ACT 2
EXT. RESIDENCE, SUN PORCH – Saturday
Senator Gordon Rudolph didn't mind the heat. Being from
"Welcome, Senator. Hello, Mrs. Rudolph," Helen Santos said as she shook her guests' hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise, ma'am," Mrs. Rudolph replied.
"Call me Helen and please don't 'ma'am' me. I get that enough around the office." She grinned.
"As long as you call me Marilyn."
The President greeted the Senator with a firm hand shake and his wife with a quick hug. "Thank you both for coming."
Helen introduced Bram and Annabeth as well. Bram was slightly hung over from the night before, but he played it off well. Annabeth was as perky as usual.
"Thanks for having us," the Senator responded. "Where are those boys?"
Just then, Peter and the Rudolph boys ran outside. Echoes of "Hi, Mom and Dad" flew out of their mouths as they picked up speed on the South Lawn. Peter and Ethan had become fast friends at school and were in the same summer sports camp. Ethan's younger brother, Derek, was a year behind, but the boys were inseparable.
"I hope they weren't too much trouble," Marilyn said.
"Nonsense," Helen replied, pouring several glasses of lemonade. "They played video games and ping pong until bedtime. They even invited Miranda to join them."
"Of course, my son wanted none of that,"
The guests laughed as they accepted the lemonade from the First Lady.
"The boys were fascinated by Beebo," Helen stated.
"Beebo?" Marilyn asked.
"The bearded dragon. My kids weren't satisfied with a normal pet."
"You own a dragon?"
Helen nodded. "He's not very photogenic, but he's cute in a reptilian sort of way."
It was no secret why the Rudolphs were there. The President wouldn't invite a Republican family to the Residence just for the hell of it. He had a mission. But the fact that their sons were friends made brunch less awkward.
"How are ya'll adjusting to a permanent life in DC?" Marilyn asked.
"Oh, it's fine," Helen replied. "What I'm still having a hard time with is not being able to go to the grocery store without a band of Secret Service agents. In fact, I've only been once because they have to shut the whole place down."
"An excuse not to go grocery shopping? I'll take it!"
The women chuckled.
It quickly became clear to
As the President and the Senator reached for another piece of French toast,
"They let you play with charcoal?" Rudolph asked with a smirk.
"On second thought, maybe it was the Secret Service who demanded brunch instead of barbeque,"
"Yes, sir. Looking forward to it." He smiled.
CUT TO:
INT. MIRROR POINT
"Arthur, what do you make of the recent Zogby poll?" a reporter asked on CNN.
"Clearly the President has seen success in his first 100 days," Arthur began, "but the public doesn't seem to think he's a great communicator."
Josh looked up from his notes and focused on the television. "Donna!"
She appeared with two glasses of water. "Are they talking about the Zogby poll?"
"Yeah." He turned the volume louder.
Donna moved a stack of papers and sat next to him.
"How do you mean?" the reporter asked.
"Well, Leslie," the political analyst began. "Zogby asked the question, 'Do you think President Santos communicates well with the public?' The results were a bit surprising. Only 42% said yes, meaning the majority of the country doesn't think he's an effective communicator."
Josh sighed. "Damn."
Donna shrugged. "That doesn't change the overall approval rating. I think Zogby has us at 56%."
"That's not what I'm worried about." He leaned back.
Suddenly it dawned on her. "Sam."
"Yeah."
"This is the reason he's been so..."
Josh ran a hand through his hair. "When we worked for President Bartlet, our polling numbers for 'effective communicator' were always the highest."
She sighed. "Sam doesn't think that Lou's team has enough experience to get our message across."
He rubbed his neck. "I think we found the problem."
CUT TO:
EXT. SOUTH LAWN
"No fair!" Peter yelled. "We want Bram on our team."
"It's me, you and Ethan. We'll beat 'em without Bram," the President told his son.
They tossed the football around a bit, getting loosened up. It had been years since
"Have you had a chance to read the energy bill?" he asked the Senator.
Rudolph stretched his arm across his chest. "Eight hundred and twenty pages."
"Then you're halfway through,"
"I'll be honest, Mr. President, this is going to be a tough one to pass in the Senate."
"That's why I'm counting on you to lead your party."
"Then let's discuss the first issue: drilling."
Derek tugged on his father's shirt. "Are you ready?"
The Senator ruffled his son's hair. "I am if they are."
"You bet," the President responded.
