The Six O'clock News Slot

Being the television professional that he was, Ted realized that the cameras were still rolling, and he grabbed Carol and cautioned her in a low voice not to say anything else. He grabbed her arm and half-led, half-pulled her away toward the resort. The camera held the focus on her gleaming, oiled buttocks as she stalked angrily away.

The local announcer came back on the screen. "And there you have it. Carol Martin and Ted Stevenson, who've been missing all week, were found to have been sharing a room at a swank Gulf Shores resort. And in the latest development, Carol's husband has slapped her with a suit for divorce and kicked her out of their house. We tried to get her husband for comment, but were unable to reach him."

Indeed they were unable to reach me because Susan and I were safely ensconced at my parent's farm, and I was going to keep it that way through the weekend. While that meant I was safe for the moment from prying reporters, my only means of keeping up with developments was through Lou.

Lou learned from his contact at the other Birmingham tv station that Carol had foolishly failed to believe the process server when he told her I'd had the locks changed, so she had Ted drive her over to our house. That was a double mistake, because not only would her key no longer work in the door, but the other tv news had stationed a camera crew to keep an eye on the house, and her embarrassment and frustration were all caught on camera.

It got worse. She and Ted next drove to Ted's house, not thinking of the consequences. Missy met him at the door with a set of her own divorce papers, and told Ted not to bother coming back. There was a camera crew there as well, and Ted's humiliation was incorporated into the news story for all to see.

In desperation, the two of them sped off, trying to lose the tail of reporters, and eventually spent the night at a motel off of Interstate 65, halfway to Tennessee.

For the next chapter in the story, Lou had to rely on our Media Manager, who in turn got the story from his contact at WXYY. Don Sanchez, the WXYY News Director, had finally made it back to Birmingham on Saturday afternoon, and had been trying to contact Carol and Ted without success. They, of course, were returning from Gulf Shores with their cellphones turned off to avoid calls from other news reporters. Don wasn't even able to leave a message – both Carol's and Ted's mailbox had topped out on voicemail.

The result of all this was a very angry news director. His temperament was not improved when someone showed him a recording of his rival network's Saturday evening news exclusive. It wasn't until Sunday afternoon that Ted thought to call in to the office, at which time Don summarily ordered the two co-anchors to come to the studio immediately.

The two of them hopped back in Ted's car and immediately set out for the WXYY studio. When they arrived, they found the remote broadcast van from their rival station parked across the street, so they had to drive around to the back of the building and sneak up the service elevator. The result of this little maneuver was that they walked headlong and unannounced into a meeting Don was holding with the rest of his staff.

Apparently, the shouting began immediately, with Don lambasting the pair for their "stupid, slutty behavior" and Carol and Ted attempting to defend themselves. Finally, Don had had enough, and in front of the entire group he told Carol and Ted they were fired.

"What?" Carol screeched. "You can't do that. We have a contract."

Don had now shifted into executive mode, and he responded very coolly. "If you'll check those contracts, you'll see that they include a morals clause requiring you to conduct yourself in a manner appropriate to community standards."

"What we do in private is no one else's business," Carol snapped back.

Don, who was a practicing Catholic, stood up and leaned over his desk at her. "When I went to Mass this morning at the Cathedral, the priest's homily was on the sanctity of marriage and the sin of adultery. He didn't mention you two by name, but he did refer to the poor example set by certain public figures in our city."

Carol recoiled at the idea she had become the subject of sermons locally, but Ted was still indignant, and he rushed on where wiser heads would have kept silent. "But nobody knows about us, or cares, for that matter."

Now Don became sarcastic. "Obviously, you didn't see the news on the other news stations last night. I suggest you get a copy and watch it. But there's no reason to wait for that, just take a look out the window." With that he strode over to the window behind his desk and pulled back the curtain.

There across the street was one of the promotional billboards featuring the now infamous co-anchors. Carol glanced at the sign quickly, then did a double-take and peered at it more closely. "Oh my God!" she gasped. A vandal with a lot of nerve and a can of spray paint had defaced the sign. He hadn't done much, just obliterated a part of the text, but now the sign proudly pronounced "Birmingham's Choice for the Six O'clock News Slut."

