I was excellent at destroying things these days. Every addict needed a friend like Cora to help pick up the pieces. I imagined my life was like a game of Jenga: always teetering to one side, ready to crash down. I told my therapist this once, and she replied, “That’s your problem. You treat life like a game. Why do you think you do that?”
I hated that she always ended each response with a question. I answered, “How should I treat it?”
“One day at a time.”
I laughed in her face. The addict’s motto drove me absolutely insane. One fucking day at a time. Okay, one day at a time I took another piece out of my life, causing it to teeter precariously a little bit more each day. One day at a time. Until it all fell down and I was left with nothing.
* * *
Cora rapped on my door five minutes after midnight. She must have dashed to the airport right after we got off the phone.
She set her emergency overnight bag that she kept at the office down in the entryway like a woman unburdening herself from all her worries. She then wrapped her arms around me. “I flew coach just for you.”
I melted into her arms even more, knowing that even though she was a hard-ass ninety percent of the time, she really was my closest and most supportive friend.
“Is this the moment when I say ‘It’s okay. Just take it one day at a time?’ I know how much you love that piece of advice.” She rubbed my back.
“Only if you want to turn around and take the next flight out of here,” I mumbled into her shoulder.
“Can I at least shower first? I always feel like I need to take five showers to get the filth of coach off me.” She stepped back to eye me.
“Must be hard being among the masses after all those years in your ivory tower.”
“Says the woman who runs one of the largest papers in Colorado.” She lifted my chin with her slender finger. “Put some coffee on. I’ll be out of the shower in a jiffy. Then you and I are going to talk until the sun comes up.”
I did as instructed. Cora wasn’t kidding. Before I had a chance to pour a cup she was standing in the kitchen in my bathrobe, towel drying her hair. “It’s been a long time since I stayed the night at your place.” She winked at me suggestively. “Of course back then, I needed to shower for different reasons.”
I poured a cup for her. “Does your husband know about us?”
She crinkled her brow. “Of course. Why?”
“Just curious, I guess. It doesn’t worry him that you’re here with me?”
“Not in the least.” She poured some milk into her coffee. “He asked me once why we didn’t work out.”
I raised my cup to my lips and then said over the brim, “What did you say?”
“Your heart belonged to another. It always had.”
This was never stated while we were an item, but when she called it off, she told me that was the way I made her feel. I never denied it.
“I’m sorry.”
She waved me away. “Don’t be. It was fun while it lasted.” Her smile reminded me of why I’d bedded her in the first place. Cora was captivating: beautiful, intelligent, witty, powerful, and damn right sexy. Many people would give anything to be with her. But she wasn’t Claire.
Cora beckoned me to the front room by wiggling her finger. She sat on the couch, and I sank into one of the chairs. “Now tell me. What happened? Last time I was here you were head over heels in love.”
I sipped my coffee. “Where do I begin?”
“The beginning, of course, you numbskull.”
So I did. I started from the day I met Claire. I had never told Cora much about my past. I never spoke about Claire to anyone really. Some of my exes, like Cora, guessed there was someone who broke my heart, but when pushed to share, I never would.
Cora sighed when she heard about Darrell being Ian’s father. “Oh, JJ. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would it have changed your mind?”
Cora smiled guiltily. “No, but we could have talked about it. Tried to think of something.”
“I thought I had thought of something. Cheyenne isn’t that far away from here.” I rested my head on the back of the chair. “I had no idea Claire would quit her job and move to Fort Collins to be closer to Darrell fucking Miller.”
Cora put a hand up. “Are you going to tell her about his threat?”
I shrugged. “Not sure I should. Yeah, it might repair some of the damage between us, but what about Ian? You’re a mother. How would you react?”
She bit her lower lip and bobbed her head. That was answer enough.
“So, you’ll be a secret martyr. I admire that. But what will it do to you in the long run?”
“Have you ever thought I’m broken beyond repair? This whole Miracle Girl and shit. It’s always hanging over my head.” I looked her in the eyes. “And don’t blame yourself for it. I dug my own grave.”
She let out a snort of laughter. “You’re always so concerned about those around you. You need to start taking care of yourself.”
“I can’t tell her. It’ll crush her. Besides, Darrell backed down from his threat, and I blackmailed him in front of Julie. I’m not innocent in this whole situation. It’s messy. And trying to explain it will only muddle the waters.”
Cora pinned me with an inquisitive look. “You really do love her. I mean, really love her.”
“Yes. From that first moment.”
She laughed good-naturedly. “Oh my tough little JJ is a walking cliché.”
I frowned.
“Do you think, with time, the damage can be repaired?” she asked.
“Maybe. But how much time? Last time it was twenty-five years.”
“What’s your next step?” Her eyes grew big with anticipation.
“I want out. Get me the fuck out of Colorado. Please. I want to come home.” I didn’t even have the decency to cringe over the groveling in my voice.
Cora collapsed back onto the couch, disappointed yet again. “You’re always leaving. Twenty-five years ago you did, and you’ve been doing it ever since. As your friend, I won’t let you. And as your boss, I’m ordering you to stay.”
