On the Edge

by Parker Hudson

  Susan, who had left the porch, sat in a big armchair in her room and reread her two letters. Both Bobbie and Amy recounted their activities during the first week of Susan's vacation. But then, almost as if they had planned it, both letters urged her to go slow with the birth control pills. Amy's letter was the more remarkable. She wrote that she had been back to Bobbie's church, and that she was rethinking many things, including her “physical relationship” with Jay. Amy admonished her not to begin taking the pill and not to become physically involved with Drew.

  The second time through these letters made Susan even more angry than the first time. “Wonderful advice from girls who hardly even know Drew, and certainly don't know him the way I do!” a voice told her, as she thought of Drew and imagined how far away he was. “Bobbie has her God to keep her happy—at least she sure likes to tell us so—and Amy hops into bed with a college guy she hardly knows—probably two—has an abortion, and then tries to tell me to go slow!”

  Almost before she could think it, a voice reminded her that she and Drew had known each other for a year and had been dating for several months. They had expressed their love for each other. Drew was a great guy, and she was not going to get pregnant. So why not express her love in the way God—or Nature, or someone—had provided? And, the voice told her, she certainly didn't need Amy and Bobbie to be her new moral policewomen!

  * * *

  Later, Richard lay in bed next to Janet as she slept, listening to her breathing and to the total silence of the Vermont night. As often happened to him in settings like this, he wondered what it would be like to give up his law practice in the big city and to move to a smaller city or town. Not Vermont, probably, but one of the towns within a couple of hours of their city. What sort of a life would they have? Could he earn a living? Would there still be a “rat race”? Or would he come home at five in the afternoon and play tennis with Susan or baseball with Tommy? How would the kids grow up differently? Would it be better…or boring?

  As he reflected on the possibilities, a voice reminded him that Susan and Tommy would be gone to college in a few years. So a home in a small town would be just as empty as a home in the city. Whatever the kids were going to be was pretty much set. There was no reason to think about moving when they had so many friends and opportunities where they were. As he rose up on one elbow and looked across the dark but peaceful countryside outside the second floor window, he felt a distant sadness, as if the choices he made twenty years ago were now unfolding before his eyes, and he was powerless to stop them. But maybe if they moved, there could be a different ending…

  SATURDAY, AUGUST 26 – On Saturday morning they packed the minivan for the trip home, and everyone said a tearful goodbye. “Please fly down for Christmas,” Janet told her mother.

  “Sure wish you could stay another day and go to church with us tomorrow,” Janet's father told Richard, as he did every year.

  “It's just too far to drive in one day.” Richard smiled and thanked him, as he also did every year. Susan and her parents were surprised to see Caroline Batten there so early in the morning to say goodbye to Tommy. This was a new and unexpected development, but the three of them had the good taste not to press Tommy about her on their trip home.

  SUNDAY, AUGUST 27 – Late Sunday afternoon the Sullivans arrived home. Amy and her parents heard them drive in next door and came out to help them unpack. Tommy was soon off for Brent's house, and the two girls went up to Susan's room to look at her photographs from the vacation. Nancy talked with Janet while she unloaded the laundry.

  Tom went into his garage and returned. “Richard, I found these tools and your jumper cables and bolt cutter up at our mountain house. Remember when I borrowed all of these during our construction?”

  “Yea, sure. Here, just put them in the trunk of my car for now,” Richard said, tossing Tom his keys, as he gathered a load from the minivan. “I'll sort through all of them later, and at least I'll have the cables if I need them.”

  Upstairs, Amy and Susan sat on her bed while Susan called Drew to let him know that they had arrived home safely. “Yes, sure, I don't see why not. Give me a little while to get cleaned up. Come over about 6:30. I love you.” And Susan hung up the phone.

  “Drew asked me out to dinner,” Susan smiled at Amy. “How are you and Jay?”

