by Hazel James
Me.
Jack Price.
On stage and enjoying the hell out of it.
When the lights came up after Drew’s video clip, I cleared my throat and started the last part of my speech. “Before I leave here tonight, I want to share a few reminders with you. Number one, bullies will never go away. I used to think that when I conquered my stutter, all of my problems would vanish along with the guy who bullied me. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. He’s still out there trying to have a negative impact on my life. The good news is, the older I’ve gotten, the easier it is to ignore him and the less his words and actions hurt me.
“Number two, the worst thing a bully can do isn’t knocking you down, it’s making you believe you don’t deserve to get back up. Every single person in this room matters. You all are worthy of success and happiness, even if that seems unattainable.
“And finally, number three, success and happiness are absolutely possible. It sounds kind of dumb, but when I was in high school, I could never picture having a long-term girlfriend or getting married. I mean, let’s face it. Stuttering isn’t very attractive, is it?” A light round of laughter flowed through the room. “See, you understand me. But I went on to win a bunch of awards as a college swimmer, I earned my bachelor’s and master’s degrees, I run a community library with a robust outreach program, and perhaps most importantly…” I clicked the remote to bring up my final slide of the night—a picture of me and Tuesday in front of Aunt Alma’s Christmas tree. “I got the girl of my dreams. Never lose hope, my friends. Thank you.”
The room erupted in applause as I took a bow and exited the stage. I must’ve been high on adrenaline because the first thing I saw when I stepped off the stairs was a woman in a pink sweater who looked just like Tuesday. And then the woman walked toward me and threw her arms around me. She smelled like Tuesday and sounded like her when she said, “Holy cow, that was perfect!”
I pushed her back to an arm’s-length distance. “Tuesday?”
“Um, yes?” She smiled and did an eye squinting thing like she was confused.
I poked her shoulder and checked her left palm for the tiny freckle that lived in the center. “It’s really you.”
“Who else would it be?”
“No one, but why are you here and not in Mountainside?”
“Well, about that. I sort of quit my job.”
“You what?!”
“Yep. I quit, took an Uber to a rental car office, and drove as fast as I could to Boise. I got here just as you were finishing the Drew Lynch video.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, squeezing my arm. “I’ll tell you the whole story when we get home tonight. Right now, your adoring fans want to meet you.” She gestured over my shoulder, where a line of eager faces stood waiting. “Looks like you’re cut out for public speaking after all.”
It took us a few hours to make it home. Mom knew about Tuesday’s assignment in Mountainside, so naturally, she fussed over her mental and physical health when Tuesday repeated the short version of what had happened. She even checked her for a fever. It was a little embarrassing, but Tuesday was a good sport. I left the hotel with strict orders to emotionally support my girlfriend, including, but not limited to, drawing her a bath, massaging her feet, and offering a shoulder to cry on.
Tuesday assured me she didn’t need any of that, so we settled on dropping the rental car off at one of those nighttime key box locations and stopping at a grocery store for a bottle of wine and a box of brownie mix.
She told me the whole story while the brownies were in the oven. My jaw dropped when she got to the part about slapping him. “I’m a little jealous. I would’ve paid serious money to see that. You think it’s too late to contact the hotel for surveillance footage?”
“Probably, but if it makes you feel any better, I also called him Dicky Dick and told him to go screw himself… except I used the actual ‘f’ word.”
My dick stirred in my suit pants as if to say I know we’re supposed to be angry right now, but Tuesday’s saying naughty words and it’s making me a little excited down here. I shifted on the couch cushion and reminded him that there would be plenty of time for that later. “So what are the next steps?”
“I’m meeting with the HR chief tomorrow to turn in my resignation and file a formal complaint.”
I waited for her to continue, but that’s all she said. “That’s it? What about making him pay?”
Tuesday set her wine glass on the coffee table and hugged the throw pillow on her lap. “I had a long talk with Aunt Alma on the way to Boise tonight. All my life, she’s told me not to get involved in drama, and that the only person who can make me have a good reputation is me. It’s worked for her, so I’ve embraced it as my own mantra. Given the firestorm I accidentally created today, I needed some advice on what to do.”
I sat up a little taller on Tuesday’s couch. “Did she suggest murder? Because I’ve read some amazing true crime books and I’m pretty sure I could get away with it.”
That made her laugh. “First, she said I was right to stand up to Blaine. The ‘stay away from drama’ stuff was more about not making careless comments or divisive posts on social media. She assured me that if he pressed charges because I slapped him, she’d have her legal team take care of it. Then she said to stick to the facts when I made my report and remember that the best revenge is living well.
“That’s sort of in line with what you were getting at tonight during your speech. Bullies are completely ineffective when you stop caring about them. I’ll turn over the information I have to the people who are in a position to do something about it, and then I’m letting it go. This isn’t the end of my television news career, it’s just an end with my time at Channel 3.”
I frowned into my wine glass. “I wouldn’t mind slashing his tires or reintroducing him to the edge of a screen door, but I get what you’re saying.”
