Variation on a Theme, Book 7
Copyright© 2026 by Grey Wolf
Chapter 1: Here We Go Again
Sunday, July 6, 1986
We all slept a bit late. It was nice just being back home after the vacation. We couldn’t sleep too late, though. Dad had made plans for us to get together with the rest of our family (or, technically, family-to-be). Instead of the Warwick, which we’d visited fairly recently, we had a family brunch at the DoubleTree, site of my long-ago meeting with Megan and her parents.
The Nguyens and Seilers listened with great interest both to Angie’s (fairly brief) recap of her meeting with Sharon and the news from the family reunion. Caution was the watchword. Everything looked good, but both Sharon and Aunt Helen had gone off the rails before and could do so again. If I had to bet, my bet would be that Aunt Helen would be more likely to go wrong. Even saying that might jinx Sharon, though.
We only updated them a bit about Grandmother, Professor Berman, and Grandma. We couldn’t really say the things we actually meant — that Grandmother and Professor Berman were doing considerably better than we’d hoped, while Grandma was doing no worse. That depended on our knowing things we could not have known.
It also, perhaps, depended on a level of maturity that might have surprised even this group of parents, who had known we were unusually mature for years now. Are young people supposed to really understand the frailties and misfortunes of the elderly? I would be hesitant to say I did, but I certainly understood things much better than I should have at a ‘normal’ twenty years of age.
Francis was understandably grumpy about the trip to France being delayed, but had come to terms with it. As long as he was feeling fine, his doctors said there was no problem with his taking a year-end transatlantic flight. Our new plan was to start the new year in Paris and then see the relatives, with our flight back tentatively planned for Sunday, the 11th of January. Our classes started a week later on Monday, the 19th.
That gave us an interesting schedule. Our last day of finals was Friday, December 19th. We could stay for Christmas, then have nearly a week in England before going to France. Or we could miss Christmas and have longer.
Mom brought that up immediately, saying, “It wouldn’t surprise me if you kids headed over early. All of you, I mean, not just Steve and Jasmine. You don’t have to worry about Christmas, if you do. We would love to have you, but we’ll probably see you for Thanksgiving, and we’ll manage.”
“We’ll all do Christmas together, perhaps!” Camille said.
“Christmas together sounds wonderful, even if it’s without you kids,” Jean said. “Either way, of course! But we know you might like to take advantage of crossing the Atlantic early to get in some extra time.”
“We’ll see,” Jasmine said. “It could well happen, but we haven’t planned anything.”
“Yes, we’ve considered the idea, too,” Angie said, giggling a bit. “Just in case there was any need to say it. We don’t want to get involved in the France side of things at all...”
“Though we might go there. ‘Cuz ... it’s France!” Paige added.
“That,” Angie said, laughing, just like everyone else was. “Definitely! But we’ll probably take a different flight back.”
“It would make sense,” Paige said.
Conversation veered from that to what we expected our summer classes to be like, our hopes for the fall, and — inevitably — both our weddings and Janet and Lizzie’s much closer one. The parents all wanted pictures, or a video if possible, of Janet and Lizzie’s wedding. The motivation was ostensibly to get ideas for weddings and see how they did things, but I suspected there was at least some subtext of wanting to see what it looked like when two women got married. We could say that it was nearly the same as what Jas and I wanted, but it wasn’t exactly the same, and some of the differences mattered.
If they had good ideas, we would undoubtedly borrow them. Lizzie and Janet would want us to, after all.
Both the Nguyens and Seilers had a surprise for us. Besides recording their own copies, each couple had asked a neighbor to tape ‘60 Minutes’ for us as well. Thus, we had two copies. CBS was sending us an official copy as well, but it hadn’t arrived yet.
It might be handy to have one. Or two. Or, well, three or more.
There were several calls on the machine, both here and in College Station. By and large, they were people I would have called back anyway, but there were a few additional names to add to the list, and I did so.
