Point Counterpoint

by Fiona Wilde

"Maybe that's because I accept and live the natural order of things," he replied. "Men are the natural leaders, Jill. We can debate this till the cows come home but you can't change biology. You're swimming against the tide and all that will ever do is exhaust you."

  He was right, of course, and she could feel it in her bones. The very act of defying him had left her emotionally and physically drained and yet his domination of her and her ultimate submission left a feeling of languid contentment in its place. She was almost asleep when he straightened his body out by hers and held her close, the length of their bodies touching from cheek to toe. Chadwick seemed to understand that at that moment Jill needed holding, not sex, so he held her there, murmuring reassurances until she fell asleep.

  Part II

  "What a crock," Lois Sharp snorted as she and Jill prepared for the show. "I can't believe there are still enough stupid people left in the world to join groups like this."

  "Excuse me?" Jill had been lost in thought, mentally replaying the previous night's events, that morning's lovemaking and the quiet breakfast she and Chadwick had shared at her kitchen table.

  "Where are you this morning?" Lois asked with a laugh. "Do you realize this is the second time I've spoken to you only to be ignored? I didn't know I was signing on to work for a ghost."

  Jill sighed. "I'm sorry, Lois. I've just got a lot on my mind." She put her head in her hands.

  "Anything you want to share?" the older woman asked. "I've taken enough trips around the block to have gathered a bit of knowledge along the way."

  Jill took her hands away from her face and looked at Lois. "If I tell you do you promise not to be mad?"

  "Oh God, you're not a Republican are you?"

  "No," said Jill, laughing a little. "It's not nearly as disturbing as that. But it's almost as disturbing."

  "Then dish," said Lois. "Since I stopped working as a receptionist I'm starved for juicy news. When I was a receptionist, people used to talk around me like I wasn't there. I found out all sort of things. But if you want to merely confide in me I suppose I can settle for that."

  "Alright," said Jill quietly, even though the door was closed. "There really is no way to ease into this." She paused. "I'm having a relationship with Brad Chadwick."

  Lois sat back hard in her chair. "Good Lord. Are you serious, Jill?"

  "Yes," Jill said.

  "Well, that explains a lot," said Lois. "The daydreaming, sending me on errands whenever he stops by, your faltering during debates..."

  The last one stung. "Do you really think I'm faltering, Lois?"

  "Yes," she said in her blunt manner.

  The two women were quiet for a moment.

  "You disapprove," said Jill.

  "Why does my opinion matter?" asked Lois. "I'm just your assistant."

  "Bullshit, Lois," Jill said. "We clicked the moment you met and at this moment you're the one person at ANN that I actually trust."

  Lois raised an eyebrow. "You don't trust Chadwick?"

  Jill took a deep breath. "I want to, Lois. I really do. When he took me to see my sister after her accident - that's when it started - we talked the entire way and I got to see the man beneath the politics. Ideologically, we're poles apart, but he understands me, Lois. He understands the core of who I am. He knows what I secretly want and why I've been afraid to look for it."

  "And let me guess. What you want is a he-man to sweep you off your feet."

  "God, is it that obvious?" Jill asked. "My sister guessed it right off the bat, too. Do I have "closet submissive" stamped on my forehead?"

  "Well if you do you won't stand out in a crowd," said Lois. "I'd wager a lot of women of your generation are looking for the same kind of man. But they don't make 'em like they used to, or so the old saying goes. Personally I think he-man types are more attractive now because they are such a rare commodity."

  "You don't think there's an innate need in some woman for an old-fashioned guy?" Jill asked.

  "I'm not saying that," said Lois. "But when I was young that was all there was to choose from, and what you see as charming and chivalrous my generation saw as oppressive. Then along came the feminist movement with the message that men weren't supposed to be manly and women weren't supposed to want manly men. Now that women are finally realizing that might be what they want, they realize there aren't many manly men left."

  "Yeah," Jill sighed. "But that still leaves me with the burning question: Why do I, as a feminist, want an oppressive man?"

