The Price of Fame - KJ1
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Jay could still hear the anguish in Sarah’s voice that last night they had spent together in their dorm room.
“You’re just going to be able to walk across that stage tomorrow and out of my life and that will be the end of it? Jay? How can you do that?
What about us?” Sarah was distraught. “Jay, please, don’t do this.
You...you love me; I know you do, and I love you. Can’t we find a way to work this out so we can still be together?”
Softly, Jay answered, “I’m so, so, sorry, Sare. It’s just not going to work. You’ll be all right. You’ll get to law school and find someone really great who will love you the way you should be loved, and you won’t even remember I’m alive.”
“That’s not true,” Sarah denied hotly as tears streamed down her cheeks. “It’s you I need. Please, Jay...please.”
“I’m sorry, Sarah, but I can’t. I wish I could, but I just can’t.” Jay bowed her head, miserable at being the cause of so much suffering and vowing never to put anyone through that pain again.
Since then, despite many offers, she had remained true to that vow, categorically refusing to get involved with anyone. Her life had been ordered, neat and tidy, and simple.
Now there she was, standing in her own apartment, having just shared a mind-blowing kiss with the only woman who had the ability to touch her soul and make her fiction come to life. Jay was afraid that she would awaken any second and find that it had all been a dream; she fingered the business card Kate had given her just to be sure it hadn’t been.
For years she had believed that the tall, dark stranger who owned her heart would never know it. Jay had resolved to pour her energies into her work, making allowances for friendships and nothing more. She couldn’t, and wouldn’t, pretend to have feelings for someone else that she knew belonged only to the statuesque, blue-eyed woman that she barely knew, and she wasn’t much for one-night stands. She had laughed at herself self-deprecatingly more than once, telling herself it was like living some sort of Greek tragedy. But she could no more change her heart than she could change the color of her eyes.
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Now...now. She sighed. If she ever doubted what she knew in her soul, the past day had crystallized her feelings with remarkable clarity.
Well, Jamison, you’ve always believed that things happen for a reason.
There’s a reason circumstances brought you to Albany and a reason why you turned on the television when you did. This may be your one chance, don’t let it pass you by.
Having made that decision, Jay felt more settled and alive than she had in quite some time. Nodding to herself, she moved to her bedroom to change clothes for her interview with the governor.
At exactly 2:30 p.m., she was escorted into the governor’s office high up in the World Trade Center. Stepping from behind his desk, he greeted her amiably. “Ms. Parker, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve read some of your work, it’s quite good.”
“Thank you, Governor Hyland. Coming from you, that’s high praise, indeed,” the writer smiled easily.
He was a good-looking man: 6’2”, with strawberry blonde hair and freckles underlining his Irish Catholic heritage. At 48 years of age, he was in excellent physical shape and enjoyed playing weekly basketball games with his state police protectors and reporters. In the summer, he pitched for an executive branch softball team. During her research prior to the interview, Jay had discovered that the governor was as competitive on a field of play as he was in the political arena; stories about his will to win were legendary.
He motioned her to a pair of wing chairs across the room. She noted that he did not seem to have suffered any injuries in the explosion. Had it only been the day before? Jay marveled at how time had seemed to lose its relevance in Kate’s presence. Then, just as quickly, she admonished herself for letting her mind wander to her friend when she needed to focus on what she was doing.
She fixed the governor with a concerned look. “Are you all right after what happened yesterday? You weren’t injured?”
The governor, who was well used to journalists feigning real concern or interest or sympathy in order to get information, could read nothing but sincerity in Jay’s open face. “No. Fortunately, I was able to escape without a scratch. I wasn’t in the building when the second explosion occurred.”
The writer leaned forward a bit in her chair. “Your wife must have been so worried.”
“Oh, yes. You can bet I got an earful. She heard the first explosion from the mansion several blocks away and immediately called the front gate to find out what it was. It was all the detail assigned to protect her 72
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could do to keep her from coming over to the capitol. I had to go home just to prove to her that I was fine, she wouldn’t believe anyone else.” He shook his head.
“It must be hard, knowing that danger always exists for you. Do you think about it often?”
“No, but my wife certainly does.”
“I can understand that,” Jay agreed. “Does her concern change anything that you do or any decisions you make?”
“I try to be considerate and sensitive to her fears, but the truth of the matter is that I have a job to do, and I must do it without reservation. The people are counting on me.”
“I bet your wife wasn’t too happy about you coming to the office today.”
“Oh, you’re right about that. She threw a fit. In the end, though, the governor of the great state of New York can’t appear to be cowed by an act of violence. To stay away today and do anything less than carry on the full duties of the office would have been to send the message that terror works. And it would have been disrespectful to those individuals who lost their lives so tragically yesterday. Their deaths will not have been in vain. The good works of this administration will continue, even in the face of acts of cowardice.”
