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.
