The emotion of the afternoon proved to be a bit much for Emily and she left the cemetery to go back to the house and take a nap before supper. Knowing that her husband was going to need some time to process his mother's revelations and not wanting her mother in law to be alone, Abbey headed back with her to the house.

With his mother and his wife gone Jed quietly left the ghosts of his past behind him in the cemetery and made his way slowly back toward the barn. Max ignored darting rabbits and squirrels to walk quietly at his side as if sensing his master's need for contemplation. As he approached the pasture where Liz and Annie's horses were grazing together he leaned against the fence holding a hand out to rub Lancelot's muzzle. The black gelding whickered softly and nuzzled against Jed's chest.

"Sorry, Lance. I didn't bring anything for you to munch on today." He gave the horse an affectionate scratch on the forelock then continued on his way to the barn. Inside, he walked along the stalls that housed the farm's dairy cows, brought in for the evening for milking.

"Hello, Mr. President."

"Hi, Joe," Jed nodded to the farm manager. "Mind if I help out here?"

"They're your cows, sir" Joe grinned. He'd been running the Bartlet dairy farm ever since young Jed had inherited it.

Jed nodded and pulled out a short three-legged stool from the tack room. The Bartlet farm had long ago switched to mechanical milking but sometimes when Jed needed to think he liked to come down and milk a cow the way his grandfather had taught him to when he was just a young boy. He took his place next to the cow and placed his cheek against the warm body as he began the familiar squeeze and pull of milking. He felt himself relaxing as he heard the satisfying sound of liquid squirting into the tin pail.

As he leaned there leisurely milking the cow he thought back to all that his mother had just told him. He had never before realized that there was another dimension to his childhood. With the egocentricity of a child, he had seen the reactions of his mother and of his father as revolving around him. He had never looked at the world through his mother's eyes, had never seen her as anything but the cool, proper, unemotional woman who had raised him. Even though he'd seen pictures of her when she was younger he had never really thought of her as a young girl, a girl who had come to New Hampshire with her heart on her sleeve ready for love and adventure. A girl who had fallen in love with the idea of a man and only after marrying him found out that he was not at all what she'd thought that he was.

He had never thought of his father in any other term except fear. Not just fear from physical abuse, but fear from all the taunts and putdowns of what he now knew was verbal abuse and most of all fear of displeasure. When he thought of John Bartlet, it was the formal, cold, austere headmaster that everyone feared, not a young boy who desperately wanted and fought for his own father's approval, a young boy who had never measured up to his brothers. He had never thought of the pain and jealousy that had to twist inside his father when he watched his own father, the man who's approval he'd never had, dote on his grandson with unabashed delight.

Jed knew deep down that his father's reactions had not been right, that it was never okay to hurt or abuse anyone, let alone the ones that you love. But, for the first time he began to believe that maybe it had nothing to do with him. That maybe he hadn't been such a failure as a son and that maybe the failure lay in his father's own heart. Because, deep down inside Jed knew that if his father was still alive and worshipped Nicholas the way he never had Jed he would have rejoiced with gladness and thanks. The love and pride that he had in his offspring would certainly have overcome any residual sadness that might have resulted from such a relationship. But, it was not to be. His father was dead, Nicholas would never know his grandfather and maybe that would be a blessing, for he was determined that his own son would only know love and pride and acceptance. There was nothing he could do to "right" his past, but he could make sure that he was the best father possible to his own son and finally break the Bartlet curse between father and son.

With his thoughts in order and ready to share his revelations with his wife, Jed gave a few squirts of milk to the barn cats, patted the cow on her hindquarters and prepared to head back to the house.

****

The house was quiet upon Jed's return. Mrs. Johansson was cooking away in the kitchen but she was all alone. He found Abbey in their bedroom sitting on the bed in a pair of his silk boxers and a tank top. Her damp hair was piled up on her head, her knees drawn to her chest and cotton balls were stuffed between her toes. Her glasses were perched on the end of her nose, her brow furrowed as she concentrated on spreading a deep mauve polish on her toes. Tender love for her coursed through his veins. There were so many different facets to his wife. She could be sophisticated and formidable, a sexy siren or an enchanting seductress and he loved all of those sides to her but it was this sweet adorable side to her that made his heart flip flop with a soft aching love. Suddenly the need to talk to her was overcome by another more pressing need.

"Damn you and your sexy underwear."

Abbey looked up from her pedicure her bottom lip still held between her teeth and a wary look in her eyes. "Jed, these are not sexy. They're boxer shorts and they're yours."

"You said they were sexy."

"On you they're sexy, on me they're baggy shorts."

"Anything looks sexy on you, my hot little tamale." He sat beside her on the bed his hand running up the smooth expanse of her leg.

"Jed, don't," she warned. "My toes are wet."

"Fuck your toes."

"Now that might be a little too kinky even for me," she wrinkled her nose at him. It was that cute little wrinkle that did him in. In an instant he had Abbey underneath him, his large warm body pressing her into the bed. He smelled of sunshine and horses and hay and of the first time they made love and Abbey could no more resist him now than she had that first time in the hayloft.

"Still worried about your toes?" He asked as he slipped one of his hands inside the baggy boxers to grasp her soft rear and pull her up against him while the other snuck through the convenient slit in the front to delve into the sweet springy curls causing her breath to catch in her throat.

"Uh…what…" Abbey's mind was already clouded by Jed's massaging fingertips.

"That's exactly what I thought…"

****

Abbey eyed the lumpy mess on her toes with dismay. "Look what you did to me. My toes are a mess."

