Chapter 100: Back Again, Soon To Leave

Wednesday, May 22, 1985

We hit the road in the morning. It had been an interesting trip, one from which we had some good stories, some new contacts, and plenty of things to think about.

Well worth the long drive each way, and I was certain we would be back next year. Perhaps Cammie and Mel would join us.

This time, we took a different route home so we could see a bit of different scenery. We wound up stopping for the night in Durant, Oklahoma.

We had plenty to talk about on the drive, but none of it was particularly consequential. Most of that had already happened.

It amused us that Tom was probably already back and presiding over finals. I liked the drive, but there was certainly something to be said for flying.

One of our bigger conversations was over ‘popping the question.’

I had been pretty sure it would be Angie proposing to Paige and not vice versa, but I could have been wrong. From the outside, it seemed as if Angie was the ‘alpha’ of the two of them. However, that could be wrong. People who didn’t know Gene and Sue well might easily believe Gene was in charge. Sue preferred it that way, so that’s how it was.

Heck, maybe he was. Maybe I was wrong about Sue. I really doubted it, and I knew both of them very well, but no one really knows what happens behind closed doors.

That was something I knew far too well. Most people thought my wife was a kind, generous person with seldom a mean word to say about her friends or family. That was probably even true as far as it went. She was simply totally different in public than in private, but only I and our kids would ever have known that.

In any case, my guess had Paige waiting for Angie, just as Jas would wait for me. If that reversed itself, it would be surprising but not bad. I had no issue with Jas proposing, and I’d happily say ‘yes’ in a heartbeat, but it wasn’t who she was.

After some discussion (complete with a certain amount of awkward phrasing), the four of us agreed: it would happen in its time, when it was right, and Angie and I would be the ones asking, with Paige and Jas the ones answering. Until then, we all knew the questions would be asked one day. When they were, the answers would be ‘yes.’

A bit later, Jas and I planned out the next week or so. We would alternate houses after Angie and Paige left, with a plan to head up to Austin sometime next week. Michael had already said any day would be good, and we were looking forward to seeing the even larger space and understanding the next steps in P.C.’s Limited’s growth plan.

We planned to spend at least two nights there ‘doing nothing,’ too. Some sightseeing, some relaxing.

I had a last-minute idea: perhaps we could get a cabin at Lost Pines. Those were hard to come by at the last minute. Still, one could merely try. Maybe there would be some vacancies right after the Memorial Day holiday. Jas was all for it, if we could swing it.

Angie and Paige were fine with us visiting Michael on our own. This might be the only time we could easily fit it in, at least before August, and it might give us an excuse to visit again in August.

Perhaps Michael could go over the quarterlies with us in person, if we did. That might be fun!

As we were nearing Durant, my pager went off. It was showing Jess’s number. It didn’t have our code for ‘urgent’, so I didn’t call back until after we checked into the motel. The others gathered around the phone when I called her.

After exchanging pleasantries, she said, “Got an update for you!”

“Shoot!” I said.

She chuckled, and said, “That’s what the call is about. I got an update on ‘Summer School Special’. According to the producer, via my agent, they’ve got a director. His name is Rod Amateau. Michael — my Michael, not yours! — has worked with him and says he’s ‘fine.’ It was very much ‘damned with faint praise.’”

“Got it,” I said.

“He seems to specialize in high school. His movie with Michael was ‘High School U.S.A.’ It’s a TV movie. Haven’t seen it; heard iffy things from my agent, and the reviews I found were, at best, iffier still. After that, he did a theatrical film, ‘Lovelines’. It came out last year. Reviews weren’t great. I saw a copy and ... eh. I wouldn’t have wanted to be in it, that’s for sure.”

“So far, so bad,” I said.

She giggled, and said, “I know, right? But it gets worse. The writer is an unknown. Total unknown. I mean, sometimes an unknown writer is a genius, but you’ve heard what I think of the script.”

“I did,” I said.

“They sent an update. It’s worse! I don’t even know how anyone could think this fixed anything! No one talks like this. No one acts like this! It’s just dumb! I absolutely could write a better movie!”

“So...?”

“My instinct is to say no. My agent’s instinct is to say no. There’s no shooting schedule, and financing isn’t complete, so I don’t have to back out yet. If I back out once they’re green-lighted, that might rub a few people wrong, but it’s fairly safe especially since I’ve already expressed concerns with the script.”

“What are the drawbacks to not backing out now?”

