Passing Hearts Chapter 2

Passing Hearts

Chapter 2

Amanda

            “I cannot believe it’s been three months since I’ve stepped foot into this office,” I think to myself as I walk through the door to my fifteenth floor, corner office of the World News Network building. I’ve been traveling from every far-reaching corner of Israel, reporting on anything and everything that WNN deems news worthy. It’s good to be back in New York, but that pile of mail sitting on the corner of my desk, is making me second guess coming into work today, instead of staying in bed with the covers pulled over my head. With all of the traveling, flight delays and layovers, and my cell completely dying on me somewhere over Indonesia, I’ve been basically incommunicado for the past two days.

I set my messenger bag and purse down beside of my desk and slide down into my chair. I’m tired and cranky and I really should have stayed at home. Since I’m here, all I can do now is to take a deep breath in, shake off the fog, and get started. One wiggle of the mouse later and I see that I have thirty-five emails waiting, along with a notice for a two o’clock meeting with my editor that I didn’t know I had today. Scanning the emails quickly, at least twenty of them are from my mother. Ugh, this is going to be a long day. I decide to turn my attention to the stack of documents on the corner of my desk. I pull the whole stack over in front of me, and just start with the top. The first thing I run across is the folder with phone messages that were left with my assistant, Gretchen. Thumbing through them, I see fifteen messages from my mother. What could possibly be so important that she would call and email my office so many times? I’ll deal with all of those messages later. I set the folder aside and move on to the snail mail. On top  is a familiar white envelope; one that I’ve seen every year about this time for the last twenty years – the invitation to my high school reunion. This explains the messages from Mother. I really do not want to deal with this right now.

“Ugh! Why did I even bother coming in here today?” I whine as I lay my head down on my desk and close my eyes.

“Because you missed me terribly and have left me here for three months alone, to field calls and messages from your mom. Not to mention leaving me to get my gossip fix from the overly zealous secretarial staff. You know I like my gossip straight up without all of the girly fluff and giggle.” Says the gravelly voice of Gretchen, who is most definitely, the world’s best assistant.

I take a deep breath and smell the heavenly aroma of coffee. Keeping my head down, I mumble, “I will give you a raise if that’s a huge cup of coffee for me.”

I lift my head slowly to look at Gretchen. She’s the epitome of current fashion, and thank goodness for that, or I’d be in definite trouble when I have to appear on air. She is tall, slim, legs a mile long, with long dark hair, and looks as if she should be on a fashion runway instead of my assistant. Today her dark hair is as straight as her charcoal gray pencil skirt. Her pale pink blouse adds just a touch of color to her look and her black, patent leather heels, are every bit of four inches tall. Gretchen is a beautiful woman, inside and out, and I’m very lucky that she took this job. I don’t know what I would do without her.

“Please tell me that coffee is for me?” I finally ask her.

“Did you honestly think that I would come into your office empty handed? Pa-lease!” I take a sip as I lean back in my chair. Looking up at Gretchen, I realize I have missed her sassy banter first thing in the morning.

“Thank you. As always, you’re a life saver.” I take another long, deep pull from my coffee.

Just the way I like it. Strong house blend with just the right amount of half and half. Perfection in a white paper cup!

“I know, you owe me, as always.” Gretchen is still smirking as she takes a seat in front of my desk. “You look like crap by the way.”

“Gee thanks.” I retort. I’m sure my blue jeans, baggie sweatshirt, running shoes, messy bun hair, and minimal makeup doesn’t really help my appearance in the least, but it was the best that I could muster this morning. “You know I don’t do well with traveling all day and trying to sleep when I get home from a long trip. Thank you for the basket of wine and cheese in my apartment when I arrived home, by the way.” Gretchen nods at me. I take a deep breath and get settled for the day. “So, what is the latest going on here?”

“Well, other than your mom calling me every fifteen minutes the past couple of days to see if you’re back in town, nothing new. Tell me you received her messages, texts, and emails, because if she calls again, I might throw the phone against the wall.” Gretchen gives me the same frustrated look I give her while I am on the phone with Mother. She relaxes a little as she sits back in her chair and gets ready for serious conversation.  “Tell me about Israel.” She smiles and starts raising her eyebrows. “Did you meet any gorgeous men? And more importantly, did you bring one back for me?”

“Israel was truly an experience. It is both beautiful and wild in some places. The historical parts are absolutely amazing. The areas where the wars and fighting have reached are terribly sad. Overall, I am very glad that I took this opportunity. I found some true, internal perspective while I was away. I remembered what it feels like to write real journalistic pieces, instead of just thirty second, fluffy, that air on the nightly news. I found me again, and it felt amazing.” I realize I’m rambling, but my ever-faithful Gretchen is just smiling as I go on. I decide to reign in the finding-me part of things and hit the real question that she wants the answer to. “Sadly, no, I didn’t find any specific fellas, nor did I bring one home. I met many different people, but not like that.”

