Completed: 11/24/04
Rating: R
Summary: Josh and Donna spend Thanksgiving with Josh’s mom, and they shower a lot.
Author’s Notes: This is the third of several follow-ups to the What We Do series. You need to read the series first to get this.
“Do I look ok?” Did she just ask me if she looks ok? That’s a loaded question, isn’t it? Some sort of test? Oh…women test men, don’t put it past her. She’s Judas, remember?
“What?” I ask cautiously.
“Do I look ok? Do I have food on my face? Is my hair sticking up in all directions like… well, yours?” Mine? Excuse me? “Does my outfit match? Is it wrinkled? Is my make-up even? You know, do I look ok?”
I look at her; she looks amazing. She always looks amazing. When her hair’s in a ponytail and that one section that always slips out has slipped out and she’s wearing my bright orange boxers with her maroon La Follette High School Lancer Marching Band t-shirt that’s too small and has the bleach stain on the left shoulder and the frayed out hem and her breath smells really gross because she just woke-up and mascara is smeared underneath her eyes because she fell asleep watching TV on the couch before she washed her face…even then she looks amazing.
“You look gorgeous,” I say, leaning over and kissing her shoulder. “You always look gorgeous.”
I’m just starting to think I’m going to get some points for that when she looks at me like I couldn’t possibly know how she really looks. And if that were the case, why’d she ask me? “That’s just because no matter what I’m wearing, you’re picturing me naked.” That’s… well…very true. “I mean to the normal person, Josh. We’re almost there, do I look ok?”
I smile at her; she’s really quite adorable when she’s acting like a lunatic. “Are you nervous?”
“Yes, I’m nervous,” she spits out. “I’m meeting my soon to be mother-in-law when we land. Of course I’m nervous.”
Meeting? “You’ve met my mom several times.”
She sighs her ‘you’re an idiot’ sigh. “But never as her future daughter-in-law. Before, I was just her son’s assistant. She’s going to be judging me on a whole new level now. I need to look good. I need to be charming.” I’m trying not to laugh here on the plane, but she’s having a nutty. “And don’t laugh at me. You’re going to be going through the same thing next month.”
“No, that’s going to be totally different. I’ve got it much worse.” I’m considering faking an illness to get out of it.
“How so?”
“How so?” I screech. How can she ask that? “For one thing, I’ve got two parents to meet; you’ve only got one. And I’ve never met your father before, which means I’ve got to make up for all the bad things he’s heard about me, including sending you to Gaza. Not to mention the fact that you’re the baby and I’m stealing your innocence. I’m also meeting a sister and two brothers, one of which is a high school football coach and could quite possibly kick my ass. Not to mention the grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. And every single one of them is a republican.”
“Yeah, well… there are a ton of us, you’ll blend in. I’m going into a mother/son relationship. She’s used to it being just the two of you. She’s used to having all your attention, being the woman in your life. Plus, I’m too young and I’m not Jewish and I’m stealing her baby.” The more she talks, the louder she gets. People are starting to stare.
“Stealing her baby? I’m 42 years old.”
“Exactly! For the last 42 years you’ve been single. Suddenly I waltz in and steal you away.”
“You suddenly walked in seven years ago,” I remind her.
“That’s hardly the point. I can’t even cook!”
What? “What?”
“I can’t cook. I mean, yeah, I can make grilled chicken on the George Foreman, but that hardly counts. Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving and the only help I’m going to be is with the cranberry sauce!”
“She makes that by scratch,” I say quietly.
“See!” she yells, and I can see tears starting to pool in her eyes. I need to be careful here or I’m going to have a crying Donna on the airplane. This, of course, is a problem, because the only way I know how to fix crying Donna is to make love to her, and that probably isn’t the best idea right here.
“Donna,” I say in a soothing voice, taking her hand in mine. I’m learning stuff like this from Dr. Phil. “My mother loves you, you know that.”
She looks down at our intertwined fingers. “Yeah, she loves me as your loyal assistant. But now I’ve got a new role.”
“A role she’s been trying to get me to give you since she met you at that fundraiser in Hartford a week after you dumped Freeride and came back to the campaign.”
She looks up at me and tilts her head to the side. “Really?” she whispers.
I smile at her. “I thought you knew that.” She shakes her head. “Every phone call for seven years, Donna. Every visit home, every time a friend of hers has a grandchild, do you know what I hear?”
“What?” she asks, sniffling.
I put on my best old woman voice. “When are you going to marry that amazing girl and give me some grandchildren, Joshua? Do you think she’ll wait on you forever? Do you think making yourself miserable dating these shrews you date is going to make you forget how you feel about her? She’s the one Joshua, you only get one and she’s it.”
