Chapter 29 - Mr. Chasez Goes To Washington

Friday, April 28th, 2006.
Sam tapped lightly on the partition to Ellie's cubicle. "Hey."
Ellie swung her chair around to face him. "Yes..?"
"Have you got plans for Saturday night?"
"Why?"
"Our usual correspondent for the annual White House Correspondents’ Dinner is currently having emergency intestinal surgery."
A soft "Oh dear" sounded from the cubicle next to Ellie's.
"Yes, Amber, I'm afraid Victor's bowel obstruction has finally met its match."
"Get to the point, Sam," Ellie groaned.
Sam tapped his fingers along the rim of the partition. "Since you've inquired at writing freelance after your maternity leave, we were wondering if you had any interest covering the dinner for Haughton’s?"
"You know that's tomorrow night, right?" Ellie pointed out.
"We were hoping you and your plus one would be willing to fly out tonight, all expenses paid."
"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm just about four months pregnant. None of my own dresses fit. How do you expect me to find a maternity formal gown in less than 48 hours whilst packing for a weekend away and organising a tux for my quote, unquote plus one?"
"Lucky for you, Haughton’s Motherhood is doing a formal wear spread for next month’s issue. I suggest you stop by the twelfth floor to pick up a sample gown in your size to borrow for the weekend."
"I just..." Ellie sighed. "Fine. But I want the afternoon off."
"Great. Here's your press passes. See you on Monday." Sam plopped two laminated tags and lanyards onto her desk, walking away quickly before she could change her mind.
"Great..."

JC was sitting on the couch eating a bowl of cornflakes as Ellie entered the apartment. She huffed as she threw a garment bag over the dining table.
"You're home early," JC said through a mouth of cereal.
"Sam's given me the rest of the day off."
"What's in the bag?"
Ellie sighed. "If you must know, a floor-length black gown with easy nursing access."
"Why?"
"For breastfeeding..." She made the motion of revealing her breast. "Its bodice is made out of stretchy material so you can pop your boob out."
"Um...OK. Why do you need a gown that does that?"
"I've been asked to cover the White House Correspondents’ Dinner."
"When?"
"Tomorrow night."
JC shrugged. "It's only a half an hour flight. We can see Catherine."
"Uh...OK?"
"It's only 11:30 in the morning now. We can easily fly out tonight, or if need be, tomorrow morning. We'll be home on Sunday."
She scoffed.
"Please, I haven't seen Kit since New Year’s," he explained. "I want to tell her about the baby in person."
"I just..." She gave off an exhausted sigh. "I don't even know why I'm trying to fight it."
"Great." He stood up, kissed her forehead and put his cereal bowl into the sink. "I'll start calling around for the hotel and the flights; you go upstairs and start packing."
She dragged her feet, moaning as she made her way to the staircase. She let off an annoyed grunt as she hesitantly made her way upstairs.

Saturday, April 29th, 2006.
JC met Catherine outside of the hotel just before noon, walking with her to the hotel's restaurant for a late brunch.
"Is Ellie not joining us?" Catherine asked as she sat down.
"No, she is. She's just taking her sweet time." JC sat across from her. "I wouldn't make a big fuss out of it, but she's wearing hair rollers."
"OK." Catherine nodded. "How are you two enjoying marriage?"
JC paused, pursing his lips in thought. "It's alright, I guess."
"Not what you expected it to be?"
"I don't really know what we expected, or at least what I expected.” He ran his finger along the folded edge of his napkin. “Why did you and Simon get married?”
“The 1989 tax season was a little too much for Simon. It was a little needlessly complicated for him, trying to organise two incomes going into the same household or something. He got this bright idea that he could streamline the whole process if we were married. You would have ask him if you want a full explanation. He then made the proposal that if we could find a way to keep everything under $3000, he wouldn't mind a September wedding.”
"And you were OK with that?"
"Honestly, that's exactly how Simon is. He's practical. He's not over the top romantic, but he shows his love in his own way. He was never going to do some huge romantic proposal, but he was always going to do whatever he could to make sure I was taken care of. By that point, he had become my home and there was nothing I wanted more than to be his wife.”

