Variation on a Theme, Book 7
Copyright© 2026 by Grey Wolf
Chapter 2: A Voice From The Past
Monday, July 7, 1986
The phones didn’t ring, or at least not through the morning. Not here, and checking with Mom and Cammie revealed they hadn’t rung elsewhere. Nor had my pager gone off.
Reagan’s comments themselves were front-page news, though. Various gay-rights leaders were quoted as expressing cautious optimism about it. Reagan had hardly come out with a full-throated support for gay rights, but his being willing to support not only the end of ‘sodomy laws’ but also, by extension, the end of any law that treated gay people as ‘lesser’ was a pretty big deal, at least in 1986 terms.
There was still going to be a fight (or, rather, a succession of fights). That much was clear. But the battleground had shifted, and it had shifted faster than I could have expected. That my sister was an important part of that shift was even more mind-blowing, even nearly six years later.
I made a quick call to Lee just before lunch. He had heard, via Michael, and was amused. The two of them had talked, and neither of them, nor P.C.’s Limited’s counsel, had any issues. I wasn’t a public face of the company in any way, nor had I said anything problematic. Having the President quote me was, most likely, a good thing.
It pointed out, though, that I might be at least a public face of a public corporation within a couple of years. Being on a Board of Directors hardly meant one gave up their right to express an opinion, but it did add even more weight to thinking through those expressions before making them.
And, if our company (whatever it might be named — surely not MNMS!) took off, I would need to be that much more careful. My first-life’s version of Michael had expressed a number of opinions along the way (especially for someone generally considered ‘tight-lipped’), but he was very cautious about them. I expected to be less circumspect, partly because my focus was on making things better.
People like Ben and Jerry (of ice cream fame) might be more my model. They were much less hesitant to say what they meant, even though their comments often affected their sales.
If I stopped speaking my mind because of worries about how much money I, or my businesses, could make, I was probably heading into questionable territory. If I started tailoring what I said to what might improve profits, I was further down that path.
Another thing to watch, and all of it something I really couldn’t share with Lee. At least, not yet. I expected to lean on him as a mentor over the years, but telling him now that I reasonably expected to be a billionaire would either draw laughter or questions I couldn’t answer. He wouldn’t even believe that of Michael, not yet, and Michael had been one of the richest people in the world by 2020.
The four of us got together for lunch and decided to head back to College Station on Friday after lunch with Mom. We would stay at Mom and Dad’s tonight.
That was a bit early, given our schedule, but it already felt like we were spinning our wheels. To use up a bit of the time, we decided on another round of wedding planning. Why not?
Wedding planning could easily take three days. Friday felt like a fairly reasonable option, all things considered.
Our appointments with Jane were at three and four. We arrived slightly early, as usual, and hung out until Angie went back to talk to her.
I got up when she came out. We touched hands as we crossed, and then I was saying hello to Jane. And giving her a hug, once we were in private.
Once I was back in my favorite seat, Jane said, “Angie gave me some of the highlights, since they apply to her, too. Well ... some of them do.”
“Sharon? Aunt Helen? Reagan?”
“All of those,” she said, chuckling. “Though maybe less about Reagan than you would have.”
“Eh?” I said, shrugging. “It’s a big deal. It also isn’t.”
“Because he quoted you before?”
“And because the whole thing is — ironically, perhaps, because it was on a ‘news show’ — less ‘newsworthy.’ There’s no event here. I’m just some guy the President quoted. He quotes a lot of people. I’ve gotten coverage before, but there’s no hook here. ‘President quotes high school student!’ is a headline. ‘President quotes some guy he’s quoted before’ is less meaningful.”
“I can see that,” she said.
“If and when the phones start ringing, I’ll rethink that. I’m a known quantity now. If they call, it’ll be fine. I’ve got resources to draw on. What I think will happen is that everything will stay nice and quiet until my name turns up somewhere else. When it does, a bunch of things will come out of files, and there’ll be some questions. Not gotcha questions or anything, just ... questions.”
She nodded.