Now she smiles. “Really?”
I pick up our joined hands and kiss her knuckles. “Really,” I whisper, leaning over and kissing her neck, just below her ear.
She sighs as I kiss her, but then she abruptly pulls away. “No marks Joshua, I’m about to meet my future mother-in-law.” This time when she says it, however, she doesn’t sound nervous at all.
**********
“What way do I turn?” he asks, looking over my shoulder at the map.
“Left. She’s lived here for three and a half years, Josh. Shouldn’t you know your way by now?”
“It’s too hot to concentrate,” he mumbles. Of course, what he really means is ‘this isn’t home, why should I know my way?’
“It’s not hot at 9:45 at night, it’s…warm.”
This catches his attention. “Warm enough for the nightgown I love?” he asks with his eyebrows raised. He was very upset when I announced last weekend that it was too cold for said nightgown and put it away for the winter.
I smile. “Josh, you don’t want me to wear that this weekend. Not when we can’t…. you know.”
“When we can’t what?” he asks.
I look over at him like he’s nuts. Which, let’s face it, he probably is. “When we can’t…explore.”
“What?” he screeches.
“Josh, we’re going to be at your mom’s house. We can’t have sex.”
“What?”
“How many times are you going to ask me that?”
“Are you saying we’re not going to…explore…for the next four days?” he almost yells.
“Yes.”
“Oh, we’re exploring. We can’t go four days without exploring, Donna. We barely make it through an eight-hour workday without attacking each other by the fax machine.”
“First, that’s really you more than me, and second, don’t you mean a fifteen hour workday?”
He looks at me accusingly. “You’re the one who suggests all the lunchtime trips to the car!”
“That’s just making out!”
“We’re exploring, Donna.” He pulls to a stop at the next light and looks over at me seriously. “We can’t go four days, Donna. I’ll die.”
“You’ll die, I guess,” I say sarcastically. It’s really just for appearances. I’ve already looked up hotels within five miles of her condo in case we need to book a room for a few hours while we’re in town. I want him as much as he wants me. It’s really quite sick.
“Four days, Donna!” he says as if that is all the answer required.
I can’t help smiling. “Josh, we explored this morning. You can’t count today. Plus, we can explore all night long when we get home on Saturday, so it’s really just tomorrow and Friday. That’s only two days.”
He’s looking at me like I’ve asked him to vote republican. “Have we ever gone two days without sex?”
“Josh, I’ve only been semi-full capacity for five weeks.”
“You know what I mean! Since you’ve been semi-full capacity, have we gone two days without…exploring?
“Umm…”
“The answer you’re looking for there is no. We’ve never even gone one day, Donna, much less two! There’s no way we can go two days. I can’t make it. I’m a man.”
“We can’t have sex in your mom’s house, Josh.”
The light turns green and he starts driving again. “Yes we can, we just have to be quiet.”
“Well, that’s been a problem in the past.” Josh and I tend to be somewhat vocal when we’re making love.
“How do you know, we’ve never tried to be quiet before.”
“Yes we have. I seem to recall less than two weeks ago when you were…visiting…my hotel room in New Hampshire. My room, which was next door to Toby’s. We finally had to do it in the shower.”
“Had to?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Because I think we’ve got certain skills in the shower.”
There’s no denying that. “Josh, focus.”
“Ok, so we have sex in the shower all weekend. I can think of worse things.”
He’s got a very good point there. “Does the room we’re going to use have it’s own bathroom?”
He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Yes.”
“Hmm…”
“Told you we were exploring,” he says triumphantly.
*********
Finally, a knock at the door. It’s about damn time. Their plane landed an hour and half ago, and it’s a twenty minute drive here from the airport. What took them so long? Did they stop on the way and have sex? Don’t look at me like that, I might be 68 years old, but I was madly in love once, still am, really.
I look out the peephole and Donna is wiping what I can only assume is lipstick from Josh’s mouth. He’s trying to pull her in for what I’m guessing is another kiss, but she keeps batting his hands away and smiling at him. This is pretty entertaining; I’m sure Mable Wilson from across the street is thoroughly enjoying it.
My wonderful, brilliant son is here. And I’m not just saying that because he’s my son. I’m well aware of the fact that he’s… how should I phrase this….less than perfect. I can see how he might be perceived as… demanding…opinionated…stubborn…egotistical…
Anyway, Donna sees through all that. She sees that he’s loyal, she knows how to deal with his ego, and she can match him intellectually, which isn’t easy. Plus, she just so obviously adores him. It’s easy to see even through a peephole. And that’s all a mother really wants; for her son to find someone who absolutely loves him for everything that he is, good and bad. Well, and grandchildren, of course. So now if I can just get him to propose without waiting another seven years, I’ll have it made. Maybe I’ll put that bug in his ear while he’s here this weekend. What? I’m his mother; it’s my job.
