"Mary Lane is your cousin?" That had his attention and his thoughts shifting into another gear altogether. It wouldn't hurt to shift hers as well even if the daggers he saw continued to fly.
"Yes. And contrary to your definition of friendship and loyalty she knows what both mean. More, she lives it."
"You never mentioned it and God knows it would have been a heck of a story. And you sat on it." He didn't bother hiding the accusatory tone.
She heard the question, more she heard the accusation. She rounded on him and pushed him backwards with the appearance of a friendly tap. "Let me show you what I found yesterday while we were digging around up in the attic." She led him over to the front coffee table hoping the pretense would keep Mary puttering around in the kitchen and not playing peace maker. When she was certain they were out of immediate hearing range she lit into him.
"Don't even begin to think I have a problem taking my cousin on over any little scheme you have cooking to work her into thinking a story on her would make all things just dandy for me. We've been related since birth so I don't have any problems with going to the mat with her. And once I've made sure she doesn't give you piddily squat I'll shove you right out that door without a single thought. And if that doesn't work I don't have a single solitary problem calling the police, especially being that I've got relations in the department." She blatantly lied. "They'll believe my side of the story even before they hear yours." She stared at him, then just in case he still didn't understand how strongly she felt Casey addressed it for him on his level, one she knew he would understand. "Just how do you think the big brass on the top floor would take it if they knew yours truly had a strong familial connection to the former Senator and now current White House Chief of Staff?" She watched that little tidbit sink in.
"How did you know about that?" Mark demanded once he'd found his voice again.
"I figured it out a couple of years ago when I was researching the campaign."
Mark studied her, thought about his wife's parting words. "You never said a word." He stated the obvious, a sure sign of his surprise...that he could find nothing else to say.
"If you weren't talking about it," she paused letting it sink in. "If you weren't covering it," she added for emphasis, "then it was none of my business."
"Are you two coming or not?" Mary called from the kitchen.
"We will talk later." Was Casey's only statement as she led the way toward the kitchen.
After all three were seated, Mary studied both of them. She'd heard pieces of their loudly whispered conversation. Enough to know that along with what their visitor had said during their bickering at the front door that there was more going on than what Casey may have picked up on caught up as she was in being angry, irritated, and betrayed.
"So," she started, getting both their attention. "What kind of speculation did Casey leave behind when she left?" At Mark's speculative look she added, "My husband has been in the corporate world for most of our marriage so I figure they probably all operate the same way." She shrugged, Daniel loved it. She wouldn't have lasted a week. "It doesn't take much imagination to know an exit like hers would cause speculation, gossip, conjecture..." she waved her hand in a flutter of motion. "And pretty much who else knows what." She stirred her coffee pensively, thinking it out herself especially considering Casey's background in reporting before she moved to the anchor desk. "I would bet it ranges from petty personal possibilities, scandalous impossibilities, to ridiculous paranoia." She looked up at Mark again. "Would that be a fair guess?"
"Very fair." He took a deep gulp of the coffee that was better than any he'd had in the last twenty-four hours. "I can see where Casey gets her intelligence. It runs in the family." And that meant, he realized quickly, he had limited means to achieve what he'd come for. He could tell Casey wasn't happy. Her cousin had opened up a door she thought she'd slammed shut. So, for the first time in a long time, he dealt with it in the only way he thought gave him a fair chance of success. Honestly.
Though he spoke to both he looked directly at Mary. "It ranges. And it's all over the board. Some think you're pregnant." He looked over at Casey and wondered at her odd expression. "There's probably a sizable pool on who the father is and speculation on that alone ranges from ridiculous to impossible." He took another sip, suspecting this was where it could get touchy. "That's the lower end of the scale. On the other end, what you refer to as the paranoia end," he nodded in Mary's direction. "There's the speculation you're fleeing for your life which then leads those who subscribe to that theory to wonder why. It's amazing the creative thinking that goes on in the building considering what we do is supposed to be based on facts." He ignored Casey's snort. "Unfortunately, though it says little about them some of those folks are at the upper end of the spectrum, including on those top floors you referred to." He aimed a pointed look at Casey, "As well as some who aren't even at the network." He kept his gaze on Casey, saw her own speculation and hoped she was putting it together on her own. "I have an idea that might lower the paranoia levels of those folks who are really my only real concern." He lifted his hands, palms up, in a gesture of frustration. "It's actually Terry's idea." His wife was full of them and in this instance she'd had one of the best he'd heard.
"Go on." Casey knew that admitting he'd discussed it with Terry said a lot. Mark had never been one to seek or accept advice.
"If you were to consider doing some occasional pieces, roving reporter type of stuff," Mark began only to be quickly interrupted.
"No." Casey felt like pulling her hair out and then his.
Mary reached over and placed her hand over Casey's tightly fisted ones. "Let him finish."
