The Christmas Edition

by Robin Shope

  “My spot is just fine. I owe you an apology.”

  “About what? You just got here.”

  “You know…the crack about the Internet connection.”

  “Forget it. We are behind the times here when it comes to technology. I don’t notice it until someone like you comes along to remind me.”

  “I’ll try to be on my best behavior from now on.” He crossed his heart and held up two fingers like a Boy Scout.

  “No, just be you.”

  He caught the glint in her eyes. “What you lack in technology, you make up for with other things. More important things.”

  “Like what?” Lucy laid her fork to the side and gave Joe her full attention.

  “Valuing the important things in life and just finding a way to work around everything else.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “I value those things, too, but I sometimes forget. Thanks for the reminder.” Joe took another huge bite of hamburger.

  “Tell me about your family.” Lucy picked up her fork.

  He pointed at his mouth. Chewed. Swallowed. Drank water. “Nothing to say. I’m an only child. My parents died in a car crash when I was in college and I inherited their estate.”

  “I am sorry to hear that, Joe. I can’t imagine being alone in this life. I love my parents and brother so much.”

  Joe watched the expression change on her face. She became wistful and teared up. It made him want to comfort her even though there wasn’t anything really wrong. Lucy had a way of making Joe want to take care of her. He suspected Lucy could take care of herself. Somehow he had to convince her she needed him. It was the only way to get her to open up, find out what he needed to know.

  “But it sounds like your parents might have left you a nice amount of money to help you get a good start on life, not that it could take the place of people you love. It’s just that you speak as though money is not an issue for you.”

  “Money is always an issue. I have just enough still invested that the amount of my paycheck isn’t the issue. Not right now anyway.” Joe took another bite of his meal, this time smaller, and picked up his pen. After writing down a list, he said, “These are just a few ideas. We need to come up with more thoughts for tourist attractions, something that would be indicative of life here in Turtle Creek that no one else can claim, and then write articles about it. I read online about a town nearby that is known as The Circus Town.”

  “That’s right. Circus Town is Delavan. Just down the road from us.” Lucy seemed pleased he had studied about the area.

  “It has got to be a huge draw.”

  “I did a photo layout for them a few years ago. I must admit capturing the credit of being Circus Town did do a lot for their summer tourism. Gordon Yadon, the town’s historian, can be credited for that.”

  “Does Turtle Creek have a historian?”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Lucy giggled over the thought.

  “Let’s come up with something you can apply your photographic talent to that is right here under our noses, so close we haven’t been able to see it yet. By the way, I’d like to see your portfolio.”

  “I don’t have an official portfolio. At least not one that is all bound together in the same book. What I do have are piles of pictures oozing out the sides of folders. A few of my photographs are hung in Dad’s office.”

  “That gives me an excuse to use his office for a while. I’ll make a point of seeing them.” Joe stared at her so long Lucy looked away. “Sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I seem to be apologizing a lot today.”

  “If it will make you feel any better, tomorrow will be my day for apologies,” Lucy chided.

  “I’ll look forward to it.” He smiled over his glass of water before taking a drink. “Here’s another thought, newspapers can win awards for really good writing on titillating subjects.”

  “Does that mean you will be sticking around for a while?” Lucy asked.

  “Do you want me to?”

  “I have time this afternoon to get a list of those awards.” Lucy sidestepped the question. “It’ll be helpful to read through them to find out what the judges look for.”

  “Let’s get some of those awards with our name on them.”

  “I agree. Maybe that will be enough to scare off the other newspaper that wants to come to town.”

  “Another newspaper wants to come here? That doesn’t make sense.” Joe shook his head.

  “I couldn’t agree with you more. I thank God for sending you to us. We may have a fighting chance now to stay alive.” Lucy started scooting to the end of her side of the booth to leave. “And that means you, kind sir, have a deadline that is due by five o’clock today.”

  “Already? I love a challenge.” Joe was mesmerized by Lucy’s quick smile, her water blue eyes, and uninhibited enthusiasm. All he could do was shake his head and laugh. “No problem. I all ready have an idea.”

  Grace dropped off their bill just as Bing Crosby sang I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas .

  The Christmas Edition

  The Christmas Edition

  Chapter Six

  Joe sat down at the computer and began writing.

  Joys of My Journey

  by Joseph McNamara

  I’m a trailblazer and a new resident of Turtle Creek—a city escapee.

  Joe tapped out the first words of his first editorial.

  “Looks like you’re off to a great start.” Lucy patted his shoulder and then left him to his work as she set to hers. On her computer screen, she looked up information about awards given to newspapers for articles and shorts. She compiled a list of them with the category and part of the States the papers were from. Then she pressed print and dozens of pages later she had quite a nice dossier of research.

