Getting Even

by Susan Beth Pfeffer

  Annie quickly surveyed what she had scheduled for the next morning. Not a single test to worry about. “It’s perfect,” she declared. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Fine,” her mother replied. “Now go off and make your millions.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Annie promised, and as she hung up, Murray buzzed her.

  “Anne, come in here,” he ordered her, so Annie did. She hoped he didn’t know she’d been on the phone with her mother, although he didn’t seem like the sort of person who’d get upset about it. But you never knew with bosses.

  “Yes, Murray,” she said, walking in.

  “We have a little crisis on our hands,” Murray declared. “A good crisis, mind you, but I need your help.”

  “What do you want?” she asked cautiously.

  “Charlie Dare called me because his guest for today had to cancel. Some woman specialist in natural childbirth,” Murray declared. “So what happens? She goes into labor. I said she could do the show from the delivery room, create radio history, but apparently she’d already vetoed that idea. Obviously not a Murray Levine Associates client. Mine would kill for an opportunity like that.”

  Annie smiled at him, still waiting to hear how Murray needed her help.

  “So Charlie asked if I had anybody available for his show tonight. We’re talking an hour from now. This is not much notice, but I guess babies are like that. My first, we just barely made it to the hospital. And first babies are supposed to take forever.” Murray smiled at the memory. “Anyway, Dr. Weinstock had just called to say he was a wee bit irritated that the world wasn’t banging on his door now that Gum Disease—The Silent Killer has finally been published. So I suggested Weinstock to Dare. Told him gum disease had been linked to herpes and AIDS. Those are hot diseases, you know. You can go far in this business if you can hook into the hot diseases.”

  Annie gave her gums another quick check.

  “Weinstock is thrilled, naturally enough,” Murray continued. “When Murray Levine Associates promises, Murray Levine Associates delivers. Although usually not so fast.”

  “That’s great, Murray,” Annie said. She was still waiting for him to explain how this good news affected her.

  “What I want you to do is go with Weinstock to Dare’s show,” Murray said. “Dentists are funny souls. I guess they’re so used to working in a crowd, those adoring dental assistants and all, that they get gun shy when they have to make an appearance on their own. Besides, this is Weinstock’s first radio show. So I promised him one of my associates would accompany him, hold his hand until he has to go on the air, that sort of thing. So here’s some cab fare, and take the addresses with you, and get going.”

  “Are you kidding?” Annie asked. “What should I do?”

  “You’re going there to cheer him on,” Murray replied. “Charlie has one of those call-in shows, and lots of times people are reluctant to call up about gum disease. So you call him from the studio, and I’ll call him from here, and my wife should be home by then, so I’ll make sure she calls too. Listen to what Weinstock is saying so your question makes sense, and see if you can work herpes or AIDS into it. All right?”

  “Should I come back here when we’re done?” Annie asked.

  Murray checked his watch. “No, go on home afterward,” he said. “I’ll answer my own phones. Although I won’t do nearly as good a job as you.”

  “Thanks,” Annie said. She grabbed the cab fare from him, ran to her office to get the addresses, and scurried out. Once she realized that she didn’t have the slightest idea what she was doing, she panicked, but then she told herself to behave the way Ashley would, and that meant cool, amused, and in complete control. Besides, it couldn’t be any harder to escort someone to a radio show than it was to appear on a television show. Which reminded her. She was supposed to do that tomorrow. She wondered if Murray would be impressed and how the kids at school would react when they found she actually had been on television. Assuming she could figure out what to wear, or find the time to wash her hair. She’d worry about that on her own time, she decided, as the cab sped toward Dr. Weinstock’s house. She approved of his neighborhood. Gum disease obviously paid well. The cabby found the right street number, and Annie told him to wait as she got Dr. Weinstock.

  She would have recognized him anywhere, since he was carrying a copy of Gum Disease—The Silent Killer. She introduced herself quickly and walked back with him to the cab, then gave the cabby the address of the radio show.

  “Murray sent you?” Dr. Weinstock asked. His voice was quivering.

