by T. L. Haddix
“One more thing,” he said quietly as she opened the door. “It’s good to have you back. It hasn’t been the same without you.”
Beth felt her eyes smart with tears, which she quickly blinked back. “It’s good to be back.”
Chapter Forty One
As desperate as she was for things to return to normal, Beth was beginning to fear they never would. For the first couple of weeks after she returned to work, she stuck with the lighter lifting - stories that were important, but didn’t require the energy and in-depth research larger articles or lead stories called for. She had spoken with Marshall after her third staff meeting back and told him she was ready to take on a larger assignment, but he had disagreed.
Beth was astonished. “Why not? I want to get back in the trenches, so to speak. I’m eager to do my job, Marshall.”
“Beth, you’ve been an asset to this paper since before you were old enough to work here legally, but right now you are not ready to go back to your regular assignments. I respect you and care about you enough to tell you that up front.”
His assessment had floored her. “Why do you say I’m not ready?”
He ran his hands over his face and leaned back in his chair for a minute before answering. “You’re heart isn’t in this job right now. You’re operating on autopilot, and I think we both know that. The stories you’ve produced the last couple of weeks - they’ve been good, but that’s all. From anyone else, I’d be pleased well enough, but from you I expect more.”
Beth just looked at him, not sure what to say.
“I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear, honey, but I’m not going to lie to you. I think you’re rushing things, and I’m not going to let you do that at the expense of the paper. Until I think you’re ready, you’ll stay on the easier assignments.”
She was flabbergasted. After a minute of stunned silence, she stood up slowly. “Well, then. I see. Thanks for being honest with me.” She left without another word. Turning, she headed to the door that led onto the roof. Once outside, she went to the side of the building that paralleled the river and watched as a towboat pushing a chain of barges slowly made its way upstream. The water churned and roiled behind the boat as it passed. She felt a similar turmoil in herself, disturbed and angry, fighting against something that was determined to cut through her. Finally feeling the cold, she turned and went back in.
Downstairs, she grabbed her bag and coat and left without saying anything to her co-workers. After getting into the Beast, she pulled out onto the road and headed down the highway that ran next to the river, away from Leroy. The further away from town she drove, the more the tension inside her eased. Checking her gas gauge, she was glad to see the tank was more than half full. She kept driving, letting her thoughts roam wherever they wanted, not focusing on any one thing in particular. Maybe if she didn’t dwell on her problems for a while, they would leave her alone.
~ * * * ~
Beth drove for more than an hour before she decided to pull over. Seeing a small park ahead, she gave her signal and turned into the deserted parking lot. She turned the motor off and sat watching the waters of the Ohio River roll by. A few late-afternoon rays peeked through the clouds, glistening on the peaks of the current. A cold wind buffeted the SUV, shaking the vehicle, but she hardly noticed.
As she thought about what Marshall had said, about her not being ready to handle the harder stories, she conceded that he had been right. His decision hadn’t been based on anything personal. It was simply the unvarnished truth. Since she had returned to work, she really had been on autopilot, unable to feel the emotional attachment to her subjects most good writing called for. It was yet another example of the disassociation that continued to haunt her.
She had brought the subject up at her most recent counseling session, and Sharon had asked her whether the distance had begun before or after the shooting. Beth hadn’t been able to answer her at the time, but as she sat in the park with no one around, she realized that the shooting had not been the catalyst for her detachment. She already had started withdrawing before then, and if she were being honest, she hadn’t really been happy for quite some time, a fact she had never acknowledged, even to herself.
She wasn’t sure how much longer she would have sat there watching the river, lost in thought, if her phone hadn’t trilled when it did. She stared at the device for a moment, not wanting to answer. When she saw her mother’s number on the display, she reluctantly picked it up.
“Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“Honey, where are you?” Jackie’s concern was evident in her voice. “The Ladies’ Business League meeting started ten minutes ago.”
Beth closed her eyes and groaned. She had completely forgotten about the monthly meeting.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I lost track of the time. I’m afraid I’m going to miss this one.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Beth, you sound odd. Is everything okay? Where are you?”
“I’m okay, I’ve just been thinking about some things. I took a drive, and I went a little further than I intended to. I’ll head back now. I’ll see you at supper, okay?”
Jackie’s tone suggested she wasn’t satisfied with the answers, but she let it go after making Beth promise to call her if she made any detours. As she started the engine, she was surprised to notice how cold it had gotten inside the vehicle. She tossed the phone into the seat beside her and ran her hands into her hair. Her mouth tightened as she felt the short strands, and she gave an almost violent tug at the omnipresent reminder of the shooting. Pulling out of the parking lot and heading back toward Leroy, she was struck with the epiphany that the only time she felt any less fractured was when she was away from town. It wasn’t a good realization.
