“Are you going to say anything?”
“Well, first I’m going to say that that was a very long story, and you need to learn to go easy on the details.”
“I’ll work on that.”
“Second, I’m going to tell you that truth is more important than anything. Your father and I have taught you that from the beginning.
If there is truth here and you find it, then you should rightly reveal it.
My only request is that you make sure you know the truth, that you don’t reveal speculations. People have been ruined by speculation.”
“I wouldn’t want to ruin anyone.”
“Savannah, if all the speculation that was said about me was believed, I would probably be locked up in a cell with former beauty pageant queens forced to watch reruns of Miss Congeniality all day. But I know what is true about me, and so do the people I love. So, make sure you never contribute to faleshoods about others. Those are the values we raised you by, Savannah. I don’t expect you to act any other way.”
“Nor would I want to.”
She leaned in to make her point clear. “I know on Wednesday, whatever is in the paper will be the truth that you found. And I know that if it leads to speculation about me and how I won, or if I should have won, I will still know what is true and so will my family. All I ask for is excellence, and that’s all you’ve ever given. I trust you, young woman. I trust you because I know you.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
“You’re welcome. And I know that inside of you is a continual struggle to do what is right, especially if there is the possibility you might hurt someone. What is right is always right. The cost doesn’t change that. And I will be just as proud of you no matter what you decide, because I know you’ll do the right thing. You always have. Now, it’s late, my mind’s taxed, and I need some rest. If you need any help, let me know.”With that she got up,walked over to me and kissed me on my head, and made her way to the bathroom to remove her face.
I rose in a stupor. I had expected flash and fireworks. I had expected screaming fits and tears. I had expected drama. But I got a lady. A gentle, understanding lady. A woman who at that moment cared more about my doing what was right than the conflict, speculation, or questions about her that it would cause. That was the depth of this woman’s love for me.
Since tomorrow was my first day working a “real job,” as they call it, I needed to make sure I had myself fully prepared to enter the world of the employed. I’d held down plenty of jobs before, but this was different. This wasn’t one of those college standbys where I could call in at the last minute if I had a stomachache, boyfriend matter, or just felt more like taking in a movie. This one had designated sick time, vacation leave, working hours, and an actual desk I would have to sit behind. The thought of all of it began to make me extremely nervous.
I had really thought that I would spend my years strolling through parks, sitting in diners, carrying my laptop around with me, and documenting the life that passed by. My life would be devoted to developing characters and enlightening imaginations, with little structure and unlimited lunches with friends, being my own boss and creating my own schedule. In short, my life would be like Paige’s.
Until now, these newly defined rules for living had been lost on me. Everything had been such a whirlwind since I had pulled the car up in front of my “Welcome Home” banner, that I hadn’t thoroughly explored the concept of having a real job. Had I, I might not have shown up at all. Needing to redirect my energies, I focused on what I was going to wear. Vicky had provided me with substantial options.
I located a light-gray pair of silk pants with a nice line. I decided to pair them with a pale-pink cotton sweater and gray open-toed shoes.
The outfit wasn’t truly me, but I wasn’t going to be truly me until I could relocate my office to a front table in Jake’s Coffeehouse. Looking out over Bay Street would be nice, but I would much prefer the view at the shop. As good as I was at the art of persuasion, I imagined I could negotiate that by the end of the first month. The possibility gave me added energy.
There I stood, staring at all those shoes and handbags, when this overwhelming feeling urged me to try it all on. For me this was strangely odd. I’m not the kind of person who cares about fashion. As long as an item remotely fits, remotely matches, remotely works, I’m remotely happy. I’m not obsessive about outerwear. I like to look nice, neat, clean, all of those things. But let’s just say I’ve never left a store wearing my new shoes. I’m the kind of person that could bring home a pair of new shoes, throw them in the back of the closet, and forget they were there until I stumbled upon them searching for an old pair of flip-flops. So, this feeling, this need, this momentary weirdness, almost frightened me.