The timer went off for the brownies. According to Tuesday, that was also the time limit on discussing Blaine, so she led the way back into the kitchen and segued into my speech. “I know I didn’t get there until the end, but it looked like you weren’t nervous at all.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the keychain she made me. “Turns out this was quite the good luck—”
A slamming noise outside Tuesday’s front door interrupted me. It was almost midnight. Fearing something awful was happening to Mrs. Fairchild, we both rushed to Tuesday’s door. I flipped the lock and flung it open, but no one was there.
“Maybe we should knock to make sure everything’s okay,” she whispered. Before I could agree, we heard muffled voices. “Jack, a man’s inside!” she quietly shouted. “Do you think she’s being robbed? Maybe we should call nine-one-one.”
I held up a finger to quiet her, then pressed my ear against Mrs. Fairchild’s door. The voices were too far away to hear clearly, but she didn’t sound like she was in distress. In fact… “It sounds like they’re laughing,” I whispered over my shoulder, and that’s when I saw it. “No fucking way.”
“What?”
I pointed to the parking lot in front of our building. “That’s Grandpa’s truck.”
Tuesday’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God, is he here for a booty call?”
I barely had time to get her back inside before she dissolved in a fit of giggles.
Tuesday
Jack and I spent the morning role playing. No, not those kinds of roles. Today, I was the warrior and he was the coach. At the gym, he played Eye of the Tiger and the Rocky theme song. For breakfast, he made me an omelet and a smoothie that I’m pretty sure contained protein powder. And when I got dressed, he voted for my black business suit because, well, I meant business today. I was a little bummed that Grandpa’s truck was gone when we walked to the gym, but that was probably for the best. I needed to focus.
When I arrived in the HR suite, the receptionist showed me into Scott Lassiter’s office. My supervisor an
d a security guard were already sitting at the rectangular conference table. Scott shook my hand and sat next to Vanessa as I took the lone chair on the opposite side.
“Good morning. Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice,” I said.
Scott crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “I heard there was an incident yesterday in Mountainside.”
I fought against the urge to roll my eyes. Of course Blaine tattled on me. It was too bad for him that I refused to be one of his victims. Fact number one of today’s battle: I might’ve been sitting in front of my firing squad, but I was the one with the ammunition. “Apparently, salacious news travels fast.”
“It’s not every day that we have an employee follow a reporter on assignment, make a scene in the lobby, and then assault him,” Scott said.
My head jerked back. “Excuse me? I didn’t follow him out there. I was on assignment with him to cover the Shredder.”
Vanessa and Scott turned toward each other and had a silent conversation with raised eyebrows and pursed lips. Finally, he looked back at me. “We only had one reporter authorized to go to Mountainside for the Shredder.”
Suddenly it all fell together. Not only was Blaine’s goal to ruin my relationship, he had no interest in my career whatsoever. I was just a pawn to him. I removed a paper from the manila folder inside my bag and sat up a little straighter. “Well that’s not how it was presented to me. I’ve prepared a statement, which I’d like to read to you now. It may help fill in some missing information.”
Scott nodded. Vanessa shifted in her seat. The security guard looked bored.
“My entire life, I’ve wanted to work as a reporter at a TV news station. I’m grateful for the opportunity to get my foot in the door at Channel 3 and am disappointed that my time here has come to an end, but I cannot work in an environment where I’m forced to ignore my moral compass.
“A reporter’s job is to share the truth. Although I did not work in that capacity at Channel 3, my conscience compels me to report the truth to you. Two months ago, Blaine Stavros invited me to cover the Shredder in Mountainside. I was elated for the opportunity, especially since it wouldn’t interfere with my normal work schedule as an associate producer. When I accepted, he said he would take care of the logistics and told me to not mention my involvement at work to avoid conflict between me and other junior reporters who were not selected for this assignment. Agreeing to cover the Shredder with him was my first mistake and buying his shoddy explanation was the second.
“Yesterday, January twenty-seventh, he made several inappropriate comments and unwanted physical advances as we traveled to Mountainside. During that time, I also learned he spent the majority of his childhood and adolescent years bullying someone I care about. I understand that juvenile antics don’t necessarily carry over into adulthood. However, in this case, it’s clear Mr. Stavros very much clings to those traits. He views himself as someone in a position of power and coerces those around him to bend to his will. He attempted to do that yesterday when we arrived at our hotel. I would like to make it clear that he misrepresented the facts of our reservations when he invited me to participate in this assignment. I do not feel comfortable sharing a room or a bed with a male co-worker.
“When I expressed my dissent, he called me stupid. It is also true that I slapped him, but given the nature of his inappropriate comments and sexual harassment, he’s lucky that’s all I did. I will not be taking legal action against Mr. Stavros or this news station at this time, but I sincerely hope you take the information I’ve given you today and launch an investigation. Thank you for your time.”
I stood up, placed my signed document and employee badge on the conference table, and walked out of the office. The security guard escorted me to my desk under a few shocked stares from dayshift employees. An empty cardboard box sat beside my computer monitor, the international sign of someone who was about to leave the building for the last time. The joke was on them, though. The only thing I grabbed was my wooden cat figurine that Jack carved for me. They could keep everything else.