“It is obvious, Governor Hyland, that you are a man of deep principles. In that sense this must be a very difficult time for you. I know that the legislature has been debating state funding for family planning services and abortions. I also imagine that yesterday’s attack will ratchet up the talk that has been rather loud lately about reinstating the death penalty in New York. I have heard you say on many occasions that, as a deeply religious man, you are morally opposed to both abortion and to capital punishment. And yet, you have gone on record as supporting public funding for abortion and you have said you would sign a capital punishment bill if one were put before you. It must be incredibly tough to reconcile your personal feelings and principles with your professional judgment; I can’t imagine having to make those types of choices. Does that ever bother you? Does it make you worry that you might have to abandon your faith to fulfill your role as governor? Has it ever made you sorry you chose politics as a career?”
The governor was completely absorbed in the conversation now. This writer seemed genuinely interested in his answers, not just as a reporter, but also as a human being. He had to give Jay credit, she didn’t ask run-of-the-mill questions and had a way of making him want to talk about topics near to his heart, but which his advisors wished fervently that he would avoid.
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“I think, Ms. Parker, that there are moments in every politician’s career when he or she wonders if this is the right path. The sacrifice can be enormous, as you have gleaned. And yes, there are times when the types of decisions to which you have referred keep me up at night. But the rewards far outweigh the price I have had to pay, or may yet have to pay. The amazing opportunity to improve the lives of so many is a balm to my soul. The professional judgments I make, if you will, are arrived at with the conviction that, when it is time for me to be judged, my steadfast desire to help humanity will count heavily in my favor and my individual actions will be weighed accordingly.”
“Governor, I know that you are both a student and a scholar of the history of the presidency. It is a topic that has always fasc
inated me.” Jay smiled at him and wrinkled her nose slightly. “I’d be a fool to pass up an opportunity to learn a little something here.”
“If I can enlighten you in some way, Ms. Parker, it would be my pleasure.”
“I had a history professor once who included as a final exam essay topic the thesis that, at least in the twentieth century, governors tend to make better presidents than those who have never served in that position.
He claimed that history had borne him out and he cited as an example Franklin Roosevelt.”
“Ooh, that must have been some tough final. How did you answer the question, Ms. Parker and how much time did you have to do it in?”
With an embarrassed shrug Jay answered, “I respectfully disagreed with the hypothesis, citing a list of governors turned presidents who I thought were less than stellar in the higher office and an equal number of non-governors who I thought had done excellent jobs as president. I backed up each choice with facts and events. And I did it in ten pages in twenty minutes.” She looked across at him with something akin to defiance.
“Hmm. Sounds like you’re still carrying some bitterness at the end result. What was your grade on the essay?”
“I got a B minus, it was the only time in that class that I’d gotten anything below an A. It wrecked my average.”
The governor laughed. “I bet you were steamed.”
“Yep, I sure was,” Jay agreed. “So, do you think he was right?”
“Well, in theory he should have been, but in practice I tend to agree with you...”
“I knew it.”
For the next half hour the governor of New York, a man thought by many to be a likely future presidential candidate, explained at length why governors should be better presidents, but weren’t always. It was great stuff. Jay knew that she had gotten what she came for: the human being 74
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behind the politician, a deep thinker and philosopher with a pragmatic streak and a keen sense of history.
At 4:00 p.m. the governor’s secretary buzzed him to tell him he would be late for his next appointment if he didn’t get going. He appeared to be disappointed that the interview was at an end.
For her part, Jay couldn’t believe that an hour and a half had passed.
She thanked him for his time and started to excuse herself.
Impulsively Governor Hyland said, “Ms. Parker, my wife and I would love it if you would join us as our guest for the Legislative Correspondents’ Association Show in Albany. Have you ever been to one?”
“No,” Jay answered, caught off guard by the invitation.
“Well, that settles it then. No individual’s life is complete without the experience.” There was a smile in his voice. “I’ll have my secretary give you the details. My wife will be so pleased to meet you.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jay said. “I look forward to meeting Mrs. Hyland, as well.”
With that, the secretary ushered her out the door.
Kate checked her watch for the millionth time. She had gotten home from the airport with just enough time to give Fred a good scratch, shower and change her clothes before heading to the station. Since arriving, she had been checking facts, following up on leads, and writing copy for the 6:00 broadcast. And thinking about Jay, which brought an unconscious smile to her face and her eyes to her watch yet one more time. Yep, right about now, she thought. Then she sighed as yet another street reporter passed by her desk and pretended to be so engrossed in the piece of paper in front of him that he didn’t even notice her.
Fame, however fleeting, was a funny thing. The station management, the photographers and the producers had all gone out of their way to congratulate Kate on her performance on the “big three” that morning.
Her co-anchor and the reporters who aspired to sit in her chair someday avoided her like the plague; their jealousy was so obvious she was surprised they hadn’t literally turned green. She just shook her head. She had done what she had to do the previous day, not in some quest for glory, but because it was her job, and it was the right thing to do. She didn’t care what they thought, she had work to tend to, and a little less than an hour before she had to be on set.