  Annie nodded. “I’m Anne Powell,” she declared. “One of Murray’s associates.”

  “Irvin Weinstock,” Dr. Weinstock said. “DDS.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Annie said. “So you’re going to be on the Charlie Dare show.”

  “I guess so,” Dr. Weinstock said. “Murray just called and said Dare asked for me specifically. Murray said he has a history of gum disease in his family, but that he was sensitive about it, so I shouldn’t mention it outright to him. But naturally he was interested in my book.”

  “Anybody would be,” Annie said. “Gum disease can lead to so many awful things.”

  “That it can,” Dr. Weinstock said. “So you know about gum disease? I don’t suppose you’ve read my book.”

  “I’m afraid I haven’t,” Annie said. “Between school and my job, I have so little time for reading.”

  “You should always make time for reading,” Dr. Weinstock declared. “I like poetry myself. It’s such a nice change of pace from staring into people’s mouths.”

  “I can imagine,” Annie replied. She was sure she’d get tired of staring into people’s mouths if she were a dentist.

  Before they knew it, they had arrived at the radio station. Annie handed over the money for the fare, feeling very grown up doing so, and escorted Dr. Weinstock in, introducing him to the receptionist and then following him into Charlie Dare’s office, where once again Annie introduced Dr. Weinstock and herself.

  Charlie Dare turned out to look exactly like he sounded, young and slick. He took Dr. Weinstock’s hand, assured him that gum disease was an issue of great importance to his listeners, and went over quickly with Dr. Weinstock the sorts of questions he’d ask and what the format of the show would be. He also managed to get Dr. Weinstock’s copy of Gum Disease—The Silent Killer away from Dr. Weinstock, and ushered them out of his office, so they could get a cup of coffee before Dr. Weinstock had to go on the air. That presumably gave him time to skim through the book, so he could sound as though he’d read it. Annie enjoyed seeing a professional at work.

  Fifteen minutes later, when Charlie Dare and Dr. Weinstock began discussing gum disease, it sounded as though Charlie was an expert on the subject. His questions were pertinent, and friendly enough that Dr. Weinstock sounded as though he were at a dinner party, talking about a topic of mutual interest.

  Annie waited until Charlie announced it was time for people to call in, and then she used Charlie’s own phone to call in with her question. Her stomach hurt at the thought of having to make the call, but she knew it was part of her job. “I have a question for Doctor Weinstock,” she said, still trying to feel like Ashley.

  “The topic is gum disease,” Charlie declared. “Yes, we have a phone call. Who’s calling, please?”

  “My name is Charlene,” Annie said, figuring that was the sort of name Ashley would have chosen. “And I have a question for Dr. Weinstock.”

  “Certainly, Charlene,” Charlie said.

  “Yes, Charlene,” Dr. Weinstock said, sounding, Annie noted, almost as slick as Charlie. “You have a question about gum disease.”

  “Is is true that gum disease is one way that AIDS can be transmitted from one person to another?” Annie asked. She’d been rehearsing the question for the past ten minutes, and she liked the way it sounded.

  “I’m glad you asked that, Charlene,” Dr. Weinstock said. “There’s been a lot of talk about gum disease an
d AIDS. But none of the research indicates that there’s any connection at all between the two. Gum disease is indeed a silent killer, but it kills in other, equally insidious ways. Do you suffer from gum disease, Charlene?”

  “My husband does,” Annie replied. “That’s why I was worried about AIDS.”

  “Gum disease is not contagious,” Dr. Weinstock assured her. “And in its early stages, gum disease can be controlled, even cured. Is your husband undergoing treatment?”

  It was hard to know what to answer. “He keeps things from me,” Annie declared. “I think he’s embarrassed.”

  “How’s his breath?” Dr. Weinstock asked.

  “Pretty bad,” Annie admitted.

  “Well, Charlene, that is a symptom of gum disease, but not of AIDS,” Dr. Weinstock replied. “Let me take this chance to tell all your listeners, Charlie, that if they have recurring bad breath, the answer isn’t buying another type of mouthwash. A trip to the dentist may well cure the problem forever.”

