A week after parting ways with Jed in St. Louis, Abbey had traded in the steamy heat of August in New Orleans for September in New England. There was nowhere on earth that she would rather be in September and October than in her home region. It was worth the long cold snowy winters, rainy cool mud seasons, and the all too short summers for those two extraordinarily glorious months.

As her small motorcade made it's way down the shaded streets of her hometown, Abbey noticed some of the trees were already starting to turn varying shades of red, orange and yellow, not many, but enough to let her know that fall was just around the corner. When the car pulled up in front of the big brick Federal style home that she had grown up in she saw her mother open the front door to welcome her. It never failed. She was a woman grown, had been away from home longer than she had lived there, and yet, in this house she would forever feel like a child. She wondered for a moment if that would change when her parents were gone but that painful thought was pushed aside as her mother made her way down the stairs.

"Welcome home, sweetheart." Beth O'Neill pulled her daughter into her embrace. Abbey smiled at the term. Home. Somehow, somewhere along the way this elegant comfortable house had ceased being her home. It hadn't happened quickly, that disintegration of feeling. It had taken time, eroding away slowly over the years, until one day she had stood on the porch on the white Colonial farmhouse she shared with Jed and their growing family and realized that she was truly home. Realized that the lovely, happy home that she had lived in as a child was now simply her parent's house. She would always have happy memories of her growing up years, would always feel comfortable and accepted in the warmth of that house, but it was no longer home. It hadn't been for a very long time.

The kitchen was as much the heart of this house as it was Abbey's own and that was where the two women went to visit and catch up. Abbey smiled when she noticed the heaping mound of peanut butter cookies cooling on the rack. They were her favorite.

"Were you expecting an army?" She asked, snagging one and moving to the refrigerator to pour herself a glass of milk.

"Well, you said you weren't sure if you were bringing the children or not."

"We decided they should stay in Washington with Jed. I'm going to be here, Boston and Long Island over the next week and Jed's going to be staying put so we figured it would be more stable for them to stay behind."

"And harder on you."

Abbey nibbled on her cookie and glanced up sharply. Her mother was so perceptive; the barest flicker of doubt had been picked up on immediately.

"Actually easier in a way, you know, not having to worry about them while I'm making speeches, or wondering how they'll do on the plane or if they'll get carsick, but harder emotionally. A week seems like an awfully long time to be away from them. If Jed wasn't going to be in Washington there's no way I would have left them behind. But, they have their father so they should be fine."

"Kids are much more resilient then we give them credit for."

"I just can't wait until this campaign is over. It's such a strain trying to figure out who's going to be where, who's going to have the children and when we'll be able to see each other again."

"And when exactly will that be?"

"Well, I'll be up here in the Northeast all week, then the day before I get back Jed's off to the big swing states of California, Michigan, and Illinois, so I probably won't see him again until we meet up at John Hoynes ranch in Texas for a big rodeo/fundraiser."

"I don't envy you that. I guess I should be thankful that the most your father is gone is a day on the golf course."

"Is that where he is now?"

"Of course." The two women shared a conspiratorial grin over their cookies. Ever since Abbey had been a child her mother had been griping about the time her father spent on the golf course.

"It will be nice when we're back to a more normal schedule. But, this is the price you pay, I guess. At least we have the phone. We still talk at least three times a day, although I tend to call Jed a lot more when he's back with the kids than he calls me. It's not that I don't trust him or anything, it's just…well…he's busy and I hate the idea of the kids just having the nanny taking care of them. I mean I know that's how a nanny is supposed to work, but you know I've always seen a nanny as a helper not the primary caregiver. That's why we never had one for the girls but since the twins were born and…"

"Abbey," Beth reached out a hand to cover her daughter's. "You're rambling, dear. You shouldn't feel guilty; you're a wonderful mother. I've watched you with the girls and I've watched you with the twins and those kids know that they're loved. You've always balanced things as best as you could and you always tried to put the kids first. Sometimes things aren't exactly the way that you want them to be, but that's life, honey. There are brief moments in time where things will be perfect, but those times are few and far between. You just have to deal with the cards you're dealt as best as you can."

"Why do I always feel so much better after I talk to you."

"Because I'm a wise old woman"

"Wise, yes…" Abbey stood and kissed her mother on the top of the head. "Old, never. I think I'm going to go upstairs and change out of this First Lady get up."

"You go upstairs and relax. I've planned a nice quiet supper, just you, your father and me, and then you can go off to make your speech in Gloucester to the New England Fisherman's Association. Oh, and Abbey…"

"Yes?"

"That rodeo thing sounds like fun."

"We'll see mother, we'll see."

****

After showering and changing into a pair of jeans and light sweater, Abbey made her way out onto the widow's walk that ran the entire length of the back roof of the house. She continued to comb her wet hair absently as she gazed out over the dark blue expanse of the harbor. It was late afternoon now, the sun throwing long shadows over the lawn and the pier. The harbor was bustling with activity as fishing boats chugged in returning with their catch. She thought of the days when the white sails of schooners had jockeyed for position among the hardy Boston Whalers, the days when her ancestors had sailed the seven seas.