She paused, then said, “If I back out now, they might blame the project’s failure on me. It’s silly, but they could. The money is good, too. Not ‘movie star’ money, but it’s good. Really, though, it’s mostly ... the ideal thing here is for the project to crash and burn on its own. I look good, they look bad, all is well. The gamble is it taking off.”

“So, wait and see?”

“That’s my plan. My agent is calling me almost daily right now. If there’s any rumor about them getting funding, that’s my cue to back out. Also, if they attach any male actors, I could back out based on that, unless it’s someone I don’t want to offend. Or, if I get another job — or even something that looks like it might be another job — I can back out based on schedule. There are a lot of options.”

“And, I suppose, they could ditch the lousy writer and get someone else.”

She chuckled.

“They don’t have the budget. That’s the problem. Someone banged out this script cheap and they’re running with it. The thing is, even if they’d let me rewrite it — which, seriously, that won’t happen — I’d probably break a ton of union rules. I’m not in the union, I’m not a writer, they can’t pay me as if I was a writer, and on and on. There are rules you can break, but these don’t qualify, and I don’t need a reputation as a rule-breaker.”

“As always, we’re behind you 100%, come what may, but it sounds like your instincts are good.”

“What I really want is either a good movie or a solid TV role. Something recurring, even if it’s only a few episodes, would be wonderful! I mean, if it’s on a quality show and I have something to do, but I think that’s a given. There are nibbles, but my agent says they’re not serious enough yet to do anything about. Still, nibbles are good!”

“They are! We’re all hoping for bigger and better things!”

“Love you, friend!” she said. “Thanks for talking that over with me!”

“Anytime!” I said. “Love you, too!”

“Put Jas on! Girl talk time!”

I put Jas on, then made myself absent, hanging out with Angie and Paige for a bit. Girl talk was sacred, after all!

Jas and I decided to take advantage of the bed. I’d be by myself tomorrow, and we’d both be at Mom and Dad’s house the next day, meaning we wouldn’t have any chances or at least a bit.

Somehow, it felt particularly illicit, which apparently worked well for both of us. Something to remember for the future, no doubt.

Thursday, May 23, 1985

Tonight was a rare night, one where we were sleeping separately. I suspected Angie and I might wind up in bed together, but Jas would be at her parents’ house, Paige would be at hers, and Angie and I would be at Mom and Dad’s.

It made some sense. We’d very seldom been apart recently, and we could handle it for a night. Parents might have things to say to one or another of us away from our girlfriends (or boyfriend, in Jas’s case). We wouldn’t be apart much for the next few months, but the occasional night now and then wouldn’t hurt and might help.

We arrived back in Houston late in the day. Since we didn’t have that much time to get things done, we visited Stan Archer’s print shop before heading to the parents’ houses. I hadn’t seen him in a while, but all of us wanted cards made.

After a bit of discussion, we placed orders for sets of ‘MNMS’ cards and a small set of rather bland Camel Properties cards (they hadn’t created a logo yet, but cards were cheap and might be helpful), along with two different sorts of personal, non-business cards for the four of us, Cammie, and Mel. Each of the personal cards had a bit of color, while the MNMS cards were plain black and white. One set had our home address, while the other set had our P.O. Box. The first would go to people at A&M who we might invite over, while the other was for contacts who didn’t need (or we didn’t want to have) our address.

I doubted we would give out all that many of them, but we would have them, and that was the point. Some would go to waste, and that was fine. Not ideal, but fine.

Stan’s shop wasn’t all that busy (he said, at least, but it might also have been because we were connected to Dad), so he promised Angie and Paige’s cards tomorrow. The others would be a few days later, which means we would pick them up after our mini-vacation. This way, we would all have them before we needed them.

Mom and Dad were very happy to have us back. We told them a carefully edited version of our story, complete with Angie’s question and meeting James Behrens, but omitting Tom Myerson (or ‘Kevin’) and (of course) the entire See’s Candy meltdown and ensuing discussion.

Even that much was enough. Dad was proud as a peacock that his daughter had asked the great Warren Buffett a question and not only had it answered, but praised. Mom was happy for James’s daughter and glad we’d been of some assistance.

The best part of it, perhaps, was both of them agreeing we’d done the right thing about making such a long trip. It would make future years that much easier. This might be the only year it would be a ‘there and back again’ sort of trip, but it was hard to be sure.

Heck, perhaps it would conflict with finals some years. That would be a problem!

When I had a minute, I made a quick call to the Texas State Parks’ reservation line. It turned out there was a last-minute cancellation at Bastrop State Park (in the Lost Pines area). We could have a cabin Thursday through Saturday nights.