Don let the curtain fall and turned back to the now silent pair. In a formal tone, he said, "Your behavior has embarrassed this station and done irreparable harm to our ratings and our reputation. I have no choice but to pull you from the air and terminate your contracts immediately."

He paused, and then said bitterly, "Have you ever seen the original Frankenstein?"

Confused by the change of subject, the two of them nodded uncertainly.

"Well, right now," Don went on, "you're the monster, and the people of Birmingham are the angry mob. If I were you, I'd get out of town as quick as possible."

I was very apprehensive as Susan and I drove back to Birmingham on Sunday evening. I'd deliberately left late in hopes of avoiding any confrontations either with Carol or the news media. As a result, I had heard the news about Carol's and Ted's dismissal on the Sunday evening news. But as I pulled up to our garage, it appeared that, having won a famous victory, the opposing news teams had decided to leave the field of battle.

I also caught a break the next morning when the Birmingham News headlined a new scandal about a city politician caught dipping into public funds. That story pushed Ted and Carol onto the back pages and started the reporters on a new witch hunt. Apparently, no one cared about the reaction of the irate husband any more.

I took Susan over to Mrs. Alsop's house that morning. When I got there, Mrs. Alsop greeted me at the door and wrapped her arms around Susan protectively. "Go on in, honey," she said to her. "My kids have missed you; they want to play."

When Susan had run off to join her little friends, Mrs. Alsop turned back to me with a sympathetic look. "I was so sad to hear of everything that's happened, Tom. I hope you and Susan are going to be okay."

I thanked her for her sympathy, but I really didn't have an answer to the question about how things were going to work out for us. I did think it was telling that she hadn't included Carol in her concern.

When I got to the office, everyone was nice, but I could tell they were avoiding me. It was like I had an incurable disease and no one knew what to say. The exception, of course, was Lou. He hugged me, and I hugged him back just as hard.

"You're a genius," I told him. "You're the master of the viral campaign."

"Well," he said, "it worked, better than we had a right to hope for. The only bad thing is we can never tell anyone what we did."

"That's just as well," I replied. "I know that this is going to come back on me, and I'm ready for that. By now, Carol must have figured out that I had to be the source of that video, and she's going to come after me with guns blazing. I don't want you to get hit in the crossfire."

As it turned out, I was too pessimistic in my expectations. My attorney called me later in the week to tell me that Carol had decided not to contest the divorce.

"But why?" I asked him. "She'd already told me what she was going to do if I filed – what happened?"

"I had a chat with Carol's attorney, and she told me the rest of the story," he said. "Carol wanted to counter-sue for divorce plus sue you for invasion of privacy, but her attorney talked her out of it. She pointed out that there are legal questions about whether or not a person can legally record the conversation of his or her spouse. Those questions get even more tangled when one spouse is a television personality, a very public figure. Basically, she told Carol her suit might well have to go all the way to the Supreme Court before it was finally resolved. She also reminded Carol that she was not a very popular figure these days. She'd be hard pressed to find a sympathetic jury to hear her case."

"But what about Susan?" I asked. "Carol swore that she would try to take her away from me."

My attorney snorted. "Tom, your soon-to-be ex-wife is unemployed. Her chances for resuming her career, not only in Birmingham but in the state of Alabama, are absolutely nil. In fact, I don't think she could land a broadcasting job anywhere in the Southeast after the publicity she's had. She's now the poster child for unfaithful wives. With a reputation for immoral living, without a steady job and with no prospects in the entire region, what judge would possibly award custody of a young child to her?"

"The bottom line is that Carol is leaving town as quickly as she can get out. You'll still have to divide any proceeds from the house when it's sold, which can be any time between now and when Susan turns 18. And Carol will still have visitation rights on holidays and birthdays. But she's relinquishing custody to you because she really has no hope of getting anything else."

