Point Counterpoint

by Fiona Wilde

  She sat back and looked at the rating sheet. "Mr. Shale, after looking at this I can't understand why you wouldn't be completely happy. You sought to pit two polar political opposites against each other and counted on the fireworks to draw viewers. You obviously succeeded. Congratulations."

  Shale blinked rapidly. He was a man used to people talking the bait. Jill could see that her refusal to do so left him stumped.

  "There was quite a bit of ugliness during the show last night that got uglier afterwards, I understand," he said. "Accusations were made. That kind of thing tears down teamwork, Jill, and teamwork is very important to ANN."

  Jill shook her head. "Respectfully, Mr. Shale, I think teamwork is important to ANN if one is considered a part of the team. But I don't think you or Mr. Chadwick or anyone else here sees me that way. You said you weren't looking for a liberal shill, but I have my doubts after what happened. In truth, I've had them all along. That's why I fed Tina those false notes. I suspected she might be sharing them with Mr. Chadwick. It turns out I was right."

  Now Chadwick spoke up. His voice was quiet, but his tone angry. "She didn't share them with me. She may have shared them with my assistant ---"

  "May have?" Jill laughed. "Good God. I don't know how you live with yourself."

  "I told you, I didn't ---" Chadwick began but Shale put up his hands. "Look. Look. I don't want a replay of the argument you two had last night."

  "That's fine," Jill said. "But I will not work with people who are actively seeking to stab me in the back. If your conservative philosophy and ideas are so strong, let them stand on their own merit. I find it a bit amusing that you even felt the need to try and sabotage my appearance on your show."

  Shale's face turned red but he said nothing.

  "I fired Tina," Jill continued. "From now on, I pick my own assistants."

  Shale sat forward and jabbed his desk with his fat forefinger. "You're sitting in my office and making demands?"

  "Only ones I have a right to make," said Jill.

  Shale sat back, breathing heavily. Chadwick said nothing, but Jill noticed he tapped his foot against the floor in a nervous, repetitive fashion. She kept her cool, allowing the tension to dissipate a moment before speaking again.

  "Lois, the receptionist. With your permission I'd like to make her my new personal assistant," she said.

  Shale looked shock. "The old lady who answers the phones?"

  "If you mean the lady at the front desk, the lady a few years from retirement, the lady who looks to be about your age then yes. That one."

  Shale's face turned a bit redder. "Alright," he said, and then sighed. "Look, Jill. I don't want you to think you're not part of the team. What happened was probably just a coincidence..."

  "It wasn't," Jill said. "I know it wasn't and you know it wasn't and most of all Mr. Chadwick knows it wasn't. But I'm prepared to put it behind me. However, if you want to pursue it I suppose we could bring Tina and Mr. Chadwick's assistant in here to discuss it..."

  "No. No." Shale said. "You're right. Let's just let bygones be bygones. The ratings are what counts. I just don't like waking up and seeing the behind-the-scenes stuff in the news."

  Jill kept her smirk to herself. She knew that was another lie. Bill Shale was all for anything that promoted ratings. What he hated was having his conservative guard betrayed as unable to match wits with his new co-host."

  Jill stood. "Well, I've got a ton of phone calls to answer," she said. She glanced down at Chadwick before leaving. "See you on set."

  Part III

  "Want me to sweep the office for bugs before or after I get us some coffee," Lois asked.

  Jill giggled. It felt good to be able to let her guard down and relax a little. "Later perhaps. For fun." she said. "Right now I'm to exhausted to be paranoid. Some caffeine sounds great."

  She and Lois had been doing research in advance of the next few editions of Loggerheads. The next edition focused on the ongoing global warming debate, which Jill knew was not a topic she could knock out of the park. Like a lot of people, she questioned science that said all climate change was caused by humanity.

  "He'll try to pigeon-hole you," Lois said when Jill shared her opinion and wondered aloud how to approach the subject. "You're going to have to find a way to make your points without letting him smear you."