  "Who says he has to be oppressive?" Lois laughed. "We saw those men as oppressive, but that doesn't mean we were right. Oh, sure there were a lot of oppressive men and the feminist movement was correct to push for women's rights. But it was wrong to paint every old-fashioned guy who believed in holding open doors or bringing home the bacon as a troglodyte. There are a lot of good, chivalrous men who are old-fashioned. Personally, I think much of what Brad Chadwick beliefs would be best left buried somewhere for archaeologists to find later. But if he can separate his right wing thinking from how he treats a lady, who am I to say that he's not good partner potential?"

  "You make me feel so much better," Jill said, breathing a sigh of relief.

  "Geesh, girl, don't say that," Lois snapped. "Stop looking to everyone else to give you some stamp of approval on what you want and need. If Brad Chadwick makes you happy, then you do what you have to do to keep him. Just remember that you can have him - just as he is - without sacrificing yourself in the process. Surrender doesn't have to mean sacrifice. But I think you already know that."

  "I'd say I'm learning that," said Jill. "It's just a lot to sort through, and right now we have a show to prepare for."

  "Do we ever," said Lois, sliding the folder across to her. "Now, get a gander at tonight's guest. Like I said, there must be a lot of stupid people left in the world if this kook has a following."

  Part III

  "Good evening. I'm Brad Chadwick"

  "And I'm Jill Parmele"

  "And this is Loggerheads!"

  Jill pivoted towards the camera. "Tonight's guest is Kevin Peck, founder of a group called Men Only, which advocates - if you can believe this - a return to an all-male workforce." Jill picked up a flier on the table in front of her. "And, if I'm reading this correctly, Mr. Peck, 'a demand by the men of this country that women return to their rightful place in the home.'"

  She laid the flier down and looked at her guest who, surprisingly enough, was not a toothless hick but a handsome well-dressed man with salt-and-pepper hair.

  "You do know," she continued, "that the problem with you little chauvinistic utopian vision is that current laws will never allow it."

  Peck raised an elegant finger. "Ah, but there's the rub, Ms. Parmele. You said 'current' laws would prevent this and of course, you're right. But laws can and have been repealed. And that's what we're working for."

  Brad Chadwick jumped in. "Now, Mr. Peck. Let me just clarify this a little for the audience. According to what I've read about your movement, your motivation isn't some hatred of women, but rather a desire to see families strengthened."

  "That's right, Mr. Chadwick," the guest said. "Although I've been branded a misogynist, the truth is that I love women. I'm married sixteen years this month in fact and my wife is my best friend and greatest asset. But that's because we each know our place and work within it. I bring home the bacon and she keeps the home and tends to our four children, just as it was intended."

  "Intended by whom?" Jill interjected with a laugh.

  "By God," Peck said. "It's in the Bible, Ms. Parmele, should you ever care to read it."

  "I have read it," said Jill coolly. "And I seem to remember in Proverbs 31 the ideal woman is portrayed as a working woman who engages in trade and earns money."

  "You're taking it out of context." Peck said with a shake of his head. "The book of Timothy clearly states that women should be keepers at home."

  "Titus," said Jill.

  "Excuse me?" asked Peck.
/>   "That verse is in Titus. 2 Titus, actually." Jill said with a too-sweet smile. Early in her career, when she found herself debating scripture-flinging right-wingers, she read the Bible through and through and was surprised at how often those who used the Bible as a weapon ended up misquoting it." She noted now, to her pleasure, that the tactic had reduced her opponent to red-faced silence.

  "Mr. Peck, I think the fact that we can't even agree demonstrates why we're not a theocracy but a nation of laws and like it or not, those laws protect the right of women in the workplace."

  As always, Chadwick swooped in to help salvage the right wing guest. "That's fine, Ms. Parmele. Let's discuss the laws then, or rather the effect of them. Now Mr. Peck, while you just cited the Bible, that's not the crux of your argument, is it?"