“I’m not sure I can. I’m suffocating, and I’m scared.”
“I know, sweetheart. But you’ll feel that way wherever I send you, and I need you here.”
“And how do you propose I survive here.”
Cora flashed me a wicked smile. “Why, one day at a time of course.” Her malicious grin managed to still seem somewhat heartfelt. “And keep going to meetings regularly again. You need to find a release so you can think clearly. Open up there. Let them help you heal. I think you may find you aren’t alone.”
I ignored this bit. “How did you know about Darrell’s threat, anyway? Does Avery ever sleep, or is she always following me around to keep tabs on me?”
“Avery isn’t my spy. At least knowingly. She’s probably the only person at the paper you can trust.”
“Tell me, wicked one, how do you keep your fingers in so many pots?”
“Ha! A true sorceress never reveals her powers.” She closed her eyes, exhausted from having stayed up all night. “Let’s take a nap and then have some breakfast before I head back.”
The thought of her leaving so soon terrified me, but I knew she couldn’t stay. The fact that she’d dropped everything for me was enough to keep me going for the next few days.
Chapter Sixteen
Brenda’s office looked worse than if a tornado had ripped through it. The stack of papers, coffee-stained mugs, dirty dishes, random clothes, and what looked to be a cat water bowl and food dish (with bits of kibble strewn about) didn’t impress me much. I wouldn’t be surprised if I discovered a toilet seat and a beat-up washing machine from the 1950s in there. Her office was twice the size of Claire’s, but it was in the back of the building, under the stairwell. At one point, it must have been a storage place, and I wasn’t at all surprised that was where the office ko
ok was tucked away.
“Have a seat, JJ.” Brenda motioned to the one chair that had a stack of files on it.
“That’s fine. I’ve been sitting all day,” I tried to explain away my rudeness. There was no way I was stepping one foot into her domain. I leaned against the doorjamb with my arms crossed. “How’s the planning going?”
Brenda nearly jumped out of her skin when I asked for a volunteer to put together Claire’s going away party. She had put her notice in three weeks ago. At the end of the week, Claire would no longer be an employee of Mile High. At the office, we maintained a professional relationship. After hours, Claire was doing everything in her power to avoid me. I was starting to wonder if she had changed her phone number.
Usually I didn’t get involved with the planning of these types of affairs, but I felt compelled to follow up with Brenda. And by the looks of the circulation director’s office, I was a bit worried that she’d forgotten about it completely.
“I was able to book the Olive Garden for Saturday.” Brenda had a red pen tucked behind an ear and another dangling on her necklace.
“That’s great. And the cake?”
I offered to pay for the cake and asked Brenda to order one from the local shop that was featured on some food channel. The owner constructed elaborate cakes that resembled anything the client wanted.
“Yep. At first I asked if they could make a cake that was a mini-Ian.”
I held my breath.
“But then they said Claire may not like people carving into her son.” She laughed over the prospect. “I guess I see their point.”
I smiled tentatively, unsure if I wanted to probe further into what she’d actually designed. This was the first and last party I was letting Brenda plan.
“But we came up with something I think she’ll love. Of course I would prefer if she didn’t leave. I’m not sure I’ll know what to do once she’s gone.” She looked how I felt on the inside.
“I’ll double your salary and give you two months paid vacation if you can talk her into staying.” The words slipped out, and I tried covering up my blunder with a forced laugh. I wasn’t lying.
Brenda looked at me, unclear if I was serious or not. “I know, right?” She went the safe route.
“I … the paper needs her. We all need her. Well, thanks for taking care of everything.” I looked at my watch. “I have to run.”
Brenda mumbled bye. As I looked over my shoulder before leaving her department, I saw her peeking her head out the door, looking more befuddled than ever. I gave a half wave, and she returned it with a lackluster dip of her head.
* * *
When I walked into the restaurant, it looked as though every staff member had shown up for Claire’s send-off. I had been to several going away parties, but this was the first with such a turnout. Everyone loved Claire. Respected her. And no one wanted to see her leave.
Quickly, I glanced around and didn’t see Darrell. I was about eighty percent positive he’d be a no-show, considering Claire was bringing Ian. They had kept the secret for so long I couldn’t imagine them spilling it now. Claire was a creature of habit.
Ian stood next to his mother, looking overwhelmed. When I approached he smiled at me, relieved to see a friendly face. He motioned with his hand that he wanted to share a secret. I kneeled down, and he whispered in my ear, “Do you think there are any rabbit turds in the cake?” Then he started laughing.
Placing a hand on his shoulder, I whispered back, “I ordered them just for you.” I handed him a wrapped gift. “I got you this.”
Ian’s eyes grew large, and he looked up at his mom, imploring her with a smile to let him open the gift. She nodded. He ripped the paper off in less than a second.
“Cool!”
Claire looked at the Xbox Just Dance game I got her son. She did her best to repress a smirk, but I saw a trace of a smile pull at her lips. “What do you say, Ian?”
“Thanks, JJ. I love to dance.” He gripped the game with both arms and twirled around.
“I know, buddy. And you’ll be the best dancer in Fort Collins.”