  "And get a word in edgewise," agreed Jill. "Hmmm. I just had an idea."

  "I used to have those," said Lois.

  Jill smiled up at her. "Don't be coy. You still have plenty from what I see."

  Lois said down in the chair across from Jill, crossing bird-like legs that ended in square-toed purple pumps. The older woman was wearing a complementary purple plaid suit and her white hair was pulled into a bun. Earlier, when Jill had praised her on the outfit, her assistant had cackled about how it was a thrift store find. "I bought a red hat to go with it," she confided, and Jill decided then that she wanted to be just like Lois when she grew up.

  "So let's hear it," she said.

  "Well, I'm thinking that you're right. Chadwick will just try to paint me as someone who wants to use global warming legislation to hamstring American businesses because I'm anti-capitalist, yada, yada, yada. But I'm thinking I'll turn it around on him by asking him what is wrong with doing something to make a difference on the outside chance that we puny humans are impacting the earth."

  "Good strategy," said Lois. "I've read his books and Chadwick's strategy isn't to debate but dominate. And you don't strike me as the type of woman who is going to let herself be dominated."

  Jill took a sip of her coffee and swallowed hard. "Lord knows there's enough of them out there," she said.

  "Indeed there are," said Lois. "Back when I was young it was expected that I'd marry, stay home and have babies. But it was never for me. After college I got a job as an executive secretary to a businessman who took me to - of all places - Hong Kong. All my mother worried about was whether I'd be able to find a husband 'over there.' She was old school and it bothered her that I might marry a foreigner. Two years later it bothered her even more that I hadn't."

  "You never married?" Jill asked.

  "Nope. Like I said, it wasn't for me. I'd work and spend what money and time I had traveling. I've never managed to save much but I sure have seen a lot."

  "That's awesome," said Jill, putting her chin in her hand. "I don't know what I want, but I haven't really felt a need to settle down yet. I know I probably should, but...."

  "Well, don't wait too long if you ever start wanting it," said Lois. "So many women marry to fulfill expectations but more and more are letting love pass them by for the same reason. It's funny. I marched for women's rights, was in NOW and the one thing I never figured out is why most women still listen to everyone but themselves. The used to listen to men. Now they also listen to television, magazines, other women..." Her voice trailed off. "They're true to everyone but themselves. It's enough to make an old protestor cry."

  "Yeah," Jill said. "But I'm not sure if it's really that simple. I mean, if a woman is, say, traditional, or even old-fashioned she risks setting back the sisterhood by not taking charge."

  "Balderdash," Lois scoffed. "If she can't take charge of her own life and go after what she wants, then she's not a feminist."

  Jill looked at the older woman and was suddenly seized by the urge to ask her what she thought of a feminist who harbored traditional gender role fantasies, even though she advocated the opposite. But she didn't get a chance. A knock on the door interrupted them.

  "Yes," she said. The door opened and Brad Chadwick poked his head in.

  "I was wondering if I could have a word with you in private," he said.

  "Sure," said Jill.

  "I was just going," said Lois. "I'll just be at my desk, listening to Rush." She turned and winked at Jill, who tried to keep a straight face.

  "Please, sit down, Mr. Chadwick," she said. "Can I offer you something to drink?"

  "No, I won't be staying
that long," he said. "I just wanted to clear a few things up in private about the disagreement. And please, call me Brad."

  Jill ignored the request. She knew it was catty, but she was still angry at him, even if she refused to let it show through on the surface. "Mr. Chadwick, I thought I'd already made it clear that I was willing to put the matter behind me."

  "Well I'm not," he said. "Especially if you maintain any notion that I somehow planted Tina in your office."

  "Your denial would be a little easier to buy if she'd been feeding information to anyone else," Jill shot back. "I can hardly be blamed for doubting you when all the evidence is pointing in your direction. You've yet to offer up anything that should make me believe that you weren't behind this."

  "I certainly have," Chadwick said hotly.

  "And what was that?" asked Jill. "I must have missed it."

