Through the next few days, other things came together. Duke and I went over the numbers, which looked outstanding. Walt looked at contracts with Jim, the business broker. I met the buyer's representatives at Jim's office and shook hands on the deal. I had a seven-day grace period to sign the papers, and we set a meeting for the next week, four days after Christmas. Walt and Jim and I went over the details again, and I left, overwhelmed at how much money would head my way at the first of the year.
I hoped to see my brothers for Christmas, but with the sale about to close, it didn’t work out. Several people invited me over to eat the holiday meal, but I still felt as though I had wronged them and decided to stay home. I even skipped Christmas Eve services at church, skittish about not being welcome there any more. I had a few presents from my brothers and one from Marti to open.
I thought of last year's Christmas Day, when I had staffed the city desk in Dayton. At least this was better than that.
Late in the afternoon, just as the sun was setting on the clear, cold day, I went for a long walk, needing to decide where I was headed after I sold the paper. While I didn’t have to leave town immediately, I knew I did not want to hang around and watch someone else run my newspaper. And Asheville was still open and needed an answer.
As I walked back up the road into my driveway, Chris's dogs came running out to greet me, frisky in the chilly air. When I looked up, Chris was standing at my front door with a plate covered in aluminum foil and a small gift.
“Oh, there you are,” he said. “I thought you were avoiding me and wouldn’t answer the door.”
I laughed, even though I didn’t feel like laughing, and invited him in.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, leaning over and giving me a kiss on my forehead. “I heard you didn’t get to go home for the holidays, so I brought you some of my mama's world-famous turkey and dressing and a piece of pumpkin pie and a little present.”
“But I don’t have a gift for you,” I said, embarrassed.
“Not a problem,” he said. “I’ve had a great time just getting to know you these past few months. That's been a gift for me. I’m sorry I’ve not come by sooner.”
Since it was too cold to sit on the porch swing, we settled on the sofa, once more sitting close. When I opened the package, I found an unusual piece of old green pottery. “That was my grandma's,” he said. “I noticed you like that stuff.” He motioned toward my collection lining a weathered bookcase.
I turned the piece over to look at the mark on the bottom. It read, “Route 2 Pottery.”
“They used to make it down the road there years ago,” he said, pointing toward the crossroads, “where that little old church house is.” I turned and gave him a huge hug and a quick kiss. My stay in Green had many moments that would rank in the never-forget category, and this was close to the top, his gift, his visit, his friendship.
“I know we haven’t been friends for long,” Chris said, “but I hate to see you go. It's going to feel mighty lonesome out here on Route 2. I’m happy for you, though, getting a good price for the paper and all.”
Tears came into my eyes, and I looked down at the small green pitcher. “It's really hard to leave, but it's what I need to do.”
“I wish you all the best.” He stood to go. “Maybe our paths will cross again some day. Maybe you’ll come visit us from the big city.”
The next day at work I tried to finish everything that needed doing and began to put my few personal belongings in a box. I decided to leave two pieces of art as a gift for Molly and Katy. They might not appreciate them now, but someday they would.
I left work after everyone else, planning to drive up to Shreveport and spend the night. My closing appointment was extremely early, and I didn’t want to hit the road so early— plus, I felt the need to distance myself from Green before I took this next step. As I walked through the lobby, I noticed that someone—Katy, no doubt—had painted the name of the paper at the bottom of the list of death notices on the window, complete with a skull.
At first I was so irritated that I started to demand she clean it off, but then I stopped. Was I killing The News-Item? Would corporate owners take good care of this paper and care about it and care about Green? I loved my little paper.
Aunt Helen popped into my mind. “What are you running away from?” she had asked. What was I running away from?
I had friends here, people who loved me. I had something going with Chris. My work was fulfilling. I was helping others make a difference in the community. I wanted to learn more about the faith and hope I’d begun to have, and I could do that here.
So what if the summers were hot? I did have air-conditioning.
“Help,” I whispered, sitting down on the steps of the paper. I looked around, hoping to see a rainbow as I had done that day in Zach's office or to hear the word “stay.”
I laughed at my foolishness, and a wave of peace washed over me.
I went back into my office, unpacked the box and called Walt. I knew I needed to tell the broker Jim immediately that I had changed my mind, but I wanted to see where I stood legally first.
Walt hooted when I told him. “I knew you’d never sell that paper,” he said.
“You did not.”
“I really did,” he said, “but, whew, you came pretty close, didn’t you? We’ve got a mess on our hands.”
“But I have a grace period,” I said. “We haven’t closed on the deal.”
“I’ll take care of it for you,” he said, pausing, “even if you did dump me.”
“I didn’t dump you,” I said, “and thanks for handling it. I owe you big time. I’ll sing at your wedding or speak at your funeral or help you get elected governor. Just get me out of this.”
I was being awfully flippant for someone giving up a nice wire deposit to her bank account and making a fairly big media corporation very angry. I couldn’t help it. I felt so good.
