Chapter Text
Jean clipped an earring on and looked into the mirror, turning her head from side to side to catch the light.
“Don’t forget, I’m going out with Gail after dinner tonight!” she called out to her husband in the bedroom.
“Oh, Gail? Good-Time Gail? The Quest for the Holy Gail? That Gail?” he called back, goading her.
“Yes, that Gail,” Jean called back, rolling her eyes.
“Hm. I don’t think I know her.”
Jean ignored him.
“She wants to celebrate some big promotion she just got.”
“Another promotion? Isn’t she already the head of the head writers’ team?”
“Well I guess now she’s the top of the head.”
Steve patted the top of his head thoughtfully. “Good for her,” he said, joining her in the bathroom. He jostled past her to get to his sink, purposefully bumping into her as he muttered excuses. Jean playfully pushed him back, lightly tapping her elbow into his ribs. He finally settled in to brush his teeth, continuing the conversation while watching Jean in the mirror.
“You should be going out for some of these promotions,” he garbled through a mouthful of foam. “You’re twice the writer she is. And you’re cuter too.”
“I don’t know,” Jean protested. “I’m happy just doing drop ins here and there. If I was on staff for a show, that would be a lot more of a commitment. And then who would make sure you stay clean?” Jean rubbed a large drip of toothpaste off of Steve’s scrubs, then tossed the washcloth into the laundry basket.
“I’m just saying, you should be more ambitious. You could be doing a lot more.”
Jean had considered trying for a more steady job. She had been writing scripts for various shows on and off for years now, and she certainly had the reputation and the name to try applying for a staff job. But on the other hand, she liked the flexibility that working parttime gave her. And it wasn’t as though they needed the extra income. Tom and Jake’s college funds had been filled for years now, though it was looking more and more like they wouldn’t be necessary. Tom acted like college was an impediment to his future, rather than a springboard, and Jake… well he hadn’t been doing so well in school lately.
Jean reminded herself to have a talk with him about his grades. Again. Maybe Steve should do it this time.
Jean skipped down the stairs toward the kitchen where the boys were already busying themselves with breakfast. Tom sneered in disgust as Jake pulled a steaming bowl of oatmeal out of the microwave.
“I can’t believe you can eat that stuff,” Tom said, snatching two poptarts out of the toaster. “It looks like something that’s already been chewed.”
“Yeah, that’s what’s so great about it. Just sliiiiides down your throat like a liquid,” Jake said, lifting his spoon so that large glops of oatmeal fell back into the bowl. “Sure you don’t want to try some?”
“Yeech,” was all Tom said, turning away with another sneer. Tom was getting to be an Olympic grade sneerer.
Up until a few years ago the boys had been like best friends, but lately they had been at each other’s throats more and more. Jean supposed it was just part of growing up. She didn’t have siblings, so it was hard for her to understand the dynamics that went on between brothers as they aged. That’s how she rationalized it, anyway.
She was about to say something to them when Steve came downstairs.
“Okay, boys,” he said, ushering them toward the door. “Time to get to school. Try to learn something today. I want three fun facts and one regular fact to discuss at dinner tonight.”
“Fun fact, Jake is a dweeb,” Jean heard Tom say just before the front door closed. She shook her head, pouring herself a cup of coffee.
Jean had two problems that she knew of, and several more that she didn’t. First, she had to figure out how to get the detective to the ballroom before the cake exploded, but after the dog bit the police chief. Second, she hadn’t been sleeping well lately. She considered these two problems as she sat at her desk in the office that she shared with several other writers, slumping forward more and more with each passing second.
This was the point of the day where she either had to get up and get another cup of coffee, or she had to take a nap. Problem three, she was realizing, was that the coffee was waaaaay over there. Oh, it was so far away, if she lay her head down on the desk like this it made the coffee seem closer. If she squinted her eyes just a little bit it was like she could almost reach out across the room and grab it. If she closed her eyes completely… well then the problem went away.
When she opened her eyes again, the coffee pot was gone. And so were the other writers. Jean sat up slowly, blinking the sleep out of her eyes as she looked around the room. She glanced at the clock, inhaling sharply as she realized it was after 6 o’clock. She had fallen asleep, again, without meaning to. She quickly saved her file, gathered her things, and rushed downstairs to her car.
By the time she got home, Steve was already in the kitchen stirring something on the stove.
“Did you have any plans for that ground beef in the fridge? Because it’s tacos now. If you want you can start chopping the lettuce and tomatoes,” he said, gesturing toward the chopping board that was already laid out on the counter.
Jean washed her hands and fell into rhythm chopping the vegetables.
“I got a call from the school,” Steve said, pouring a packet of seasoning over the pan. “They said that Jake skipped a few classes again today.”
Jean shook her head, about to say something when Tom strolled in from the living room.
“You should encourage him to join the Sharing,” he said, plucking a piece of tomato off the cutting board and popping it into his mouth. “There’s a lot of good influences there. I guarantee he wouldn’t be caught skipping any more if he had some of the upperclassmen looking after him.”
“Thank you, Tom, but I think we’ll try to handle this one on our own. You may not know this, but of all the families I’ve had, this one is by far the most successful.” Steve kidded.
“Right, Dad.”
“And I’ve had a lot of families. I mean, a lot. Like, five or six in California alone.”
“Okay, Steve.”