They quickly reviewed the rules of the no-tackle game as Peter and Ethan created an end-zone dance routine. Bram showed them a couple of moves as he spiked the ball and looked more like a chicken than Terrell Owens.
The
"I know you'll never go for drilling in ANWR; but if you're serious about reducing our dependence on foreign oil, we need to look at other possibilities in this country," Rudolph said as he defended
Ethan threw the ball to Peter who caught it but was promptly tagged by Derek.
"Nice catch!" Bram said, impressed by Peter's skilled hands.
"That's why we're willing to increase oil production in the Gulf of Mexico and off the Alaskan coast,"
The Senator stood behind the line of scrimmage for the next play. "Increasing production in the Gulf by 20% isn't going to cut it."
"What do you recommend?"
"At least 30 if not 40%."
Ethan called the next play, sending everyone down field. Bram nearly intercepted the pass.
"So close!" Derek high-fived him.
"We'll increase
"Half?" the Senator balked. "Due respect, sir, there's no way that's going to fly."
"I'm willing to work with you on that, Gordon, if you're willing to work with me on protecting the environment and looking at new ways to generate energy."
"We can certainly talk about it," Rudolph said. "I'll have my assistant call yours on Monday."
The President smiled and nodded. "Very good."
The men ran out for their third down, and
A painful moan echoed in the air.
The Rudolph boys gasped as they watched their father fall.
"My arm!" Gordon yelled, rolling onto his back.
Bram signaled for the Secret Service agents. They ran to the scene.
"Let me see it,"
CUT TO:
EXT.
The wind was just right for sailing as Sam and Lauren glided down the Bay in a 19-foot O'Day Mariner.
"She's old, but she'll do," Sam commented as he raised the mast.
"I forgot how much I missed sailing," Lauren said, sucking in a deep breath of sea air. "This is heavenly."
Sam smiled. "It is."
Lauren guided the rudder and waited for Sam to join her in the stern. "I'm sure one of the marinas in DC rents sailboats. We should look into it."
"The James Creek Marina does." Sam looked at his BlackBerry. "But it's an older fleet of small boats."
If Lauren noticed her fiancé checking the electronic device, she didn't mention it. "I'll take anything with a sail right now."
"I hate to do this, honey, but I have to return this call." Sam's eyes were still focused on the BlackBerry.
"I know your job's important, Sam, but can't you spend one or two days without thinking about work?" Lauren asked with a mild sigh.
Sam's head shot up. "The government doesn't shut down on weekends, Lauren."
"The polling numbers are good, there's nothing new in
Sam looked at the water surrounding them and watched a wind surfer wipe out. He noticed a couple in a larger sailboat laughing, and another couple jumping waves on jet skis. It was in that moment when he realized he shouldn't be thinking about work. He had a beautiful, loving woman next to him and an entire day without having to be anywhere. Why couldn't he just enjoy it?
"You're right," he admitted, putting an arm around Lauren's shoulders. "Work can wait."
She gave him an appreciative smile but wondered how long her fiancé could keep that promise.
CUT TO:
INT. MIRROR POINT INN, MAGNOLIA COTTAGE
It was usually Donna who warded off Josh's sexual advances. After all, he would be perfectly happy having sex three times a day, eight days a week. However, over the last few weeks, Donna found herself insatiable. Part of it, she thought, had to do with summertime. When Josh wasn't wearing a suit, he was in casual shorts and a t-shirt. He no longer used the treadmill as a place to hang his dry cleaning. In fact, Josh jogged at least three times a week, making his legs even more impressive than before. What Donna didn't understand was how the muscles in her boyfriend's arms had become so
defined. She'd exhausted all of the possibilities except one; it had to be the sex.
As he laid halfway on top of her, spent from a delectable round of love-making, or more accurately put – hot sex, Donna ran her hand up Josh's bicep and grinned.
She never thought they'd be a "missionary style" couple. This wasn't to say that they only did it in the more traditional position. In fact, they thoroughly enjoyed mixing it up.
Take, for example, their most recent session which ended not five minutes ago. Lauren and Sam were sailing, Josh and Donna had finished their talking points for the clambake, and they had an hour to kill before getting ready for the evening. Why wouldn't they take advantage of their private time and the king-sized bed? To be fair, they never actually made it to the bed, but the plush rug and fluffy pillows on the floor suited them just fine.
It was true that Josh ended up on top more often than not, but they'd usually start out with Donna in that position. This time was no different, except for the sideways action in the beginning. Which brought Donna back to the original point: her fascination with Josh's incredibly toned arms. With all of that supporting he had to do, she was certain it was equivalent to at least 50 push-ups.