  Lucy and Monica spent the rest of the afternoon reading the pieces. Impressive. All of them. Soon after the first of the year they could get serious about this. Lucy looked out the office door at Joe. He was the only one who had the writing skills to win any award, and even then, it might be a real long shot. She watched Joe wondering how long he’d stay. Maybe she should draw up some kind of two-year contract for him to sign. Her dad wouldn’t go for the idea but she sure did. With him taking a break, she could do what she felt was best for the business and Joe was best for the business.

  Lucy closed the office door and then called John Friedman, a high school chum who graduated a few years ahead of her. Nowadays he had a thriving law firm in Milwaukee but vacationed on Delavan Lake, only a couple of miles away. Whenever John was in town, he’d give Lucy a call. It was always a last minute arrangement and she’d meet him at some dreamy, romantic location for dinner. Every summer she could plan on taking a moonlight ride with him around the lake.

  Although they were quite fond of one another, the relationship never developed. It seemed to remain in the ‘maybe someday’ stage. Emotionally, her old fiancé, Steve, always seemed to get in her way. Since John sensed this about her, he remained at a respectful arm’s length. Somehow Joe had leaped that gap and walked right into her heart.

  Today she needed John’s help. She smiled thinking of him and tapped her pencil on the desk. When his secretary answered, Lucy asked, “Hi Karen, this is Lucy Collins.”

  “Lucy, hello. How are you?”

  “I am wonderful, thanks for asking. Is John in his office today? I need to speak to him.”

  “As a matter of fact, he’s in court right now. May I have him return your call later?”

  “That would be great.” Even though John already had the information, Lucy left the numbers for the paper and at home. “Please be sure to tell him this is really important.”

  “Will do,” she promised.

  Lucy hung up the phone. She looked around the office planning her cosmetic changes to the room when she became manager. Her father was near retirement age, although he insisted he would die at his desk before he would give up work.

  Holding onto the past was different tha
n valuing the past. She valued the past but wanted to update things. As a little girl, she played here at the newspaper when her grandfather ran the place. Outside of replacing the typewriters with computers, very little had changed since then. The world was changing and they needed to change right along with it. Perhaps they needed a visual. There was something she remembered that used to hang in the office and wondered if it had been tossed out or stored away. Lucy found the key for the back shed in the desk top drawer

  She trudged through the snow to the large storage building and angled the key into the lock. Lucy pushed open the door and began to look around. There were dusty, old typewriters from the early 1900s. She depressed a few keys and the arms still sprang up and smacked against the roller. There were also old newspapers that had turned yellow with age. Some of them dated back to the 1920s. She wondered why these had been left out here exposed to the heat and brutal cold. They should be valued and kept in better conditions. Fortunately, the shed had remained dry and rodent free all these years. Now Lucy began to envision a newspaper museum. At lunch, Joe had encouraged her to think of something this town had that none of the others did. This certainly fit the description.

  In the far corner, she found what she was originally looking for. Turned on its side was a large wooden map of the United States. Her grandpa had purchased it when he took over the paper from his dad. Outdated to say the least, it was an artifact she wanted on the wall of The Turtle Creek Newspaper.

  Lucy hauled it back to the office where she cleaned it up. She sent Carol out for a laminated current map of the states. Together they hung both maps on the long wall, side by side. The older larger map showed far fewer towns than the newer map. A bell jingled over the door as Harold walked in unexpectedly.

  “Hey, Dad, I thought you were taking time off?” Lucy narrowed her gaze at him.

  “I am taking time off and this is how I choose to spend it. I came by to see how things are going here.”

  “Let me get this straight. You are using your vacation time to come back to work?”

  “Yep. I love your Mother, but she is bugging me to fix things around the house. I had to come here just to get away from her.”

  “Now that you are here, I want you to see what I did.”

  “Does it involve a fire extinguisher?” he laughed.

  “Did I hear you mention a fire extinguisher?” Joe looked up from his work on the computer.

  “You heard me right. Years ago when Lucy joined us fulltime at the paper, she decided the place needed some sprucing up. In her mind that included making it smell better, too.” Harold rolled his eyes. “She lit a potpourri candle and promptly left for lunch.”

  “When I got back, there were two fire trucks parked in the drive,” Lucy recounted.

  “The candle burned down one side of the office and our old break room to boot, but once we got our insurance money, we were able to rebuild the east side of the wall, get a new break room, and purchase all these computers.” Done with his clarification, Harold turned his attention to his dad’s old map. “Lucy, I thought we threw that smelly old thing away years ago.”

  “No, I found it in the shed.” Lucy felt protective of it.

  “Well, it’s still not too late; let’s throw it out right now.”

