The Executive Office

Recount Part 2

Congressman Matt Santos was sleeping when the results came in. His wife, Helen, was nestled beside him, snoring gently. They had flown back home to Houston to be with their kids on election night. Other than than traveling to Washington for campaign business, he had stayed home and waited. Matt's Motorola rang on the nightstand, waking him immediately.

He rolled over to his side and grabbed the cell phone, answering without looking at the ID. He didn't need to; there were only two people who would be calling. "So what's the verdict?"

"Congressman," he did not like the note in Lou Thornton's voice, and he found out why right away. "Josh just petitioned for another recount."

That made him sit bolt upright. "What?!" His bark made Helen wake up with a curse.

"The mandatory one ended about an hour ago; it flipped your 500-vote lead and gave just under a hundred to Vinick."

Matt glanced at Helen, who was looking at him expectantly. "Another recount," he mouthed. "What?" she said incredulously.

"Damn it," he sighed. "I told him not to do this." 

Josh had always been a workaholic, but ever since Leo's funeral, he had gone completely manic. He made countless phone calls to different contributors, consulted with lawyers, and all but pushed his agenda onto the campaign. Not even Donna could calm him down. 

"I'm flying over there now," Matt said. "Tell Josh he can explain this himself when I get there." He ended the call and started getting up to get ready, only to be pulled back down by his wife.

"Do you mind telling me what's going on?" Helen asked mildly.

"Not much to say, really. I'm going to ask my campaign manager why he went behind my back and then I'm going to kill him."

"Or...." She reached out and stroked his stubble which went a long way toward soothing his exasperation. "We can find another way to deal with this so that both of you can live with it."

Matt shook his head. "Helen, I've already been worried about Josh for a while but now, I'm seriously wondering if I'll have to fire him just to get him to back down."

"Do you remember when we used to visit my Uncle Zachary?" 

He snorted in spite of himself. Zachary Thatchman had been one mean son of a bitch who made John Cleese look like a puppy. Scathing, waspish, and moody, that man was never happier than when he was riding someone else.

"I remember your relief when we got the news about the aneurysm," Matt said wryly.

She ignored his comment. "That man made it his mission to put you through hell and back again. It was like an episode of Survivor on steroids. He would push you, and push you, and push you until I was ready to push him off a cliff for you."

"It wasn't until years after the funeral that I understood why he did it. He didn't hate you or wanted to prove that you weren't a better soldier than he was. For some reason, that sour old man actually liked you and, in his own cold, harsh way, he was trying to help you."

That made Matt nearly sputter with indignation. That vindictive bastard had made him do everything from filling a leaking tub to taking a wilderness hike filled with scorpion nests and those hadn't even been the 'fun' ones. " Do I have to remind you about the ball turret?"

"Okay, yes, he did want to take you down a notch but he did still try to support you."

"I don't see what this has to do with Josh going rogue and dragging me into a round of pure political bullcrap," he said irritably.