... Reagan Wilcox, post #4
This is a not-quite-rough draft. That is to say: the 'ink' isn't quite dry on it, yet. I do plan to edit the previous posts to fix things, but I'd rather get something new out (and so therefore infinitely more exciting) before I tend to the editing tasks at hand.
Chapter 3: House of Cards
1
Saturday evening there was a phone call. Leah was in the bedroom getting dressed for their usual weekly 'date', and answered the bedroom extension before Reagan had a chance to pick it up.
It was a woman's voice: "Hi." Leah didn't recognize it. "Is Reagan there?"
Leah was immediately worried, but almost as quickly she scolded herself for being so paranoid. Voice wavering slightly (which dismayed her) she asked: "May I ask who's calling?"
"Yes. Tell him it's Barbara Hutchinson from Grainger Industries." There was a pause, during which Leah tried to connect the dots. "In Cleveland," the woman said after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.
Oh, that made sense. Leah then felt rather foolish (and relieved) since it was obvious that Grainger was the company where Reagan was consulting. It was where he went every Monday through Friday. She should have known that. Where's my brain? She asked herself. "Oh, OK! Just a moment, I'll get him."
2
Reagan took the call downstairs. When she was sure he was on the line, Leah hung up in the bedroom and tried to go back to getting dressed. But of course she was curious as to why anyone from the company in Cleveland would be calling—here—on a weekend. That she could remember, he'd never been called at home, before.
3
"Hi," said Barbara once Reagan had said 'hello.' She didn't identify herself.
He was surprised, but he knew who it was. "Barb," he said, a half question, and waited for a reply. When one didn't immediately come he filled the void. "What's up?"
"Can you talk?"
It seemed rhetorical. He was talking. "Sure, Barb." He repeated, "What's up?"
She cleared her throat. He heard a TV in the background, and sounds like dishes clinking. It was around dinnertime, so … she must be at home. That made sense, he reasoned, she was married. She had two kids. "I'm calling you," she said, "because I wanted you to have a heads up."
A heads up? "About what?"
She cleared her throat again. "Are you sure you're able to talk?"
"Sure, I'm sure," he said. "What do I need a heads up about?" Now he was worried. This was intrigue, what with all the 'are you sure you can talk' bullshit. And coupled with her calling on a Saturday night … well, he immediately reached the conclusion that it couldn't be good.
"They found out about us," was all she said.
So, it wasn't good. "Who?" was all he said.
"Fisher. And Roberts."
Fisher was the division vice president at Grainger, and Roberts was Fisher's boss. Essentially, they were the two guys who'd hired Reagan. Barbara was the director of the department, and Reagan's closest contact in the company. Very close, as it happened.
"When did they find out?" he asked, since he was mentally doing the math since he'd left their offices on Friday. It had been more than 24 hours. Why now?
She sighed, "I don't know. Friday. I think."
All he could think to ask was: "How?"
4
She laughed. It seemed incongruous.
But Reagan was irritated by her response. "Why are you laughing?"
"Buddy boy, they're going to fire you, and all you can ask is how they found out?" She laughed again.
He found it hard to keep an even demeanor. But she was right; the shit had apparently hit the fan. Things were about to change. Then he corralled his thoughts into a more coherent pattern. "What's going to happen to you?"
She laughed again, but the tone had changed. "How sweet of you to think of someone else, for a change." He didn't think he deserved the shot. He wasn't that selfish. She went on, "I'm fine." She paused, "They're more worried about what I'm going to tell my husband, than anything." She explained, "You see, I know some things about Roberts that you don't know. My job is safe."
Reagan looked around to be sure that Leah wasn't within earshot. "You're not going to tell your husband, are you?"
She sighed, "No." Then her tone changed. Hardened. "Don't worry about Tim, buddy boy. I think you got bigger problems than him."
"So," he asked, "what am I supposed to do?"
"They're still expecting you here on Monday, as usual. I don't know when they plan to talk to you, exactly, or what they're going to tell your company about what's been going on, but I wouldn't necessarily count on being here past Monday." Her tone softened. "I'm sorry, Reagan. Really, I am."
5
After hanging up, Reagan found it difficult to concentrate on the here and now. The here was his home in Atlanta with his wife, and the now was the fact that they were planning to go out for their usual Saturday night thing. Habit. Routine.
Comfortable. Safe.
That seemed about to change.
Reagan didn't know what Grainger was going to say to his own company, but he doubted anything bad would come out of it. He probably wasn't the first consultant to have ever had an affair with a client, and he was doubtless not to be the last. He wasn't considering the effects that company policy might be about to have on his ass.
But that was all something to worry about, some other time. Leah, in particular, could not be allowed to find out what had happened. Losing Grainger—losing Barbara—those were serious considerations, perhaps, but nothing compared to the shit-storm he was sure would erupt if his ditzy, doting wife Leah ever found out he'd been unfaithful to her.
He gave her a lot of credit, apparently, and more than she would have given herself. But, he still didn't trust her, or feel the need to be honest with her. Because being honest with Leah meant he had to first be honest with himself.