"You know there's a huge bed up there," Josh said with his head on her chest.
"Yes," she responded, finally getting her breathing back under control. "I do."
He lifted his head to look at her. "Then why the hell are we on the floor?"
Donna shrugged. "It was the closest flat surface."
"But the bed is –"
She interrupted him with a kiss. A kiss that almost had him ready for round two. As Josh ran his hand up the curve of Donna's hip, a cell phone rang.
"Ugh," he grunted. "Yours or mine?"
"Yours." Donna reached for the annoying device on the chair next to the door, giving Josh a nice view of her long, alabaster torso.
"Josh Lyman." His voice came out somewhat strained.
"Josh? Are you ok?"
He quickly sat up. "Mr. President?"
Donna's eyes flew open. As if the leader of the free world could see them somehow, she grabbed a blanket from the bed to cover herself and handed Josh his boxers.
"There's been a little accident,"
"An accident?" Josh slipped on the underwear but had a hard time standing upright. His legs were still trembling from this thing they did where...
"I broke Senator Rudolph's arm," the President blurted out.
"I'm sorry, sir. We must have a bad connection." Josh steadied himself against the armoire. "It sounded like you said you broke Senator Rudolph's arm."
"The connection's fine, Josh. We were playing football. I cut hard right, pushing off the Senator, and he fell."
Josh ran a hand through his hair. Donna had wrapped herself in the blanket and had gone into the living room to retrieve the trail of clothing they'd left behind.
"Have you spoken with Lou yet?" Josh asked.
"Just before calling you,"
Donna handed Josh his t-shirt, which he quickly put over his head. It was on backwards, but he didn't care. "This is going to be a thing."
"I realize that," the President responded. Josh pictured him with one hand on his hip. "That's why I'm calling."
"I'm sure Lou's already contacted the staff," Josh said. "I'll get in touch with her right away."
"Should I call to apologize?"
"No," Josh responded quickly. "Don't do anything until you talk to Lou again."
The President let out a long breath. "It was an accident, Josh."
"Yes, sir." He ran a hand through his hair. "We'll take care of it."
"Ok," he said. "Ok."
Donna had cleaned up all remnants of their escapade that began in the living room and ended on the bedroom floor. She stood in the doorway as Josh hung up the phone. "The President broke the Senator's arm?"
Josh sighed. "Yeah."
She shrugged. "Hey, it's better than when President Bartlet rode his bike into a tree."
His face slowly broke into a smile. "That's for damn sure."
CUT TO:
INT. OTTO'S APARTMENT
Otto said a silent prayer, thanking God for bringing Lester into his life. The young deputy hadn't been able to get up off the couch, much less go out for the world's best hangover remedy – a greasy burger. He'd already vomited twice, both times barely making it to the bathroom. His hangover was bordering on the worst he'd ever had, and no amount of water or Gatorade helped.
"I thought you could use some food." Lester handed him a Burger King bag.
Otto threw his arms around the Press Secretary. "You're a life saver."
"Whoa, man. A 'thank you' would've been enough." Lester closed the door and followed Otto to the kitchen table. "Looks like you haven't done much of anything today."
"You're lucky I even got dressed." The younger man popped a French fry into his mouth. "You're not even slightly hung over?"
"Oh, I am. Just not as bad as you."
"What's your secret?" He took a bite of the burger.
"Stopping after number four," Lester replied with a smirk.
His phone chirped, indicating a text message. Otto's did the same a few seconds later. Lester looked at the screen. "It's Lou."
Otto's eyes grew wide.
Lester hit number three on his speed dial. "Lou, what's up?"
"I need you at work. There's been an accident," Lou replied without pretense.
"What kind of accident?" He looked at Otto, who stopped chewing for a moment.
Lou sighed. "The President broke Senator Gordon Rudolph's arm."
"He broke the Senator's arm?" Lester's eyebrows shot up. "The *Republican* senator?"
Otto almost choked.
"How'd that happen? I thought they were having brunch?" Lester asked.
"I'll fill you in on the details when you get here," Lou said. "Do me a favor; call Otto."
"I'm with him now. We'll be there in 20 minutes." He hung up.
Otto swallowed hard. "Tell me it wasn't President Santos who broke the Senator's arm."
"I could, but I'd be lying." Lester stood. "If you have to puke, do it now."
END ACT 2