  "No sir. The crux is not so much Biblical as social. Women's absence from the home has not only affected the family, but denigrated wages as well. The influx of bored females into offices and factories caused wages to tank. It's a simple issue of supply and demand. An increased pool of workers - including some you can hire for less than the going rate - drags everybody down. When a bunch of vulnerable, weak women entered the workplace, most employers who hired them didn't really take them seriously. So before long they didn't take the whole of the workforce seriously."

  "Oh, please," said Jill. "You could use the same argument against minorities, Mr. Peck. And has it occurred to you that an employer who would mistreat women and blacks might not be exactly a person of character? What's to say the anyone could trust someone like that?"

  "Jill, no one is arguing that there are unethical employers out there," Chadwick interjected. "I think what Mr. Peck is saying is that an influx of vulnerable, below-market workers hurt the working man who only wanted to support his family."

  "Exactly," said Peck hastily. "And the lowered overall wages have made it hard for a man to support his family, and that, in turn, as forced women who want to stay home out into the workforce."

  "And your solution to this is to ban women from working - even the ones who want to work," said Jill. "Do you think that's fair?"

  "Maybe trying to be fair to everyone is what's ruining this country," retorted Peck. "If women married and made their families their career instead of listening to the feminists who tell them they can only be happy in the workplace, maybe they'd realize that happiness can be found there. Do you think it's fair that feminists have bullied a whole generation of women into forsaking their families so they can sit in some cubicle and develop Powerpoint presentations?"

  "I hardly think working women are forsaking their families by working to provide their children with housing, insurance and college tuition," Jill said. "And you know, women do a lot more than - as you say - develop PowerPoint presentations. If you get in a wreck after leaving this studio the paramedic who saves your life may well be a woman."

  "Well, if it is it doesn't change the fact that she should be home with her kids," snapped Peck.

  "What if she doesn't have kids?" asked Jill. "What if she's not married? Has it occurred to you that some women aren't interested in getting married?"

  "Yes," said Peck. "They're called lesbians."

  Jill threw up her hands. "Good lord. Tell me, Mr. Peck. Does it hurt to have your knuckles drag the ground?"

  Somewhere to the left a stagehand laughed aloud.

  "Now that's uncalled for," said Chadwick.

  "I beg your pardon," said Jill, turning her co-host in irritation.

  "Now see, this is what I'm talking about," said Peck, a smirk on his face. "When challenged, women resort to emotion and it's up to a man to come in and show them the correct way to behave. Thank goodness you have a man like Brad Chadwick to stop you from going on a feminist rant in his presence. Which brings me to another point. Women aren't biologically suited to be in charge because their nature is to be submissive, to be led."

  Jill felt an uneasy feeling settle in her stomach. "I'd say that depends on the woman," Mr. Peck.

  "Nonsense," the guest said. "Show me a woman, any woman and I'll wager she's on the look out for a strong man to dominate her - even a woman like you." Peck turned to Chadwick. "Wouldn't you agree."

  Chadwick smiled at Jill, a mocking smirk on his lips. "I'd have to say that's very likely."

  Rationally Jill knew the response was meant as an inside joke, but still it felt like a slap in the face for him to refer to their secret on live television, even if no one picked up on it. For a moment she was silent and when she spoke her tone was icy.

  "Yes, but sadly the type of men worthy of leading a strong women seems to be nonexistent," she said, looking directly at Chadwick. "And men can't blame feminists for that. Ultimately, they have only themselves to blame."

  She turned to the camera. "And now over to the news desk for breaking news - the abrupt resignation of Representative Frank Cohen of Alabama who was nabbed over the weekend in a prostitution sting. Will this shift the balance of power in the House? Stay tuned to find out."

  The red light on the camera blinked and Jill turned her smile off as she unfastened her mike. Without a word to Chadwick, who was chatting with Peck, she rose from her chair and walked from the studio and into the hallway where she hoped to collect herself. She was just a hair's breadth away from bursting into tears at Chadwick's betrayal. She wondered if he realized what he had done. When he appeared a few minutes later in the hallway, she knew he did.

  "Jill," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that."