I watch them for a few more seconds and finally open the door. “Let go of her Joshua, she’s on vacation,” I say with a smile.
He lets go of her and leans in to give me a hug. “Hi, Mom.”
“You’ve got lipstick on your face,” I say just to embarrass him. When he pulls back, he just smiles and wipes his face with his hands, far too in love to be embarrassed.
“Donna, it’s wonderful to see you!” I step back and Josh takes Donna’s hand and comes inside.
“It’s good to see you too, Victoria,” she says and we hug. I look over and see Josh standing back smiling at the two of us. Happy isn’t a word I would’ve ever used to describe him before. Euphoric, excited, joyous even, but never just out and out happy. Not until right now have I ever just seen the look of pure happiness and contentment on his face. I knew she was the one.
I pull back from Donna and take her hands in mine. “So, you and I…” I trail off when I feel something on her hand. I look down and see a ring on her left ring finger. And not just a ring; a gorgeous ring that my son so obviously did not pick out on his own. I stare at it for several seconds and neither Josh nor Donna says anything. When I finally look back up, I can’t help stop the tears that are starting to fall down my face, and I can’t really speak or stop smiling, so I just pull her in and give her another hug. I’m hugging my future daughter-in-law. How I’ve missed having a daughter.
**********
Well, we were here all of two minutes when both my mom and my fiancé were crying and hugging. It was enough to make a grown man a bit emotional. Shut-up.
Anyway, we’re here, we’ve visited, we’ve…explored in the shower three times (last night, this morning, this afternoon), we’ve eaten large quantities of food, we’ve been to the condo association Thanksgiving get-together, we’ve met the neighbors (all old), we’ve showed off the ring, we’ve defended the President, we’ve been asked when we’re having children 42 times (7 or 8 of those times was from my mom), we’ve eaten mince meat pie (yuck) with Mable Wilson (whom my mom doesn’t even like), we’ve discussed what Mom and Donna call my refrigerator disorder, we’ve driven to the beach, we’ve made-out on the beach (didn’t take Mom to the beach), we’ve discussed wedding plans, we’ve (or rather they’ve) tried to get me to spill the beans about the honeymoon, and we’ve gone through embarrassing photo albums of my youth (which may or may not have included a picture of me with a mullet). What haven’t we done, you ask? We haven’t watched football. Apparently watching football on Thanksgiving is not what we do.
I’ve been told that tomorrow I’m allowed to either A: sit in the condo all day, eat leftovers, watch whatever sports I choose, and check in at work, or B: get up at 4:30 in the morning to be at the mall when it opens at 6:00 for the day after Thanksgiving sales. Guess which one I’ve picked.
Right now, I’m doing my very favorite thing in the world. Well, definitely one of my top five favorite things in the world. I’m kissing Donna’s breasts. My goal, of course, is to get a third trip to the shower today. Well, fourth, but one of those times I was actually showering.
“Josh, honey, as much as I’m….” she pauses and arches up into my mouth, “enjoying this, we can’t take….that feels nice….”
I don’t even pretend not to be amused. “I’m sorry, what can’t we do?” I ask with a chuckle as I switch breasts.
She takes her fingers from my hair and starts massaging my shoulders, digging into them with her fingernails. “Josh…” That came out as a moan.
“Let’s go take a shower, Donna,” I growl out.
“We’ve already taken three today,” she breathes out as she pulls my face up and pretty much devours my mouth with hers.
When we break, I go back to her breasts as I start snaking my hand into her pajama bottoms. When I reach where I’m going, I’m smart enough to kiss her again in attempts to swallow any moans she makes. “She’s not counting,” I whisper as I start trailing kisses down her stomach. When I reach her waist, I pull her pajama bottoms off and start kissing her hipbone.
She arches up into me and slams her head back into the pillow. “Shower, Josh. Let’s go…take a shower.”
And she thought we weren’t going to have sex this weekend.
**********
“So, hygiene must be very important to the two of you,” she says casually as we walk through Linens and Things.
I immediately start choking. ‘She’s not counting’ my ass. There’s a rather long, awkward pause, and finally I say, “Well, he’s…umm…he’s…” Very smooth Donna.
“Messy?” she asks with laughter in her voice.
“Yes, very messy.” I’m going to be ill.