"The only thing she wants is to be allowed to enter the house to get her personal possessions before she leaves town. And one other thing, Tom, she'd like the chance to talk to you when she comes to your house."

"If she'll sign the papers on those terms, I guess I can stand to talk to her before she leaves town," I told him. We agreed that would take place the end of the week.

So it was done: I really had gotten everything I'd wanted. No, that isn't true, what I really wanted was to have my life and my family back together the way they were before all this terrible mess happened. But that was wishful thinking – once the avalanche starts, there's really nothing that can stop it. But at least I had my daughter, and that was the only thing that really mattered to me.

Lou and Edy and I celebrated over dinner the next night. Susan had come along, and she was now asleep in one of their beds while the adults continued the party. Actually, it wasn't really a party, just a chance for the three of us to reflect on all that had happened.

I'd brought a bottle of the most expensive champagne I could find to toast my friends and thank them for their loyalty. Edy, in turn, raised a glass to the two of us. "Guys," she said, "when I heard about your scheme, I thought you were crazy. I thought it would blow up in your faces and we'd have a major mess on our hands. The only thing that kept me from objecting was the fact that you – here she saluted me – were fighting for your little girl and had no place else to turn to. And you, my loving husband, were so convinced you could pull this off. So here's to the both of you: for fighting when you had to and winning in the face of long odds."

"Here, here," Lou and I agreed in unison.

There was one more thing I felt I had to do before the whole sordid mess could be considered done: check on Missy Stevenson. If ever there was an innocent bystander, it was she, yet I knew she was suffering as much or more than anyone else involved. And I felt a little guilty that I had dragged her into this mess, even though I had no choice and even though Ted was the real culprit. But at least I had had the chance to decide to act; Missy had never seen it coming.

I called to ask if I could come by, and she invited me to have lunch, so I felt she must not hold too strong a grudge against me. We met at a quiet neighborhood restaurant, and after the waiter had taken our orders, I asked her how she was doing.

"Not very well, I'm afraid, Tom," she answered. "I still can't believe that all this has happened. One day I'm happily married to a handsome, successful tv personality, the next I'm getting divorced from a bastard who lied and cheated and humiliated me in front of the entire city."

"I know, Missy," I consoled her. "It's all so unbelievable. I feel like I've been transported into a bad soap opera on daytime tv."

She wanted to know what was going on with Carol and me, so I told her the outcome of our divorce. "Good," she said vindictively, "she's getting exactly what she deserved."

"And what about Ted?" I asked her. "What's happening with the two of you?"

"That coward," she replied bitterly, "he didn't have the courage or the courtesy to face me. He just left town, telling his attorney to give me whatever I wanted. I have no idea where he's gone, and I could care less. Except, of course, that I keep waking up in the night and reaching for him, before I remember what's happened."

She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.

"Are you going to be okay financially?" I asked.

"Yes and no," she said. "He's left me the house, but it's way too big for me to live in alone. And we have a big mortgage and no real equity, so I don't think I can afford to keep it anyway. Ted's supposed to be paying me alimony, but, to be honest, I'm not counting on it. He can only pay if he finds a new job, and my friends have warned me that's not going to be easy for him to do."

She sighed, "All in all, I think the smartest thing for me to do is to move back in with my folks for a while, try to find a job, and start rebuilding my life." She paused. "This isn't the way my life was supposed to turn out," she said sadly.

I felt terrible for her. She was a sweet girl who had done nothing to deserve this. I begged her to stay in touch and let me know where she wound up. I really like Missy and hoped she'd catch a break. She deserved one.

That left only Carol's visit, and I wasn't looking forward to it. A lot of the anger and resentment I'd felt before had subsided in the wake of the success of our viral video campaign. I felt as though I'd won back my manhood, at least somewhat, and now I had no need to fight with her any more nor to gloat over my victory.

As a result, I decided to do something nice for Carol: I arranged to have Susan with me when it was time for Carol to come. As Carol got out of the SUV she'd rented to haul her clothes and other personal belongings, I saw the scowl on her face. But when I opened the door and let Susan run to her, the scowl disappeared into smiles and happy tears. As Susan threw her arms around her mother's neck and hugged her desperately, Carol looked up at me and mouthed, "Thank you."