No man wants to see himself for what he is.
6
"Who was that on the phone," said Leah once she'd come downstairs. Of course she knew who it had been, but she didn't know who that Barbara Hutchinson person was. Or why she would be calling Reagan at home. On a Saturday.
His first inclination was to say 'no one', and leave it at that, but he sensed that that would not be the answer she would be wanting, and so would not be closing the subject from further enquiry. He was forgetting how incurious Leah seemed most of the time. He was no longer counting on her apparent lack of critical thought or her complete, utter trust in her husband.
He was missing an opportunity to have the whole thing blow away without a trace. Of course, he didn't know how he would explain getting fired from Grainger, but that seemed the easiest lie to tell. A thousand plausible explanations existed, and he had plenty of time to sort through them. Now, about that phone call …
"That was Barb Hutchinson with Grainger."
"I know. She said who she was. What did she want?"
"I dunno," he sniffed, "something to do with the report I wrote last week." He shrugged, smoothly hoping he would convince her that the call was inconsequential.
"And she had to call you at home on a Saturday night?"
He shrugged again. "Yeah. I dunno. Some people don't know when to stop working, I guess."
"I see." Leah smiled, seeming satisfied. "What was that part about her not going to tell her husband?"
7
The question seemed innocent, but he wasn't sure. He almost asked 'you heard that?' but kept it inside at the last instant. He decided to play dumb, instead. "What part?"
"You asked her if she was going to tell her husband." Leah walked to the front closet to get her purse. She always kept it hanging on the doorknob. She slung it over her shoulder, "I'm sorry I was eavesdropping. I just hope it's not a problem, or something."
"No," Reagan said, relieved. He smiled, "Everything is fine." He came forward to take her by the arm, "C'mon babe," (he'd never called her that, that she knew) "let's go."
But she did like the sound of it.
posted by Coogan at 10/09/2004 01:55:00 PM
4 Comments:
This part was very interesting to read. I didn't like the "buddy boy" thing at all. Is that just part of Barbara's personality or is she trying to distance herself from Reagan? She seemed awfully casual about the whole thing. It makes me wonder if this was Barbara's first affair with a co-worker. I'm sure hoping that Leah isn't as naive as she appears. The story is getting better. Keep up the good work.
I think Leah may be about to get a wake up call.
As far as that Barbara character is concerned, she knows which side her bread is buttered on.
You seem disappointed, but your criticism is very good, and I agree with most of what you've said.
We haven't spent much time at all getting to know these characters. Right now they are very flat and we aren't sure why they may be acting as they are. My job, I think, is to paint a better picture of them in these first few pages so even though we haven't read 100 pages about Leah's experiences growing up in a large, struggling, Catholic family, we still know who she is and where she's coming from. Same applies to Reagan. We definitely don't like him very much, so far, and he's going downhill, fast. Is he redeemable? We don't know and have no reason to care, yet.
Leah is not being very aware, and is displaying a curious lack of curiosity. We haven't crawled inside her mind to view first-hand all the rationalizations and self-delusions she's employing to keep thinking everything is fine and dandy, when it isn't. That's something major that's probably missing. I can see more exploration of her thinking being needed. My thought was that over the next several pages we would get ample opportunity to do that, but still, things need to be fixed.
Reagan doesn't immediately think the call has anything to do with his extra-curricular activities. He feels he has hidden his tracks well enough to be "safe". If Barb, his client team member, calls, then he thinks it's probably about work. He only begins to think the call may be about other things when she repeats the question. I'll think about what's going on in his mind, and try to rethink the phone call scene. Perhaps he should be more worried about what he's been doing.
There could be other things going on, too. I'm not sure if they will become relevant.
Leah is not going to let this drop. She's one of those delayed reaction types, who has to sort things out before she acts or says anything. I have planned for her to question Reagan further once she's sure something isn't adding up. Until then, she'd rather pretend it's nothing, since that's so much nicer to believe.
A good thing about a character worksheet is that it forces the writer to think through his/her characters. It's true I haven't spent much time developing the characters outside the story, and that's a legitmate beef. On the other hand, we've only read the equivalent of about 10 pages in print. There's still time.
OK, here's where we are:
1. Get over the flu. Being sick sucks, but it's technically off-topic.
2. Read all the comments, absorb everything, and rewrite.
I've been thinking (to the extent that it's been possible) that my initial experiment in story/character development isn't quite working as I had hoped. That's OK. I have some ideas how to fix things.
Let the reader into Leah's mind a little more. She may still not be acceptable to all readers, not being one who has her sh*t together, but she's not mindless.
Perhaps include a little more background on things in the Wilcox household. We know about them being childless, but we don't have a clear idea of the things that might have brought them to where they are. Of course, many of us probably can't say exactly how we got to where we are.
I've thought of starting with Reagan in Cleveland, perhaps introducing his involvement with Barbara, then leading into his usual weekly homecoming. Then again, maybe not. A fever makes thinking very difficult. I might still be delirious.
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