“Noah was very…messy too. That’s why whenever we visited his parents or mine we both showered a lot. I didn’t want anyone to know how…messy he was.” Please God, let me die right here.
“It must run in the family,” I say weakly in a voice that sounds kind of like I’m trying to swallow vomit, which isn’t far from the truth.
“So,” she says, hopefully changing the subject. “How’s it going living with Josh? It must be…challenging.” Thank you Lord.
“Actually, it’s going extremely well. Our biggest obstacle so far is the refrigerator.”
“What’d you have to throw away this time?”
I laugh. “Not much. I’m learning not to keep it too stocked. Milk products had to go. A few apples, some lunchmeat, and the butter.”
“The butter?”
I roll my eyes. “I know.”
“What about the horrible comforter on his bed?” she asks, walking into the bedding area.
“That was gone a week after we started dating. No way I was gonna sleep…” The vomit feeling is back.
“I don’t blame you. I don’t think he picked that out. His taste is bad, but not that bad. Now tell me, are you worried in the slightest about the wedding he and Sam have planned?”
“I was at first, naturally. But the Chesapeake Bay Beach Club is really very nice. And he didn’t plan any of the details; he just booked the club so we could get the date. Anniversaries are very important to him.”
“He gets that from his father. That and the messiness, apparently.” She adds that last part while raising her eyebrows.
“Right, the messiness,” I say, hanging my head a little. She knows. There’s no use hiding it. Josh and I are going at it like rabbits in her condo and she knows it, and obviously doesn’t care. Be an adult, Donna. It’s just the mother of the man you have sex with an average of…I don’t know, 15 times a week. Why be embarrassed? It’s perfectly normal to discuss sex with your mother-in-law. Her son is absolutely amazing in bed, she’d probably be happy to hear it.
“Are you letting him help with the arrangements?” This woman can switch topics nearly as well as I can. I’m impressed.
“We met with the coordinator there last Saturday and picked out the food, music, and flowers, he mostly just smiled and nodded. We also booked a string quartet the White House has used several times. He and Toby wanted to help CJ and me pick out my dress, but I…as Josh likes to say…nipped it.”
“They really thought you’d let them help?”
“Something about a team. I don’t pretend to understand everything about your son. I understand him more than most, but I’m no mind reader.”
“There are some places even the bravest explorer should never go, Donna.”
**********
I took Josh and Donna to my favorite Cuban restaurant in town tonight. When we got back, I told Josh that he smelled like the food at the restaurant and should go shower. Donna’s face turned the shade of a tomato. It was fun.
It was an hour or so after that when I made up an excuse and went to bed so they could in fact…shower. I was planning on staying up and visiting with them, since they’re leaving tomorrow, but then I remember what it was like when Noah and I got together. We couldn’t get enough of each other. And I looked over at Josh, who kept putting his hands on Donna’s thigh and in her hair, kissing her neck and shoulder, whispering things to her… It was sweet. I think he might have some sort of obsession with her hair, but I’m not gonna dwell on it.
So here I am, at 3:15 in the morning, drinking tea in the dark in my kitchen, thinking about how three days with my son and…daughter…just isn’t enough. “Hey, Mom,” Josh says quietly, walking into the kitchen in boxers and a t-shirt.
“What’re you doing up?”
He shrugs. “How ‘bout you?”
“Just thinking about… I don’t know. I don’t like it when you leave.”
He kisses my cheek and pours himself some tea. “You’ll see us in three months for the wedding.” He takes a drink. “This is really bad coffee.”
I shake my head and smile. “It’s tea.”
“Well, that explains it,” he says, taking another drink.
“Donna’s parent’s are coming for the wedding?” I ask.
“Yeah, her sister and two brothers and their wives too. Other than that, it’s just Toby, CJ, Sam, Leo, Margaret, Carol, Charlie and the Bartlet’s. We want it small.”
“Who’s going to run the White House?”
“Debbie,” he says smiling.
We sit quietly for a few minutes before either of us says anything else. “You know, your father would love her.”
He looks up at me from his cup. “Yeah… I wonder if…”
“Yes, she’d love her too.”
“You think so?”
“Have you ever met anyone who didn’t?”
He smiles. “No, I guess not.”
“Then I think it’s safe to assume she would have adored the woman who made her brother so happy.”
“I am happy,” he whispers with a silly grin on his face.
When he says that, I can’t help reaching out and putting my palm on his cheek. “I know you are baby,” I say before turning around to leave. I get clear to the doorway before I just can’t help myself. “I could tell by all the times you had sex in the shower this weekend.”