  "It was my word." He replied.

  "Ah. Your word. I suppose you think that you've grown used to blind agreement with anything you say around here but you forget, Mr. Chadwick. I'm not among your fan base."

  "You know, Miss Parmele. You're really ---"

  "What?" she interrupted with a laugh. "Unpatriotic? Isn't that what you call a person who dares to disagree with a conservative?"

  "No, the word I was looking for was rude. You could use a lesson in manners." He stood up. Jill stood up, too and walked over to the door, opening it.

  "Well, when you run across someone capable of teaching me some, please let me know. Until then I have work to do. So if you'll excuse me..."

  Chadwick walked to the door but stopped just before going out. "Don't think this is settled, Jill," he said. "Because it's not."

  He walked out then and Jill shut the door. Leaning against it, she shut her eyes and allowed herself to finally feel angry, not at him but at herself. For all her bravado, Jill Parmele's knees were shaking.

  Part IIV

  That night's show was a draw, although Jill felt that by deflecting the expected attempts to label her she'd probably be declared the winner. She was. The blogs again heralded her for not backing down to Chadwick, who one blogger called a "paper tiger blown away by the winds of change."

  But not everyone praised her. She had infuriated right-wing bloggers, who harped on the cancellation of Progressive Edge and predicted it was only a matter of time before she failed as co-host of Loggerheads. Some suggested Chadwick was deliberately cutting her slack in preparation for a "smackdown." Jill even caught some heat from liberal commentators, who felt she should have declared global warming was completely manmade and suggested that by not doing so she was throwing a bone to ANN.

  It was a weak argument; Jill had simply said she didn't think anyone could be sure and that humans should err on the side of caution and take steps to minimize their impact on the planet by conserving energy and recycling. When she'd asked Chadwick whether he was anti-conservation, he had stumbled a bit finding no good way to be anti-recycling. Her stance had made her impossible to pin down, and made his attempts to do so look petty and evasive.

  Still, she resisted offers by the morning talk shows who courted her as a guest, even though Bill Shale sent word that he had no problem with her doing so since it would raise the profile of Loggerheads. To Jill, making the rounds so early in the show's life smacked of self-promotion, and she didn't want her reputation to hinge on how deftly she handled the notorious Brad Chadwick. She hoped a few more episodes would have people actually listening to her ideas. Then she might start doing interviews.

  There had been no arguments during the breaks of the latest show, no angry words afterwards. On camera, Brad Chadwick engaged her in his opinionated style. He called her Jill and she called him Brad, but only in front of the cameras. On breaks they discussed what was about to happen in a cordial fashion, and Jill assumed that her co-host had finally realized the futility of convincing her he hadn't been working against her.

  She felt relieved by the change in his off-screen demeanor. It bothered her that their earlier exchange had left her so unnerved and shaky. Later, she tried to figure out what had shaken her so and then realized it was her first time alone with the man. Before she assumed his toughness was just for the benefits of others, but now she realized that he wasn't all bluster. Brad Chadwick was indeed a hard man. She was glad she didn't have to deal with him outside of work.

  Chapter Five

  Part I

  Jill woke up the next morning to see snow falling. She smiled, remembering that the forecast called for snow up and down the upper east coast. While the weather would mean a chilly commute for her, it also meant the perfect conditions for the beginning of Megan's long ski weekend. She had talked to her sister the night before, listening as Megan shared how the overnight trip getaway had turned into a mini vacation for her and Trent.

  "We'll actually be able to sleep in a bed without the baby between us," she giggled.

  "Who knows, the two of you might even be able to have sex," Jill added.

  "That shows what you know," said Megan. "Once you have a baby the bed is useless for sex because the kid is in it with you more often than not. On the upside, you get to discover all the other places that can be used for sex - the bathroom, the laundry room, the kitchen counter."

  "Geesh, Megan, TMI," said Jill. "No more dinners at your house."

  "We wipe it down afterwards," Megan said and the two burst into laughter.