  "I know," she said. "It just seemed to come naturally to you, Brad. Which is why I feel like the biggest fool in the world. Because you know what? You're really no different than that idiot we just interviewed, no matter what I've been telling myself. You see me as nothing more than a joke on my gender. But that joke is over. It ends now."

  "Jill, this isn't the time or place to discuss this. Let's go to your office."

  "No," said Jill. "You're not telling me what to do anymore, Brad. It was a mistake for me to think I could ever let you. There's no need to talk. It's over."

  Jill turned away, feeling worse than she'd ever felt in her life. Little did she know that things were about to get even worse - much worse. Bill Shale was heading towards them, an angry look on his face. In his hand was clutched a plain manilla envelope.

  "My office. Both of you. Now," he barked.

  Jill looked back at Chadwick, her heart clenching in his chest. It didn't help that he looked just as uneasy.

  Chapter Ten

  Part I

  They didn't need to see the contents of the envelope to know what it contained.

  "It would have been nice to have at least been informed rather than find out like this," said Shale as he pulled an advance issue of The Informer and tossed it on the desk.

  "If you read the article, you'll note that it says when asked about your relationship I laughed at the reporter and told him he was full of it. Of course, as you can see I'm the one who ends up looking 'full of it.'"

  Jill reached out and pulled the tabloid towards her. Across the cover, just above a photo of her and Chadwick emerging from the hotel room was the headline, "Strange Bedfellows."

  Underneath another photo taken of the two embracing - a photo Jill realized had been shot through her kitchen window, the caption read, "Point Counterpoint co-hosts Jill Parmele and Brad Chadwick share a tender moment at her home on Monday. Is their on-air political animosity just an ANN ratings ploy?"

  "As you can imagine, this does nothing but hurt our credibility," Shale said. He turned to Jill. "You know, Miss Parmele, I hired you to debate Brad, not seduce him."

  Jill could hardly believe her ears. "What?" Her throat was so constricted the word came out in whispery squeak. When she found her voice, she couldn't help but raise it a little. "We're sitting here looking at a picture of me and Brad and you're reaction is to paint me as some sort of sex-crazed siren?"

  "Bill," Chadwick began, but Shale held up his hand.

  "I'l
l deal with your weakness in a moment, Brad. Right now I'm talking to her." He jabbed a fat finger in Jill's direction.

  "Now I'm not saying I don't fully understand," Shale said. "A good-looking, successful man like Brad, why there's not a woman out there who wouldn't put designs on him. But you seem to forget about a certain clause in your contract that forbids sleeping with your co-workers."

  He turned to Brad. "As for you, I thought you were stronger than this. Sure Jill's a good-looking broad, but that doesn't mean you had to fall between her legs just because she was willing to spread them."

  Jill was on her feet now. "Alright. You just shut your mouth, you sloppy pig. I've got something to say."

  Shale was so surprised to be verbally assaulted that he could only sputter. Jill took advantage of that sputtering to have her say.

  "You're right, Bill. Brad is weak, and he's demonstrated it by not having the backbone to stand up and say what I'm saying." She turned briefly to Brad. "It turns out I was more right about you than I thought."

  Then, she turned and placed her palms on Shale's desk.

  "You know what? I am sleeping with my co-host. Or I was. But it was by mutual decision. Only a complete idiot would shade our relationship in these ridiculous, dated assumptions. Which leads me to my second mistake."

  "And that is...?" huffed Shale.

  "Going to work for a complete idiot," said Jill. "I quit."

  Shale lumbered to his feet as Jill turned to walk out of the office. "Now wait a minute, young lady. There's no need to be hasty."

  He turned to Brad.

  "Stop her," he said. "Talk some sense into her."

  Jill turned before heading out the door and looked at Brad, who was sitting in his chair, his face a mask of fury.

  "Good," she thought. "Let him be angry. Now he knows how I feel."

  Part II

  "So what are you going to do now?" Megan asked after listening to Jill's account of the evening's events. Jill's cell phone had been ringing when she walked in the door of her apartment, the summoning of a sister who knew by the end of the show that something was wrong.