A waiter came by and took their orders, returning with a pot of tea. JC fixed his eyes onto the silver tea service tray as Catherine poured him and herself a cup each.
“I’m not completely sure why Ellie and I got married,” he stated pointedly.
“Are you starting to regret it?”
“I don’t know. Even if I did, I can’t say I am. It’s incredibly unfair for her…” He trailed off. “Sometimes I feel like we only got married to show everyone that we could get married; other times I feel like I married her because I genuinely love her. It's like I want her to be there every morning when I wake up and I want her to be there when I come home every night, and if I have to do boring adult things like buying toilet cleaner and sheets, there's no one else I would rather do that with than Ellie, but I also feel I could have that without marrying her first." He wiped a droplet of tea off the rim of his cup.
"Do you want to stay married to her?" Catherine said, taking a sip of tea.
"Yes. I mean, I'm in love with her. I'm just worried we might have made the wrong decision."
"Did the two of you ever stop to think that maybe you're feeling the way you're feeling not because you did the wrong thing but because you're letting too many people tell you you've done the wrong thing?"
JC shrugged. “Maybe."
She delicately placed her cup into its saucer. “Look, I know this might sound childish, but—“

Catherine was cut off as Ellie made her way into the restaurant. She sat down at the table in a huff, a confused mountain of hair and hot rollers barely contained in a rainbow-coloured scarf on top of her head. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, attempting to calm herself. She turned to Catherine.
“How good are you at doing hair?”

“I'm OK with it?” Catherine turned to JC. “Is there anything you two feel the need to tell me?”

“About what?”

“You know…” Catherine tilted her head towards Ellie, clicking her tongue.

“I think she's figured out I'm pregnant.”

JC gasped in sarcasm. “No!”

Ellie widened her eyes. “I thought you knew.”

He shook his head. “I had no idea.”

“I told you,” Ellie expressed in faux urgency.

“I don't think…” JC hoisted his elbow onto to table, pursing his lips to exaggerate thought. “Wait, I think you actually did.”

Ellie made a wide grin. “Are you OK with it?” she asked Catherine.

“I'm happy if you are.”

“Cool.” Ellie smoothed her napkin onto her lap.

After their meal, Catherine started tackling the task of Ellie’s hair. Ellie sat at the desk in her and JC’s room in front of a mirror as Catherine started to undo each of the rollers and brush out each curl.
“Does your hair always frustrate you this much?”
“Sometimes. I know I shouldn’t complain since I have naturally pin straight hair, but it holds less volume than a broken speaker.”
Catherine made a small amused smile. “I would kill to have naturally straight hair.” She gestured up at her natural curls. “You have no idea how hard it is to manage these. Have you considered a style that’s more manageable than having it so long? When did you last get it cut?”
“Just before Claire got married in September. I’ve had a trim since then, but Josh likes my hair long.”
“Scott liked my hair long as well…” Catherine whispered.
“I thought your husband’s name was Simon.”
“It is. Scott was Josh’s father.”
“Was he like Josh?”
“Some things. He was a musician, very tall, very handsome. We met through the school choir. He was one of the tenors. Exact same wild streak, same sensitivity. Everyone says how much he looks like me, but every time I see him, I’m taken back by how naturally he seems to be taking after his father.”

Silence filled the room as Catherine gently brushed a section of Ellie’s hair.
“Did you love him?” Ellie asked, barely in a whisper.
“Of course I did. He was my first love. My father was controlling and abusive. Scott showed me I was worthy of love just being who I was.”
“Josh said that his father only told you he loved you so you would put out.”
“I only told Josh about his father once a very long time ago. I can see how he might of twisted the story to vilify his father. But I gave myself to him by choice.”
“Do you hate him…for what he did?”
“I used to. But he was young; we both were. Much too young to become parents. We both made mistakes we can’t take back.”