  “No, Dad, it’s part of history. Our history here at the paper.” Lucy looked over the newer map. “How many little papers do you suppose there are across America these days?”

  “Oh, I’m sure there are more little papers than large.” Harold rocked back on his heels.

  “Wouldn’t it be cool to become pen pals with one of those papers from a remote area?” Lucy asked, bubbling with ideas. “Joe and I had a working lunch and brainstormed while we ate. My ideas haven’t stopped. They keep rolling in.”

  “Joe is good for us in more ways than one.” Harold put his arm around his daughter’s shoulder.

  “How so?” Lucy looked up at her dad.

  “Not only is he good for the paper, but he’s good for you, too. He’s put color back into your cheeks,” he whispered as he pulled at her cheek.

  Lucy touched her cross. “One step at a time. One day at a time. I cannot afford another regret.”

  Harold breathed deeply. He sang out, “I still smell spring in the air.”

  Lucy looked outside at the snow. “Not for a long time yet, Daddy. But I am looking forward to Christmas this year which is a nice change.”

  “Me, too. Pumpkin, me, too.” Tears welled in his eyes. Suddenly he turned gruff as he always did when he was feeling sentimental. “Now where did you put my Santa hat?”

  “Go look in your file cabinet. I think I saw it there under those awful, salty potato chips you hide from Mom.”

  “Potato chips? How did those get there?” he scratched the top of his head. “While I am in there, I think I will lie down and take a nap on my old couch. Vacation can be tiring.” Harold went back to his office and closed the door.

  Joe called across the room to Lucy. “I overheard your idea about having another paper as a pen pal. It’s genius! Publish their letter each week. Have residents write in to ask questions. It’ll be interactive. Hey, dare I ask if the newspaper has a website?”

  “I know you’re going to really hate my answer, but no.”

  “I’ll mark that down as something to do after the first of the year.” Joe wrote on a sticky note and slapped it onto the wall.

  Lucy walked back to his desk. There on the wall beside his desk were many yellow and pink sticky notes. “Wow, look at you. There must be at least ten lists on your wall all ready.”

  “I like lists. They keep me on track and in focus. I have several for every topic but I have them color coded and put them in a straight line down the wall.” Joe knocked on the wall a couple of times. “Each column is a new topic.”

  The front door bell jingled as Mike walked in. He looked like he was in his usual good mood until he saw the person sitting under the yellowish radiance of his mother’s porch lamp. Just then Abe came out of the men’s restroom and accidentally whacked the back of Joe’s wooden chair with the door. It jolted his shoulders and neck. “Oh, sorry! Are you okay, man?”

  “I’m fine, Abe.” Joe rubbed the back of his head. He slowly got up from his chair and looked around to see how his desk might be moved away from the ever-popular swinging door of the bathroom. Joe grabbed a hold of the edge of the desk. It didn’t want to budge, but eventually, Joe was able to force it along the tile floor. It made a harsh grating sound, fighting Joe every inch of the way toward the window. Once he got it in place, the cord couldn’t reach to the phone jack for his internet connection.

  “Oh no,” Lucy lamented.

  “It’s okay!” he assured Lucy. “I have my laptop with me back at the apartment. I will bring it tomorrow. I even have a very long cord. Long enough to scoot my desk over to that window and still reach the connection.”

  Monica sat at the reception area filing her nails. “It’s refreshing to have someone who is inventive around.”

  “Are you saying I am not inventive?” Mike asked half joking.

  “You are but in different ways,” Monica let him know.

  “Mike,” Lucy stepped toward him, anxious to change the subject. “What did you find out?”

  “I have driven all the roads of Walworth County for the last eight hours. Here are a dozen towns that go all out for the holidays. Knock yourself out and pick the ones you want to write about.” Mike handed her the list, shot Joe a nasty look and then walked out just as Ulilla arrived.

  “I’m so cold,” she complained as she limped to her desk. She sat down, huffing and puffing. After sneezing several times in a row, she pulled the last wad of Kleenex from the box and blew her nose. “I feel miserable. I spent my entire lunch time at the doctor’s office.”

  “What did the doctor have to say?” Joe asked.

  “Nothing because I never got in to see him. There were a whole lot of sick people who got there before me,” Ul
illa said disgustedly and then promptly sneezed again. She pulled off her coat and then unwrapped the scarf from around her neck. “Is there a box of Kleenex somewhere that I can have?”

  Joe found one on the supply shelf. He walked it over to Ulilla and set it down on her desk next to the computer. He touched her forehead with the back of his hand. “You shouldn’t be here. You have a fever.”

  “I do feel really miserable.” Ulilla looked up at Joe with sad, puppy eyes.

  “Let me call the doctor and make another appointment for you.” Lucy went for the phone.