I stood up and saw Brenda eying me intensely. She grabbed my arm and then said conspiratorially, “I need to borrow JJ for a moment.” She pulled me into the back room. I expected her to ask what the deal was about buying Ian a gift, but instead she said, “Here it is!” She mimicked a drum roll and then waved her arm to the cake.
It was a massive newspaper spread open. The black and white icing turned my stomach. Not because of the colors, but because it was a symbol of Claire leaving to work at another paper. Leaving me. For once it was someone in my life leaving and not me.
I swallowed hard. “Oh, this is great. Really, really great.” I circled the cake, feigning admiration instead of stomping it to bits like I wanted.
“So …” Brenda looked past my shoulder to make sure the coast was clear. “Do you think this has anything to do with Claire’s mystery beau?”
My head snapped up too quickly, leaving me exposed.
She didn’t notice.
“I think Claire’s in love with a younger man.” She paused. “Or woman.” She winked at me, her lesbian boss. “And she’s afraid to spill the beans. She’s being cagey about why she finally accepted the job up there, and she’s never cagey with me. It has to be something big.”
I felt weak in the knees, but did my best not to show it. “You know, I bet you’re right.” With that, we rejoined the party.
After some time, it was clear Claire felt overwhelmed, and I saw her slip outside for a cigarette. We hadn’t spoken privately since she turned in her resignation. I decided this was my final chance.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get you a gift,” I said as I approached with my pack of cigarettes out for her to take one.
She grabbed one, and I had my lighter ready. Claire inhaled deeply. Raising the cigarette in front of her face, she mumbled, “Thanks.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say that would whisk her off her feet, so I stayed quiet.
“It was sweet of you to get Ian a gift.” She looked nervous to be alone with me. “His father will love it.”
I smiled. “Yes, but that’s not the reason I got it.”
She studied me and then let it go.
“How is Darrell?” I asked as I stared at the stars, remembering her comment that for a child Cheyenne was as far away as the moon. I wished I was on the moon, far away from all this pain and loneliness.
“Good. He’s getting settled in.”
I nodded. “That’s great. I hope—”
“You and Brenda are becoming fast buds.” She nudged my shoulder playfully.
“Yeah, I think she thinks we’ll be bfs now that you’re leaving.”
“You couldn’t ask for a better friend at the paper. You’ll learn that.” She was actually being sincere, so I decided not to say how I really felt.
“I’ll take care of her.” I puffed on my cigarette before I said the dreaded words I promise.
Claire squeezed my arm.
“So, are you all packed?”
“We don’t have to bring much. My parents’ place is furnished, and Ian is excited to live in a cabin. He’s been reading books about Davey Crockett.”
This made both of us laugh.
“You nervous about your job?” I asked.
She shrugged. “A little. Hadn’t had much time to think about it though.”
“If you ever need to talk, I’m just a phone call away.”
She tamped out her cigarette in an ashtray. “I better get back inside.”
“Claire, wait.” She turned and faced me. “If you need anything …”
Tears formed in her eyes. “Same with you.”
We stood, not speaking. Finally, she said, “You coming in?”
“In a moment. I miss seeing the stars.” I waved pathetically at the sky.
Moments later, I felt someone slip their arm through mine.
I thought it was Claire and rested my head on the person’s shoulder.
“I’ll miss her, too,” said Brenda, and she patted my arm.
I didn’t pull away. “There’s no one else like her in this world.”
Brenda’s silence surprised me.
Chapter Seventeen
First thing the following Monday morning, I headed to the dreaded meeting with all the department heads. I had decided late last night, after smoking a pack of cigarettes on my balcony until two in the morning, that it was time for them to know the whole truth.
I sat in my chair at the head of the table and waited for Brenda to take her seat. No one was missing, besides Claire and Darrell. Out of the remaining nine, no one looked eager to be there.
Clearing my throat, I began in a quiet voice. “I know many of you are scared about the recent changes. All of you have integrity, and many of you are hesitant about all the modifications I have been imposing. Some of you probably think I’m degrading the paper. I get that. I do.”
I looked around the table. Every eye was on me. “But I’m not in a position to create a paper that would make my folks proud. There aren’t many like my folks anymore who want real journalism.
“The fact of the matter is most people don’t crave news anymore. Scandal, sex, gossip … that’s what is trending on Twitter. That’s what they crave.”
Standing, I continued to talk while I walked the circumference of the room. “Attention spans are rapidly shrinking. Texting and Twitter are killing the English language. LOL, hashtags, smiley faces—that’s how people communicate these days. I’m not saying we should publish trash. We have to find a balance.”
I leaned against the far table so I could see everyone. “Going back to my earlier point, I would love to create a paper that would make my parents proud. I know we all would. I would love for our writers to win awards and to bring honor to this paper.
“But right now, I have to face the facts. And I’ve held back on some crucial points to protect all of you.” I crossed my arms.
“I think that was a mistake, and I’m sorry. Here’s the truth. If our numbers don’t drastically improve by December thirty-first, corporate is shutting us down.”
The Miracle Girl Page 17
