of some psychology class you took in your first year of college.”
“They are not. I’m sorry I made such a stink about your latest liaison. I was totally out of line.”
“Great.”
“What?” Nat pulled out a cigarette from her knapsack.
“I just want us to have a normal relationship.”
Nat lit her cigarette and laughed. “Listen, normal equates to misery. Look at our friends. At best they tolerate each other. What we’ve got is a lot better. I should never have said anything about the neighbor. I broke our cardinal rule, and for that I prostrate myself and beg your forgiveness.”
“Please,” Hilton said. She studied Nat as she smoked her cigarette. It dawned on her that Nat had no sense of danger, of consequence, of anything beyond today. Tomorrow didn’t matter and 44
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when it did she’d worry about it then. It was sort of like some pol-luted, warped kind of Zen. All that mattered was this moment and perhaps the next five minutes. The rest was irrelevant. What was past was finished. What was future was too mercurial to worry about. Hilton took Nat’s hand. “Maybe you’ll love me totally when you’re old and wrinkly and no one else wants you.” She could smell the pasta cooking and the pungent smell of spaghetti sauce.
Nat laughed. “You know I probably will. Now, let’s go check on dinner.”
They ambled inside. Liz looked down at their joined hands and Hilton could sense her relief. All was right with the family again.
For now, Hilton thought.
45
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Chapter Four
Anne was looking at the Web site Hilton had created. The past two weeks had been a blur and here it was Friday night and she still couldn’t get enough. Her mother was correct. She was a worka-holic, but one didn’t get to the top of the radio talk scene without wholehearted dedication coupled with complete obsession.
According to her mother, Victoria Anne Counterman, this was why her husband, Gerald, had left her. Anne pissed on her mother’s opinions once again. The Web site traffic was growing steadily. This meant a new market for sponsors and if the traffic continued it would increase revenue as more advertisers became interested, so Victoria-mother-of-all knowing-mothers could just go fuck herself, Anne thought smugly.
“I’m going to be happily obsessed,” Anne said to the empty room.
Perhaps the part Anne found most satisfying about the last two weeks was that she was interested in the show again. It was difficult 46
All content of this eBook is copyrighted.
admitting to herself that at thirty-nine her lifelong dream bored her. The worst part for someone who shared her life with the world was that she had to keep this a secret. How could she tell her loyal followers or her devoted staff that some days she was bored to distraction, that she could care less about the day’s topic or the caller’s opinion. She, Anne Counterman, hated her job. It was a disgrace to herself and she was perpetrating a fraud on her listeners. This had been plaguing her daily until Hilton had walked into her life, and all of a sudden the show became fun again. It’s a good God damn thing, Anne thought, leaning back in her black leather chair. Hilton, of course, had no idea this was occurring, but that was of little consequence. It was better to be a muse and not know it. Being an inspiration put pressure on a person and could inhibit their future productivity. She had often wondered if she’d done that to Gerald. Had she picked his brain too often? Had she sucked him dry emotionally with her need for approval and security? Had she sent him in search of calm, clear waters?
She exhaled loudly and shut her conscience off. What was done was done. She turned back to the Web site and began scrutinizing its parts. Speaking of creativity, she thought, the site should really have a message board where listeners could post notes to her as well as each other, a
“They are not. I’m sorry I made such a stink about your latest liaison. I was totally out of line.”
“Great.”
“What?” Nat pulled out a cigarette from her knapsack.
“I just want us to have a normal relationship.”
Nat lit her cigarette and laughed. “Listen, normal equates to misery. Look at our friends. At best they tolerate each other. What we’ve got is a lot better. I should never have said anything about the neighbor. I broke our cardinal rule, and for that I prostrate myself and beg your forgiveness.”
“Please,” Hilton said. She studied Nat as she smoked her cigarette. It dawned on her that Nat had no sense of danger, of consequence, of anything beyond today. Tomorrow didn’t matter and 44
All content of this eBook is copyrighted.
when it did she’d worry about it then. It was sort of like some pol-luted, warped kind of Zen. All that mattered was this moment and perhaps the next five minutes. The rest was irrelevant. What was past was finished. What was future was too mercurial to worry about. Hilton took Nat’s hand. “Maybe you’ll love me totally when you’re old and wrinkly and no one else wants you.” She could smell the pasta cooking and the pungent smell of spaghetti sauce.
Nat laughed. “You know I probably will. Now, let’s go check on dinner.”
They ambled inside. Liz looked down at their joined hands and Hilton could sense her relief. All was right with the family again.
For now, Hilton thought.
45
All content of this eBook is copyrighted.
Chapter Four
Anne was looking at the Web site Hilton had created. The past two weeks had been a blur and here it was Friday night and she still couldn’t get enough. Her mother was correct. She was a worka-holic, but one didn’t get to the top of the radio talk scene without wholehearted dedication coupled with complete obsession.
According to her mother, Victoria Anne Counterman, this was why her husband, Gerald, had left her. Anne pissed on her mother’s opinions once again. The Web site traffic was growing steadily. This meant a new market for sponsors and if the traffic continued it would increase revenue as more advertisers became interested, so Victoria-mother-of-all knowing-mothers could just go fuck herself, Anne thought smugly.
“I’m going to be happily obsessed,” Anne said to the empty room.
Perhaps the part Anne found most satisfying about the last two weeks was that she was interested in the show again. It was difficult 46
All content of this eBook is copyrighted.
admitting to herself that at thirty-nine her lifelong dream bored her. The worst part for someone who shared her life with the world was that she had to keep this a secret. How could she tell her loyal followers or her devoted staff that some days she was bored to distraction, that she could care less about the day’s topic or the caller’s opinion. She, Anne Counterman, hated her job. It was a disgrace to herself and she was perpetrating a fraud on her listeners. This had been plaguing her daily until Hilton had walked into her life, and all of a sudden the show became fun again. It’s a good God damn thing, Anne thought, leaning back in her black leather chair. Hilton, of course, had no idea this was occurring, but that was of little consequence. It was better to be a muse and not know it. Being an inspiration put pressure on a person and could inhibit their future productivity. She had often wondered if she’d done that to Gerald. Had she picked his brain too often? Had she sucked him dry emotionally with her need for approval and security? Had she sent him in search of calm, clear waters?
She exhaled loudly and shut her conscience off. What was done was done. She turned back to the Web site and began scrutinizing its parts. Speaking of creativity, she thought, the site should really have a message board where listeners could post notes to her as well as each other, a
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