  “He's fine. We went to a movie last night. But I've put my foot down about going slow for now, and he doesn't like it.”

  “Why did you do that? I read your letter, but I don't really understand.”

  “Well, I've gone to Bobbie's church four Sundays in a row now, counting this morning. Every time I've attended both the youth group and the service, like you did. I don't know, it's like something Glenn said last week. Like I never realized I was thirsty, but suddenly I'm drinking water, and I like it. I don't think I've really changed, maybe, but they're challenging me to think about a lot of stuff, and until I get it figured out, I told Jay I don't want to complicate things even more with sex.”

  “Well I'm glad for you. And you've obviously had more experiences than I have. But Drew and I love each other, and I'm seventeen, and I'm ready to share that love in any way he wants,” Susan said, feeling more certain of herself as she heard her own words. She began to unbutton her shirt, to take a shower.

  “Mom,” she called downstairs, “Drew and I are going out tonight, so don't count me in for dinner.”

  “Susan,” Amy said, getting up to leave, “I know how stupid this sounds, coming from me, after what I've done, and how you've helped me in the past few months. But having sex is powerful. Just like our parents and teachers have told us, it changes things. Besides babies and diseases, which I know you don't expect,” Amy raised her hand as Susan turned to say something, “there's just the change in the relationship itself. I can't really explain it, but it happens. Once you've done it, you can't go back. I do know that. I just wish…”

  “Look, thanks a lot,” Susan interrupted. “You're right. We've been through quite a bit. And in some ways I guess I'm jealous of your experiences. People are different, and Drew is not Billy or Jay. We love each other. I think our relationship will only get better. Now, I have to get ready. See you tomorrow.”

  Three hours later, parked in the cul-de-sac, after a casual supper at Austin's, where they had caught up on the last two weeks’ news, Drew and Susan were now experiencing the pent-up emotion caused by their absence.

  Susan pulled back from a long kiss and smiled up at Drew. “I've been taking the birth control pills, just like I promised. I love you so much.”

  “I love you too,” Drew whispered back in her ear, hugging her.

  “But I can't imagine making love in a car, Drew. What are we going to do?”

  Drew thought for a moment. “I think I can rent a motel room over on the interstate, where no one will know us or ask questions. I can use a fictitious name, pay cash, and then come to get you. No one will ever know.”

  “A motel room? Do you think you can?” She smiled, imagining how nice that would be. “But we couldn't spend the whole night.”

  “I know. I'll pay up front in cash, and then we'll just leave in time to get home. It'll work. When…?” He smiled down at her.

  “Well, since school starts on Thursday, and I have to work tomorrow night, what about Tuesday?”

  “Sounds great to me.” Drew returned her smile. “I'll drive over and get the room and then pick you up about 6:30. If I have a problem, I'll call.”

  Susan snuggled in close to him. “I can't wait. I love you so much. Drew, do you think we can apply to the same colleges this fall? Wouldn't it be great if we could spend four years together at school?”

  That thought sounded like a prison term to Drew. But focusing more on Tuesday than on next fall, he hugged her tightly and said, “Yes, that would be fantastic.”

  “Oh, and be sure to bring a condom,” she added. “I've been taking these pills, but it's only been two weeks, and I want to be real sure I don't get pregna
nt!”

  12

  MONDAY, AUGUST 28 – “Bill,” Tom Spence said as he stood in front of the station manager's desk, “I understand that ‘911 Live’ is starting in three weeks, on September 15, two weeks before the rest of the new season.”

  “That's right. They think it's such a strong show that Network is going to use it as the lead-in to introduce the other new shows. And they want to have as many weeks as possible with sunlight, before daylight savings time ends, after which everything will have to be on floodlights.”

  “Have you considered our request to cancel the show or to move it to later at night?”

  “Yes, of course. I've considered it. But I'm not going to do either one.”

  “Well, I'm sorry for all of us, then, but more importantly I'm sorry for our country. I expect you'll have several resignations on your desk today, effective next Tuesday, the day after Labor Day.”

