“Tell me about your farm,” he suggested impulsively midway through dinner. He addressed the question to Mrs. Gunderson, but kept his gaze fixed on Callie. He saw the unmistakable shadow that darkened her eyes, the instantaneous blandness in her expression that told him more than any overt protest would have that she found the subject distasteful.
Callie stayed perfectly silent as her mother described the acres of corn that had surrounded their home, perfectly still at the description of the harsh winters and blisteringly hot summers.
When he finally focused his attention on Mrs. Gunderson again, he guessed from her even, unemotional tone that she was no more enamored by the life they’d led than Callie had been. He wondered if Callie heard the same vague distancing from the past that he did. He wondered if she realized that there was an adventurous spirit in her mother just waiting to be freed. Judging from her earlier comments, she did not.
He glanced at Callie again. “What is your favorite memory of living on the farm?”
“Leaving,” she said succinctly.
Her mother looked as if she’d been slapped. Callie saw it the same instant he did.
“Mother, I’m sorry, but you know it’s true.”
Regina Gunderson managed a sad smile. “You were always so eager to go. I never understood how someone who’d never known anything but farm life could long so for places they’d never been. Eunice was like your daddy, content to live her whole life in one place. You running off like you did broke your daddy’s heart.”
“I didn’t ‘run off,’ as you put it,” Callie retorted defensively. “I went away to college.”
“And never came back, not even on school vacations.”
“I had to work to pay for school. You know that.”
Jason sensed it was an old and bitterly fought argument. He regretted now pursuing the subject at all, but it did tell him quite a lot about Callie. He realized now why she had battled so fiercely not to admit failure as a stockbroker and why, ultimately, she had succumbed to his pressure. It was the only option she’d felt she had left to avoid going back to that farm she so clearly hated, to avoid admitting that she’d been defeated by the big city.
There were more undercurrents between the two women; Jason had no doubt about that. He feared any topic he broached might pull them all into deep and perilous waters. He could understand that, too. His own rare meetings with his mother were strained. Conversations skimmed over polite, indifferent topics because neither of them dared to stray onto more personal turf.
Maybe, as he’d promised earlier, what they all needed right now was a stimulating, intellectual battle over television. He figured he could easily hold his own against any derisive comments Mrs. Gunderson might direct his way.
“So, Mrs. Gunderson, tell me what you watch on TV,” he suggested, ignoring the gentle, warning kick Callie directed his way under the table.
“Farm reports and the weather,” she said flatly. “The rest’s a bunch of nonsense.”
“Told you so,” Callie murmured.
Jason persisted, anyway. “You haven’t even sneaked a peak at Within Our Reach since your daughter’s been on?” Her immediate blush told him he’d hit a nerve. “She’s terrific on the show, isn’t she?”
“I’m no judge of whether she is or she isn’t,” Mrs. Gunderson replied, carefully evading Callie’s transparently hopeful gaze.
The terse comment confirmed his guess without offering her daughter so much as a smidgen of praise. Jason grew more determined to drag a compliment out of her. If ever he’d seen a woman in need of parental approval, Callie was it. She was blinking furiously in a near-futile attempt to hide her tears.
“You know, we’re really counting on her at the network,” he said. “I think Callie has the talent to become a superstar, if that’s what she wants.”
Mrs. Gunderson regarded him skeptically. “Callie, a star?”
“If that’s what she wants,” he repeated firmly.
“What I want is to change the subject,” Callie stated. “There’s no point in trying to talk television with Mother. She’s never approved of it.”
He directed a look straight into Mrs. Gunderson’s blue eyes. “Why is that?”
“Like my husband always said, it’s a waste of time.”
“That’s what he thought,” Jason persisted. “What about you?”
“I just said,” she retorted irritably.
“No, you echoed his opinion. Do you share it?”
“For goodness’ sake, young man, I said I did, didn’t I?”
Callie touched his hand with another light, warning gesture. Jason pretended he hadn’t gotten the message.
“You could really do me a huge favor,” he said.
Mrs. Gunderson regarded him warily. “What would that be?”
“Take a look at Within Our Reach over the next few days,” he requested blandly. “Tell me what you think. I’d really like to hear your opinion.”
“Why mine?”
Because he wanted her to watch Callie. He wanted her to appreciate the talent, the emotional depth her daughter was displaying on the show. And he wanted her to admit it aloud, not so much to him, but to Callie. Clearly, though, he couldn’t say that.
“Because you obviously represent the segment of the audience we haven’t been reaching,” he said instead. “I’d like to know if there’s something we could do that would capture your attention, maybe a certain kind of character or story line that you’d like to see.”
“I may not like it at all,” she warned him. “And I won’t be shy about telling you so.”
Jason grinned. “I can take it.”
“I just hope I can,” Callie muttered.
“No need to worry, sweetheart,” he said. “You’ve already won over the only audience that counts.”
“Oh?”
“Sure. That would be me.”
The comment finally coaxed a half smile from her. “That’ll last how long?” she inquired drily. “Until the ratings start to slide again?”
“I’m not that fickle,” he denied. Besides, he had a sinking feeling that she was going to be twisting