Grateful for the intervention he spoke quickly. "You do some pieces of your choosing. I don't care if they're hometown nostalgia, travelling the Mississippi, for that matter feel free to do one on your favorite childhood recipe." He glanced over at Mary thoughtfully but knew better than to press that point at least for the moment. "The intent is to show you're actively working for the network even if it's on a limited basis while you deal with, I don't know, family issues, whatever you want to say. I don't know that I'd go with personal issues or anything too vague because that will flare the pregnancy speculation into overflow...not that it really matters since time will put that particular fire out." He cut himself another piece of the cake. The creamy topping was awesome and wondered about taking some home to his wife whose sweet tooth rivaled his own. It might also get him back on her good side. "Anyway, it calms the paranoia factor which is my biggest concern. You're not hiding, you're not angry with anyone, you're just dealing with things and still doing stories for the network." He held up a hand. "And as time goes on you do fewer, they become farther apart, until your absence isn't a major question mark." He looked at her and shook his head. "Which walking out right before air time and sending numerous people into panic overload about your safety and well being did in a very public way."
Mary patted her cousin's hand, grateful as she felt it relax slowly under hers as Mark spoke. "Casey," Mary began carefully, knowing her cousin far better than the man sitting across from them. "I think you should at least consider that this situation," she paused at the look on her cousin's face, caught her eye and held it. "At least the situation as it has evolved into, isn't all his doing." She stood, needing the movement. "And in his way he's trying to help you with if not a more gracious exit, then at least one that gives you what you want in the long term." Mary watched the comprehension filter through as Casey realized then understood that starting something brand new required leaving all the old behind. In this case it also meant making sure all the old stuff didn't follow you around.
Casey swallowed most of what she wanted to say instead staying silent until she could control what came out of her mouth. Mary was right. She knew she was right. But she wasn't happy about any of it.
As he watched the quiet interaction between the two women Mark decided he'd done the best he could for the momen
t and a temporary stay was the better order of business. He often thought that corporate politics was far more straightforward and temperate than the dealings of the female mind. Something he and his wife had gone over and around more than once. They had never agreed on the issue deciding instead to agree to disagree. But in dealing with those situations in his marriage he had learned over the years there were those moments when time worked better than pressure.
"I'm going to head back to the hotel." He announced into the silence as he rose, carried his plate and cup over to the sink. "I would appreciate knowing where you got this cake. I'd like to take some back to my wife." As a peace offering, he thought to himself.
"How is Terry?" Casey asked without hesitation. They had been friends, very good friends for a long time.
"Not very pleased with me at the moment." But he was pleased she asked, and knew his wife would be as well. "The cake may get me on her better side at least long enough to plead my case."
"You're in luck." Mary walked with him to the door, she didn't say anything when Casey stayed seated. She'd pushed enough for the moment. "I can get you some before the day is out. A friend of mine makes them for pin money," she fibbed royally. "I'll give her a call and have them for you by tonight." She had no doubt they would be talking again before the day was out. Casey had decisions to make and this wasn't a man to putter around a thousand miles from where he needed to be.
"Thank you. I'll give you a call later."
Mary walked back into the kitchen after watching him drive away. She hummed softly though for the life of her she wasn't sure why. While she thought the situation had turned out better than it could have, she also knew that Casey wouldn't quite see it that way. At least not at that moment.
"You think it's a good idea."
"I think it's a fair trade." Mary corrected.
Casey looked up from the piece of cake she'd hadn't taken a bite from and had instead stared at it like it held the secrets she needed answers to. The pleased expression on Mary's face made her think through the conversation that had just taken place, trying to see if there was something she'd missed. Then she said the same to her cousin.
"You didn't miss anything. You just didn't look at it the same way." Mary tidied up where nothing needed tidying thinking that in some ways her cousin was acting like one of her children, grown yet so often clueless. "You're looking at it as something you're being forced into."
"Isn't it?" And wasn't that the whole of it, she thought.
"Only if you see it that way." Mary sat down with her. "Look at all this stuff." She arched her arms outward, and in doing so pointed at and encompassed the whole of the rooms beyond them. "We've got all this stuff we found, some that is valuable to us and no one else, it has no real monetary value but we'd never part with it."
Casey nodded, wondered where in the world this particular lecture was heading to. It was early and she had never done early all that well.
"And then we've also got stuff that means little to nothing to us for one reason or another. In some cases we don't know where or who it came from so it's hard to attach any real sentimental value to it. Some of it we know exactly where and who it came from but because of what it is it doesn't hold the same value to us as those things that do...like the family bibles," she clarified, wanting to make sure Casey understood the direction she was going in and followed along. "But instead of trashing those things as many would in our situation we've found another way to make something out of it."
Casey was beginning to see where she was going with it. "You're saying I should make something out of it even though I'm going to hate every minute of it."