Chapter Forty Two
The weather had cleared by Saturday afternoon, and the day was bright and sunny. Earlier in the week, Beth had moved into her parents’ guest house that sat across the pool from the farmhouse. Unable to continue living in her apartment at the moment, she had decided to sublet it, leaving the unit furnished. Her parents had offered the small house as a solution and she had accepted, but only with the understanding that she would pay them rent for the duration of her stay. They hadn’t wanted to agree, but she had insisted, and they had finally given in. As the guest house was furnished with the basics, all she had to pack and bring from her apartment were her personal belongings and her office furniture.
Dressed in jeans and a heavy sweatshirt, she was helping her brothers move the patio furniture into the storage room on the back side of the garage. She had gotten the all-clear from her doctor the week before to return to normal activities, with an admonition to take it slowly if she needed to. Since her drive on Monday, she had been filled with restless energy, and she was glad to have some physical labor on which to expend it.
As they finished hauling the tables and chairs inside, Sampson came outside with cold drinks for everyone. As he handed one to Beth, he spoke. “Feel like taking a walk with an old man?”
She raised her eyebrows. “No, but I could take one with you. Where are we heading?”
“How about down to the pond?”
“Sounds good.”
They started toward the path to the barn and the pond beyond it, and walked in silence for a while, the only conversation being when one or the other pointed out an interesting sight. When they reached the pond, she led the way around to the small gazebo that sat on its banks. Easing down on one of the benches, she patted the seat beside her. Sampson sat down next to her with a sigh.
Beth was the first to speak. “So what do you want to talk to me about that you couldn’t say back at the house?”
He smiled. “Who says I wanted to talk about anything in particular?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Poppy, I’ve always known when you had something you wanted to talk to me about, and you know it.” When she rested her head on his shoulder, Sampson put his arm around her. He gave her a gentle hug bef
ore letting his arm rest on the back of the bench.
“Ah, little girl, I’m worried about you. You aren’t happy.”
She drew her feet up onto the bench and wrapped her arms around her legs. Head resting on her knees, she turned her face toward him. She couldn’t pretend anymore. “No, I’m not. I don’t know what to do about it, either.”
“That’s what I wanted to discuss with you. I think I know what you need, and I don’t know that you’re going to like my solution. I know your mother won’t.” Sampson had gained Beth’s attention, and she turned fully to watch him.
“I’m listening. What’s your idea?”
“I think you need to leave Leroy.” His eyes were sad as he watched her shocked reaction. Reaching out, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and lovingly patted her head. “I thought that would surprise you.”
Beth just shook her head, struggling to get her mind around the idea. “I - why?”
“Ever since you were a little thing, you’ve known what you wanted out of life. You made your mind up early on that you were going to be editor at the paper one day, and every decision you’ve made since then reflected that dream. If I hadn’t made your going away to college a contingency of your continuing to work at the paper, you never would have gone. I know you had other things you wanted to do, like travel and see some of the world, but when you put those desires up against working at the paper, the damned thing always won.
“You were the same way with Ethan. I knew when you were sixteen years old that you had your heart set on him, and you never changed that course, even when you dated other men.”
Beth was speechless. She wanted to deny the words, but everything he said was true. “Is that such a bad thing, that I’ve always known what I wanted?” she asked, a little hurt. “I thought you were happy having me work at the paper.”
“Sweetie, I love having you at the paper. I’ve been proud as hell to see you so passionate about it. That’s not the point here. The point is, in the last few months, you’ve had the rug jerked out from underneath you, and instead of picking yourself back up, you’re still sitting on the floor trying to figure out what happened to the rug.” He gave her a moment, then continued.
“I think you need to regain your perspective. Everything you thought your life was going to be, isn’t. I know you figured that by now you and Ethan would be married.” She shook her head, but he continued. “Don’t try to tell me differently. I know you, probably better than anyone. You’re too much like me for your own good. In any case, now that things have gone to hell with Ethan, it’s made you question every other decision you’ve made over the years.”
Standing, he moved to the door of the gazebo and leaned against the post. He turned to look at Beth. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
She slowly shook her head. “I guess I can’t do that, Poppy.”
“I know the only things that keep you going these days are the drives you go on. That started me thinking that maybe what you need isn’t here in Leroy, and your subconscious is trying to tell you that. Maybe what you need to heal is out there in the world somewhere.”
Beth considered his words. “I’m confused. You’ve always taught us that it isn’t possible to run away from yourself, but it sounds like that’s exactly what you’re telling me to do now. What makes you think I’d be any better off if I left?”
Sampson sat back down beside her. “I think you need distance to deal with these blows, honey. I think every time you drive into town, every place you go, every person you interact with, you’re just reminded of the hurt all over again, and you can’t heal a wound that you’re constantly ripping the scab off of. I don’t believe there’s any way you can possibly heal if you stay here. I don’t want you to leave town, but I think you need to. Does that make sense?”
“I suppose it does. What about my job, though? I can’t just walk off and expect Marshall to hold my position open.”