She wondered just how many Warren women---for her mother was a Warren and this had been her family's home---- had stood in this very spot waiting day after day, week after week, month after month, for a glimpse of their men returning from the sea. How many of those men had not returned hence the name, widow's walk. Two weeks---three, once in a while, was the most she was separated from Jed and at least she knew that he was not battling a white squall around Cape Horn, or getting stuck in a hurricane off the Carolina's or even dallying with Polynesian Princesses in the south seas. She had it easy compared to those women and yet while thinking about that put her loneliness into perspective it certainly did not assuage it.

Abbey shivered as the wind picked up, carrying with it the bite of the fall and winter to come, and she wrapped her arms around her midriff. She couldn't help but wish it was her husbands warm arms that had surrounded her and that she could lean back against his frame and enjoy this moment with him. Their time in Louisiana and on the Mississippi already seemed so long ago.

****

"Well, it's nice to see that success hasn't gone to your head." Leo stood in the doorway to the Bartlet family kitchen in the Residence of the White House watching the President deftly doling out orange colored macaroni and cheese into the plastic bowls that sat on the trays of his kids high chairs. "You do know that you have a staff that can cook for you, right?"

"It's macaroni and cheese out of a box, any moron can make that." Jed wiped his hands on the apron he wore tied around his waist and began to pour milk into sippie cups. "Besides the last time I asked the White House chef to make macaroni and cheese for the kids he made some kind of gourmet thing that they wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole."

"So this is how you're spending your one night off?"

"What did you expect a trip out to the local---" he stepped forward to whisper his next words to Leo knowing that if either kid spit this word out Abbey would hang him up by his thumb nails. "----Tittie bar."

"Not exactly," Leo grinned. "I just didn't expect to come here and find you playing Susie homemaker. You know, if you lose the election I'm sure there are plenty of homes that would hire you on as a housekeeper."

"Don't laugh. I could do it. I'm a man of many hidden talents, a true Renaissance man."

"Sir, it's macaroni and cheese, not a four course French dinner."

"So it is." Jed spooned a generous portion onto a plate and sat between his children to eat. "Want to join us."

Leo grimaced. "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't really want to dine on any food that contains powdered cheese. You must have an iron stomach."

"It's not that bad, all my kids have sworn by this stuff. I made some hot dogs to go with it too if you'd like."

"Oh, well that just makes it sound better and better," Leo rolled his eyes. "Hot dogs and macaroni and cheese, gourmet eating at the White House."

"Well if your suddenly delicate palate is too good for down home cooking…"

"DOWN HOME COOKING?" Leo laughed. "You poured that directly out of a box."

"I don't see anyone complaining." Jed looked to his children who were mashing the macaroni and cut up hot dog pieces into their mouths.

"They still eat with their hands. They don't know any better."

"Well, since you aren't happy with the menu at Chez Bartlet, feel free to raid the fridge."

Leo poked his head into the refrigerator and found some Brie and a loaf of French bread. Happy with his find, he sat at the table with Jed and the kids, watching as Jed mopped up spills, wiped faces, and fed bits of hot dog to Max who waited patiently under the table.

"It's a long way from last night's 2,000 dollar a plate fundraiser, isn't it?" Leo asked.

Jed thought of the previous evening when he had been jammed into a tuxedo, eating food he could barely pronounce, and either pretending to be interested in what the people who had paid to dine with him had to say or pretending not to notice the obsequiousness of the many sycophants.

He looked down at his faded jeans and the sticky orange cheese stain on the arm of his sweatshirt where Aislinn had grabbed him to get his attention. He listened to his children babbling back and forth with each other and with him, took in their happy milky smiles and knew that Leo's point had been lost on him for he was very sure that he was in much better company tonight.

****

After what seemed like a long drive from Salem to Boston, Abbey made her way through the elegant, dignified lobby of the hotel where she would be speaking and sleeping that evening. She was at the Ritz in Boston, which was a far cry from the jazzy atmosphere of the Place D'Armes in New Orleans. Here, the music was classical and the people dressed in their neutral tones spoke quietly as if they were in a library. Even the flowers, pale roses, were arranged to perfection. Wild unrestrained color or noise was simply not acceptable at the Ritz.

Oh, how well Abbey knew that. She had grown up going to Sunday brunch at the Ritz with her grandparents at a time where she was even expected to wear gloves. She still had those little white gloves locked away in the attic somewhere. Her girls had loved to play dress up with them and she supposed Aislinn would too one day. Her mother's parents, the Warren's, or as they were known in old money circles, the Boston Warrens, had lived in a Beacon Hill townhouse not all that far from the Ritz. Her grandmother, Anne, had actually inherited the Salem house but couldn't stand the idea of living in the "country" and so it had passed on to Abbey's mother.

Later, when Abbey was a teenager, her mother had gotten them all season tickets to the Boston Ballet and she, her mother, and Jane, would meet Anne for tea at the Ritz and then go on to the ballet together. Even today Abbey could hear her grandmother's admonitions to sit up straight and keep her elbows off the table. While it frustrated her as a teenager, it was thanks to those rigid admonitions, the strictness of which would have put Emily Post to shame, that Abbey felt comfortable in pretty much any social situation she was thrown into as First Lady.