Once we made it to Mom and Dad’s, we got back to what we usually did on Sundays: catching up with friends and family. Grandmother and Professor Berman were still buzzing over ‘60 Minutes’, the rings, and so forth, and seemed in great spirits. Marshall was enjoying his summer, and it sounded like things with Sandra were proceeding as they should. I wasn’t expecting any proposals yet, but I also expected one at some point before he started being pushed as a serious NFL draft pick. That would be in a year or two, most likely, if it happened at all.
The various Northeastern couples were all doing well, and were also buzzing about ‘60 Minutes’. It had been really good to catch up with them in person. As nice as phoning is, it doesn’t make up for seeing someone face-to-face. We would see most of them at Lizzie and Janet’s wedding, but after that, the next time would probably be at our weddings.
Speaking of which, Lizzie and Janet were deep in wedding planning, stressed, and also doing great. That’s about what I expected, so I just wished them well and asked Lizzie to save a dance for me. She laughed and agreed, naturally.
As I was starting to dial Dave Mayrink’s number, Dad shouted from his office, “Hey! You have to hear this!”
We came in to hear Reagan saying, on the radio, “‘ ... makes the world a better place, and that’s what we should be striving for.’”
My heart nearly stopped when I realized exactly what, and who, he was quoting.
Reagan continued, saying, “Regardless of our political views, we are all Americans, and we should support each other. Our elected officials — including me — work on behalf of everyone, not merely those who elected them. Don’t make the mistake of wishing someone will fail simply because you didn’t vote for them. I may make fun of ‘card-carrying liberals,’ but if the people choose one to represent them, I wish them well and hope they do great things. We all win when that happens.”
He moved on, and we all listened.
It wasn’t until the speech was over that Dad said, “You missed the lead-in, of course. President Reagan said he wanted to comment on a recent Supreme Court decision, which turned out to be Baker v. Wade. His take on it was positive. He said something like, ‘The government should work for you, not against you. If something is a crime for one person, it should be a crime for everyone. As Americans, we shouldn’t feel as if our government is singling us out for special treatment because we are different. You may feel that society should not condone some things, and I may agree. But, if we do not condone something, we should condemn it for everyone, not just some people.’”
“That’s pretty cool,” I said. It wasn’t entirely surprising. For a 6-3 decision, one that Sandra Day O’Connor had supported, it felt like Reagan had to stand with it in some way. Framing it as a conservative victory was a good way to get in front of the parade. Of course, Curtis had set it up that way, and I doubted there was any accident there.
Dad said, “He then went on. His next comment was, more or less, ‘I once quoted a young man who had wise words about the importance of our welcoming and respecting everyone who welcomes and respects others themselves. At the time, I said to myself, ‘That young man is going somewhere.’ Imagine my surprise to see him speaking about similar subjects on last weekend’s episode of ‘60 Minutes’! During that broadcast, he said...”
Dad shrugged and said, “Well! We all know what you said.”
I was struggling for words, which allowed Angie to be the first to speak. She said, “Here we go again, maybe!”
Jas giggled a bit and said, “At least we’re a bit more prepared this time.”
“I ... am stunned,” I said, finding my voice. “Once was a lot. Twice?”
“About right,” Paige said. “Can’t get to three times without it!”
That broke a lot of the mood and got everyone laughing. That was certainly true enough!
“We’ll see what...” Dad said.
The phone rang, and we all stared at it. By family policy, we weren’t answering. The ring code was sacred. It might well have had nothing to do with me. Even so, it was timely, if nothing else.
“As I was saying!” Dad said, chuckling, after the phone stopped. “We’ll see what happens.”
“We will,” I said. “I...”
This time, my pager went off. I checked, and it was a New York number, and had the code for ‘important’ on it.
“Might be ‘60 Minutes’,” I said.
“Call!” Angie said, with the rest nodding.
