* * *
As Janet worked in the kitchen that evening preparing their supper, she shook her head and smiled to herself, thinking back on her short conversation with Richard that Wednesday afternoon. They usually checked with each other to find out what, if anything, had come up to modify the family's routine for that particular evening. She smiled because for the first time in weeks, they were all four actually going to be home, and they might really sit down to a meal together. No baseball practice, no cheerleading assignment, no late taping session at the station, no crisis in the law practice.
With a hint of sadness, Janet reflected through her smile that a supper together had become the exception. Whatever else had been wrong in her own home growing up, at least they had almost always dined together as a family. Oh, well; thank God for small blessings.
Susan and Tommy had been home from school for some time, doing their homework. Now Susan was on the phone, as usual, and Tommy was two blocks away at Brent's house. Janet was not only cooking supper, but also preparing a casserole to give to Nancy Bryant to deliver to Betty McEver tomorrow. She wanted to talk to Betty and ask about the children, but she decided that she should wait a day or two.
Tommy came home as it started to get dark, and Richard was virtually on time, right behind him. A few minutes later, Richard sat at the breakfast room table, looking at the paper with one eye and the evening news with the other. When Susan and Tommy came in, Richard asked them about their days at school and listened to brief reports. He then reminded Janet that he had to leave late the next day for the law conference in Atlanta, returning home Sunday afternoon.
Susan used that opening to ask if Amy could spend the weekend with them, since her neighbor didn't want to go to her family's new mountain house again. And Tommy asked if he could spend Saturday night at Brent's, after their baseball game. Janet agreed to both requests, and as she dished up supper, there followed a general discussion about their weekend schedules, all of which Richard would miss.
They ate dinner together, interrupted only once by the telephone. And during the rest of the evening, each Sullivan pursued his or her own activity, from homework to the newspaper to the television. Richard reviewed another draft of the McKinney contract and some other work he had brought home. Janet read through the material on “911 Live” which Tom Spence had given her. She was appalled by some parts of it, and she made some notes to discuss with Tom in the morning.
It was a thoroughly normal evening, partly because they were all a little exhausted from the hectic night before. Later, as they sat together in the den, watching a television show, Susan asked her father what would happen to the McEver children. He replied that it depended a lot on how much life insurance McEver had. Between programs, Tommy asked both parents whether they thought McEver's soul had gone to heaven. Richard and Janet looked at each other briefly. Richard responded that he believed everyone probably went to heaven: how could a just God do anything else? Tommy thought about it for a moment and then nodded.
Nepravel, who had been listening from the ceiling, smiled hideously and gave a thumbs up to Richard; he couldn't have said it any better himself! If only Richard could have seen McEver as he had last seen McEver! Sometimes this was almost too easy, with the fathers teaching the children the same lies it had taken the demons years and years to build up. Could Richard still repeat the lie which Confusion had fed him way back in college? “Yes,” chortled Nepravel, as Richard looked right at Tommy and told him with the voice of parental authority that the Bible never really mentioned hell anyway, so he didn't have to worry about it. Fantastic! Confusion was passing from generation to generation, and all Nepravel had to do was watch. Weren't these voices just incredible, when nothing interfered with them?
Later that night, after the kids had gone to bed, Janet reflected in the bath on how wonderfully sane and normal their evening together had been. Not a single argument. They'd actually talked about issues of life and death. The dark note was that Richard was going away for the weekend, but even he had seemed a little sad about it, like he wanted to stay home. Why couldn't they have more times like this?
After her bath, she selected a particularly revealing nightgown, which she had not worn in a long time, and she put on Richard's favorite perfume. He was already in bed, reading. She turned off all but one light in their bathroom—she knew that he liked a little light—and sat down on the bed next to him.
When he looked up, she smiled and said, “I really enjoyed having you home with us tonight. It was great just talking together. I wish we had evenings like this more often.”
Janet meant her words as a genuine compliment, trying to break the ice between them with words and with looks, reaching out to her husband as best she knew how. Trying desperately to use the good fortune of a pleasant evening together to bridge the widening gulf. But Richard saw her, and instead thought of Kristen, fifteen years and two children younger. He heard Janet's words, but a voice told him that it was an attempt to make him feel guilty for not being home more often. And the involuntary guilt over his affair with Kristen, whom he would see again in just twelve hours, touched off that volatile mixture. His words exploded out too quickly, almost as if they were spoken by someone else in advance: “Janet, you look so cheap in that get-up. I'm glad we were all home, too. But I'm tired tonight, and I have to travel tomorrow. Let's just go to bed. OK?”
His words stung her, and he knew it. He wanted to take them back, and he almost reached for her. But a voice told him that after years of ignoring his needs, trying to be a big executive, she had some nerve suddenly getting dolled up, rolling her eyes at him, and expecting him to respond like Pavlov's dog! Well, he wouldn't do it. He had pride too. What about all the times he had almost begged her, only to be told that she was too tired? Let's see how she likes that line for once! So the emotion that began as remorse only a second before was whipped instead into a self-righteous put-down. Score one for him.