Still, I reached into the first box and pulled out a pair of shoes that certainly were from another time. They were espadrilles. There were a couple pairs of different-colored tennis shoes, and two beautiful pair of slip-on open-toed sandals with a slight heel. One was in camel and the other in black. These would go with anything. Though I wasn’t a big heel wearer, these were so attractive I decided to slip my foot in one, then the other. Staring at my feet in the mirror, they looked slimmer, older, more refined. They didn’t look like mine.
At that moment I was posing. I, Savannah Phillips, was striking a pose. My right foot went in front of my left, in kind of perpendicular form. It was a beauty pageant stance. I was metamorphosing! Then, I grabbed a handbag and slung it over my shoulder. Before I knew it, I was prancing toward the mirror, striking a pose and turning back, flinging myself around so my hair would whip around my face. It was the whipping action that did it. I whipped a tad too fast and about broke my neck . The fall was slow and methodical, but the results extremely fascinating.
Then I caught a really good look at myself in the mirror. There I was—rear in the air, one shoe off, the strap of a purse hanging around my neck, and my hair so whipped my face was invisible. The sight of myself and pathetic genes caused me to laugh so hard I fell over in the floor. “So much for my attempts at striking a pose,” I said out loud.
Collecting myself, I turned my attention to Vicky’s executive ensemble purchases, I picked up the Day-Timer. It was a little black number, fastened with a silver clasp. I transferred all my numbers into it and decided to record my upcoming activities. Monday, May 5, 2002, first day of work 8:00 a.m., lunch with Paige at Clary’s 12:00 p.m.,Tuesday, May 6, first article due! Now, I was ready: an outfit, matching shoes, a Day-Timer . . . absolutely no story.
I laid my outfit across the chair by the window to iron in the morning, picked up a gray purse and matching wallet and laid it by my outfit, then placed my newly organized organizer inside my purse. Then I crawled into bed; but feeling the need to say my prayers kneeling tonight, crawled back out. “Lord, I’m not sure what I’m about to embark on tomorrow. I’m not even sure if I’ve been chasing the right story, but help me know. Somehow, please help me know.” I thanked Him for the day and even the new shoes with the heels. I got back into bed, and somewhere between thoughts of Amber’s cockamamie stories, Emma’s nappy hair, and Vicky’s continual surprises, I fell asleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
At five a.m., only Duke had perked. The sun wasn’t ready, and I was too nervous.
I jogged and tilled and rummaged through my thoughts. My CD of the week was by CeCe Winans. My first lap was consumed with Mrs. Harvard,my first meeting with Katherine, Emma’s first appearance at her door, and the mean old lady who wanted to make jokes with my name. I considered Gregory’s question of whether this was a human-interest story at all.
As my thoughts grew more frustrating, I decided I needed one more lap around the park. This lap was for tilling and not thinking. Duke looked at me as if he would just as soon go back home, but I encouraged him to give it one more shot. After the pain in my right side began and the half-dead dog next to me stopped cold, we headed toward home.
Knowing I had to face work eventually, I showered, iro
ned, dressed, and made my way to the kitchen for something to nourish me until lunch. Mother was already downstairs. She had made a tremendous breakfast: bacon, eggs, homemade biscuits, cheese grits, and homemade hash-brown potatoes. At that moment, Victoria needed to be kissed. I was most willing to oblige.
“Thank you. Thank you! Thank you!” I said, planting a big one on her cheek.
“You’re welcome,” she said, laughing. “I knew you would be excited and would need some extra energy.”
“You were so right!” I said, stuffing a piece of bacon in my mouth as I fixed my plate and sat down.
Mother leaned across the counter and watched me devour my food.“Savannah, you need to quit chomping like that. You have to make a good impression with these people, so if you are going to eat in front of them, you need to get ahold of yourself.”
“I’m sorthwy,” I said with my mouth full, then swallowed a mouthful of juice. “I’m just so nervous.”