  “We have to break now for a commercial,” Charlie said. “Probably a mouthwash ad, with my luck. Thanks for calling, Charlene. And tell your husband to start sharing his problems with you. Secrecy has killed more than one marriage.”

  “I will, thank you,” Annie said, hanging up the phone, and then shaking with silent laughter. If she ever had a husband, and he had bad breath, she’d be sure to tell him. But only if she changed her name to Charlene first.

  She turned the radio back on and listened for Murray’s phone call. Sure enough, he was concerned about gum disease and herpes. No connection there either, but Murray was persistent, and he managed to make the process of getting gum disease sound positively desirable. Dr. Weinstock kept insisting it wasn’t contagious, but that didn’t stop Murray. He must have mentioned herpes a half dozen times in five minutes, and he managed to slip AIDS in twice as well.

  By the time Murray’s wife called, Dr. Weinstock had fielded dozens of questions about gum disease. Most of the people calling had sensible gum disease sorts of questions to ask, but a few harped on herpes. They didn’t sound like put-on questions either, just people inspired by Charlene and Marco, which was the name Murray had used. Annie marveled at how easily Dr. Weinstock managed to slip in the title Gum Disease—The Silent Killer. If there was a rush on the book at the local bookstores, Annie would certainly know why.

  Dr. Weinstock met her back at Charlie’s office when the interview was over. His face was glowing from perspiration and excitement. “You were terrific,” Annie told him. “You really sounded smooth.”

  “That was so exciting,” he replied, and he grinned happily. “It was like taking an oral exam where you know all the answers.”

  “You certainly sounded professional,” Annie assured him. “Have you ever done any radio work before?”

  “In college,” he said. “But I remembered a lot of tricks. You know, breathing deeply, that sort of thing.”

  “It certainly showed,” Annie told him. “I feel honored to be associated with you.”

  “Thank you,” Dr. Weinstock said. “Well, I suppose the time has come to go back to the real world.”

  “I guess so,” Annie said, sorry to leave Charlie’s office. She put on her jacket, after handing Dr. Weinstock his coat, and the two of them walked out of the radio station together, but not before everybody came up to the doctor and congratulated him on his performance.

  Annie felt happy for him, and happy for Murray as well. If this was what public relations work was all about, then she could understand why Murray liked it so much. Dr. Weinstock seemed about three inches taller than he had when she’d first seen him.

  They took a cab back to his house, and as he got out, Dr. Weinstock thanked her for accompanying him. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he said. “I was a nervous wreck when Murray called to say I was going to be on today.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Annie told him.

  “Thanks again,” he said. “And thank Charlene for me too.”

  “I’ll do that,” Annie said, and shared a smile with him. Once she’d gotten over her nervousness, it had been fun. And the nervousness made it exciting, the way it had been sometimes at Image. The school paper had been fun, but it was never exciting in that way. And she was being paid for it too. It was remarkable how good life could be when you made anger work for you.

  Chapter 7

  Annie surveyed the television studio and marveled at how much her life had changed in a week. She had gone from one of the true low spots to a sense of total control and happiness in just seven days. It occurred to her she might write a book, telling people just as miserable as she had been how to change things around. All it took was a job, a new boyfriend, understanding parents, and lots of luck. She laughed at herself, and decided a simple fan letter to the author of Make Your Anger Work for You would suffice.

  “Hi, Annie,” Stacy Livingston said, walking over to her. “I’m glad you could join us today.”

  “It worked out for the best,” Annie assured her.

  “I’m glad it did for somebody,” Stacy replied. “The head of the nurses’ union turned out to be loud-mouthed, obnoxious, and rude, with absolutely nothing new to say about the strike, which ended the next day anyway. What a waste of our time and yours.”

  Annie was pleased to hear it, but she merely smiled sympathetically. “It’s hard to control these things,” she declared. “I know the Charlie Dare show had to get a guest real fast last night because of a mixup in arrangements.”