I did. It turned out to be Mark Blodgett himself. It was a short call. He wanted to tell me that Reagan had referenced both me and the show and that I should expect attention. He was surprised and pleased that I already knew. For the moment, he asked if we would let Karen Hopkins, a ‘60 Minutes’ staffer, know about any press inquiries. She would act as a screener and point of contact if we wanted.
It hit me that I would need some sort of PR consultant in the near future. I wasn’t there yet, and probably wouldn’t be for at least a year or two, but it was on the horizon.
Once I hung up, Dad said, “That sounded good! They have someone to help manage the press?”
“They do,” I said, nodding.
“Between this and being on a board of directors, you might have to start worrying about that!” Dad said, smiling.
“It’s good that you’re so well-spoken!” Mom said. “Of course, if you weren’t, you wouldn’t have a lot of these problems.”
We all chuckled at that. In my case, it seemed true. I wasn’t being quoted for stupid things I’d said, at least. Thankfully!
We tried calling Cammie and Mel, but no one was at home. They would have to hear about it later.
We briefly repeated some of the earlier calls. Dad told Grandmother and Professor Berman, but they wanted to talk to me. Lizzie and Janet deserved to know, too. And we had to call Camille and Francis and Tony and Jean, of course. Jas and Paige got the honor of making those calls, but I spoke to them as well.
I had nearly finished talking with Dave Mayrink, who was hinting at popping the question to Carolyn and was otherwise doing well, when my pager went off again. This time, it was the home number in College Station.
I excused myself, promising to talk more with Dave soon, then called the house. Cammie answered and said, “You’ll never guess who just called!”
“Someone at the White House?” I said.
“I...” she said, then stopped. “You knew?”
“I heard half of the address. Dad heard all of it.”
“How does this keep happening?” she said, giggling a bit.
“Mom says it’s because I’m well-spoken,” I said.
She snorted and said, “I am well-spoken, too! Haven’t gotten in Reagan’s national address even once, though.”
“I should add ‘lucky,’” I said. “Or, maybe, ‘cursed.’”
“Both!” she said, giggling again. “Anyway, the message is that they apologize for not warning you. Apparently, Reagan made a last-minute request to change part of the speech. The speech-writer put in a reference to you at that point, and Reagan ran with it. She didn’t say it, but I think some of it was also to tweak ‘60 Minutes’ by not checking with them first.”
“I guess that all makes sense. Anyway, the words are out there, from my perspective. Where they go is anyone’s guess.”
“Further than you expect them to! Based on past history, if nothing else. Anyway, here’s the number,” she said, then read it off to me.
“I’ll call back,” I said. “Thanks!”
“Can’t wait to see you next week! Oh, and Amy hasn’t heard. I have no idea if she’ll freak.”
“It’s unusual for your boyfriend to be national news, I’m sure,” I said.
“It’s unusual for your boyfriend to have a fiancée,” she said. “And a host of other unusual things. Some of which she knows about!”
I chuckled and said, “True enough! I’ll call later.”
“She’s at work.”
“Tonight, then.”
The person I spoke to at the White House turned out to be Eve Kimball, who I’d met years ago at the brainstorming session while I was in Washington. I suspected she was the point of contact because she’d met me and was sufficiently junior that she had plenty of time to talk to people like me.
There was little to say, really. She apologized for the late notice, wished me luck in any contact with the press, and politely hinted at their being appreciative if I said nice things about President Reagan. I hinted back that I would, which made her happy. We parted with some vague assurance on her part that I would be contacted again sometime soon. Maybe.
I would, in fact, say nice things about President Reagan if asked. While I didn’t agree with Reagan about everything (and, in some cases, disagreed significantly), this version was doing a pretty good job for America right now, as had the one in my first life. Not perfect, but one doesn’t expect perfection from a politician.
And, just as Reagan himself had said, I wanted him to succeed. That’s different from actually doing everything he wanted to do, of course. Sometimes one succeeds by not doing something that turns out to have been a bad idea. I hoped, for instance, that Reagan would change his stance on the Fairness Doctrine. Even if he did, though, that was a stopgap, not a solution.
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