Catherine placed the hairbrush down, sectioning off Ellie’s hair as she changed the subject. “Are you OK with me French braiding it then pinning it into a chignon?”
Ellie smiled. “Sure, it always ends up like that for formal occasions anyway.”
“Do you think the hotel will mind if I put a few of the floral arrangements lilies in it. The white and pink of the flowers will be so striking against the black of the gown.”r32;

“You would fit in so well in my mother’s family. My grandmother practically screamed when she saw that I didn’t wear flowers in my hair for my ceremony.”
“Yeah, but nothing’s in season in December.”
“I told her exactly that. ‘No one ever died over a silk flower’ she responded.”
Catherine chuckled. “She sounds exactly like my mother. She probably makes her own silk flowers, too.”
“You know she does. I told you she made my mother’s bouquet when my parents got married.”

Ellie watched Catherine through the mirror. “Is there any advice you would recommend, for the baby?”
“Only a more manageable haircut. Other than that, machine washable fabrics are going to be your best friend if you have boys.”
“Did you want a daughter?”
“Honestly, I had so many younger sisters, I was ecstatic all of my kids turned out sons. Nice change of scenery.”
“Yeah.”
Catherine nodded. “Yeah.”

JC and Ellie arrived back from the dinner at around midnight. They giggled as he pressed her against an accent table by the door, kissing her as he removed his jacket.
"I would be careful," she whispered in a flirtatious tone. "I've been a little naughty tonight."
"You had A glass of wine with dinner."
"Yeah, but I haven't had a lick of the drink for nearly two months now. I'm practically wasted."

She walked into the centre of the hotel room, leaning against the back of an armchair to take her shoes off. "You know"—she started to pick the lilies out of her hair—"I absolutely love lilies. Pity they're toxic to cats. Can you help me unpin my hair?"
He walked up behind her, softly kissing her neck before her took down her hair, running his fingers through the waves created by the braids. "You look so beautiful tonight," he mumbled as he pushed her hair over her shoulder, continuing to kissed her neck and shoulders. "You can still smell the flowers in your hair," he moaned, taking in her smell.

She turned around, kissing him as she started to remove the cuff links from his shirt, slipping his undone bow tie from around his neck. She placed them onto a side table and then started to undo each button on his shirt, groaning as he kissed her. She helped him slide off his shirt, grasping the skin of his shoulders as he dropped it to the ground, deeply kissing her. She bit her lip as he pulled his undershirt up over his head. She placed her fingertips between his pecs, kissing lightly where she thought his heart would be, smiling as his chest contracted with a sharp intake of breath.

He stopped her as she reached to undo his belt. "No, not yet."
"You're such a fucking tease."
"Don't you want to have a bath first?" He traced the deep v-neck of her dress. "How does this easy access thing work? I've honestly been curious about it all night."
She tugged at the material. "It's stretchy," she explained, pulling back some of the fabric where the two sides of the neckline met. "It stretchy enough to expose the whole breast."
"I wonder..." He slid both his hands into the dress, completely exposing the lilac bra she was wearing underneath and her heaving bosom bursting out of it. He leaned down to kiss her breasts. "Fuck damn, your tits look amazing in this."
She chuckled. She slipped the dress off, stepping out of it as she walked over to the bathroom door, looking over her shoulder. "I thought you wanted a bath?"
"Um...yeah."

He reached the doorway as she bent over to turn the tap on. "I did not anticipate how incredibly sexy you would be pregnant."
She made an awkward smile. "Yeah, ‘cause I'm cute and horny second trimester pregnant. Just wait until I'm fat, angry and tired third trimester pregnant. I'll ask you again in September if I'm still giving you a raging stiffy then."
"But you're still you. You're still the girl I fell in love with. You're still the girl I love to fuck." He kissed her.
"You're just saying that."
"I'm not. I'll still fuck you if you want me to." He undid his belt, taking her hands to undo his fly.
She gasped as she saw the black tuff of pubic hair atop the base of his already engorged penis. "I am going to lose my mind if you show me your cock right now."
He turned around. "I guess I'll just have to stay dressed then."