They came inside and Carol proceeded to play with Susan for quite a while. The visit was officially supposed to last only an hour, but I had mentally thrown that time out the window when I decided to have Susan there.

Once Susan had exhausted her inventory of things she had wanted to show and tell her mother, Carol suggested she go upstairs to her room and play. "I'll be up there soon, baby. Daddy and I have to talk first."

Once Susan had left, Carol turned to me somewhat grudgingly and said, "Thank you for that. I really hadn't expected you'd let me see her."

I simply nodded. Carol's mood changed visibly. "I can't believe you did all that to me. You used a private conversation between the two of us to ruin me, to make me the laughing stock of the city. How could you do that?"

I sighed. "Carol, I don't want to fight with you any more – there's nothing to be gained for either of us."

"That's easy for you to say," she shot back, "you're the winner. You've cost me my job, my family and my future – all to protect your fragile little ego!"

"Carol, I said I wasn't going to fight with you and I meant it. I just want you to think about one thing: nothing would have happened if you hadn't decided to satisfy your own wishes and desires, regardless of anyone or anything else. Everything that's happened you've brought on yourself."

Carol opened her mouth to respond, but at that moment Susan called out to her, asking when she was going to come upstairs. Carol glared at me for a moment more, than turned on her heel and went up to see her daughter.

After playing in Susan's room for a while, Carol took her daughter over to our bedroom and began to pack while continuing to talk to Susan. I could hear their happy chatter from down below. Finally, Carol came back downstairs dragging her suitcases, with Susan tagging along behind.

Carol set her bags upright and then turned and knelt in front of her daughter. Taking Susan's shoulders in her hands, Carol told her, "Mommy has to go away now. I'm going to live in another state, and I won't get to see you every day. But I promise I'll see you every chance I can, and we can talk on the phone and video each other as much as you want."

Susan's cry was immediate and heartfelt, "No, Mommy, I don't want you to go!" The little girl grabbed her mother around the neck and clung to her as though she were the only life raft in the ocean. Carol picked her up and stood, holding her tightly, stoking her back and trying to soothe her. "It's okay, baby doll, I'll see you real soon and you can tell me all about what you've been doing, and we'll have such a good time."

As she spoke, she walked over to me and handed Susan to me. "Now you be a good girl and do everything that Daddy tells you to. I love you, Susan, don't you ever forget that." Then she turned, picked up her suitcases and walked briskly to the door. I could see that tears were streaming down her face, but she wouldn't allow herself to look back. Instead, she walked directly to her car, loaded the bags in the back, and drove off with a quick wave.

I held my sobbing daughter and my own tears running down my cheeks. I was startled to realize that they were for my loss as much as for my daughter's. My little girl was losing her mother, and I was losing my wife.

Finally, I put Susan down. "Listen," I said, "I have an idea."

"What, Daddy?" she asked tearfully.

"Why don't we go over to the park and see if the ducks are there? And after we've done that, maybe we can find the ice cream man and get an ice cream cone. Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes," she replied immediately, "and we can feed the cones to the ducks, can't we Daddy?"

"Sure we can," I replied.

It was a great relief to be able to divert Susan from her sorrow. I knew that there would be many times when she would miss her mother and miss having a female presence in our home. But I hoped that what I had heard was true: that young children are more resilient and quicker to adapt to change than older ones. And, I thought ruefully, I hoped that I could adapt too.

The next week I learned that I would have to adapt even more than I had expected. The head of the agency called me into his office late one afternoon.

"Tom," he began, "you've done some great work for us, and we truly appreciate the contributions you've made to the agency's success."

I just waited for the "but" that I knew was coming. I didn't think I was going to like the direction this was taking.

"But the whole business with your wife has left an odor that attaches to everything around it. Clients are asking if you are Carol's husband, and it has an impact on them, even when I tell them your status. Not surprisingly, our relations with WXYY are also pretty strained, and they're a key media outlet for us."