“He still drinks. I’ve smelled it on him.”
“Sadly, yes.”
“Thanks for telling me.”
Dad nodded at the notepad. “You didn’t write anything. You sure you have the facts straight?”
“There’s no story to write.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Jack’s car wasn’t parked in its usual spot the next morning, and Meg breathed a sigh of relief. Her father had told the truth, but what good would it do to run the story? It would only cause trouble for Dad. He hadn’t done it to break the law. He’d merely been trying to help a man who desperately needed assistance.
She entered the office and passed Emily without stopping. At her desk, a note from Jack sat under her paperweight.
Meg, I’m meeting the mayor for breakfast. Oscar is coming in this afternoon for a couple of hours. Let’s try to wrap up your story this morning when I get in. Jack
She crumpled the paper and threw it into the waste can. The decision was made, and she wasn’t changing her mind.
Jack waited for Meg to take a seat across from him. He couldn’t wait to tell her all the wonderful details of the grand opening celebration the mayor had shared over their toast and eggs.
He grinned, enjoying the way her blue dress draped over her shapely legs. She had no idea how attractive she was, a trait he found most appealing. She returned his smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She must have had a bear of a time with her father last night. Hopefully she had the article done. He’d already composed the headline: Cover-Up Exposed—Local Man Jailed Off the Record.
She crossed her ankles and gave him a vacant stare as her tight smile dissolved.
“Meg, are you okay?” Dumb question. Of course she wasn’t.
She nodded.
After an awkward moment, he said, “I take it you spoke to your dad?”
“Yes.”
“Then the story is ready?”
As though someone lit a match, fire filled her eyes. “I can’t write it, Jack.” She straightened and jutted out her chin. “I won’t betray my father.”
“What did he say?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t tell you.”
His abdominal muscles tightened. Weren’t they in this together? The newsman in him wanted to shake sense into her. But his heart twisted at the pain in her eyes. The newsman won the battle. “Where’s your fighting spirit? If you learned answers—”
“You’ll have to write the article if you want it printed.”
“I can’t, without knowing what you learned.”
Meg’s face blanched. “You’ll have to ask my dad.” Her eyes shifted from Jack to the floor and back to him. “I’m sorry. If you prefer me to resign now, I will.”
What kind of ogre did she think he was? He looked her in the eyes. “Of course I don’t want you to leave the paper. In fact, I was hoping you’d change your mind about leaving town at all.” He ran his gaze over her face. “Since we’re seeing each other now.”
She blinked. “You were?”
He ached to comfort her with a hug. But it was best not to in the office. “Yeah. I thought that since we’re a couple now, you would change your mind, or at least delay making plans until we see where this is going.”
She stared at her lap. “I already promised Helen I’d move with her if I got the money from my dad. I can’t turn my back on her now. Not without good reason.”
His heart felt as if it’d just been pierced with a saber. Wasn’t he enough of a good reason?
She stood. “I’ll have the King article you assigned yesterday done in a half hour.” She turned on her heel and marched to the door.
The door closed, and Jack exhaled. Was it only a few minutes ago he felt like he was king of the world? He was finally right with God, his dad seemed to be improving, and he had a girl he adored. But maybe Meg didn’t care as much for him as he thought.
Jack dusted Oscar’s desktop with his handkerchief and set the folder containing the week’s articles on the shiny surface. A dull ache pressed against his conscience. He felt more like a kid preparing to confess sneaking out after dark than a man telling his boss that they’d kept the truth hidden to protect his health.
A chorus of “Welcome backs” drifted from the outer office. Jack hustled into the newsroom. A much thinner Oscar stood next to the switchboard as the ladies fussed over him. The same shock of white hair crowned his head and he wore the same glasses, but his suit appeared to be at least four sizes too big. Had he returned too soon?
Oscar waved at Jack. “There’s the man who’s been keeping the ship afloat. I’d better check on his work.”
“Mr. Wallace has been doing a great job, Mr. Zimmer.” Emily bounced on her toes. “Miss Alden too.”
Meg’s face paled, and she took a step back from the others.
Jack hurried across the room and shook Oscar’s hand. He had to straighten out this mess as soon as possible. “They’ve all pulled their weight around here, Oscar. I waited for you to set up this week’s front page.”
Zimmer nodded. “We can’t keep Composing waiting. I’ll only be here a few hours.”
“The doctor said no more than two hours, Dad.”
Jack smiled at Lester where he stood a few feet back from the huddle. “Les, good of you to bring your dad.”
Lester scowled. “Seems that’s all I’m good for anymore.”
Ignoring Oscar’s curious expression, Jack led his boss across the room. “I think you’ll be pleased with the stories we’re running this week.”
Jack waited for Oscar to sit in his desk chair then pulled a chair around next to him.
Oscar picked up Meg’s story on Wayne King. “Sure you want this above the fold? If it were grand-opening week, I’d say fine, but that’s several weeks away. Isn’t there any hard news?”
Jack’s thoughts raced. “Nothing worthy of the front page. I had something else, but the lead dried up. I stuck the King piece in to fill the space.”
“Was it the story you were chasing over at the sheriff’s office?”