She recoiled, his reaction so contrary to her own feelings of the past hour that she was genuinely speechless. “But, Richard …” she finally started, not knowing how to finish. Uncertain of her feelings. Uncertain of his motives. Uncertain of her femininity. Not trusting her senses with him. Feeling terrible, as if the wind had been kicked out of her. For an instant she almost started crying; she almost reached for him. But the look in his eyes raised her own defenses. Pride started to take over. She would show him! But then she simply couldn't do it. It had all just been too much, all these many months. She caved in. She did start to cry. She did reach for him. She lay down on his shoulder and sobbed, saying nothing, not knowing what to say.
And, as he lay there, his book on the bed, Janet's tears wetting his shoulder, Richard's heart melted. A new image came to his mind, of Janet in their college days. Of their great times together, before law firms and television stations. Of Susan and Tommy being born. Of tricycles and swing sets. Of a simpler and happier life. His hand came up to stroke her head, and he whispered two very difficult words: “I'm sorry.” And he meant it.
He turned her to him and cupped her face in his hands. “I'm sorry. We've both just been too busy for each other. I did have a great evening tonight with you.” Smiling, he added, “And you don't look cheap…You look great.”
Janet smiled, tears still all over her face. “I'm sorry, too. Let's try harder, both of us, to be together. OK?” “Yes,” he replied, feeling better than he had for months. “We will.”
They went on to make love together that night, for the first time in a very long time. The release, particularly for Janet, was overwhelming. She cried and laughed and hugged him to her.
Once the lights were completely out and he lay with his arms around her, Richard wondered to himself what on earth he was going to do with Janet and Kristen.
At midnight's unholy meeting above the north side of the city, the news from eight different demons was about the upcoming prayer breakfast. Sectorchief Balzor fumed. “It's one thing when one or two of
those pastors preach their cursed Word about Jesus in churches; we can contain that. But when they come outside where we're in control, it really makes me angry. Does any one of you know yet what they're really up to?”
“They've invited in Benjamin Fuller. He can be very dangerous,” snarled Tymor, one of several menacing demons who everyone knew was vying for Balzor's position, should he ever make a slip. “In Pittsburgh last year a revival started in the financial sector and in two big downtown churches when he spoke. We're still having big problems up there. We even lost some of our strongest voices when several young ministers became Christians.”
“That won't happen here!” railed Balzor. “What else?”
Abalat, another pretender to Balzor's power, said, “It's those three ministers—Stephen Edwards, Jim Burnett, and Michael Andrews—who are behind this. There hasn't been a move toward the businessmen in this city in years, and they're pushing it.”
“But we've got them separated in different denominations! Two are white, and one is black. How did those three get together?” Balzor looked around accusingly, as his assembled cadre of people haters and family destroyers writhed in anticipated pain. But no one spoke. Any one of them would have sold his fellow demon back to hell to escape that fate himself, but no one answered.
After a long pause, Balzor continued, “This is potentially very dangerous. If business leaders find out the Truth and then repeat it, others will listen to them. And you all know what usually happens to families when the husband goes over. We almost always then lose the wife, the children, friends, and others. It's a mess! We've got to go to work to make this prayer breakfast ineffective. How are they preparing for it?”
“That,” answered Tymor, rising to his full height in front of the ranks, “is the good news so far. This is their first stab at a prayer breakfast. They don't really know what they're doing. Thankfully there has been almost no prayer support, just a few general statements, but nothing by name. Their follow-up committee hasn't even met yet; I've kept the chairman out of town on business all week. I recommend that we get Discouragement and Fear in here immediately to work on the hosts. Then even if Fuller does come and speak well, we can contain their paltry results, and they'll never try another one.” He ended his recommendation with a nod toward Balzor, who had been listening along with the others.
“Yes, yes, right away. Get them here tonight so we can plan,” Balzor ordered Tymor, reclaiming his position of authority by turning the suggestion into a command. “And,” he said, looking out at all of his demons, “put the usual measures into effect at once: illness, telephone confusion, concern about the costs, missed meetings, schedule conflicts. And, of course, the voices. You've got to redouble your attention and be sure that all the voices on your streets and in your businesses are operating at full volume. We don't know who might be invited to this thing, or when. We've got to be sure they don't go; but if they go, we've got to be sure they don't hear! We've perhaps grown a little too soft in the past few years with all the help from the media; but this is a real test, and I want every one of you on the alert. We will not lose souls that belong to us to an old attorney and three amateur preachers! I want a report from each one of you, every night, until this is over. Now go!”
Nepravel and Zloy again flew back to their neighborhoods. Tonight it was Nepravel's turn to worry. “Just as I was leaving Devon Drive a little while ago to come up to our meeting, I flew through the Sullivans’ house for a final evening check. I couldn't believe it! I came in on the tail end of a reconciliation! They both told each other that they were sorry. They held each other. She cried. He felt bad about his affair with that real estate agent. It was sickening. Balzor has big things planned for them, and now this! I'm glad our exalted leader was so upset about the prayer breakfast that he didn't even ask for our usual reports. I've got to do something, and quickly.”