“Makes sense to me. So, not a big deal press-wise, probably. To you, though? Personally?”
“It’s a big deal,” I said, shaking my head. “Not even six years in this life and I’ve been quoted by the President twice? Been on a national news show? That ... it’s...”
I paused, collected my thoughts a little, and then said, “Getting rich was more predictable. We’re going about it right, but still. I should have been able to do that. Knowing what I knew, becoming a director was plausible. Even reasonably likely, maybe. But this? This is wildly unpredictable. It’s not the only thing. Potentially influencing a Supreme Court decision is also unpredictable, and it has nothing to do with the sequence of events that gets Reagan quoting me. But ... yeah.”
“Does it bother you?” she asked.
I pondered that. Not for very long, though. I pretty much knew the answer.
“No and yes?” I said. “It doesn’t, but ... sometimes, it can. I know you can’t comment on Angie all that much...”
She smiled and nodded.
“But we’ve both talked about it. Are we different in this life? Or were we just serious underachievers in our first lives? Not about the money, and not about Curtis, but it seems like I could have been a national champion debater — or close — and done some other amazing things. Except...”
She waited, then said, “Except?”
“Could I have done any of those things without Angie? No Angie means no co-ed study group, probably. Maybe we could have managed via Mel, Mark, and Morty. No Angie, likely no Jasmine. And no Candice. And less motivation. Put that together and maybe I’m just ... me. First-life me.”
She nodded.
“A good answer. Not a new one, but good. But ... yes. It’s a reason to not let things bother you.”
“Angie has it worse, in my opinion. Was the math genius always there? Or is that new? I can pretty much see the potential for everything I have now in that me. Maybe no path to realizing it, but it was there. For her? There’s no way to see it, but it could have been there.”
“Unanswerable questions,” she said, nodding again.
“The story of our lives,” I said.
“Let’s switch gears. You have the rest of the summer. How do you see it going?”
“Probably getting closer to Amy. What that means, I don’t know, but we’re going to be living together, more or less. It’ll mean we get closer, stagnate — which would mean something — or get a little more distant. I’m betting on closer. The others seem unlikely.”
“Interesting,” she said.
“Then there’s Janet and Lizzie’s wedding. I need to work on my speech!”
She chuckled at that.
“Not going to try the extemporaneous version?”
“I could do that fairly well. I want to do better. Some of it will probably be extemporaneous, though. Maybe more than I expect.”
She smiled and nodded.
“Also, I’ll have to work on my summer class. So, there’s that. Then there’s spending some time with Darla. Not all that much, but some. We’re pulling back naturally, which is good. Not so far back to where things will be a crisis if Hank doesn’t work out, but where it’ll feel right if he does work out.”
“Anything else?”
“Something will brew up with P.C.’s Limited. I don’t know what, but it feels inevitable,” I said.
“Nothing that big there right now?”
“No. But something will be. I just don’t know what.”
I smiled, then added, “Right now, it looks like fairly clear sailing until December. Then we’ll go to France and meet Jasmine’s relatives. After that, a busy spring getting ready for the weddings. Some diversions, but nothing huge is obvious. All of that tells me we’ll have some big things brew up. I mean, at this time last year I knew nothing about where things with Darla would lead. And she was less of a surprise than Amy! Then... ‘60 Minutes’? Police harassment? Mail from Sting? Meeting more celebrities? Reagan? It goes on and on. The odds of a quiet, boring year seem likely to be nearly nil, and the odds of something really out of the blue seem high. But, being out of the blue, I won’t be able to predict it, just react.”
“It’s lucky you’re very quick on your feet, then,” she said, grinning.
“It is!”
We wrapped things up, hugged, then parted, with promises to meet no later than mid-August. That might be just fine, or we might have a crisis next week. As I’d just said, who could possibly know?
After dropping Angie and Paige off at the Seilers’, Jas and I hung out with Camille and Francis for an hour or so. They were enjoying having us here, but would be fine with our heading back to College Station. It felt like both of them liked the idea of our taking summer classes in lieu of the delayed France trip.