“How about Honolulu? It’d be nice to see some palm trees,” I said, scrolling through the low-airfare alert in my phone’s inbox. Between wanting to celebrate Jack’s speech and needing a break from reality after the mess in Mountainside, we were embarking on a last-minute weekend getaway… as soon as we figured out where to go.
“Palm trees would be nice, but the time difference could be hard to deal with on a short trip.” He adjusted the sheets and scooted closer to see the screen. When I reached the Ls, he said, “What about Las Vegas? They have palm trees and we’re only one time zone away. It’s a shorter flight, too.”
My mind immediately flipped back to my shopping spree at The Pleasure Chest and my fantasy of Jack dancing in the Magic Mike show. Now that I knew what he looked like underneath the suits he wore, my mental strip tease dove straight into X-rated territory.
“Why is your face turning red?”
It seemed pointless to lie since the star of said fantasy was lounging next to me in bed. “I was just remembering a little daydream where you—” My phone rang, interrupting me and scaring the crap out of both of us. I took a second to calm my laughter before swiping my thumb across the screen. “Hello?”
“Can I please speak with Tuesday Collins?”
“This is her.”
“Hi, Tuesday, this is Scott Lassiter from Channel 3. Do you have a minute to talk?”
Jack’s confused eyes met mine. He was sitting close enough to hear who called, but neither of us knew why the chief of HR was contacting me at nine thirty in the morning three days after I quit. I sat up in bed and quickly switched to speaker mode so Jack could listen.
“Yes, I have time to talk.”
“Excellent. I have you on speakerphone in my office, and Vanessa is sitting with me. We appreciate your meeting with us earlier this week and wanted to let you know we launched an investigation into what happened on Monday during the Shredder. Information from the front desk clerk and the security camera footage of the hotel lobby corroborated what you described in your complaint. We’re sending a formal apology in writing, and we’d like to offer your job back if you still want it.”
Relief surged through me. I honestly didn’t think they’d do an investigation, let alone admit that I was right. “What about Blaine?”
“Welllll, he’s still a Channel 3 employee, but we’re keeping a very close eye on him. He already knows to steer clear of you if you decide to join our team again. Thankfully, that shouldn’t be too difficult given your schedules.”
My brain struggled to think of a response and finally settled on, “Wow.” I facepalmed at my lack of eloquence. “Sorry, you’ve just caught me a little off guard here.”
“Understandable,” Scott said. “Would you like to think it over and call us back this afternoon?”
Jack shook his head and mouthed something that looked like naked. “Scott, could you hold on for a moment?”
“Sure.”
As soon as I hit the mute button, Jack said, “Take it.”
Ahh. That made more sense. “You think I should?”
“Absolutely. You deserve to be on the five o’clock news, and this is the best way to get you there. And like Scott said, you probably won’t even see Dicky.”
I felt my smile growing as I unmuted my phone. “Scott, I don’t need to call you this afternoon. I’d love to come back to Channel 3.”
When I finished the call a minute later, Jack pulled me out of his bed and spun me around the room. “That’s what I’m talking about! Now let’s book our flights because we have some serious celebrating to do.”
Three weeks later, Jack knocked on my door as I put the silicone brownie mold in the dishwasher. Double checking that the towel was covering the plate of brownies, I raced to the front door and flung it open. “Finally!”
He laughed and checked his watch. “What do you mean, finally? It’s six thirty. I’m precisely on time
.”
“I know, but I’ve been dying to share the best news ever with you.” I yanked him inside and headed straight for the kitchen.
“So why didn’t you have me come over earlier? And does the smell of brownies have something to do with your good news?”
“Because I knew you wanted to shower and change after work. I was trying to exercise some patience. And yes, it does.”
“And the good news is…?”
I threw my arms in the air and said, “I quit my job!”
Jack’s smile morphed into a confused grimace. “Again? You’ve only been back at Channel 3 for a few weeks. I thought you were happy there.”
“I am, which is why I quit Cleopatra’s. Now ask me why I had to do that.”
“Why did you have to quit Cleopatra’s?”
“Because the news director offered me a job as a full-time reporter!” I danced around my kitchen like a lunatic, but I didn’t care. I’d successfully kept this secret for five whole hours just so Jack could be the first person I told. It’s a wonder I didn’t do backflips through the parking lot when I got home earlier.
He caught me as I sailed past the stove and wrapped me in his arms. “Babe, that’s incredible! Holy shit!”
“That’s not even the best part. I got the job because Blaine quit! He’s transferring to a station in Kentucky!”
Jack’s mouth fell open. “Are you serious?”
“Yep! I took Dicky Dick’s job! How’s that for karma?” I continued my victory dance over to the plate of brownies. “Before we get started on tonight’s Try It Tuesday recording, I thought we could celebrate my new job and the end of Dicky Dick’s Reign of Douchebaggery.” I pulled off the towel and Jack immediately busted out laughing.