“You’re going to do great. You just give them your best story and put your personality in it, and you’ll do great,” she said, standing back up and turning around to put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.
“Do you have any more thoughts on your story?”
“No, ma’am. I’m just going to see what I find out today. I hope Mr. Cummings will call me, give me some more information, but who knows. I hope I haven’t spent the last four days chasing a ridiculous story for no reason. If I have, then, we’ll just have to pull out my handy-dandy ‘Painting with Paige’ article from sophomore year creative-writing class. I figure I’m creative enough to give even that a different twist.”
She still had her back to me, but I could see she was laughing. “I’m sure you can.”
I got up and headed for the door. “I love you, Mother. Have a great day.”
“I love you too, darling. And I know you’ll do a great job. I like your shoes.”
“I do too.”
“I wish you would have worn your hair down. You look so much more ladylike with it down. Don’t you want some jewelry? I have a great silver bauble necklace that would accentuate your gray pants perfectly. I even have a gray straw hat, if you would like that.” I headed for a Coke.
When I entered the coffeehouse, everyone paused and then stared at me with their mouths hanging open.
“I know, I know, I look like a real person,” I said in mock disgust, walking straight for the Coke machine. I picked up a glass that was far too small. “Please tell me you have something bigger than this. I am requiring extreme caffeine.” Mervine smiled and headed into the stockroom behind Dad’s office. She came out holding one of the biggest cups I’d ever seen.
She set it down beside me, patted me on the back, and simply said,“Enjoy, honey.”
I was almost startled. In thirteen years, I had probably heard her speak no more than once per year.
“Savannah, what time do you have to be at your new job?” Louise asked.
“Well, I’m getting there a little early. I want to figure out where everything is and make a good impression,” I said, filling up my thirty-two-ouncer.
“Well, you look wonderful, darling,” Dad said, coming over to give me a kiss on the cheek.
Taking a long drink of my Coke, I took a breather to say, “Well, I’m not sure what newspaper people are supposed to look like, but this is my best shot at acting like I do.”
Then as if a dam had burst, Mervine spoke.“Well, I think you look like a princess, Savannah. You’re going to blow the roof off that paper, and I am so looking forward to reading your first article. You’re going to set this city on its ear.” By this time she had more motions than a tent-revival preacher on a Saturday night.
“And it’s about time we had some fresh faces and new life around here. I think that editor up there needs some new perspectives, and I believe you’re just the kind of person to give it to him. I also believe these young people with their pierced parts need to see a young and refined lady. Sure you have a little edge, but a little edge never hurt anybody. It’s about time someone your age left a mark on their own culture. Who knows, us old people might even learn something ourselves.” Then she stopped talking, returned to the counter, and simply smiled at us.
“I told you she talked,” Louise said.“Doesn’t even take a breath either. That’s what she does from the time she wakes up. Talk, talk, talk. Talks to her kids’ pictures, talks to the TV,my word, even talks to the Braves on TV.”And she walked to the front of the store just shaking her head.
Mervine grinned from ear to ear. Didn’t say another word, just grinned as she followed Louise. Dad and I just stared at each other, dumbfounded.“I have never . . .” was all I could say.
“I have never myself,” Dad agreed, still looking through the door that led to the front of the store. “In all these years, that woman hasn’t so much as asked what time it was. You might better watch out today, Savannah. I believe a new day has come.”
“Well, it’s calling my name. I’ve got to run. Wish me luck!” I did look back one more time, just to make sure that whole occurrence hadn’t been a brief apparition. But when my eyes revealed Dad still leaning against the counter staring in the direction of Mervine and Louise, I knew it was true. Mervine had spoken.
There was little activity at seven at the Savannah Chronicle. People were beginning to mill about, but only a few. I drove to the back of the building and parked my car in what appeared to be the newspaper’s parking lot.