“Hold on,” breathed Zloy as they neared the familiar rooftops of the commercial district between their two neighborhoods. “Was He involved?”
“I don't think so, from what I could see in those few minutes. This wasn't about faith; they just looked at each other for the first time in many months and realized how, one inch at a time, they had moved miles apart. They longed to get back to where they were years ago, and they both said they would try. But neither of them talked about Him,” Nepravel replied, with a derisive slight to the final word.
“Then don't worry. If they're trying to fight you themselves, relying on their own power and ability, you know they'll fail. How can they battle against the voices and the lies and the pride that you've sown in them over the years? They may reconcile for a while, but on their own they're too far gone to ever get back. You've done a good job—I've watched. If I can just confuse that Bobbie Meredith into stopping her prayers for that family, there will be no interference at all with your work.”
Once Nepravel considered Zloy's words and agreed with them, he smiled again his malicious grin. “Thanks. I hope so. We've got a lot invested in them. He's well respected in the legal and business communities. When we bring him down, it will discourage hundreds of others. And speaking of sowing and reaping,” Nepravel added, “would you like to hear about McEver last night? He was truly one of the most surprised I've ever seen! I think it must be this new generation. They really believe what we've been telling them, because they hear it all day, every day, from every imaginable source. Like Balzor was saying, maybe it is getting too easy for us, with the media and the movies and the records, but I sure do like it! And are they ever surprised when they find out that all of that has been lies!
“And then when He tells them from the judgment seat that the Bible really is Truth, and asks them why they haven't believed it, it's almost too funny to watch. They feel so betrayed. McEver pleaded for another chance in his next life! Can you believe that? More and more they tell Him that same New Age stuff we've been feeding them about reincarnation. Since I hate Him so much, after what He did to us, I do like to watch Him when they try that. I'm almost feeling sorry for Him; how must it feel to lose so many of your own creation? They're all so stupid! You're right, Zloy. Thanks. The Sullivans haven't got a chance on their own.”
* * *
THURSDAY, APRIL 20 – The next morning Janet awakened with more energy than she had felt in months. Before Richard awoke, as she packed his necessities in a small suitcase for his trip to Atlanta, she was actually excited about the challenges on her “do list” for the day, and she was already thinking about Richard's return on Sunday. One new item for her executive goal list was going to be “Spend more time with Richard.” She felt she had a small opening to save their marriage, and now she had to make a conscious effort to work on it.
Richard also awoke that morning feeling better than he had in a long time. He lay in bed and listened to Janet humming softly as she moved around their room, back and forth to his suitcase, and he thought back happily to how this habit had begun. When they had only been married about a month, he was called to an interview with a big law firm, and he had to be gone over the weekend. Janet, who had grown up with only one sister and no brothers, was intrigued by all things male; and she had asked him to show her exactly what he would take for his trip. So they had packed his bag together, laughing as he pulled out and explained each item. Unknown to Richard, she had slipped love notes into the folds of his underwear and the pockets of his trousers; he found them during that weekend, reminding him of her. There was even a photo of herself, which he happened to pull out of his pocket in the middle of his interview. They had laughed about that for months. The love notes had long since stopped, but Janet still always packed his bag for him.
He rolled over and smiled. She pecked him on the cheek and smiled back. “I bet you need some coffee, after I kept you up all night. How ya feeling, ‘boy attorney’?” It was a name she had not called him in years.
“Fine. Just fine. You need to take it easy on this old man, though,” he added.
“No way,” she
smiled over her shoulder as she headed to the kitchen for two cups of coffee.
But Richard wasn't really fine, and he knew it. He lay quietly in bed, thinking. What had happened last night? Was Janet a new woman; was he a new man? Was she really going to work less, to spend more time with him and the kids? Was he? Was last evening the dying gasp of an impossibly wrecked marriage, or a new beginning? And, more to the immediate point, what was he going to do about Kristen, whom he was supposed to see in a few hours?
The next hour went according to the Sullivan household routine, and soon they were all headed for their destinations. As he said goodbye, suitcase in hand, Janet gave him a warm hug, looked up into his eyes, and said, “I really do love you, Richard. Last night was wonderful. Come home as early as you can, and let's do it again!” He smiled a genuine smile, hugged her back, and promised that he would.
As he drove to work that morning, the competing voices in Richard's mind threatened to cause him sensory overload—the debate was almost audible. Should he stop seeing Kristen? Was Janet really going to be different? Was he going to be different? Shouldn't he wait and see? Should he call Kristen and make an excuse for today? What if Janet found out about them? What if he lost both of them? What about the kids? Could he really try hard with Janet, while still seeing Kristen? Was that fair to Janet? If Janet hadn't really changed, what if he dumped Kristen too quickly? Then where would he be? The voices kept up at this pace all the way downtown, through the parking garage, and even into the elevator, as he rode up to the thirty-seventh floor.
On the Edge Page 5
