Chapter 27: Risky Business

Saturday, August 13, 1983

We’d moved our appointment with Jane up to eleven in the morning under the guise of it better fitting her schedule. Maybe it actually did, but it worked better for us, too. I still planned to go to HAAUG meetings in the fall, but I was fine skipping this one.

Angie got to go first, so Mom and I sat and read for an hour while Angie talked. Mom had finally broken down and brought her own book to read.

Angie and Jane came out, and I got up. We briefly touched hands as we crossed, and then Jane led me back to her office. Once the door was closed, we hugged, of course.

“It’s so good to see you!” Jane said. “I still can’t believe you were hit by a truck, even though Angie just told me all about it!”

“It was one of those things that’s not a big deal, but could have been a very big deal.”

Jane took her usual spot, and I took mine.

“Definitely. On the other hand, Laura is a very big deal.”

I nodded. “She is, though mostly because we’ve found someone else. Well, that, and the mystery about her is solved.”

“No ‘one that got away’ implications?”

I shook my head. “That was the old me. It’s not just that I have Jas, or comparing them, or anything, it’s ... Laura was the out-of-my-league desire of first-life me. Whether or not she was really out of my league is something I’ll never know, but we didn’t have a relationship that way. It might have worked great, or maybe it wouldn’t have worked at all. Even if this Laura didn’t have ample issues with respect to romance, it would pretty much amount to chasing a stranger.”

“That makes sense. You’re staying at arm’s length, then?”

“Pretty much. She’s in Illinois, we’re in Texas. We’re going to college down here, while she’s staying up there. She has reason to be a bit paranoid about me. Being friends at a distance is the best plan for now. Once she’s done what she wants with her research, then we can see where we are. I don’t think we’ll fall into bed, but we might become closer friends.”

“One of the most interesting points for me is that wish of hers.”

“Yeah,” I said. “It seems obviously tied to what’s happened, but I’m not taking anything for granted. It didn’t pick up her Steve or Angie, and — so far — none of the ‘horrible friends’ she mentioned have appeared. I don’t even know much about them. I should’ve asked her more about them, but they just weren’t a priority. Maybe there’s one ... um... ‘canonical?’ Steve, and Angie, and Laura, and whatever, and these other ones aren’t exactly real. If so, when she wished ‘me’ to get what I deserved, the wish applied to me and not him. That seems too ... solipsist ... though. The implication is that maybe the other people in our universes don’t matter, because the real versions of them are somewhere else. Only, presumably, they don’t know that they’re not ‘real.’ I mean, maybe Laura’s Steve knew he wasn’t real, but again ... solipsist.”

“And here comes the headache,” she said, chuckling. “I agree with you, meaning I agree that the whole idea of who’s real and who isn’t is a recipe for philosophical — and psychological — disaster.”

“If I went with that view, I could argue that Laura isn’t real. Or Angie, or you, or ... anyone. Maybe Laura’s wish is just some story the universe is telling me. It’s much easier to believe that perhaps the wish conveniently overlapped with what God ... or the universe, they’re somewhat interchangeable ... was doing with this universe, so he/it/whatever tossed Laura in with me and Angie. She wanted a better life, and we wanted a better life, so why not?”

She nodded. “The safest approach, by far. I agree with you: taken literally, that wish might explain you and Angie. But do you want to believe in a God or universe or whatever that takes wishes literally and ignores obvious nuances, like Laura never having met you?”

“I don’t. The wish is fascinating, but it’s still just another data point with no context. I want to support Laura because she’s like us and because we have some connection, but I don’t feel any obligation to support her. If she wanted something that was incompatible with what Angie and I, or Jas, or whoever’s part of our group wanted, I wouldn’t defer to her.”

“Hopefully, things don’t go that way.”

I nodded, then said, “Hopefully! I’m worried that out of sight may not mean out of mind. Asshole Steve and Bitch Angie did a number on Laura, and with us off somewhere else, it might be easier to believe that we were just acting. I don’t think that will happen, but it’s certainly possible, and I couldn’t totally blame her if it happened.”

“So keep an eye on her, but otherwise arm’s length?”

“Pretty much, and if we can get together in a non-threatening way, we should.”

“Makes sense. Anything more there?” she said.

“Well ... not directly, but connected. As you might expect, telling Jas changed things. The interesting thing is how.”

“Go on.”

“I wasn’t really surprised that her initial reaction was a bit of uncertainty and ... unhappiness. There are real issues there. I’m seventeen both because I feel seventeen and because I can’t be anything but seventeen, but I remember being fifty-five and have the maturity to go with it. I’d have been surprised if she didn’t have an issue with that. Pretty much, I think her mind went to war with her feelings and perceptions and those carried the day. I don’t look fifty-five, I seldom act fifty-five, and so on.”

Jane nodded. “That’s about what I would have expected, too. Of course, I don’t know her nearly as well, but I’d have warned you if I saw obvious red flags.”

“The flip side of it is — and this is a good thing, no question — she really doubled down on things. I feel like we’re closer than ever, and she’s more of a partner than ever. A lot of that is simply being able to talk about things that we couldn’t discuss before. It’s not just that, though. It’s like she had a growth spurt, but in maturity. She’s not me, or Angie, or presumably Laura, but she’s made a big jump from who she was, and she was always fairly mature, last summer notwithstanding.”

