Lee W. Vibber

Final Draft written October 5, 1990
 
 

"Lee, did you get your taxes done yet?" Amanda called from the living room.

Lee, who was puttering around in the kitchen preparing a special dinner, stuck his head through the doorway and grunted a puzzled, "Hmmmm?"

"Your taxes," she said in faint exasperation. "It's almost April 15th, you know."

"It's only the second," Lee protested. "I have almost two weeks to get them in." When Amanda started to protest from her perch on the couch, he relented and smiled. "Actually, I do have them done. That's how I spent last Thursday night when you went to Jamie's basketball game." He shrugged and added, "It seemed like a good use of the time, since you were so worried about them getting done."

A bit embarrassed about having nagged, Amanda tried to explain. "It's just that this year's taxes are for the first year we were married, and I feel responsible, that's all." She gave him a grin and added, "I should have known you'd be one of those people who does his taxes the night before they're due!"

Lee gave her a look that said, "ME???"

"Yes, you," she said firmly. "And last year doesn't count as experience with you and taxes, because I was still too sick to even think to ask if you'd done them when the deadline rolled around. You will remember that my taxes were already done before we got married." She softened the smugness of her words with a smile.

Lee grinned, then said, "Well, I hate to break off this fascinating discussion about fiscal responsibility, but," and he gestured back to the kitchen, "duty calls. Look, do you want to go over my 1040 for errors before I copy it?"

"Sure. Where is it?"

"In the study, on my desk," came the reply from the depths of the kitchen. "It's on the top of the stack, you can't miss it."

Amanda left her position on the couch and disappeared into the study. Moments later she returned, carrying a sheaf of Federal income tax forms, a calculator and a pencil. She studied the forms as she walked, and as she reached the dining room, she said, "Lee? What's this?"

"What's what?" came his reply.

She absently dropped the calculator on the dining room table and moved into the kitchen. Standing next to Lee, she shoved the papers into his view. "Right here. Under 'Filing Status,' you've checked box number one, 'Single.'" She tapped the form in question with the pencil she was holding.

Lee appeared not to grasp the significance of this action. "So?" he encouraged.

"So, you're not single, you're married. I know we decided to file separate returns to keep things from getting too complicated with Mother and everything, even though we'll pay more taxes this way, but how can you say you're single when you're not?"

"What, you want me to check box number three here? 'Married, filing separate return'? Amanda, the Agency reads these things. They go through them whenever they do a security recheck, or when they're training a new internal security snoop, or even just when they feel like it!" He stirred the sauce furiously.

"So?" It was Amanda's turn to prompt.

"So, the Agency doesn't know we're married. The Agency doesn't like being lied to," Lee said in his most reasonable tone.

"You'd rather lie to the IRS?" Amanda said with concern.

A look of utter astonishment came over Lee's face. He looked at Amanda, then down at the form, then back at Amanda. "You're right," he said, dropping the wooden spoon into the sauce. "Give me that pencil." With Amanda watching approvingly, he hastily erased the offending check-mark and firmly penciled in the correct status.

Victorious, Amanda went back into the dining room for the calculator and then returned to the kitchen and settled down onto a kitchen stool, beginning to check the rest of the return. Lee watched her for a minute and then said, "Well, now that you've saved me from a sure prison term and having my last 10 years' returns audited --" He broke off as she looked up from his hen scratchings, a faintly hurt expression on her face. "No, really," he said. "You're right. But," and he got back on the track he'd been heading for, "you'd better start practicing what you're going to say when Billy hauls us both on the carpet one of these days...."

"No problem. We'll just tell him we were testing the Agency's internal security checks. We were waiting to see how long it would take someone to notice such a glaring anomaly."

Amanda's cheerful smile was contagious, and Lee said indulgently, "It might even work." But maybe we'll just tell the Agency the truth, he thought. What's good enough for the IRS....

"It might," agreed Amanda. But maybe we won't even try it.... "How soon is dinner?" she asked. "It smells delicious."

"As soon as you're done with that form," Lee said. "As soon as you're done with that form…."
 

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The following little snippet of "script" is how this story first came to me. I wrote it down that way because it seemed to encapsulate the whole idea, maybe better than the finished tale does….
 

Lee and Amanda are sitting in their apartment, each holding a pencil, a calculator, and some official-looking forms. It is April, 1988, and they are preparing to file their income taxes for 1987. Although they should be filing a joint return, they have decided not to, since it would be hard to explain to Amanda's mother (or anyone else who might notice the return!). So, having each worked out his/her own taxes, they are now checking over each other's forms for errors.....

Amanda: Lee, what's this?

Lee (vaguely): What's what?

Amanda: This. (Pointing) Under "filing status," you've checked "single."

Lee: So?

Amanda: So, you're NOT single. You're married.

Lee (patiently): Amanda, the Agency reads these forms! They're not going to like it if they find out we've been lying to them!

Amanda: You'd rather lie to the IRS?

Lee looks horrified. Long beat, then:

Lee: You're right! Give me that form!

Lee grabs the form and hastily changes the offending information and we fade....
 
 

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