He helped her take off her underwear, first her bra, then its matching lace thong. He gave her ass a quick but gentle slap before she stepped into the old-fashioned claw bathtub. She kneeled with her back facing him as he pulled the knob to reroute the water from the faucet to the shower head. He soaked her hair, pulling her close to him as he kissed her through the water running over her face. She spit some water out, smiling up at him.
"You like that?"
"Yeah." She nodded, placing her hand on his neck as he kissed her again. She groaned as he pushed her hair over her shoulder to run the water on her back. "That feels so good."
"Do you know what would feel better?"

She stopped him as he started to move the shower head in front of her. She stood up, getting out of the tub and putting on one of the hotel's bathrobes. "I need to go check something." She quickly left the room.
He sighed as he turned the water off, taking his pants off before he sat in the tub, debating if he should finish himself off quickly.
She returned after a few minutes. "I just googled it. It's safe to use a shower head to masturbate whilst pregnant." She smiled and gave two thumbs up.

She got back into the tub, facing away from him again as she turned the water back on and placed the shower head between her legs, moaning as the stream massaged her clit.
He leaned forward, running the head of his penis against her pussy. "I can't wait much longer." He entered her, tearing the shower head away from her as he started to rub her clit. She whimpered with every thrust, leaning her body against the wall of the tub. "Fuck me," she begged. "No one fucks me as good as you do." She dug her fingers into his arm she came.
He paused as her body tensed, turning her face to kiss her. He held her close to him as he resumed, his pace much slower than before but his thrusts deeper. After a series of grunts, he finished, just holding her as he caught his breath.

He turned the water off, getting out and picking the bathrobe off the floor. He wrapped the bathrobe around her and picked her up, carefully carrying her to the bed. He placed her down carefully, getting under the covers with her and tangling himself into the face-to-face position they now cuddled in.
"Best night ever," she whispered as she drifted off to sleep.

Monday, May 1st, 2006.
Ellie shook the rain out of her hair as she entered the apartment. She hung her jacket up in the closet and entered the living room.
“Do you like my haircut?” She leaned to kiss JC on the couch.
“Yeah, it’s cute.”
“Cool.” She snuggled into his arms. “I was so thankful I was able to get an appointment during my lunch hour today. I was lucky, wasn't I?”
“Yeah.” He ran his fingers through her now shoulder-length hair. “I’m glad you like it.”
“It’s nice to have a change once in awhile. I’ve meaning to ask you, when I returned the dress this morning, Sarah, the editor of the magazine, asked if it was OK if they used a picture of us from Saturday in June’s issue as kind of a example of how to wear the gown. She kind of says that they do it whenever one of the items they feature is worn by a celebrity. I said I was OK with it, but I was thinking that we might need to clear it with your team, ‘cause they're going to have to mention that we’re expecting in the copy accompanying the photo. It is a maternity dress after all.”
“As long as it doesn't lead to anything too intrusive, I guess I’m OK with it.”
She got up and took a folder from her briefcase. “That’s the photo they wanted to use. They really wanted a good shot of the flowers your mother put into my hair.” She showed him the photo taken of them at the White House, him looking straight at the camera, her turned to the side, her hand placed onto her small bump and the flowers in full view. “She said we could keep that if we wanted.”
“I guess you finally got your formal portrait.”
“I guess so.” She lightly kissed his cheek.

Monday, May 15th, 2006.
JC squinted as he tried to smile as a behind-the-scenes photographer took a photo of him and the stunt man that would be used as his body double in the music video for ‘Until Yesterday.’ He turned away from the sun as the body double, Greg, congratulated him.
“You must be so happy about the baby. How far is your wife along?”
“Um, sixteen weeks, I think.”
Greg patted him on the back. “You’ll know what you're having soon enough.” Greg put on the pair of safety goggles around his neck, adjusting them into place. “Let’s go beat the shit out of a car.”

Over the next few hours or so, they watched as Greg completely destroyed a hollowed out Mustang, only stopping as JC was brought in for close up at various points of the demolition. Greg wiped the sweat off his brow as he finished for the day.
“Thanks, man.” JC shook his hand.
“No problem. Pays to be a trained panel beater. Gook luck with everything, mate.” And like that, the Australian stunt man went off into the Californian sunset to find himself a drink.