  “Were you on Charlie’s show?” Stacy asked.

  “No,” Annie said. “I have a job with a public relations firm that handles the man Charlie Dare got as a replacement. That’s all.”

  “That’s new, isn’t it,” Stacy said. “The job, I mean.”

  “Since last week,” Annie said. “I needed something to fill out my days.”

  “I used to be young like that,” Stacy declared. “Eight, ten years ago, I had energy too. Now I work, and I run, and I wonder where the day goes. No, sometimes I read the newspaper too, and then I wonder where the day goes.”

  “I guess I have that to look forward to,” Annie said. “I have eight years to prepare?”

  “If you’re lucky,” Stacy replied. “As far as what you have to look forward to this morning, we’ve changed the format. We’re putting you on with another guest, Dick Weatherbee. Dick is quarterback on one of the local high school teams, and he’s being recruited by all the major colleges. We thought it would be an interesting contrast. You’ll go on first, and then Dick, but you’ll stay on while Dick’s being interviewed. And feel free to talk up. Don’t interrupt Dick if he actually has something to say, but we have cut down on your interview time so feel free to talk during his. Do you follow me?”

  “I think so,” Annie replied. “I can be conversational, but not rude.”

  “That’s it exactly,” Stacy said. “Dan will be asking you questions about the sort of things you did for Image. We want the audience to get a feel for the kind of girl Image picked out of the thousands who apply. So smile a lot, answer honestly, and charm the pants off of Boston. Think you can do that?”

  “I’d better be able to,” Annie replied. Her stomach was churning, and she would have thrown up on the spot, except that the image of Torey flashed through her mind. And Torey would never let a simple little television interview faze her.

  “All right, then,” Stacy said. “You’ll be on following this commercial break. Just relax and let Dan do the work. He’s a fabulous interviewer.”

  Annie gave Stacy one final smile, and told herself that she could always bring up gum disease and AIDS if nothing else came up for discussion. She wished Murray were there to help her though, or Chris, or Robin and Ashley and Torey. Actually, she realized with a start, she wished anybody at all were there to help. She knew just how Dr. Weinstock had felt.

  She tried to remember what he’d said about deep breathing, but she didn’t think he’d said very much at all
, except to breathe deeply. She was beginning to feel a little more relaxed from the deep breathing when she realized Dan Patterson was introducing her, somebody gave her a little push on stage, and she walked out, trying to control her nerves. She spotted the cameras and noticed how hot things were under the lights.

  “Welcome, Annie,” Dan said, as she managed to find the seat next to his. “And congratulations on your Image internship.”

  “Thank you, Dan,” Annie said, trying hard not to squint.

  “You were with Image for two months,” Dan said. “Did they work you hard?”

  “As a matter of fact they did,” Annie replied. She decided to make eye contact with Dan and trust the camera operators to follow her around. “Most of what I did at the office was gofer jobs, just being generally useful. But they also let me try my hand at the actual editing of articles.”

  “Do you mean that when teenagers buy an issue of Image, they might be reading articles you edited yourself?” Dan asked.

  “One article at least,” Annie said. “It’s a tradition at Image that one article be written by an intern, and edited by another one. This year, Torey Jones, the writing intern, interviewed Jennifer Fitzhugh, the star of Highwater, and I edited that article.”

  “That must have been very exciting for you,” Dan said.

  “Actually it turned out to be exciting for Torey,” Annie declared.

  “How so?” Dan asked, smiling at her.

  “Jennifer Fitzhugh was so shocked that Torey’s family didn’t own a TV set that she gave them both a twenty five-inch color TV and a satellite dish!”

  “This Torey must be quite a person,” Dan said.

  Annie smiled. “We roomed together this summer, and she is someone very special. She’ll be the cover girl on the February issue of Image. That’s the intern issue.”

  “Did anybody give you anything special?” Dan asked. “Did you return from New York with a satellite dish of your own?”

  “Just memories,” Annie replied. “And professional experience as an editor.”