“Yeah. Without the source, it didn’t have legs.”
“Probably just as well.” Oscar scanned the King article. “Well-written. Did my boy do this?”
Jack’s mouth turned dry. “Not that one.”
Oscar set the story on top of the other articles and closed the file. “I was afraid you’d say that. Go ahead and give the guys the folder.”
Jack dashed to Composing. Already, the guys would work longer than usual, even for a Wednesday. He returned to Oscar’s office. Zimmer had removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Jack pulled his chair back around so they could face each other.
Oscar ran a hand through his hair, the effort failing to rearrange his cowlick. “How’s your father?”
“He’s responding well to the mountain air. Mom is planning on attending the Riviera’s grand opening. They both wanted to come until Dad became ill.”
“Any idea when he’ll return home?”
Jack shook his head.
Oscar removed his glasses and polished the lenses with his handkerchief. “Did you say the managing editor has taken over the Beacon?”
Jack nodded. “You heard right.”
“I appreciate your faithfulness to the News-Trib, Jack, but if you prefer to return to the Beacon early…”
A heaviness pressed on Jack’s neck and shoulders. He should head down to Chicago, but Dad had been emphatic that Snow be given a chance. He’d have to go eventually…for Kate. But he enjoyed what he was doing at the News-Trib. “I’ll think about it after you’re back full-time.”
Oscar grinned and returned his spectacles to his nose, looping the sidepieces over his ears. “That’s a relief. As soon as I spoke, I thought I’d dug my own grave. Who could run the paper as well as you?”
Jack squirmed. “I’m sure you’d find someone. Oscar, there is something I need to talk to you about.”
The phone jangled and Oscar grabbed it. “Zimmer.” He
grinned. “Yes, in the flesh, but only for a short time.” He covered the mouthpiece with his hand. “This is going to take a while. I’ll call you back in later.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
That evening, after the waitress at the Geneva Grill brought their coffees, Helen leaned forward on her elbows, her platinum waves falling forward to frame her face. She looked at Meg. “I’m glad you called today. Beatrice is visiting, and I had to give her and Mom time without me to work out their plans for after I’m gone.”
For the first time, Helen’s voice lacked the usual enthusiasm whenever she talked about moving. Meg frowned. Maybe her friend wasn’t as much on board as she had been. She dismissed the thought. “I’m glad too. Today was quite a day.”
Helen sat back. “I’m almost afraid to ask what happened.”
She stuffed down the temptation to blurt out everything going on with Dad and Fred. Helen would never consider herself a gossip, but more than once she’d told Meg things she’d heard from her customers. Meg had to be careful. “I can’t say.”
“Is it about you and Jack?”
The waitress reappeared, platters of sandwiches and chips balanced on her arm. While she placed their orders on the table, Meg pondered Helen’s question. “It’s work-related.”
Helen added mustard to her sandwich. “Did Jack spend Easter with you?”
“We went to the sunrise service.”
Helen lifted her cup to her upturned lips. “That sounds interesting. Sure it’s not about that good-looking man?”
“I’m sure. Mr. Zimmer came in for a while today.” Meg stirred sugar into her coffee.
“He’s strong enough already?”
“He appeared frail and wasn’t there more than an hour.”
“He’s lucky to be alive.” Helen took a bite out of her sandwich and returned it to her plate. A dollop of mustard clung to a corner of her lip.
Meg lifted the bread on her chicken sandwich and wrinkled her nose at the sparse dollop of mayo. “Thanks to Jack, the bad situation resolved itself.”
Helen wiped her mouth. “It does have something to do with him.”
Meg took a small bite of her sandwich. She ached to tell Helen about Jack kissing her in the park, asking her to be his girl, and how she practically floated through the weekend. But she didn’t want to cause Helen to worry that she was going to back out of moving. “Indirectly, Jack is involved. It’s something I shouldn’t be talking about outside of the office.”
Helen shook her head. “You’re confusing me, but I guess you still haven’t given yourself a chance to see if there’s something between you and Jack.”
“We like each other, but I’m sure that as soon as Mr. Zimmer is healthy again, he’ll move back to the Beacon, what with his dad being sick.” She lifted her coffee cup in a salute. “And we’ll be on our way to California.”
Helen relaxed against her chair. “Last week I was making a list of what I need to take with me, and a nagging doubt at the back of my mind kept saying, What if Meg and Jack get together and she won’t want to move? I kept telling myself I’d be happy for you and I’d be fine setting out alone. That maybe Mattie would still let me stay with her for a while even though I don’t know her like you do.”
Meg blinked at her tears. Who’d been more committed to her than Helen? Friends since grammar school, she’d let Helen cry on her shoulder when her boyfriend left her high and dry after graduation. And when Matthew ditched Meg, who was there to hold her up? Helen, of course. For years she’d heard her friend go on about her dream to move to Hollywood. Meg couldn’t back out now. She’d never live with herself. She reached across the table and grabbed Helen’s hand. “Dad gave me the money on Saturday. Book those train tickets. We’re going.”