“Oh no! I just remembered I left the iron on at my other family’s house! Quick, Tom, you take over the tacos, I’ll be back later!”
Steve pushed the spatula into Tom’s hands, and rushed out of the room, leaving Jean and Tom no choice but to look at each other and shake their heads.
“You married that man,” Tom said, stirring the meat.
“Yes, but I don’t think he started acting like this until he became a dad, so actually this is your fault.”
Two sounds drifted in from the living room, one of the TV clicking on, and one of Steve’s satisfied chuckle.
After a family dinner at which no fun facts were shared (Tom having already used up his dweeb line), Jean got ready to meet Gail at a bar across town.
Jean rolled all the windows down as she drove to the bar, the cool air waking her up. By the time she arrived, Gail was already there, laughing at the bar with a handsome young bartender.
“Jeeeeeaaan!” she shrieked, turning just in time to see Jean shuffle past the crowd at the entrance.
Jean and Gail had been friends since college, suitemates who had hit it off during their first week of freshman year.
Gail was the kind of person who made friends quickly and easily, and always enjoyed getting into new things. She was also a master networker, which, as Steve had pointed out, had allowed her to climb higher in the business than Jean, though they had both started writing at the same time.
Gail peeled herself away from the bar, drink in hand, and dragged Jean over to a freshly vacated table in the middle of the room. They perched on tall stools and leaned in toward each other to be heard over the noise of the bar.
“You want a drink? Let me get you a drink!” Gail called, waving over a waitress and ordering for Jean before she could even answer.
Jean smiled to herself. Gail was a real decision-maker, whether the decision was hers to make or not. Jean kind of liked that about her, as she was not a good decision-maker, and appreciated having someone else do the work for her every once in a while. Before the waitress had even finished writing the order down, Gail was rushing into a story about her day, and Jean shook herself out of her internal monologue to keep up.
“But that’s not the reason I wanted you to come out with me tonight,” Gail said, leaning in conspiratorially. “We are here to celebrate. You are looking at the new head writer for The Tonight Show with Cindy Sue! I have my own office, a staff of 8 writers under me, and aaaallllll the benefits.” She jangled a set of keys, ostensibly to her new office.
“Wow, Gail, that’s amazing,” Jean said, feeling some of Gail’s excitement seep into her. “I didn’t even know Cindy Sue had her own show?”
“It’s premiering mid-season, the network had to shuffle some things around after Power House got cancelled at the last minute.”
Jean remembered hearing about the main kid actor of that show having a nervous breakdown, and moving to another country without telling anyone. It had been a pretty big shock to everyone who knew him.
“That’s great, Gail, I’m really happy for you!”
“You know, you could do much better for yourself with a little networking,” Gail said, leaning in conspiratorially. “You don’t have to keep freelancing one-offs. I have some connections that could get you a really cushy job.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I’m ready for that right now,” Jean demurred.
“I really think you ought to come meet some people with me,” Gail cut her off. “We get together every week or so. It’s a great group, you’ve probably heard of it. The Sharing?”
“Oh, yes. My son is really big on that right now. I thought it was just a teen thing, though?”
Gail nodded eagerly as she started talking up this great new networking opportunity she had stumbled into. “Your son Tim? I haven’t seen him around, but it’s not just for teenagers. Everybody in the business is getting into it, you can meet so many interesting people there. And once you become a full member, you get to know Mr. Visser, and he can get you basically anything you want.”
Jean didn’t bother to correct Gail. No matter how many times she reminded her, they would always be ‘Tim and James’ to Gail. She, however, did remember hearing that name before. Tom had talked about Mr. Visser. He practically seemed to worship the guy. She got the impression that he was the founder of the Sharing.
“You really should come by sometime. The next meeting’s on Tuesday, can I pick you up?” Gail put her hand on Jean’s, squeezing gently.
“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think I’m ready to meet a bunch of new people just now. I’m really very happy with freelancing.”
“That’s what you always say. I swear, you wouldn’t have any job at all if I didn’t push you to do things. Trust me on this, the Sharing is the next big step in your career.”
Jean laughed it off, taking a sip of her drink. “Tell me more about the Power House gossip,” she said, changing the subject.
Gail kept trying to steer the conversation back to the Sharing all evening, to the point that it became almost like a game to Jean. It was like Three Degrees of Separation, but instead of Kevin Bacon, everything tied back to the Sharing.
At the end of the evening, Jean pulled out her wallet to pay for her drinks, but Gail waved her off.
“I’ll take care of it. We take care of each other, right? That’s what the Sharing’s all about, making sure everyone is taken care of.”
“Right,” Jean said, chuckling to herself.
“Keep in touch!” Gail called out as Jean heading toward the door. “I’ll call you about Tuesday? Or better yet, just come by my office sometime. We’ll do lunch and talk about it some more.”
Jean tried to decline as Gail pushed a set of keys into hear hands.
“You can take these keys to my old office. See how nice it feels to have a place all to yourself. I won’t be needing them anymore. The room number is right there on the little tag. Please say you’ll come see me? Maybe on a Tuesday?”
Jean made some noncommittal noises as she nodded and waved and she backed away. When she got to the door, she looked over her shoulder, but Gail had already turned back to the bar, striking up a conversation with a man seated there. When she got to her car, she looked down at the set of keys, resolving not to answer the phone the next time Gail called.
She tossed the keys into the glovebox and started home.