment of Truth"><U>The Moment of Truth</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id231.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Control Choices"><U>Control & Choices</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id36.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Anniversaries AdoAnnie"><U>Anniversaries & Ado-Annie</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id37.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The NonOccasion Occasion"><U>The Non-Occasion Occasion</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id38.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Interlude"><U>Interlude</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id39.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Misdirection Understatement"><U>Misdirection & Understatement</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id51.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Meeting, Damn Depositions Rules"><U>Meeting, Damn Depositions & Rules</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id54.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Realizations Revelations"><U>Realizations &Revelations</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id207.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="A Liberating Quality"><U>A Liberating Quality</U></A></div> <div> Wistful Thoughts On A Snowy Night</div> <bR> <bR> <div> By Brandy</div> <bR> <bR> <div>  </div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div>    It’s odd. Christmas isn’t my holiday. It’s not Toby’s holiday. But it’s had an impact on both of us for different reasons. It has to do with reflection and irony…and thoughts of both the past and the future. Of missed chances and old hurts. Of desperation and hope. Of hard choices and wistful imaginings of what could be…</div> <bR> <div>   I was pleased to see a tentative bridge go up between Toby and his father tonight. Great things really do start with small steps. The first step is acknowledging that no matter what has gone before, no matter what the complications, you should never forsake someone who loves you…someone you love. Someone that you love regardless of how much you try not to. You’ve got to embrace all the chances you get in life to  love and be loved. To waste that is the worst sort of fool’s folly. </div> <bR> <div>   I meant what I said to Toby tonight. I know that he has problems with his father’s past. I understand that it’s hard to reconcile yourself with the idea that your father did things that were less than heroic, less than  honorable. Desperate things. I think that deep down Toby understands why his father did what he did.  He just doesn’t want to. I’m familiar with that line of reasoning. God knows I’ve employed it often enough.</div> <bR> <div>    I think I’m getting better about that now. I’m starting to open my eyes and see what I’ve so vigorously avoided seeing for a long time. I just wonder if my last, best chance didn’t just walk out the door a few hours ago and get on  helicopter on her way to a snow covered Inn in the mountains. To join a guy who is, regrettably, not a gomer-and who I, albeit reluctantly, fixed her up with. How’s that for going out of your way to screw yourself? </div> <bR> <div>   The funny thing is, to the casual observer it may have seemed that I told Jack those funny stories about Donna to embarrass her, or at the very worst to derail any future interest Jack may have had in her. The truth is- I really do love those stories about Donna. They are so…well, Donna. They are the kind of things that make me like her… really like her…okay, love her. I admit it. I’ve been admitting it slowly for some time now. It was like being slowly nudged awake…right up until the moment the person doing the nudging finally gives up and smacks you one. I think the ‘smack’ occurred right around the time that Donna made her request for the fix-up introduction. This was followed by my metaphoric ‘falling out of bed’ until I saw stars… or rather the harsh light of reality. I was in love with Donna. That’s why those stories were endearing. That’s why I always tried to find ways to sabotage her dates. That’s why the thing between Amy and I was doomed to fail. She wasn’t the ‘real thing’. We weren’t the ‘real thing’. Donna is. She really is the one, and all of my efforts to ignore that fact have come to this one moment. This one moment with me standing here thinking of all the things I wish I still had, and all the moments I wish I could do over.</div> <div>   I guess that realization is what made me feel a twinge of guilt when she so willingly came back to help tonight. Even when she was all set to leave. All set to leave and join Jack in the mountain splendor of the snow-covered Washington Inn. So I saw her walking back into the bullpen with that quiet , resigned look- wearing her cute little sweater with the holiday motif, her hairy shining, and her eyes looking even more beautifully blue than I thought possible, and I couldn’t help but say,</div> <div>  "It’s not what it looks like." </div> <bR> <div>   I know, even though she asked me later what I meant, that she knew what I was talking about. I freely admit to having sabotaged her dates in the past. It’s just part of the passive-aggressive way I show my affection for the people I care about at times. Okay, not everybody-just Donna.  But I didn’t do it this time. And I did feel guilty… a little. That’s not to say that I wasn’t willing to make the most out of the situation. I was looking forward to making snowmen with her and helping her and CJ set them up in the press room. I was also really looking forward to taking her to the ’Hawk and Dove’ and getting her a little drunk. Donna’s cute when she gets a little drunk. Cute and kind of sassy…</div> <div>   Of course, by now she’s at that Inn - an Inn that, I , Josh Lyman, White House Deputy Chief of Staff, can’t get reservations at. She’s there. With Jack Reese. And all that wine…</div> <bR> <div>   See, it’s thoughts like these that prompted Leo to tell me to ‘please get it together’. I told him I’m trying. I really am. I just hope I’m not too late, and the effort isn’t useless because the chance is gone. </div> <bR> <div>  Seeing Toby with his dad tonight gave me a little hope. They’ve been screwed up for years and now, it finally looks like they’re making their way towards some kind of peace with each other. Small but important beginnings. Maybe I can do that with Donna too, and I won’t have to add losing her to my list of regrets. </div> <bR> <div>   I’m sitting in my office now, watching the snow fall outside my window. I think Leo and I have done as much as we can do tonight. He told me to go home a while ago, and I will. Soon.  First I’m going to sit here and watch the snow fall and think of the last few Christmases. The one when Donna hugged me for giving her that book- or maybe the hug was because of what I wrote inside it. What I wrote was the truth though. She really is more special and  immensely more valuable than any rare book could ever be.   Then the time, Christmas before last,  when I needed her more than I could possibly have imagined. She knew what I needed then, just like she always has. </div> <div>   Maybe it’s time I expressed to her in more ways than just an inscription in an old book just how valuable she is to me- exactly how much she means to me. No more misdirection. No more evasion. The time for wasting chances is over.</div> <bR> <div>   I just wish I could tell her now. </div> <bR> <div>  I wish she was here with me to make snowmen and drink hot buttered rum, and laugh with me. </div> <bR> <div>  Soon though…</div> <bR> <div>  I’m getting it together- and this time I’m getting it right. </div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div> THE END</div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div>   </div> <div>   </div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>