Isaac fussed over JC for the last shot of the night, smearing grease onto his forehead with a sense of urgency.
“OK.” The director approached the two of them. “We only have one shot at this. I’m really hoping you have good enough aim to get the bottle into the car in one shot.”
“I should be able to.”
“Even if it’s on fire?”
“Yeah, should be able to.”
“Great. So basically, what we’re going to do is we’ll cue up playback, then we’ll light the molotov cocktail. You’ll throw it into the car as gracefully as you can; we’ll set off the control explosives in the car, then you’ll turn to the camera, fling your goggles off, then finish the song. Then you’ll walk away into the wrecking yard as the song fades out, got that?”
“Yeah.”
“Great, great.” The director shook his hand. “RIGHT, I WANT JC PAINTED WITH FLAME RETARDANT AND THEN WE’LL GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD.”

JC exhaustedly trudged up the stairs from the garage to the foyer. “BABY, ARE YOU UPSTAIRS OR DOWN?”
“I’m in the kitchen.” Ellie appeared in the foyer. “What’s that smell?”
“I don’t know. Could be cosmetic grease, could be flame retardant, could be anything. I honestly just want to have a shower and relax.”
“Do you want me to draw you a bath?”
JC paused. “After my shower.”

Ellie walked into the bathroom as JC lowered himself into the bath water. “I found you what I personally think is your comfiest PJs, but—“
“Shhhh. Anything will be fine.”
“OK, OK.” She sat behind him on the rim of the bathtub, giving him room to lie out. She squeezed a little conditioner into her hand and started to massage his head.
“That feels good,” he whispered.
“I thought you would like it.”
“You have no idea how good it is to just be surrounded by silence.”
“How did the shoot go?” she asked, rinsing his hair.
“On a professional level, good. I’m just a little overwhelmed by a day of loud music, yelling and banging.”
She leaned down to kiss his forehead. “I bet you did a great job.”
“Yep.”
“Tell how the video’s going to go again.”
“Well, the video opens onto a suburban street. A 1972 Mustang parks into a driveway and a dark-haired woman walks into her house. The camera pans across the street and the song starts as I come into shot. The idea is that the woman and I are divorced and she got my car in the settlement. If I can’t have my car, then she basically can’t have it either,” he explained. “Anyway, I walk across the street as I start to sing the first verse. I get my keys out and steal the car back, singing the first chorus as I drive to a wrecking lot. I get out of the car and sing the second verse and chorus as I change from normal clothes into a navy blue coverall. As the second chorus finishes, I take a sledgehammer off a shelf and go out to the car. As the instrumental break plays, I beat the shit out of this car and as the middle eight plays, I drop my sledgehammer, light a molotov cocktail, fling it into the car. It explodes, then I finish the song and walk off into the night.”
“I bet you looked really cool and sexy doing all that.” She kissed his lips.
“We’ll have to wait until the video comes out.”
“I guess so.”

She took his hand, placing it underneath her shirt onto her bare skin. “Do you feel that?”
“I feel something. I don’t know what though.”
“I think I’m starting to feel her actually move in there.”
“Cool…do you really think we’re having a girl?”
“I think so. When I picture her, I only see her as a girl. Do you want a little girl?”
“I’d love a daughter.”
“I’m happy to give you a daughter.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “Have you thought of any names yet?”
“Not really.”
“Knock on wood, but I hope that’s the hardest thing we have to deal with until she’s here. What if she doesn’t like her name?”
“She can change it when she’s old enough.”
“I don’t want that.”
“Then I guess we’ll wait until she gets here to see what she looks like.” He leaned his head on her thigh. “What if it’s a boy?”
“Easy, we call him James.”
“Do you want another ‘JC?’”
“No, we’ll call him Jamie.”
“What about Jamie for a girl?” he suggested.
“No, I don’t like Jamie for a girl’s name.”
“I think it’s cute.”
“I think you're cute.” She leaned down to kiss him.
“I think you’re cute, too.”