Talk To Me

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Friday—yes! After three days of work I was ready for a break. The show went pretty much the same as it had for the previous two. I tried my hand at board op under Marly’s watchful eye. She tolerated a lower level of sound quality in exchange for my doing the work. It was a trade-off, one that left her free to converse with callers and to flip through music selections without being unduly burdened. I was amused by Marly’s sense of humor, and I enjoyed the work even though I felt drained. And to my own amusement, I became interested in learning this strange occupation. My life was on a new track. Unlike Marly, it was too soon to say if this was any sort of career position. I was relieved to learn something new and completely different. It was a break from thinking about my problems.

In the studio after our lunch break, Marly and I spent the afternoon reviewing the basic tasks ahead of me. The equipment was easier to use than I had feared. It was fairly low tech, especially in comparison with the newer equipment in Studio A. Interpreting the log, answering phones, patching through callers, playing commercials and CDs were all starting to make sense in relation to one another. On the air my transitions were rough. The extra practice was helpful.

At five o’clock, I called Jenny from the studio. We agreed that I would pick her up for dinner and an evening at the mall for back-to-school shopping. Over burgers and fries, she relaxed a bit and told me about her upcoming high school schedule. It was her sophomore year, a welcome trade up from lowly freshman status. Being a teen comes with its own angst, and I felt guilty about contributing to that by leaving home, a situation that could make things worse before they got better. The neutral environment of the mall was a good place to connect. With the family broken up I felt a greater responsibility to keep communication lines open. I had lost so much ground with my daughter these past few months, and my absence from our home made my insides twist. Somehow the mundane realities of life had turned into anxieties from which I could not escape. Acting the part seemed the best recourse.

“When do you think you’d like to see my new place?” I asked bravely. “You can’t put it off forever.”

“Yeah, I know. I don’t feel ready. It’s weird that you’re not home with me and Dad. Jonah’s away at the university, and I never thought I’d say I miss him, but I do, my big bro. You haven’t said much about your job. How’s it going?”

“Marly says I’m picking it up pretty fast. We’ll be returning to the regular format next week—more callers, less music.”

Jennifer put down her curly fry and leaned forward. “Marly? You’re on Marly’s show?”

“Yes. Do you know it?”

“Oh. My. God! Mom, how could you?” Jennifer pulled back from me with a look of abject horror. “Haven’t you done enough already?”

“I don’t understand. What’s the problem?”

“Are you trying to ruin my life? You can’t work for her. My friends can’t know you’re working for Marly. You have to quit before it’s too late.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I like my new job. People call in and talk about music.”

“Mom, don’t pretend you don’t know.”

“Jenny, tell me what’s wrong.”

Trembling through her layered clothing, my sweet girl was near tears. Her mouth quivered as she spoke. “How could you not know?” she squeaked.

A silent shudder passed through me that awakened the one lingering question I had not broached with Marly: the gay aspect. At this point, I knew at least some of the music she played was performed or written by gay artists. Caller comments, same-s*x lyrics, and promotional mailers had cleared up that question. In general, the content did not contain anything I found objectionable, even the occasional rap song. In fact, the pleasant melodies were a lot better than some of the hard rock, hip-hop, and techno that pounded out of passing cars. Still, Jennifer’s strong reaction had me worried. I had raised her to embrace diversity in others.

“You don’t know, do you?”

I shook my head.

“Gayline, Mom.” She emphasized in a harsh whisper so others near us wouldn’t hear. “It’s a gay show. Marly is so beyond gay. She’s a shock jock, a raving lesbian. She says things. She does things on the radio. She’s totally nutso—couldn’t you tell?”

My gaping stare must have convinced her I did not know all the intricacies of the show, its host, nor the implications of my staying on the job.

“The kids at school make fun of her. They call her ‘The Loony Lesbie.’ If anyone finds out you’re working for her, I’m dead! They’re going to think you’re crazy, too. I’ll never be able to go back to school. I’m so embarrassed.”

Jennifer tented her mouth with her hands and ran out of the restaurant. I tossed a twenty onto the table and ran after her. I caught a glimpse as she rounded a corner. She ducked into a locked service doorway and I caught up to her. I grabbed her arm. She pulled it back.

“I didn’t know,” I pleaded. “The show hasn’t been like that at all.”

“Yeah, right. Mom, I don’t get you. You’re not ‘Mom’ anymore.”

Jenny burst into tears and turned toward the brick wall, her face buried in the crook of her arm. Her body heaved with bellowing sobs. I was too stunned to speak, too afraid to touch her, yet more afraid if I didn’t reach out I would lose her forever. I clutched her shoulder. To my astonishment, she spun toward me and threw her arms around my neck. I cried with her, even though I was aware other shoppers could see our dramatic display. I didn’t care. What was important to me was that despite the circumstances of my life, which seemed to be getting worse instead of better, Jennifer still needed and loved me. I was still Mom.