Chapter Five #4
“The other producers have been producing. Department heads have been making the decisions that belong to them. People asked for help when they needed it. They also asked when you were coming back.”
I stopped.
Glenn continued before I could speak.
“We need the part you’re actually exceptional at, Caprice.
Seeing the whole production. Catching where one department’s decision is about to hit another.
Managing the big picture. We do not need you approving every chair, chasing every email, or standing behind competent people while they do jobs you already hired them to do. ”
The words should have hurt, and some of them did—not because they were cruel, but because they were accurate.
“Did anything get missed?”
“Of course something got missed. It’s television. Something is always missed.”
I laughed despite myself.
“Anything catastrophic? Anything I would’ve prevented?”
“Nothing catastrophic. You probably would’ve prevented something.”
That answer surprised me.
Glenn went on.
“And something else would’ve happened while you were busy preventing that. The goal is not a perfect universe. The goal is a production staffed well enough to absorb normal problems without one person becoming the emergency department.”
I looked down at the floor.
“I’ve been making it harder.”
“At times, yes.”
There was no pleasure or accusation in his answer, just Glenn telling me the truth the same way he would tell me an exterior location had bad sound or the schedule needed another half day.
“I’m sorry. I mean it.”
“I know.”
Bear barked faintly somewhere outside.
I looked toward the door.
“I’ll come back.”
“Good.”
“But I’m not coming back to the way I was doing it.”
Glenn was quiet.
I kept going.
“I don’t mean I’m stepping back from the job. I’m not. I want the job. I want the responsibility that is actually mine.”
“All right.”
“The department heads keep the authority they’ve been using while I’m gone.
The other producers don’t hand everything back to me because I walked through the door.
If we’re changing something major, I need to know.
If a decision affects multiple departments, bring me in.
But I can’t keep treating every unresolved detail like a personal summons. ”
A moment passed.
Then Glenn said, “Good.”
I blinked. “That’s it? I was expecting a negotiation.”
“We’ll negotiate plenty when you’re back.”
The dry familiarity in his voice made me smile.
“But I wasn’t planning to put you back into the same pattern,” he continued. “It wasn’t working. We can talk about coverage, authority, and how we structure the rest of the production when the immediate situation is stable.”
“Not now?”
“You’re still snowed in.”
“Technically.”
“And I have a call in seven minutes.”
“There you are.”
“I missed you too.”
My chest tightened—not painfully, just enough to make me aware of it.
“Did they really ask when I was coming back?”
“Yes.”
“Because they need something?”
“Because you’re their producer, Caprice.”
I closed my eyes for one second.
I was their producer, not their entire production or the person who had to hold every loose thread.
Glenn cleared his throat.
“Get back safely. Call me when the resort clears your road, and we’ll work out your arrival.”
“I will.”
“And Caprice?”
“Yes?”
“Four days off means four days off. Do not celebrate this conversation by opening your laptop.”
I laughed.
“I wasn’t going to.”
He went silent.
“That may be the most alarming thing you’ve said all week.”
“Goodbye, Glenn.”
“See you soon.”
The call ended.
I stood beside the windows with the phone still in my hand.
The production had done more than survive. People I trusted had done their jobs and solved problems without asking me to carry them first, and they still wanted me back.
Both things were true.
That should have made the answer simple.
Instead, I looked across the great room at the couch where Lucky and I had sat the night before, the kitchen where our cake plates still waited on the counter, and Bear’s rope lying near the hearth.
Three days ago, I had arrived planning to make this place useful.
Now the idea of leaving it hurt.
The front door opened.
Cold air swept briefly into the entry before Lucky came inside with Bear beside him.
He unhooked the leash and looked at me.
He must have seen something in my face, because his easy expression shifted.
“How’d it go?”
I set my phone on the island.
“The talent situation has cooled down. The team handled the work. Some of it differently than I would have, and apparently the world continued turning.”
Lucky took off his coat but stayed near the door, giving me room to finish.
“They want me back.”
His eyes held mine.
“I figured they would.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re good at what you do.”
No hesitation.
No attempt to soften the fact that my career existed somewhere beyond this mountain and needed me in it.
I looked toward the windows again.
“The road isn’t open yet. Glenn knows that. He told me to wait until the resort says it’s safe.”
Lucky nodded. “Then we wait.”
“But once it is...”
The words caught for the first time.
Lucky crossed the room but stopped in front of me instead of reaching for me.
He let me choose that too.
I closed the distance and put my hands against his chest.
“I have to go.”