Gathering myself and my new backpack, which I had settled on this morning instead of the purse, I decided to leave my Coke in the car and feel everyone out first. Who knew if they even allowed drinks inside? I wanted to fit in the best I could for the girl whose name had appeared in the paper more times than the mayor’s.
I walked through the front door and at first glance saw no one at the front desk. Then a bright lady with a determined step headed in my direction.
“You look new,” she said as she came around the corner with her hands full of papers. She smiled at my expression.
“So much for hiding my real feelings,” I told her, smiling back at her.
“Well,my name is Doris, Doris Berry. I’ve worked here at this paper for over fifty-five years. Yes, ma’am, fifty-five years. I started when I was eighteen, right after high-school graduation.” She looked good for seventy-three. Her hair was unashamedly silver and she wore little makeup. Only her hands told her age. I imagined this woman had lived well and enjoyed life. And the way she talked about this place caused me to believe she ran the ship tighter than Mr. Hicks.
I tried awkwardly to shake one of her hands, but they were encumbered with the files she was carrying. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Berry. I’m Savannah, Savannah Phillips.”
“Well, it’s Doris, and I know exactly who you are. Yes, ma’am, I know exactly who you are. You look like both your father and your mother. You have her nose and mouth and his everything else. Time will tell whose personality you have,” she said with a wink.“Follow me and I’ll show you to your desk.” I followed her after first offering to help her carry her load. She refused. I didn’t want to make her feel bad, so I never told her I had already seen my office.
We passed a small waiting area and the payment desk.“This is your corner,” she said, leading me to a corner cubicle in the very back of the first floor—no windows, no fraction of a view of the outside world, nothing to see but gray, fabric-covered, Styrofoam-like walls all around me. Perched atop the desk was a computer and a desk calendar. Underneath the drab gray desk was a drab gray wastebasket. I guess the shock of my surroundings must have registered on my face.“Is something wrong?”
“Well, kind of,” I said, hoping not to embarrass her. “I’m replacing Gloria. And I was here Saturday to do some work, and I’ve already seen my office upstairs, next to Mr. Hicks.”
I could tell that she was trying to stifle a grin.“Oh,well, I see, and I hate to tell you this, but you have to work your way to that office, Savannah. Geraldin
e O’Malley, who has been here for twenty years and runs our classified section, is getting that office. This,” she said, pointing to our dreary surroundings,“well, this,my dear, is your office.”
“Oh,” I said, mortified.“That was pretty presumptuous of me, wasn’t it?” I was thankful no one else was around.
“It’s totally understandable. And it will be our little secret,” Doris whispered. I could tell by her kind smile she meant it, and my gratefulness increased.“So, Savannah, this is the world of newspapers. It’s fast and furious with little glamour and long hours. Pretty soon you’ll forget you can’t see the world outside that you’re writing about in here.”
“Is it always this messy?” I asked, referring to the papers strewn about in every cubicle and corner.
“It’s a newspaper, Savannah. Paper is a part of our name.”
“After fifty-five years, haven’t you gotten tired of staring at gray partitions?” I asked her as I stared aimlessly at the sea of blandness in front of me and the chaos that surrounded me.
“Oh, Savannah,” she said, laughing. “After fifty-five years, you get an office on the third floor, surrounded with windows and looking out over Bay Street. Trust me, you’ll adjust. You’ll eventually adjust.” Then she added, “Just an FYI: Most people have laptops today, if you know what I mean. Work is where you make it. Just get acclimated here, then you can work wherever you need to. The only requirement is that your work gets done.”
I knew immediately I was going to like her. “Come on,” she continued.“Let me drop these papers off and I’ll give you the tour. It doesn’t get hopping around here until around eight thirty.” She dropped the papers off on a desk settled even deeper in the monochrome dimness. It was a glassed-in office, however, with a window and a view of the alley. Doris informed me that this office belonged to the editor of the news division, Don Jefferson. Then she informed me that she was the head of advertising.
“No wonder you know me so well.”
“Your mother has about kept this paper in business,” she said laughing.
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