  “I'm sorry, too, Tom. You, Connie, and the rest are good people. I respect your opinions, but I obviously don't agree with them.”

  “Since I'm resigning Bill, I want you to know that this show is the work of the devil. It's that simple. He's using you and Network to even further demean individuals, families, and all the values on which this nation was built. It's so obvious, if you just look back over the last twenty years.”

  Smiling, Bill responded, “And since you're resigning, Tom, I can finally tell you you're crazy. There's no such thing as the devil, and if there were, he'd have a lot more important things to do than to worry about this one small television station. Please do say at your press conference, if you have one, that the devil is behind this show. I can't wait to hear the reaction!”

  As Tom closed the door to Bill Shaw's office, Kromor and his two lieutenants, floating over Bill's desk, gave each other high fives. “The work of the devil! Can you imagine!” Kromor laughed. “I'm sure glad Bill set him straight.” And they all laughed again.

  “Richard, the news this morning is that a German firm has bought Princeton Textiles, the number three producer, and is planning to do heavy investments in robotics,” Bruce said over the phone late that morning, with obvious concern in his voice. “This could mean another beating for Fairchild's stock price. What exactly happens if the price does fall below twenty, with the closing so close?”

  “It means they can call the closing off, and the deal dies, if the price falls below twenty for a week prior to the scheduled closing. I'm sure they're watching the price, too, Bruce. It gives them the opportunity to cancel the deal or at least to renegotiate it with us. I just can't believe this is happening,” Richard said, anger in his voice.

  “Hey, I hate it, too, Richard. It's not my fault, you know. I have as much or more to lose as you do. What should we do?”

  “You and Patrick Tomlinson struck the original deal, Bruce. This is not a legal question—it's business. Why don't you call Patrick, and you and David get on a plane and go see him? Then I'll do whatever I can to help on the legal end.”

  “OK. You're right. I'll call him and see what his schedule looks like. Thanks, Richard. I guess you should keep working on the documents, and we'll try to settle the business side. I'll keep you informed about what's happening,” and he hung up.

  Richard felt his $66,000 fee slipping away, and he hated it. He slammed his fist on the desk, got up, and paced around the office, swearing.

  Just before noon Tom Spence stopped by Janet's office. “I realize you've just returned from vacation, but Connie and I want you to know that we're turning in our resignations this afternoon, effective next Tuesday. We hate to leave, but we don't believe we have any other choice.”

  Janet had hoped that some other solution would be found, and she regretted watching this good group of old friends breaking up. “Do you have any other jobs lined up?” she asked, genuinely concerned.

  “Sam Tarrant has found a small station out on the west coast that needs a senior technician. The rest of us will start looking in earnest after our press conference.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Tuesday at noon at the Palace Hotel. That will be about ten days before ‘911 Live’ is scheduled to start—right after Labor Day, so we hope there will be some impact.”

  “Well, Tom, I have to thank you indirectly for one of the most exciting and disturbing evenings of my life.” Her smile turned serious. “But I guess if you are going to blast Network and the station, then we're on opposite sides now.”

  “Are we Janet?”

  “Neither one of us likes that show, but I've chosen to remain inside the system, and you've decided that you have to leave. So I imagine we may butt heads on this one. It's a shame, but it may happen.”

  “Be careful, Janet. You can start out from what seems like a reasonable position, and pretty soon they'll own your soul, if you're not careful.”

  “Thanks, Tom. I'm a big girl, and I'll watch out. Don't worry about me. I can handle it. Here, let me give you a hug, for old times’ sake. You be careful, too. You've got a family and no job, come Tuesday.”

  Janet stood up and walked around her desk. They hugged in the middle of her office. “I really respect all seven of you, Tom. Good luck.”

  He had not been gone more than five minutes when the intercom buzzed from Bill Shaw's office, and he asked Janet to come up.