“Oh, I think something could be arranged. There are a couple of young punks on staff that would love to get some experience doing your job, and they probably won’t stick around too long.”
Beth reluctantly agreed. It was common for the paper to attract fresh new graduates who needed to gain experience, but they usually moved on before they’d been there a year, with bigger fish than a small-town paper in their sights.
“Even if Marshall did fill your position, you could come back in some other capacity. You might have to wait a little while to get back to lead reporter, but there’s no doubt you would if that’s what you wanted.”
“So what is it you’re suggesting?”
“I don’t know, exactly. Just get in the Beast and go wherever the mood strikes you. Drive, stop along the way, whatever your gut tells you to do. Don’t set a destination unless you want to, don’t set a time limit. Just go out there and see a little bit of the world. Go to places you’ve always wanted to see. Decide if you want to be here, or if you don’t.”
He stood up and held his hand out. “We’d better head back to the house before your mother sends out a search party.”
Taking his hand, she stood up with a groan, her muscles stiff from all the heavy lifting. When she saw Sampson’s concerned look, she hurried to reassure him. “I’m okay. My muscles are just a little sore. Assuming I decided to do this, when would I leave?”
“Thanksgiving’s next week, and I’d hope you would stay until after that, but it’s entirely up to you. You have the money from your grandmother’s trust that you’d have access to, right?”
Beth nodded. After his wife’s death, Sampson had set up healthy trust funds for each of his grandchildren, and Beth had hardly touched hers.
“One more thing,” he told her as they approached the house. “I haven’t mentioned this to your mother. I didn’t want to upset her. I’d prefer that you think about what we’ve discussed before you bring it up. If you end up staying here, there’s no need for Jackie to know we even talked about you leaving.”
Beth wholeheartedly agreed, knowing that her mother would be very upset if she decided to follow through with the idea. As they went through the gate to the patio surrounding the pool, she reached out and stopped Sampson with a gentle hand on his arm.
“Poppy? Thank you for understanding.” She threw her arms around him for a quick, tight hug. As she drew back, she gave him a tense smile. “I need some time alone before supper. Tell everyone I’ll be over later?”
He nodded, and she headed into the guest house. Her grandfather had given her a lot to consider over the next few days, and she knew the decision wouldn’t be without pain.
Chapter Forty Three
Beth did little else over the weekend but think about the idea Sampson had put forth to her. She went in Monday to talk to Marshall, not wanting to blindside him with her departure if that was the route she chose. After explaining the idea, she sat back and waited for the editor’s response. For a long moment he just stared at her, but then he stood up with a quiet groan and walked around to sit on the edge of his desk beside her chair.
“What do you want to do?”
She shrugged and moved her legs restlessly. “I want things to be normal again. I don’t think I’m going to just wake up tomorrow and have that happen, though. I guess I just want to get away from myself for a while, to tell the truth. It’d also be nice to go somewhere where I can walk around and not be recognized as that woman who got shot.”
“Sounds to me like you’ve pretty much made your mind up, then.”
Standing, she moved to the large half-glass wall that overlooked the newsroom. Marshall watched her without saying anything.
“What about my job? If I leave for a while, can I come back?” she asked quietly.
“Well, you know I can’t guarantee you would walk back into the same job you have now, but there will always be a place for you at this paper. You know that.”
Her expression was rueful. “No, I don’t. You should treat me just like anyone else who would be asking you t
hese questions. The last thing I want to do is walk away and then come back later and have people think I can just waltz in and out at will. Aside from that, I don’t want to cause a staffing problem for you. If I leave now, will it hurt the paper?”
Marshall turned to face her. “First off, any reporter that I work with who has busted their butt the way you have, will always have a job with me. You know better than to think I let your relationship to the owner have any influence over decisions I make. Secondly, no, we’ll survive if you leave. I’d prefer to have you here with us, but not if you aren’t healthy and happy. You need to get yourself straightened out, and if that means you leave Leroy for a while, then we’ll deal with that. How do you feel about the idea of writing an article now and then, maybe a travel column or something of the like, just to keep your name in the paper?”
To her surprise, the suggestion had appeal. “I hadn’t thought about it, but I think I’d like that. I’d have the distance I need, but I’d also still be contributing, and my readers wouldn’t forget about me.”
Marshall laughed heartily at that statement, causing her to smile. “Hudson, I doubt that’s possible. You get more mail and reader feedback than the rest of us combined, with the possible exception of Andi.” Dear Andi was the paper’s advice column, which had been wildly popular since her introduction five years ago.
“When are you thinking about leaving?” he asked as Beth walked back over to the desk.
“Soon. Maybe as soon as this weekend. I’ll know more after I talk to a couple other people.”
Marshall nodded. “Come talk to me as soon as you know, okay?”
She promised him she would, then asked one more favor. “If you could keep this to yourself for a little while? I’ve not spoken with my family about it, other than Poppy, of course.”