“And, Walt, I’m going to need your help in changing some legal papers right away.”
“I’ll call you at home as soon as I wrap up with Jim and the corporate guys, and we’ll do whatever we need to do.”
My next call was to Duke, who also laughed loudly.
“You nearly fooled me,” he said. “I couldn’t believe you’d sell your precious Item, but I had my doubts these last couple of days.” He volunteered to come over to my office right away to help me sort out the changes, especially what I needed to tell the bank.
The next day I spent holed up at my house, meeting with Walt and Duke and working out a million details. I didn’t want to go downtown because I knew that Iris Jo and the others thought I was in Shreveport selling the paper. I wasn’t ready for them to know differently.
One of my more unpleasant chores was calling the publisher in Asheville, severing that option. He was gracious and congratulated me. “Running your own newspaper is something very special,” he said. “Enjoy every minute of it.”
Zach, however, was peeved when he got the word and called me later that day. “You’re burning bridges here, Lois,” he said. “You really should follow through on this position.”
The day after that, December 31, I breezed into the newspaper with three boxes of doughnuts. I had never breezed anywhere before, but today I definitely breezed into The News-Item. Someone had washed the newspaper's name off the window, and I smiled.
“Mighty cheerful today, aren’t we?” Tammy asked. “Didn’t figure we’d see any more of you around here. See you brought some doughnuts to celebrate your big deal.”
“You got it,” I said. “Would you get everyone to gather around in the newsroom?”
Grumbling, Tammy made the rounds through the newspaper plant, pulling everyone together in the news area, just as we had done the day I started. I set the doughnuts on a desk and looked everyone in the eye—people I had not known only a year ago, people who meant so much to me today.
“I think most of you have forgiven me for being an idiot,” I said. “I ma
y not deserve that forgiveness, but I accept it with great appreciation.”
I wasn’t sure how to continue and thought I probably should have written my remarks down. I could tell they figured I had come to say “goodbye” and were ready for me to get on with it.
I took another deep breath. “I have backed out on my deal and, if you’ll have me, I intend to stay in Green.”
Everyone rushed at me, laughing and crying and talking all at once. I held up my hand.
“I need to tell you something else. I have set a profit-sharing plan in motion that will make each of you owners of the paper, in line with how many years you have been here. This paper would not be the paper it is without each of you, and I can’t thank you enough.”
If I thought the room had been wild a few minutes before, I was wrong. It exploded with people hugging me and cheering and yelling, “Happy New Year.” It was a very fun moment.
Just after lunch, Walt and his father appeared in my office. Walt told me more about how he had “gracefully” backed me out of the deal. “In the end, while the corporate brokers were aggravated,” he said, “it was just business to them.”
His father held out an envelope, addressed in the old-fashioned script that I recognized as Aunt Helen's. “As you know, Walt and I have been the newspaper's lawyers for many years, and I was also Helen's personal attorney. She asked me to give you this when you decided not to sell the paper.” He smiled.
I opened the envelope to find the deed to the house on Route 2 and a two-word note. “Welcome home,” it said.
That night I slipped into the back pew of Grace Community Chapel. Katy and I had visited for a long time earlier in the day, and she had invited me to the New Year's Eve services, being led by members of the small youth group. I was delighted to see her friend Molly there and several teens I did not recognize. The lights were turned down low, and candles flickered on each windowsill.
Katy had not told me she was giving the main message, but I was not terribly surprised when she stood up. She spoke of what a hard year it had been for her and others and how life sometimes just didn’t seem fair.
“But so much good comes to us, and we have to learn to appreciate it and not waste any of it,” she said. “God calls each of us to do wonderful, special things with our lives.” She announced the scholarship fund we were setting up in memory of Matt, and Iris Jo looked as though she would cry for the second time that day.
“Most of all,” Katy said, staring straight at me, “I have realized that all you have to do is your part. You do your part, and watch what God will do. Grace and peace to each of you in the New Year.”
Just as the service ended, Chris looked back, saw me and moved into the pew beside me. He touched my arm. “I’m glad you’re staying,” he whispered.
“So am I.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Green News-Item Golden Pen Awards Given
The Green News-Item would like to thank its wonderful community correspondents, who regularly contribute such great local news to your newspaper.
The Golden Pen Award for outstanding “News-Item Community Item” this year goes to Suzanne Zitto. Close runners-up are Paul Christie, Alisa Stingley, Ginger Hamilton, Martha Fitzgerald, Mary Ann Van Osdell, Teddy Allen, David Christie, Mary Frances Christie, Craig Durrett, Carol Lovelady, Eleanor Ransburg, Sarah Plunkett, and Alan English.
In addition, the staff thanks those faithful newspaper sup-porters—Alisa Stingley, Kathie Rowell, Barbara Montgomery, and Paul Christie. Thanks, too, to Etta Wilson, Paul Franklyn, Barbara Scott, and Jenny Youngman.
