Chapter 51
Chapter fifty-one
One month later, Seattle: Tabitha
“Handcock. Come in, come in,” Claudia hollered as Tabitha knocked and peeked into her boss’s office. “Thanks for coming all this way.”
“I work right down the hall on Mondays. I was already here.”
“I know,” her boss groused. “It’s just what people say to each other—never mind. Let’s cut to the chase.”
Tabitha relaxed into the chair opposite the stocky, older woman she had been reporting to for the entirety of her journalism career.
She’d been a champion of unwavering support for ten years, and Tabitha was grateful to her.
She’d given her a shot as an intern and extended an offer for hire before her eight-week stint was over.
You got chops, kiddo. I see big things for you.
Claudia could believe in her all she wanted, but if anything was going to save Tabitha’s career, it was the six-page spread on Off the Beaten Adventures that she’d submitted two weeks ago.
After returning home from her Leavenworth trip, she’d locked herself in her condo and toiled away until the piece was just right.
The process had been surprisingly cathartic.
She started as a mopey mess with a soggy face and puffy eyes, but as she strung her article together, she processed what she’d felt and what everything meant to her.
She’d emailed the final product to Claudia with her heart in her throat.
Would her boss love it? Would the higher-ups?
“Your article.” The woman was impossible to read. Happy, frustrated, delighted . . . it all looked the same on her.
“My article.”
Claudia put on the reading glasses dangling around her neck, peered at the computer screen, and then side-eyed Tabitha. “The feedback is primarily positive.”
Tabitha could finally breathe. Primarily positive was good, wasn’t it? “So what does that mean for me?”
Claudia popped her glasses on her head before leaning forward.
Her elbows rested on that ever-present stack of files.
Tabitha itched to clear away the clutter, but it wasn’t her problem.
If the woman preferred to work that way then who was she to bust in and change that?
Journalists came and went from Rock ‘n’ Ropes, but her editor would probably survive an apocalypse and keep the magazine afloat all on her own. The woman was a grade-A boss.
“Do you want the good or bad first?”
Tabitha never understood the point of that. She’d rather have it all together without having to pick her poison. But she humored Claudia. “Gimme the good.”
“You’re here to stay.”
Effervescent joy fizzed inside of Tabitha as she sat there and barely heard much beyond the job security.
“—relatable and vulnerable. I don’t know what lit the fire, Handcock, but I’m sure as shit glad you came back blazing.”
Letting the pessimism seep in a moment, Tabitha asked, “What’s the bad news?”
“You’re stuck writing the six-page feature each month, which means more travel. I know you prefer to stay close to home, but that’s what the the-powers-that-be want, and you know how the saying goes.” Claudia’s grim expression made Tabitha chuckle.
Five weeks ago, the news that she’d be traveling regularly would have steeped her in fear.
She preferred the comfort of the office, of sleeping in her bed each night.
Researching from behind a computer or over a few phone calls to get direct statements.
The years following her accident she’d shut herself away, letting the fear dictate her adventures.
Even before breaking her leg, she pushed down the fear or apprehension that would trickle in, neatly packing it away to be dealt with later . . . or never, as the case was.
But after Leavenworth—after climbing with Zac—she felt imbued with a novel sense of bravery.
She faced her fear and was learning how to live with it while also working through the moments where it decided to linger.
Going on location for her articles wasn’t a “bad,” as Claudia assumed.
It was another element to add to the “good” column.
“I think I can manage that,” she assured her boss.
“Great. I just sent your next assignment to your email. How do you feel about Red River Gorge?”
“Oh, wow.” That was fast. “I feel optimistic about it.”
“Glad to hear it. We done here?”
Tabitha nodded and headed for the door. “Thanks, Claudia.”
“It wasn’t me, Handcock. You did the work, and it was superb.”
Her smile was impossible to quell as she turned the handle to leave.
“Oh, uh, Tabitha?” her boss called as she stood from her desk, carrying a copy of the magazine with her. “Did you read the issue?”
Tabitha winced. Normally, she’d have read it cover to cover the day it came out, but with so much riding on her article, she hadn’t had the stomach for it. “I hate to say no, but—”
“Here.” Calloused fingers shoved the sticky-note-covered copy into Tabitha’s hands. “I suggest you do.”
“Sure thing.”
“Have a good night, Handcock.”
Tabitha tucked the issue under her arm and headed back to her desk.
“That’s fantastic! Can I come?” Lark squealed so loudly in the phone that Tabitha had to hold it away from her ear. She switched to speakerphone and set it down on the coffee table next to her red wine and the latest issue of Rock ‘n’ Ropes.
“Claudia was super happy about our article, so I bet I could make a case for it.”
“The dream team, back together again!”
“If you ever come back from Leavenworth, that is.”
“I’m finishing up a little side gig here.”
Tabitha lifted the stemless glass to her lips and took a sip. “One that you haven’t yet explained to me. When were you going to get around to that?”
“It’s complicated, babe.” Lark muffled her phone but Tabitha made out a definitively masculine mumble coming from the other line.
“I bet.”
“Anyways, I got more work to do here, and you, uh . . . have some reading to do, if I’m not mistaken.”
They said their goodbyes and then Tabitha made herself comfortable in her jammies on the couch, all wrapped up in her favorite throw blanket. She took a gulp of wine and cracked open the magazine. But as she skimmed past the first few ads, she dropped her glass on the floor.
“Shit,” she murmured. Quickly cleaning up the mess to prevent a stain, she returned to the letter to the editor page.
Pictures of her—beautiful, stunning pictures—against the backdrop of the setting sun, all framed in rock and the tips of thousands upon thousands of treetops, bounced off the page.
Her vision tunneled as she reached for her wine, only to remember that she’d dropped it a moment ago.
So she gathered the magazine, laid it out on the kitchen countertop, and drank straight from the bottle as she read.
A Letter to the Editor
Dear Rock ‘n’ Ropes Editor,
I know I’m not your intended demographic, but I couldn’t keep what I witnessed to myself and figured this was the most appropriate forum to share. Let me start off by saying I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life and have countless regrets, but I’ll get to that in a minute.
Last month, my company hosted an incredible journalist from R ‘n’ R.
A brilliant writer and a badass climber.
I had the good fortune to act as her adventure guide for an entire week.
She sampled a few of our offerings, including a group outdoor lead class and a private bouldering excursion.
All that culminated in a multi-pitch at the iconic Castle Rock off Highway 2.
(Spoilers, I know. She tells the full story later in this issue, and no doubt it will be way more eloquent than my ramblings).
Anyway, it was on that final excursion that I witnessed and experienced something so life-altering that there is no turning back: bravery.
I’m not talking the kind you employ during life-threatening situations.
It’s easy to fake bravery when you’re in danger.
All you have to do is stuff down the fear and ignore your brain as it screams in terror.
Nope, I’m talking about the bravery needed to be vulnerable.
To open up your chest, hold out your heart, and hope it is safe in the possession of another.
It’s so much harder to trust someone with your heart than to trust them on the other end of your rope.
And it wasn’t until that trip—that fateful Castle Rock multi-pitch—that I finally found the bravery to do so.
Even if the result didn’t land in my favor.
What does this have to do with this magazine? Very little. But that’s just me trying to be brave one more time and take a chance on vulnerability. Because I believe now, with my entire soul, that it’s the way to go. Come find me when you’re ready to be brave too, TC.
Cheers,
Zac