“Interesting. I agree with you about it being a good thing. I’d say ‘keep an eye on things’ only in the sense that anyone should keep an eye on their relationship. In your case, though, you do have that history of accepting someone as she is even though who she is is toxic.”

I nodded. “My turn to say ‘interesting.’ I agree. I don’t see Jas turning toxic, but ... what I mean by that is that I don’t see her turning into my ex-wife. There are a lot of types of toxic people.”

“I doubt she will ever be any of them, but ... well. One interesting part of this is that I know that you have been toxic. Angie has been toxic. Most likely Laura has a toxic version. If you’ve been that before, you could be that again, any of you. And, if you can be, anyone else can be. None of you want to be toxic, though, so you all support each other and watch out for any changes.”

“Definitely. Angie and I have been doing that, of course, though we’ve hardly needed to.”

She hesitated, then shook her head just a bit. “I’m ... well ... yes and no. The reason you haven’t needed to is that you reinforce what she wants to be, and she reinforces what you want to be. She can’t get shallow and materialistic or let her addictive side get hooked because she knows you’d see it. You can’t detach or get fat and lazy because she would call you out. Most likely your self-discipline would carry the day, but you know someone is always watching who knows what could go wrong and will be all over it.”

“That makes sense to me. All of us benignly watching the others. In that context, it makes Jas more of the team as well. She knows what to watch us for, and she knows the totally-not-obvious things I might be watching for.”

“Most people don’t have the experience of a bad relationship that’s lasted more years than they’ve been alive,” she said dryly. Then she grinned a bit, and said, “It’s a testament to how far I’ve come that I can say that with a straight face!”

I chuckled. “Indeed. Anyway ... that’s probably it on Jas, for now. I’ll keep you informed, and — of course — you two can always talk, too.”

“Much more of an option now than it was before, really. I didn’t have the greatest excuse to talk to Jas before. It would just raise the question ‘Why exactly does Steve need a therapist?’”

“Indeed.”

“So, what’s next?”

“The next subject is my trip to D.C., but I’m guessing Angie covered that.”

“She did. You probably don’t need to go over it in any detail, but I’ll ask: how are you feeling about it?”

“To respond, I will quote the eminent sage Tom Cruise.”

Jane rolled her eyes and waited.

“‘Every once in awhile you just got to say, “what the heck?” and take some chances.’”

“That’s from the new movie? I haven’t seen it yet.”

“It is, and it was quite influential in my first life, at least with high school seniors this year. It was probably the single most popular yearbook quote.”

“Interesting. I can see the appeal.”

“No one thing forced the issue, but ... there’s Prom, there’s the speech, there are the newspaper articles, there’s the plan around Michael Dell, and so forth. We’re no longer reacting. We’re out there, saying ‘What the heck?’ and taking chances. Some of them will fail. Undoubtedly, some will lead to unintended consequences. We’ve lost the ability to just hang back, and it’s time to get more active.”

She nodded. “So, this is an opportunity.”

“It’s at least an opportunity to make some contacts and learn something. This will put me closer to the people in power than I’ve ever been, although ... have you heard of the idea of Six Degrees of Separation?”

She shook her head. “Should I have?”

“The idea is out there. It dates from ... the 1930s, I think? Or the 1920s? It’s not popular now, though. There’ll be a play, and then — much more significantly to pop culture — a movie based on the play. The idea is that one can trace a path, based on acquaintance, between any two people in the world using no more than six connections.”

“That sounds unlikely.”

“It’s a conjecture, and there are obviously cases that would disprove it. However, right now I am, in theory, two connections from Ronald Reagan: I can contact the secretary who sent the invitation, and they could, in turn, contact Reagan. A stricter version would require friendship, which would lengthen the chains. I’m pretty sure there’s never been any proof that six is the correct number, and it’s likely higher, but how much higher was in dispute.”

“However, the more connections you make, the smaller that number is likely to be.”

“Exactly. At minimum ... well, at some point, likely sooner rather than later, we’re going to wind up both notably well off and notably involved. I don’t know if I’ll ever be a candidate or not, but I’m certain that Carl Brandt isn’t the last person I’ll help in a political campaign, both financially and in other ways.”

She nodded. “Go on.”

“When that becomes known, I’d like the reaction to be ‘Oh, Steve Marshall! I knew that kid was going somewhere!’ and not ‘Who the hell is Steve Marshall and how did he get all that money?’”

She chuckled. “That makes sense, of course.”

“So, I need to jump on things like this when I get the opportunity.”

She nodded, then said, “Hopefully, it’ll turn out to be a great opportunity.”

“Thanks!”

“Anything else?”

“Besides Angie’s note?” I said.

Jane nodded and chuckled a bit.

I went on, “One thing, and it’s probably as much to think about as anything else.”

“Oh?”

“We’re finally working towards something we’ve talked about for years: spending money, investing, and so forth. To do that, we’re starting a couple of LLCs to hold assets and property. The thing is, the LLC can only contract to the extent that the principals can contract, so we need either an adult principal or a manager.”

“And your options are limited.”

“Definitely. You’re not the only option, but you’re very much the first name to cross my mind, because you know our intentions. The thing is, we’ve passed the ‘dual relationship’ threshold and I hate making that worse.”