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Discussion Questions
Gone to Green is told in first-person through the character of Lois Barker. How would you describe Lois to a friend? What are her best characteristics, and where does she falter?
Early in the story, an unexpected “gift” from a colleague confuses Lois. What causes her misgivings? Is it a mixed blessing for Ed to pass along a business with strings attached? Did he believe Lois would move down south? Have you ever been thrilled and upset by the same event?
Lois makes an important choice early in Gone to Green, setting in motion a variety of other changes. How might things have turned out if Lois had chosen to stay in Dayton? Why do you think Lois decides to move to Green? Do you find life's decisions are usually clear-cut or require a struggle? How do you make decisions?
The community of Green plays a key part in this story. How would you describe the town to someone about to visit? What is special about it? What needs improvement? What is the role of downtown?
Green changes Lois, and she changes the town. In what ways does it have the greatest impact on her life? How does she most change the community? List some of the changes that occur in Gone to Green and consider how you might have handled them. Do you find it easy to deal with change? Have you ever gotten tangled up in change? Is Lois bothered by change?
If you were a community correspondent for The Green News-Item, what would you write about?
What does Lois's attitude about Green tell us about her as a person?
Living out on Route 2 affects Lois in unexpected ways. What might have been different had she lived in a new condo on the lake? How is her rural neighborhood a community within a community? Do you think people differ by region?
As the owner of the newspaper, Lois encounters a host of challenges. If she were not a journalist, how might her life as a Green newcomer have been different? What are the biggest obstacles she faces?
Lois gets to know a variety of people in Green, including young Katy, Aunt Helen, Dr. Kevin Taylor, Eva Hillburn, Pastor Jean, Walt, and Chris. How does each influence Lois?
In what ways are Dub and Chuck McCuller, Lee Roy Hicks, and Major Wilson similar and how do they differ? What impact do they have on Lois?
How would you describe the journey Lois is on? What parts do career, geography, relationships, and spirituality play in it? Have you considered how different areas of your life affect one another?
What advice might you give Lois as her journey continues? Are there areas in your life where you might want or need to grow or change? What will Lois have to deal with as she continues to develop?
Bonus chapter from book two in the Green Series
Goodness Gracious Green
1
Don’t be fooled by the sweater vests.
That was my first thought when I looked through the window and saw the Big Boys standing on my porch on New Year's Day. They looked like high school social studies teachers except for the grimaces—and the briefcase.
Of course, in my sweat pants and Mammoth Cave t-shirt, I looked like a high school gym teacher myself. Maybe I should have chosen the shower over the second cup of coffee.
I opened the door, hating to start my second year in Green with these two.
“Good morning, Chuck, Dub,” I said. “What brings you out to Route 2 so early?” I shivered as a chilly wind blew and stepped aside for them to enter. “You might as well come on in.”
The two men exchanged a brief look and glanced around at the old cottage I happily call home. “Haven’t been in here in a while,” Dub said. “Aunt Helen loved this place. Lots of memories.”
Chuck threw his brother an impatient stare and interrupted in a harsh tone. “We’ve heard some disturbing things around town, Miss Barker. We need to talk to you.”
“Business matters, newspaper business, family stuff,” Dub said, looking just the tiniest bit apologetic. “We want to straighten this out before it goes any further.”
/> I motioned to the couch, hoping they would take a seat and give me a moment to collect my thoughts. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“This isn’t a social call. We need to talk to you right away,” Chuck said.
“So you mentioned,” I murmured, wondering what could possibly have pulled these two men away from home on a holiday devoted to televised football, one of their favorite activities in the world. “I guess you’re not here to tell me Happy New Year.”
Chuck, the bossy brother, started to stand up, reconsidered, and sat back down. “We’re here to buy back The News-Item,” he said. “We want it back. We’re prepared to make you a good offer.”
“A real good offer,” Dub said.
“The paperwork's all drawn up, and we’ll give you a check today.” Chuck clicked open the leather satchel and pulled out files. His brother fished in his pocket and produced an expensive ink pen.
“But … but … ” I actually sputtered. “The Item isn’t for sale. I own The Item. The staff and I own it.”
“Of course it's for sale,” Chuck said. “Everything's for sale. We heard about that ridiculous little profit-sharing ploy of yours. Won’t work.” He held out a check and waved it in my face. “This is a generous offer. Take it. Take it.”
I stepped back, thinking of the water moccasins that lived in the pond across the road. Chuck looked ready to strike at any moment. Country living had its drawbacks, and neighbors who lived closer might be nice right about now.
“I’m not sure what this is all about, but let me emphasize that The Green News-Item is not for sale. I have established a partnership with the employees, and we have big plans. If you want to talk business, set up a meeting at my office. End of story.”
I had struggled for my paper and its staff and my wonderful new life. Green meant too much to me to even listen to these men today.
Gone to Green (Green (Abingdon Press)) Page 19