  “It's great to have you back, Janet,” Bill said, as she took the seat he offered in his office. “I hope you had a wonderful vacation.” She nodded in the affirmative.

  “Good, then. Tom Spence came by this morning,” Bill continued, “to tell me that seven of them are going to resign, effective next Tuesday.”

  “Yes, he just left my office with the same news.”

  “Did he give you any details about their plans?”

  “Only that they're planning a press conference for noon that day at the Palace Hotel.”

  “Great. Thorn Glass from Network and I have been talking, and we've worked out the beginning of a plan. It may involve you, so I'd like your input,”

  “Shoot,” said Janet, not realizing the irony in her response.

  TUESDAY, AUGUST 29 – At Tuesday's “lunch,” Kristen, who had not seen Richard for almost a week, was again persistent about their future. She had thought more, during his absence in Vermont, about taking matters into her own hands. But she wanted to hear from him first. As she left their bed to fetch some bread and fruit, she turned, and, pulling her hair back with both hands while silhouetted in the bedroom doorway, said, “Richard, the summer is almost over. Your kids will be starting back to school in a matter of days. When are you ever going to tell Janet about us, so that we can get on with our life together?”

  “Kristen, it's so difficult. I just don't know what to do.”

  “Well,” she asked, as she stretched her body with her hands now over her head, “is it Janet, or is it the kids, who keep you there?”

  “Oh, it's the kids,” he lied once again, not wanting to tell her the truth, that he and Janet were slowly but steadily improving their relationship.

  “So if Janet were gone, but you could still have a good relationship with the children, then that would be OK?” she called from the kitchen.

  “Yes, I guess so. But I don't see how that's possible,” he said. And I don't really want it, he added silently to himself.

  “Well, my Texas grandfather had a saying,” she said, returning and sitting down across from him on the bed, the bowl of fruit in her lap. “’Be careful what you ask for, ‘cause you might get it.” She smiled and offered him a bunch of grapes. He took them and smiled back, not really understanding, but always delighted to talk with her about almost anything, when he had so many freckles in so many great places to look at.

  That afternoon, Bruce McKinney called Richard again. “Patrick Tomlinson has a tough schedule for the next two weeks, but luckily he's coming here at the end of next week, on Friday, to spend the weekend. He was amenable to us getting together on Friday night for supper; and he will even have
his attorney with him, on some other business. So David and I would like for you to join us, and the five of us will have a nice dinner. Then maybe we'll relax, do something like the Platinum Club, let our hair down a bit, to strengthen the relationship. Can you make it that night?”

  “Let's see. Yes, looks fine. We're having a quiet, stay-at-home Labor Day, after the recent trip to Vermont. Next Friday looks fine. And I haven't been to the Platinum Club in a year. Are you sure it's Tomlinson's cup of tea?”

  “Absolutely. He even asked me about it. Said he'd heard of it, but had never been there. And, by the way, Richard, he was very laid back on the telephone. Maybe he's watching the stock and preparing to nail us. But he sounded happy to meet and to have dinner with us, so maybe it will all work out.”

  “I hope so. The documents are almost ready. We've penciled in the closing date for Friday, September 15.”

  “We'll all keep our fingers crossed. Goodbye Richard.”

  Tuesday night Susan was ready for her date with Drew thirty minutes early. She had been imagining this night for a month, and during her bath a voice had reminded her of how lucky she was to be loved by one of the best “catches” in her class. She knew that many other girls were envious of her good fortune. The plan was that he would drive over and rent a room, then pick her up. She told her mother they were going out for supper and would then go to a movie or play miniature golf or “something.” As she was brushing her hair in her bathroom, checking her looks for the twentieth time, she smiled to herself at how easy it had become to lie to her parents, in just the few short months since that night with Amy. Well, not lie, actually, Nepravel reminded her in her own voice. It's just better that they not know everything. And she smiled again.