"They are, aren't they?" Jed's grin was hardly apologetic.

"Not funny. I wanted to get my pedicure done before the twins wake up."

"Give me your foot."

"What?"

"Give me your foot. I messed up your pedicure so I'll fix it."

"Jed," her eyes narrowed. "If this is some way to get in another quickie before supper…"

"You wound me to think that I would have ulterior motives. I simply want to help my beautiful, generous wife." He gathered up the polish remover and the bottle of polish.

"You are SO full of blarney, Jed." She tossed the bag of cotton balls at him then leaned back against the pillows pulling the sheet over her nude form. No need to tempt him, she wanted him to do a good job. "Now, get to work."

"Awful bossy, aren't you?"

"You like me bossy."

"Surprisingly, I do." He massaged her soft foot gently and began wiping the smudged lumpy polish from her toes with an acetone soaked cotton ball. Abbey relaxed back against the pillows enjoying her husband's ministrations. She re-opened her eyes when he began to polish her toes to make sure he was doing it properly and was immediately hit by how erotic the sight was. Her foot was pressed up against her husband's bare belly for he wore only the boxers he had taken off her own body just moments before. There was an incredible earthy sensuality about watching him wear them while they were still warm from her own body. His rumpled hair fell across his brow and he bit his bottom lip in concentration as he spread the polish methodically on her toenail. Abbey couldn't help herself. Earlier she might have scolded him about keeping his mind on the task at hand but now she herself was starting to feel a little frisky. When Jed took her right foot in hand instead of placing it against his belly, Abbey 'inadvertently' pressed it gently against his crotch. Jed's eyes flew to hers at the touch and noticed the sly wicked little smile curving across her lips. Abbey the seductress was back.

"Abigail, if you leave that foot there for much longer your toes are going to be one helluva mess again," he warned her.

"It's fall. Nobody's going to see my toes." She flexed those toes against the bulge that was growing harder under her foot.

"Really…" Jed placed the polish back on the table and lifted her foot, pressing his lips to the delicate arch. Abbey sighed and stretched out, arching her back with delight as his lips moved to nibble on her slender ankle.

Both started at the sound of the doorknob wiggling, Abbey yanking the sheet high up over her chest and Jed grabbing his bathrobe. They needn't have worried, the door held. Jed had remembered to lock it. However, the two youngsters outside the door were a little put off to find their parents door locked.

"Mama…Mama…"

"Just a minute sweeties, daddy will let you in…" Abbey called out as she slipped into the bathrobe Jed handed her.

"Daaaaady…" Nicholas began pounding the door with his fist… "Daaaddy… Hungwy!"

"Okay, okay, chill out guys." Jed opened the door and the two scampered in with reproachful eyes. They did NOT like being locked out of mommy and daddy's room. Aislinn stopped to watch Abbey put the finishing touches on her last toe.

"Pwity toes…Me too…me too…" she held her little foot out to Abbey wanting her mother to paint her toenails.

"I need to go down and see if Mrs. Johansson needs a hand with dinner. We'll bring the polish with us and daddy can do your nails while we wait. He's quite a pro."

Aislinn beamed an excited smile at Jed and brought him the bottle of polish. "Daddy, pwity toes?"

"Yes, sunshine," he tousled her hair with sweet affection. "Daddy will give you pretty toes."

By the time Emily entered the kitchen Jed was busy painting Aislinn's miniscule finger and toenails, the little girl giggling heartily when her father blew on her toes to dry the polish before moving on to the next one. Nicholas was sitting next to his mother at the kitchen table munching on one of the mandarin orange slices he had picked out of the oriental salad that Abbey was preparing. If she thought it odd that her son and daughter in law were having supper in their bathrobes, for once, she didn't comment on it. Instead she moved to the tow headed little boy and stood by the chair that he sat in biting her tongue to keep from snapping at him not to put his fingers in the salad.

"Hello Nicholas."

Nicholas turned and regarded his grandmother with wide wary blue eyes. His grandmother was not like his mother; she didn't give him kisses and hugs or make raspberries against his belly. She didn't tease him like his mother did or make funny voices when she read him stories or walk around the house singing like his mother did. She didn't laugh and call him "sticky Nicky" like his mother did when he placed sticky, dirty hands on her face, she got angry. She didn't smile like his mother or play with him like his mother. And, when his grandmother held him it was not tightly against her breasts as if he was the most special little boy in the world the way that his mother did, it was stiffly as if she were uncomfortable doing so and even a 22 month old child could sense that.

"Nicholas, say hello to your grandmother," Abbey prodded him.

"Hi, gamma." He said softly, almost bashfully.

Emily stood still for a moment behind her grandson's chair, clearly hesitant and uncomfortable about something. And then, to both Jed and Abbey's surprise, she bent down and kissed the top of Nicky's soft silky head.

"I love you, Nicholas Bartlet." She said softly. "I love you very, very, much."

Tears stung Jed's eyes as they met his mother's across the table. Tears of acceptance and tears of forgiveness, and yes, tears for the little boy who had sat at this very table and never been told those three words by the woman who had just uttered them for his own son.

Emily moved to Aislinn who was surveying her new pretty mauve nails. "And I love you, Aislinn." Aislinn accepted her grandmother's kiss then turned to her to look up at her with Abbey's lovely hazel eyes.

"You wuv, daddy?" She asked, patting Jed's cheeks with her hands.

Emily paused with her hand on Jed's shoulder a smile touching her lips as she took in the smudged nail polish on his cheek and his fingers.

"Yes, Aislinn. I love your daddy very much."

TBC...