“That’s truly sad Amanda. I send you to another country and you can’t even find a nice guy, with a swarthy accent, to knock you off your feet?” Gretchen sighs, “Whatever am I going to do with you?”

“You know I live vicariously through you, Gretchen.”  She just smiles at that.

“Then you should take me with you next time so I can show you how its done.” We both laugh at that. “Now that we’ve weeded through the important things, what’s this about?” Gretchen leans over and picks up the envelope along with the invitation off of my desk and starts waving it back and forth.

“That, is a terrible reminder of my past and none of your business.” I reply a little more harshly than I intend. I lean forward to try to grab it out of her hand, but, as usual, she is too fast and has already begun reading.

“The Galveston County High School Class of 1994 cordially invites you to the celebration of our Twentieth year Reunion. 7:00 p.m., on Saturday June 21, 2014 at the Glenrochie Country Club. RSVP requested.” I reach out my hand for the invitation, but Gretchen waves it in the air again. She gives me a big smirk. “Ooo-la-la! High school reunion. I have worked with you for six years and have seen these envelopes coming in to your office every year, but you have never gone. So, spill. What’s with the drama?”

“It’s just a long time ago Gretchen.” I lean back in my chair and close my eyes. Images of the terribly nerdy, awkward girl that I was, suddenly come back to me. “I’m not that person anymore, and I don’t know that I want to rehash all of those memories again. High school was not a pleasant time for me. Even the twenty years away from it is has not changed that.”

“Don’t you ever wonder what happened to some of the people you went to high school with? That’s the only reason I go to mine. I had to know if the quarterback is now fat and bald and if the Home Coming Queen is fat, divorced, and living in government housing?” Gretchen is giggling now. I can feel her watching me.

“I don’t care about any of that. Gretchen, I never really had any friends in high school. I was not among the popular kids. I haven’t heard from or talked to any of the people I graduated with. I left town the day after graduation, and other than visiting my mother for a couple of days at Christmas every year, I’ve not been back for anything.” I sit up, open my eyes, and look at her.

“But wasn’t there just one person that you connected with that you would like to see again? Come on, Amanda! You’re a reporter for WNN, who is known world-wide for your work. You should take some time off and show those country folk the person you have become.”

I am beginning to get really exasperated with this conversation. “There was only one boy that was ever nice to me. His name was Trenton. Last I heard, he’s married and has moved on. As for the rest of them, I don’t really care if they see me now or not. I have no connections to that life anymore.”

“So why don’t you go as reporter Amanda and consider this a research piece? Go! Do the research. See who’s gained a hundred pounds since graduation, who’s been married and divorced like five times in twenty years, who has lost their hair, had plastic surgery, and grown another chin! Surely even you are nosey enough to want to know the answers to some of those question! Besides, from the messages that your mom has been leaving, I don’t think she’s going to give up until you say that you’re coming.” Gretchen is looking at me with that ‘I know you’re going to do this’ look that drives me bonkers.

“I don’t want to do this, Gretchen. I don’t have any desire to go back and visit that life again.” I get up from my desk and walk over to the bank of windows behind my desk.

This view of New York has become my home. Other than my mother, there is nothing left for me in Texas. I left that behind many years ago. I don’t know that I could go back and see anyone again, and not feel like I was the girl from twenty years ago. I hear Gretchen get up and move toward me. She doesn’t touch me, she just stands beside me, folds her arms, and stares out over the city with me.

Gretchen’s voice softens, “I get it. I’m not who I was in high school either. But don’t you owe it to that girl you were then, to show up at that reunion as the woman you are now. You made it out of small town Texas, Girl. Show them all.” Gretchen reaches over and lays her hand on my shoulder.

“Ugh! Alright! Alright, I’ll go! Will that please you?” When I turn to look at Gretchen, she’s smiling from ear to ear. “Don’t even go there with me right now. I can’t believe I let you guilt-trip me into going to this disaster in the making. And before you ask, no, I’m not taking a camera crew with me. If I’m going to do this, it’s just going to be me.”

Gretchen does this little girly, squeal thing, jumps up and down for a second, then grasps me in a huge hug. She quickly pulls back, still holding me by the arms. “I’ll make the arrangements. You, call your mom.” And with that, she is out the door, back in her cubicle and on the telephone.

I brace myself as I sit back down at my desk, pick up the receiver and dial my mother’s phone number. I cannot believe that I’m about to do this. The line is ringing.

“Hello?” My mother’s voice comes through the earpiece. “Hello?”

“Hi, Momma. It’s me, Amanda.” I really hope I don’t regret this.