We talked a bit more about the trip. Francis was already making sure family would be around when we visited. Winter was good, though. Most French people didn’t vacation all that much in the winter.
We didn’t talk about Angie and Paige joining us for any pre-trip fun. We’d already talked about it, though, so they probably figured it would happen. Heck, knowing Camille (and maybe Francis), they might well have guessed our connections went deeper than ‘close friends’ and ‘brother/sister.’ If so, that was fine. Jas would undoubtedly have told Camille if she asked, and she might have asked.
I still had to consider how and when to tell Mom and Dad. ‘If’ seemed increasingly unlikely. At some level, some of this was almost certain to come out, and quite possibly at the worst possible time.
When we got home to Mom and Dad’s, Mom had yet another surprise.
“You have a message, Steve,” she said, then handed me a note, smiling. The note said, ‘Call Nancy - after six Pacific time’ and listed a phone number.
Jas looked over my shoulder.
“That would be...?” she asked.
“Nancy Gardiner,” Mom said, smiling. “She said it had been a long time and wasn’t sure how well you would remember her.”
“Oh, I remember!” I said.
Jas nudged me.
“The other woman,” she said, giggling.
Mom snorted.
“As if! That’s like Sam flirting. He has fun, and nothing’s happening.”
Jas and I exchanged a look. Totally right, and also totally wrong.
“I’ll need to call her back, clearly. You think...?” I said.
Jas snorted.
“The odds this isn’t either ‘60 Minutes’ related or Reagan related — or both — seem very low.”
“That’s what I think, too,” Mom said.
“It’ll be an interesting call,” I said. “I haven’t talked to her in ... what? Four and a half years? Not since that Mexican restaurant in the winter of 1981.”
We agreed — it would be good to catch up with her.
The four of us gathered around the table for dinner. Conversation was lively, for all that we had very little in the way of updates. The only notable topic was our plan to return to College Station, and Mom and Dad were both in favor of that. Between our friends up there, and the need to get ready for summer classes, it just made sense.
About eight-thirty, as Mom and Dad were getting ready for bed, I took over Dad’s desk, while Jas settled on the couch nearby. As I dialed, I noted that she had the same area code as Jess, which likely put her somewhere in the LA area. Not a huge surprise. She should be in college now, and LA had some good candidates.
After a few rings, the phone picked up, and a familiar voice said, “Hello?”
“Nancy! It’s Steve. I’m glad you called. It’s been far too long.”
“Steve!” she said in an excited voice. “I was afraid you wouldn’t remember me.”
“I’ll always remember you. How’ve you been?”
She laughed softly.
“I’ll always remember you, too. I’ve been good. Really good! But it sounds like you’re doing even better. Dad called me a while back now and said he’d seen you on ‘60 Minutes’. He and Mom had to convince themselves it was really the same Steve Marshall I’d dated. Angie being there sealed the deal, but they didn’t know her much at all. Anyway, I guess you and Jasmine are engaged now? Congratulations!”
“We are, and thank you.”
“The bigger surprise is Angie, obviously! I had no idea she liked girls!”
“She didn’t know either, back then.”
Not technically true, of course. But there was no way to explain that.
“I haven’t seen the show. Not sure when I’ll be able to. Dad has most of it. He recognized you in the early part of the show and put a tape in.”
“We’ve got a recording, of course, but his will be easier, I’m sure.”
She giggled.
“I’d have seen it if not for summer school. I’m at UCLA now. Dad said you’re all at A&M?”
“We are. I’m not sure if you knew Paige Seiler...”
“A bit. Enough to not be totally surprised that she wound up with a girl,” she said, chuckling. “I knew Jasmine better, and even then, only a little.”
“Paige, Angie, Cammie, Mel, Jas, and I have a house together. Well ... Candice and Sherry — that’s Candice’s girlfriend — too, but they’re in the basement apartment and more separate.”
She laughed loudly.
“So you’re living with Candice now? And... she’s with a girl, too?”
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