Helen bit her lower lip, leaving a speck of lipstick on her tooth. “Thanks, dear friend. You know, you’re so lucky to have a father. Yours may have resisted giving you that money, but at least he was there to give it to you. Think of how he saved it for you all these years despite this depression. You have no idea how blessed you are.” She palmed away a tear.
A surge of guilt washed over Meg, and she looked away. Helen’s dad had deserted her and her mom when Helen was about three. Meg realized she had taken Dad’s provision for her, Laura, and Mom for granted. “I’m sorry, Helen, for not thinking. If you knew how often I’ve envied you for not having to deal with a father like mine…”
Helen signaled for more coffee. “I guess the grass on the other side is always greener, as they say. Let’s call it even and talk about the move.”
Two weeks later, Meg sat on her bed and stared at the playbill from the high school senior class play. Having finally gotten her cast off yesterday afternoon, she begged off attending the play that had all but disrupted the family routine for weeks. Instead, she spent the time doing the exercises the doctor had prescribed to get her arm back to normal…and trying not to think about leaving Jack.
It hadn’t taken long for their coworkers to realize that she and Jack were dating. Of course, none of them knew she planned to move away, so as far as they were concerned it was only a matter of time until he proposed to her. Sadly, despite his claiming that he wanted her to stay to see how things went between them, he still hadn’t expressed a word of how he felt about her. Just as well, because without his saying those three little words, it was much easier to fulfill her promise to Helen.
She turned to the cast acknowledgments inside the trifold playbill. When Mom had handed it to her last night after she and Dad got home, she said, “Thought you’d like to see Laura’s acknowledgments. She thanks you for the example of courage and tenacity she needed when she was asked to take over the lead with only four weeks’ notice.”
Meg had skimmed the paragraph. Then, blinking at tears, she’d laid it down. “She was probably asked to say something nice.”
“Maybe, but she didn’t have to say those exact words.”
Now, nearly twenty-four hours later, she reread Laura’s words. She’d had no idea Laura felt that way. Ever since she could remember, they’d gone at each other like they were the world’s worst enemies. Now Meg was going to be living thousands of miles away. By the time she returned for a visit, Laura would likely be out of college and married or teaching school. Strangers, despite being raised in the same family. Were the few weeks she had left in Lake Geneva enough to mend years of hurt?
God, I still struggle. Help me.
She ached to call Jack and talk about it, but he’d said he needed to spend time at home that afternoon, and even though he was her boyfriend, she’d never be the one to call him unless it was an emergency.
The next morning Meg left for work early, the letter of resignation that she’d rewritten several times tucked between her coin purse and her ever-present notebook in her handbag. By the time Jack called her last night after supper to see how her afternoon had gone, everything she’d thought she wanted to talk about escaped her memory. All that mattered was hearing his voice, like always.
She got to the office and pulled the long, slender skeleton key she’d carried for years out of her purse. How pleased she’d felt the day Mr. Zimmer gave it to her. Giving it back to him would feel like she was giving up an appendage.
Across the newsroom, light spilled out of Mr. Zimmer’s office. He wasn’t scheduled to come in until afternoon, and Jack hadn’t mentioned coming in this early. Maybe he couldn’t sleep either. She ambled to the open door. “Good morning, Ja—Oh! Mr. Zimmer.”
Oscar Zimmer glanced up from the stack of mail he was sorting. “Morning, Meg. I see I’m not the only early bird today. Thought I’d come in now. Mornings are my best time.”
He’d put on some weight, but was it too soon to have him back? “Well, I hope you don’t overdo.”
He held up two fingers in a salute. “Scout’s honor. I have strict orders from the missus to come home the moment I feel weary.”
“Good. I’d better get to work myself.”
“Why are
you here so early?”
“Just am.” Behind her, the morning stillness seemed to shout at her, “Do it now!” “Do you have a minute?”
He pushed the stack of mail to the side. “No time like the present.”
“I’ll be right back.” Meg stepped out of his office for a moment, so she could retrieve the letter from her handbag and collect her thoughts. As she approached Mr. Zimmer’s door, she paused, suddenly feeling drained of her determination. Once she handed over the letter, there wouldn’t be any turning back. She took a deep breath and stepped into the office.
He squirmed as deep furrows appeared on his brow. “Must be serious, if you’re closing the door.”
“It is.” She took a seat, wishing away the tremble in her hand. “I’m turning in my resignation, effective May thirty-first. After the News-Trib night at the Riviera.” She set the letter on his desk and pushed it toward him.
He ignored the envelope and removed his glasses. “I thought you loved working here.” He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and blew his nose.
“I do, but I’m moving to California. Mattie Nordman’s boss is holding a typing pool position for me at the Examiner.”
“I’ve thought about Mattie often. Glad she’s still in the news business.” He returned his glasses to his nose. “I’d hoped you’d tire of nagging me about a reporter job and be happy with the status quo. Especially since you and Jack have come to be close friends. But I guess you got a taste of newswriting while I was sick.”
“Actually, I’d already realized I needed to go to where change is happening, before you took ill.”
He looked her in the eyes. “What if you never make it to reporter? Not everyone is so liberal to hire a woman.”
“I can’t not write. I have to believe I’ll become one eventually.”
Love Finds You in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin Page 23