Mary sighed. Just like her children. "We're not just making something out of it, Casey. In some cases we're talking essentially junk like those old Christmas cards to and from people we have no clue who they were and you're using them to make something that works for you." She tilted her head, wondered what her stubborn cousin would think about what she'd been tinkering around in her mind since Mark had made his proposition. "That works to your advantage." Mary paused, decided there would be no time better than now. "And," she began, "I think that for one of the last segments, or reports, or whatever you call them," she watched her cousin carefully. "I think you should get the interview that everyone has failed to." She held her hand up halting the commentary before it began. "And in the process put everyone in their proper place. Show them all who you are, what you can do, and go out on a positive note." She watched the thought filter through. "Casey, it can be done to where it works for us, both of us."
Casey thought through it, thought about the possibilities. "What about you, you've never given an interview." But it would be a coup if there ever was one. "You've always hated the very thought of it." Which was the very reason she'd never asked her cousin for one.
Mary waved it away. "I've never given an interview for one reason and one reason only. I don't particularly trust the process." She leaned back, thinking, "We'll have to work things out to where whatever you send in is used without any editing."
"They can still just play clips of it." She'd done it herself.
Mary understood where she was going. You could play twenty seconds of a five minute interview and put an entirely different spin on the whole. "Then we'll just have to plan it out to where their clips don't deviate from the whole, won't we?"
Casey stayed silent, wondering if such a thing was possible. She'd been on the other side and knew all too well how it all worked.
Mary continued. "And you need to think about what else you want to do stories on, stories you want to tell, the way you want to tell them."
Casey saw the possibilities. Lots of them as she set aside her irritation over being manipulated into something she hadn't planned on. Then another thought struck her. "You didn't send him to Grace's for the cake because he might recognize her."
"You betcha." Mary nodded as she spoke. "I'm going to walk up there right now, get the cakes and talk to Grace about it." She smiled gently at Casey. "It's all about choices, Casey. I don't know what your boss has done that you don't trust him but what he said makes sense." She sighed. "You moved in a world few do, you know what most people don't, you conversed routinely with people most people can't conceive of. You were exposed to situations and information that the average person doesn't have and may never have access to. It's not surprising that there was some rampant speculation and worry over your sudden departure. When people are caught off guard they tend to let their imaginations flow and usually the worst case scenarios take precedence. You know that as well as I do."
"It's not like I'm going to go out and blab to all and a-sundry."
"No. I know that. You know that. Even Mark seems to know that. But that still leaves a lot of people who don't know that. And that's what Mark understands and is trying to help you to alleviate. He's trying to help minimize all those potential crazy imagined scenarios and what could come from them. There are a lot of people who really don't know you Casey, don't know who you are other than Anchor Casey and all the secrets she might know or have access to."
"Anchor Casey," she snorted. "That makes me sound like some sissy."
"I've never known anyone less so than you. But think about it, this would clear your slate and you could do so in a way that works for you." She leaned forward, ideas running through her own mind. "Think of it this way if you must. Mark may be doing you a favor."
Casey had already begun to see that. "I don't particularly care for him to know that."
"Then we simply make sure he doesn't figure it out."
"Okay, okay." Casey let herself consider more than the personal angst of Mark showing up at the place she saw as her personal and private retreat. "You're right," she agreed. "This might work," she smiled at Mary, letting herself see it as Mary was. "For both of us."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"So, instead of sending him over here to pick them up, I'm doing that for him." Mary concluded at the end of
her explanation of the situation that had taken place earlier that morning.
Grace wandered the store with Mary who was as always peeking around for anything that caught her fancy. She had decorated most of her house with odds and ends she found in these aisles. And as she followed along with her, listening, she wondered how much she had allowed her own situation to keep her from seeing things as clearly as Mary was able to. She obviously saw Casey's situation in a different light, certainly different from how Casey did. At least until Mary's view had helped her to see things from a different perspective than her own. How tinted had her own view been of her circumstances three years ago Grace wondered, and how much of it remained so now?
"Anyway, I need a couple of the coffee cakes for him and I'd like one for myself if you have enough." Mary poked down through a stack of neatly folded vintage towels that included some other kitchen linens mixed in with them. She pulled out one that caught her attention, slowly withdrawing it from the stack and was pleased to find out that it wasn't the towel she expected but instead a wonderful tablecloth.
"I've got plenty," Grace made a mental note to bake more of the coffee cakes that night. She crossed her fingers and hoped she was doing the right thing knowing if she was wrong she could end up paying dearly. "I don't mind if you send him here. He probably wouldn’t even recognize me." Which was what she desperately hoped for.
Mary looked up, surprised. "And if he does?"
Grace considered it...found the possibility didn't send her over the cliff as it might have in the beginning or even a couple of months ago. "If he does, well it won't be the end of the world. And even then it may mean little to nothing to him other than a good source of those coffee cakes he apparently enjoyed." She watched Mary pull out another tablecloth, shake it out and put it in what she assumed was her growing 'I want' pile. "How was Casey after he left?"
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