  Later, Jill again was hit by the nagging feeling that she was missing something. She was thirty-two years old and had a great career, but she couldn't help but feel that Megan, who was three years younger and a stay-at-home mom seemed so much happier and carefree. She knew life wasn't perfect for Megan; she'd put her teaching career on hold to be home with Emma. But Megan seemed unburdened by all the complications that came with juggling everyone else's expectations.

  Jill thought about what Lois said, about how women should be true to themselves. When Jill closed her eyes and allowed herself to picture her perfect life, it still included a career but also a husband and children. But not just any husband. She knew she could never be attracted to the kind of men she attracted, and it made her feel sad.

  She rolled over and groaned into the pillow. Jill wanted to go back to sleep, but knew she had to get up. She was just glad it was Friday and looked forward to a weekend of relaxing at home.

  Traffic was stop and go on the beltway. Through the window, Jill could hear the limo driver swearing under his breath at drivers who ventured out even though their skills were no match for the road conditions.

  At the ANN offices, she noticed far less people in the hallway than usual. The weather had been too much of them, so she was surprised to see Lois already seated at her desk.

  "I didn't expect to see you here." Jill said.

  "Why? Am I fired?"

  "Of course not," replied Jill. "I just thought with the weather being like it is you'd be inside like most everyone else."

  "Two years ago I went on a hiking trip in Nepal," said Lois. "The sherpa said I had more stamina than anyone else in the group." The older woman nudged Jill's arm and winked. "And he wasn't just talking about my stamina on the trail, either."

  Part II

  The clip on the video screen was definitely provocative. Badly drawn cartoon characters from Gay Brigade, a comedy program featuring an all homosexual army unit were shown saving their straight comrades from enemy fire before breaking into a dance number. But the show meant to mock both sides of debate on gays in the military had come under fire of its own.

  Between Jill and Brad Chadwick, Gay Brigade producer and lead writer Aaron Sims sat laughing at his own work as the clip ended.

  "Now I notice you're laughing, Mr. Sims, but this cartoon has a lot of people hot under the collar," Jill said. "And not just military types. You're under fire from the gay community as well."

  "I happen to believe there's room enough in this world to offend everyone," said Sims, grinning.

  "Well, keep in mind tha
t a lot of men fought and died for your right to offend them," growled Chadwick. "It seems to a lot of people that painting straight troops as closet homosexuals who secretly want to join the Gay Brigade is flagrantly disrespectful."

  "Dude, that's the point!" Sims bounced up and down in his chair with enthusiasm. As Jill watched, she wondered if he was high on something or just had forgotten to take his Ritalin.

  "Well, Brad, in his defense, the military leadership in previous administrations as certainly exhibited behavior that could be construed as homophobic, and homophobes are sometimes anti-gay because they feel guilty about their own gay tendencies."

  Chadwick laughed. "Typical liberal drivel," he said. "Anyone who hates gays is obviously gay. Yeah, right."

  "I didn't say anyone," corrected Jill. "I said some. Mr. Sims has simply extrapolated a parody from the possibility that a portion of the hard-core male military leadership may have a softer side they're trying to hide."

  "That's incredibly insulting," Chadwick said. "I think you owe an apology to every man who's ever died in uniform."

  "Do you think any of those men who died were gay, Brad?" Jill asked with a smile.

  Chadwick stammered a reply. "Well, possibly. I mean, maybe."

  "How about definitely," said Jill and pulled out a handful of articles about gay servicemen who had been killed or wounded in duty.

  "These were troops who were forced to hide who they were out of fear of the military leadership," she said, holding the article up to the camera. The story included photos of some of the servicemen. "So what's the greater wrong, Brad? Creating a parody of what might be or forcing someone to deny what is?"

  "That's beside the point," Brad Chadwick fumed, "and I'm going to have the last word on this by saying that the majority of men who lead troops into battle are God-fearing, heterosexuals who don't deserve the kind of mockery that people like you and Mr. Sims seem think we deserve."