Anne Warren might have been a stickler for manners and ladylike behavior but she was not unkind, and Abbey remembered her afternoons at the Ritz with nostalgic fondness. Jane had absolutely hated every minute of forced ladylike behavior, but even then, Abbey had enjoyed dressing up, and she had been enthralled by the ballet. So, if that meant daydreaming a bit through tea, her mind on the broken wing she had tried to fix on a small sparrow, nobody but she had to know that.

Who would have ever known that the dreamy, ambitious little girl with the wavy red hair and big green eyes would actually be speaking in that very hotel to hundreds of people who had paid thousands of dollars to meet her and hear what she had to say. She wondered what Anne, a true believer in the phrase “a true lady is only in the newspaper three times in her life, her birth, her wedding, and her death” would think about the incredible amount of press coverage her granddaughter was receiving.

Later that evening, as she took the stage to speak to a standing ovation, Abbey had the feeling that her grandmother was looking down and smiling as she watch her granddaughter become the center of attention in the dining room at the Ritz.

****

With the dishes thrown into the sink and the kids washed up pretty well, Jed sank back onto the couch with a beer. Leo did the same with bottle of Abbey's Perrier. First the Brie and French bread, then the Perrier, Jed wondered if Leo knew that he was choosing Abbey's food and drink preferences.

"I'll just let them play for awhile and after I put them to bed we can play cards." Jed would have preferred a game of chess but Leo refused to play chess with him. He just didn't have the patience for the game.

Leo nodded and they both settled in to watch ESPN show highlights of the days college football games. Aislinn and Nicholas were coloring on the coffee table but Nicholas soon grew bored with that and climbed up on the couch next to Jed to sit fitting shapes into a block. Jed watched the little boy try to cram the pieces into their corresponding slots, amused by his son's tenacity. While Aislinn might have thrown the block or puzzle piece in frustration, Nicky simply bit his lip, narrowed his eyes, and continued on until he found the right piece. Evidently that kind of single mindedness was tiring because it didn't take him long to start to fall asleep against Jed's side. Not tired in the least, Aislinn was still happily coloring away, chattering a mile a minute in sometimes-decipherable English so Jed decided to let her color some more before putting them both to bed.

At precisely 7:00, in the middle of a highlight, Jed changed the channel to C-Span.

"What are you doing!" Leo asked. "Those were Michigan highlights. I wanted to see how my alma mater did."

"They're showing Abbey's speech on "Race to the White House". Besides, unless they lost, I really don't care to watch Michigan results."

Leo scowled and sat back.

Jed watched a local congressman introduce Abbey, watched her take the stage in a beige linen suit, her hair tamed back into a French twist. She was every inch the proper Bostonian lady. Yet, while she might have traded the languid sensual walk she'd had in New Orleans for the more no nonsense straight backed posture that was expected of her in Brahmin circles, there was no way that she could hide who she was behind neutral colors and sleek hair. She couldn't hide the curvy little body under the boring beige. She couldn't mute the brightness of her hair, nor the sparkle in her eyes. God, what he wouldn't give to be there with her and get under her skin, to muss up her hair and dig down under those clothes to find the incredibly un-boring underwear he knew he would find there.

As soon as Abbey began to speak Nicholas started to stir against Jed, his heavy eyelids lifting as he whimpered and turned toward the voice.

"You know your Mama's voice, don't you?" Jed murmured, stroking a soothing hand over his back.

"Mama!" Aislinn cried softly. She got to her feet and made her way to the TV staring into it plaintively. "Mama…" her lip began to quiver. "Wan my Mama."

Jed gently laid Nicky's head on a pillow then moved to pick up his daughter and carry her back to the couch as well.

"It's okay, Ash. I want your mama, too, sweetheart. I want your mama, too."

****

"Has the President seen this yet?" Josh was walking down the hall of the west wing with a magazine held high.

"What is it?" Sam asked, tilting his head to try to read the cover while Josh continued to walk down the hall toward Leo's office.

"Is he in?" Josh asked Margaret.

"Is that the magazine?"

"He's seen it?"

"CJ's in with him now."

Josh and Sam moved forward to open the door to Leo's office. CJ was leaning up against the desk reading a magazine while Leo did the same in his chair.

"You've seen it, then" Josh slapped the magazine down on the desk.

"Yeah." CJ said.

"How could you not know something like this was come out?" Josh turned accusing eyes to the Press Secretary."

"Excuse me, Josh, but they don't always run these choices by me. It's not exactly U.S. News and World Report."

"Has the President seen it yet?" Josh asked.

"Not yet." Leo slipped his glasses off and rubbed his eyes.

"So who's gonna show him," Josh lifted a brow toward his boss.

"Looks like it's going to be me," Leo sighed. He curled the magazine in his hand and rose to his feet, his eyes going to the door that separated his office from that of his boss, the President. "Wish me luck."

"'Depending on how he takes it you might just need it," Josh murmured.

TBC...