Returning home at 4:45 p.m., Jay opened the door and smiled with relief. She loved her apartment. The location was great: in the heart of 75
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Greenwich Village in a beautifully restored brownstone with easy access to the subway. The space was somewhat cramped, as the cost of living in New York City was obscene and this was the best she could afford. Still, she had done wonders with the place and she thought it was both comfortable and quaint.
Her bedroom was in a loft overlooking the living room, which showcased Mission-style furniture, like the rest of the rooms. Off of the living room underneath the loft was her office, and a bathroom, and to the right was a small dining area and a reasonably sized kitchen. Racks were hung from the kitchen ceiling with well-worn pots and pans and wine and champagne glasses. The floors throughout were hardwood, and one wall of the living room featured floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over a small park.
Climbing to her bedroom, Jay changed into her comfortable clothes, then walked into her tiny office and deposited her briefcase on the desk.
She sat down with the intention of organizing her notes and revisiting background interviews she had done with some of the governor’s close associates and personal friends. Her mind kept straying, though, and her stomach was tied in knots. Telling Kate about her childhood had triggered the fear that something terrible would happen now that she had exploded the secret, just as her father had said it would so many times, so long ago.
At exactly 5:00 p.m., the buzzer sounded, letting her know someone was downstairs in the lobby for her. She frowned, knowing that she was not expecting anyone. She pressed the intercom button and asked who it was: a delivery for her. Hmm. Jay was no New Yorker by nature, but she was cautious. She asked the delivery person where the package had originated.
“I was told not to ruin the surprise, miss.”
“Well, I have no intention of accepting an unidentified package that I was not expecting. So either you tell me where the package is from or who sent it, or you can just turn right back around and take it back with you.”
“Um, I was told that if you gave me a hard time, I was to tell you that it was from a close personal friend of Fred’s?” There was a question at the end of his statement, as if to underscore that he didn’t get it, either.
“From Fred’s friend, huh?” Jay smiled. “Okay, bring it up.”
At the sound of the door latch in the lobby being released, the delivery boy shrugged his shoulders and bounded up the stairs to the young woman’s apartment. The package was large and somewhat unwieldy and he struggled not to bang into the walls with it.
Jay waited at the door to her apartment. Whereas she had been wary at first, now she was just flat-out curious and excited. What could it be?
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When she caught sight of the package (she couldn’t see the delivery boy behind it except for his legs), her eyes went wide as saucers. What the...?
She accepted delivery and slid the huge box into her living room. It was bulky, but surprisingly light. There were no markings to indicate where it had come from, or who had sent it, though the hint the delivery boy had given her had clarified that matter.
Jay grabbed a pair of scissors from her desk drawer and sliced open the tape binding on the box. Her stomach fluttered happily at the anticipation of the surprise; her first reaction was to laugh after she pulled the top flaps back. Then her face took on a wistful expression.
“Aww. That’s just too cute for words, Ms. Tough Anchorwoman.”
In the box was a massive cuddly teddy bear. Jay lifted it out of the box and stroked its soft fur; he had such a cute face and a little potbelly that protruded over his plaid shorts. Then she noticed that he had a card pinned to his adorable littl
e vest. It was the same bold, flowing handwriting from the business card that she had removed from her pocket and stared at numerous times since early that afternoon, which prompted a smile.
The card read, “Jay, this guy looks as though he’s got a lot of hugs to give, which is exactly what you deserve. Since I couldn’t be there in person, I thought he made a pretty good substitute. Thank you again for the gift of your trust. You are a beautiful person and I enjoyed every minute we spent together. I hope we’ll have many more. By the way, his name is Theodore E. Bear. Your friend, Kate.”
Jay wiped at the tears that leaked out of her eyes. It was as if, from 150 miles away, her friend had seen into her soul, answering her doubts and calming her fears. In her entire life no one had ever been so solicitous or so attuned to her emotions and thoughts. She knew intellectually that Kate could not have known how rattled she was feeling just then, but it felt as though she had.
Closing her eyes and nuzzling against his face, Jay hugged the stuffed animal to her, and her eyes popped wide open. She pulled back a fraction and sniffed at his fur, grinning delightedly. “Oh, Katherine, were you testing him out? You just got caught.” Taking another whiff of the traces of Shalimar that clung to her new companion, she knew she would be grilling her big, tough friend about it later. But for right now, she just wanted to enjoy Ted E. Bear’s company and the delicious scent that had been bringing her such comfort for so many years. She decided that a nap was definitely in order, and, carrying her buddy, she trundled off to the loft.
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CHAPTER EIGHT
ate was so tired she wasn’t sure she could even make it up the Kstairs. Not counting the brief nap in the
limousine and the even
shorter shuteye she’d gotten when she and Jay had come back to the house to shower, the anchorwoman had been up for nearly forty eight hours straight. Phil had practically had to prop her up to do the 11:00