Chapter 49
Chapter Forty-Nine
Eva
“Well, all I can say is it is damn good to see that big of a smile on your face again,” Gwen says the next day as we walk through downtown.
The events of yesterday seem like a blur. For the first time in months, I can actually breathe again.
Stopping for a moment to let a few cars pass before we cross the street, I look over at Gwen and notice she’s also in her own little euphoric state. Smiling like I haven’t seen her smile in years, I watch as she texts someone, giggles to herself, and then puts her phone back in her purse.
“And what is all that about?” I ask. “What has you all giggly and blushing?”
Shaking her head, she doesn’t say a word and just continues to stroll along beside me as we head towards the newspaper office.
I was a little surprised when I called this morning and Mary extended an invitation to meet with her this afternoon.
Not that I have decided to stick around permanently or anything, but after the events of last evening, I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.
“So, are you seriously considering this?” Gwen asks. “You know, uprooting your whole existence and moving all the way across the United States?”
“What, you don’t like Kentucky?” I ask.
Squinting, she looks around us. “No, I didn’t say that. This place has potential.” I laugh. “I’m just gut-checking you. Making sure you are sure, you know?”
“Gwen, the last time you gut-checked me, I wound up drunk, getting my boyfriend and one of my oldest friends into a fistfight, and then crashing my car into a ditch.”
She laughs. “True, my latest track record isn’t so stellar, huh?” We come to a stop in front of the newspaper office and look inside. Her stare catches my attention through the glass. “You ready for this, Eva?”
The realization that so much more awaits me on the other side of the door begins to rattle my nerves. Taking a deep breath, I exhale slowly and nod my head. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Besides, it’s just a meeting. Not like they are already shipping my bags over from California or anything.”
“Keep telling yourself that sister,” she says as she pulls me in for a big hug. “Good luck, I’ll see you in a few, okay?”
I nod and watch as she walks away. I stand at the door to the office a little bit longer before attempting to step inside.
Can I really do this?
I look to the left and my eye catches the fire station across the street.
Sitting out front waiting for a call is Noah, Rex, and Cash.
I catch Noah’s eye for a moment and he smiles, but then he notices where I am standing and an inquisitive look crosses his features.
I hadn’t told him anything about my meeting with Mary.
Last night, all I wanted to do was be with him. Just be us.
Noah fumbles with his phone before mine alerts me of a text.
Noah: I’ve got 14 hours left on shift Darlin’. Then I plan on doing nothing but you for the next 48. Be ready.
Glancing back up, I blow him a kiss.
There is no turning back, only moving forward - and the only place I ever want to be is with him. This time, when I turn back around and look straight ahead, I don’t hesitate as I pull on the door to the office and step inside.
“The pages were supposed to be at the press thirty minutes ago, Stacey. What do you mean you are still waiting on B section?” Mary says from a desk in the far corner of the room.
A few workers are spread out across the office. One looks scared as hell, the other looks pissed as Mary stands with her arms folded at the desk she’s using to call the press from. The third could care less as he sits in the corner with his feet up on his desk.
“I don’t care if your freelancer dropped the ball, that is why we pay you to stay on top of these things. It’s your job to have something to go in that slot if he falls through,” Mary says sternly into the receiver.
The man at her desk looks over at me as I make my way forward into the office. I smile at him, but it is not returned.
“Fine,” Mary yells. “We will just pull what we had saved for tomorrow’s section and run it today. Oh, and Stacey, you can forget the other half of your two week’s notice. Your final check will be waiting for you at central office tomorrow.” She harshly hangs up the phone and I jump back a little.
“So?” The man standing at her desk asks.
“She has nothing! Pull the story on the Rebels and put it on B1. Sorry, Harry, you’ll be taking on a little more work until I can get her replacement hired.”
Mary hands Harry the daily proofs and he stalks off irate. She runs her fingers through her hair momentarily before letting out a deep breath and turning to look at me. Standing up a little straighter, she smiles a weary smile before walking closer.
“Too bad you’re just here for a meeting or I might have just had the nerve to throw you into the fire.”
“Nothing to make you love being a journalist like when someone falls through on a front-page story last minute, right?” I joke. “What happened?”
“Our sports reporter is useless. I gave her freelancers and she still comes up with nothing. Oh well, say la vie. Makes us all have to pick up a little more slack, but it’s what we live for, right? The story. The chase. The deadlines.”
I smile knowingly. There is no other profession I could ever see myself doing.
Gesturing towards a conference room, I glance around the newsroom as we walk toward our meeting.
She grabs a folder from a nearby desk before walking into the room.
I follow and take a seat across from her at the small conference table.
“So, I am not going to lie, I took the time to look you up after our meeting yesterday and before this place went to hell today. I got to say, I am very impressed, but you are still only just a reporter at a small town newspaper in Northern California?”
“Well, I had a job interview at the L.A. Times a few months ago,” I say, not really sure where to go next. “But, I turned it down.”
Her eyes grow wide. She stares at me for several moments before leaning back in her chair and looking at the folder in her hands.
“Not many people in life would do something like that. There has to be a reason?” I look out across the street through the window in the conference room and see Noah with Rex, laughing and carrying on like two little school boys. “I see,” Mary says.
Glancing down at my lap a little embarrassed, I take a moment before I speak.
“You know, all I ever wanted to be was a journalist ever since I could remember. I wanted to climb the ladder and land myself a job at a huge paper somewhere.” I look up and she smiles back at me like only a fellow newspaper person could.
“But, life happens you know. After a few things change, pretty soon that dream doesn’t seem so important anymore. ”
She taps her fingers on the folder and smiles before leaning forward. “I worked a few years at the Washington Post. It isn’t all as glamorous as you would think. Tell me, why the move to Kentucky then, or do we need to take another look out the window?”
I laugh nervously. “No, I’m good,” I say. “I don’t know. Sometimes you just got to follow your heart, right? If something feels like home, you got to go for it, and never let it go.”
“Would you be moving to Bardstown?” she asks.
I nod, not fully able to speak because I haven’t actually made up my mind if I am moving or not. But the way this conversation is going, my future looks like it is deciding itself before I even get a chance to make up my own mind.
“Well,” she says. “We are looking for an editor for this daily. You work at a daily, so I don’t need to tell you the workload. How many pages did you run in Nevada City?”
“We were sixteen Monday through Friday and twenty on Saturday and Sunday,” I say, straightening up in my seat, thankful that the subject changed to something else besides the man standing just across the street.
“Well then, we are pretty close. The way I see it, if the Times wanted a piece of you, you’re more than qualified for us.”
Sliding the folder across the table, I pick it up and glance up at her.
“This is what I can offer you,” she says.
“It’s not a crazy salary, but I think it’s enough.
After all, this is Kentucky, not California.
The cost of living isn’t even comparable, so remember that when you are looking through the numbers.
You would need to do a drug test and background check, and there would be a few forms that I would need you to sign. ”
I don’t open the folder. Instead, I sit with the weight of it, and ask, “When would you want me to start?”
“As soon as you can.”