by Robin Shope
Wanted: Editor for local paper. Must possess the gift for words, the ability for expressing oneself that will make people want to read more. Please apply in person.
Ullila nudged her. “Have you read Joe’s last editorial.”
“Can’t say that I have.” Lucy looked at Ulilla.
“You know, you are holding onto an attitude you have no right to own.”
Lucy stopped typing and looked at Ulilla.
Ulilla continued, “You need to read this.” She dropped the paper, opened to the editorial section, on Lucy’s desk. Lucy read the title, Saying Goodbye . She held it out to Ulilla who was sitting back at her desk. “I’ve already read it.”
“Not this one.” Ulilla shook her head emphatically.
Lucy scowled at Ulilla over her persistence. Then she looked down at the paper. She began to read out loud.
Saying Goodbye
by Joseph McNamara
What will I ever do without Lucy Collins? Ever since that first day when I stumbled into The Turtle Creek Newspaper and took the job of editor, I have never been the same. From the first moment, I saw her some emotion began to wake up inside of me. It was like mapping an unknown land, and each turn led me further away from all that I knew. Ever since that day, I’ve been a mess.
The big newspapers serve a purpose, sure, but they don't contain the atmosphere and warmth that emulates from the owners of The Turtle Creek Newspaper. From that first day, they welcomed me as their family. Mr. and Mrs. Harold Collins, along with Lucy and Mike, always greet me, and everyone, with a genuine smile. They noticed me. Me.
The Turtle Creek Newspaper is where I first met Lucy and wrote my first editorial. That night, I decorated a Christmas tree with the family. How can I forget the protective nature of Mike Collins who immediately knew I wasn’t what I seemed to be?
I’ve had a nicer time in their living room than any place else on this earth. Since meeting this family, I have lived a different life. Cried countless tears. And have laughed out loud so often, and so hard, that my stomach still aches from the memories alone.
How does one say good-bye to such a place?
With my last editorial.
I walked into the newspaper a few weeks ago. It’s located on the corner of Wisconsin and Walworth Avenue. It’s so far off the beaten path that residents twenty miles away do not even know it’s there. It’s like the Gene Kelly movie Brigadoon. I sit in the back of the office, where the light is bad but the view is perfect. I try to imagine the other generations of the Collins family having lived, loved and worked here. I feel I know them. They are in the woodwork, in the chair where I sit, and at times, I think, I can even hear them speak to me.
The office is always really busy with dear Ulilla Langston who writes the social column, Carol in advertising, Abe who makes us clean-up after ourselves, Harold who keeps us on task, and his wife, darling Margaret. For a brief moment I was a part of all this.
The paper is a stabilizing source in the community. A twenty-year-old housewife said she found her children’s bedroom furniture advertised in the paper. A forty-year-old truck driver said his first job was delivering the Turtle Creek paper as a boy.
But for me, it was Lucy Collins who made the difference. Not only is she a gifted professional photographer, but she’s also the love of my life. For that fact alone, I can never really say goodbye to her. I won’t even try. Instead I will say, see you in my dreams, Lucy.
Lucy hugged the article to her. “You’re right, Ulilla. This is so beautiful and different from the first one Joe wrote. This one is just for me. Maybe I do still have a chance with Joe. I can only hope that it’s true. Thanks for insisting I read it.”
“One would think by now that you would be fully aware of my sound advice.” Ulilla bristled. “That’s what I loved most about Joe. He recognizes talent and encourages people to just go for it!”
“That’s very true.” Lucy admitted. She thought of the numerous times he complimented her photography.
“Joe recognized my talent when he was here and suggested I not only have the society column but add another column to my resume.”
“And what would that be?” Lucy asked.
“It’s something I need to discuss with your dad when he gets back at the first of the year. Joe feels we need an advice columnist too and says I would be perfect for it,” Ulilla gushed.
“Oh, like a ‘Dear Abby’ column?”
“Yes, but this one would be called Darling Ulilla!”
“Okay, Darling Ulilla, here is your first bit of advice to give. What should I do about Joe?”
“You already know what you should do. No sense in asking me, is there?”
“You’re right.” Lucy drummed her short fingernails on the desk. She looked at the phone. Her first choice was to call Joe. It was faster but also the cowardly way out. She needed to see him face-to-face, toe-to-toe in order to apologize. If God answered her prayer, maybe Joe would forgive her and return to Turtle Creek with her. She had to at least try.
“I’ve made an awful mistake,” Lucy’s voice quivered.
“You sure have,” Ulilla answered. “Love can be problematical. If you wait to figure it all out first, you will be older, like I am, when you finally realize it’s best to just embrace love and figure things out along the way.”
“I don’t know where to find him.” Lucy fought back her tears.
“I do. He didn’t leave his forwarding address with those two newspaper fellows, but he did leave it with me.” Ulilla smiled proudly as she opened her desk drawer and took out a paper with his address and phone number.
“When did you get this?”
“Joe gave it to me at the same time he dropped off the referral for me to see a specialist about my knees. He is setting up the whole shebang for me.”
“Wow, that was really nice of him.”
“He’s the best!” Ulilla hummed.
Lucy put the information into a map program on her computer to get the driving directions. She read the turn-by-turn directions and was horrified to see that Joe’s address was in the heart of Chicago. She was used to country roads using signposts as her guide. These directions would take her down cement streets that were filled with fast moving traffic and one-way streets. Now she was about to tread into new territory that was confusing to her but made perfect sense to Joe. Well, if Joe could master country roads, she would give his city driving a whirl. She imagined she might get run over trying.
The Christmas Edition
The Christmas Edition
Chapter Twenty
December 29
She was determined to get a good night’s sleep so she could get an early start the next morning. Lucy wanted to be in Chicago before rush hour even started. However, her night was a restless one. She turned over. And over again. The moon was out and Dancin’ in The Moonlight played in her brain. Then she flipped back in the other direction. She stared at the face of the alarm clock. The arms didn’t seem to move. Okay, they did move but slowly. Golly the ticking of it was sure loud. It needed to be replaced. Lucy laid flat on her back thinking about the words she would say to Joe when she saw him. At dawn, she dragged herself out of bed even though the sky still looked like the pitch of midnight.
Lucy had her clothes laid out from the night before. A pair of new jeans and her pink sweater seemed to be a good choice. The sweater fit her small frame. She could still wear the same clothes she did in middle-school. Who knew? She must be nervous because even her thoughts were rambling and there was no time to waste thinking about clothes. Not that what she wore really mattered. What she said to Joe today mattered. She still wasn’t sure what that would be. And now her mind was numb from lack of sleep.
Downstairs her mother was already in the kitchen. It was unusual for her to be up this early but Lucy chalked it up to a restless night for her, too.
“Here, I made breakfast for you. You can’t drive to Chicago on an empty stomach.” Margaret placed the plate of bacon and e
ggs on the table for Lucy. “Want some hot chocolate?”
“Actually, Mom, I don’t want anything at all. My stomach is queasy with nerves as it is. I just want to get going.” Lucy grabbed her coat and headed for the door.
“Sit, sit.” Margaret pointed to the chair and pulled the coat out of Lucy’s arms. “Eat a piece of bacon.”
A chaotic mix of hope, worry and doubt churned Lucy’s insides to such a degree that she could not eat anything but she took a piece to appease her mother. “I’ll just eat this since it’s what I need, protein. Love you.” She gave her mother a tight hug as she pulled back her coat. “Say a prayer for me today.”
“I have been praying all night long. Everyone down at the newspaper is praying for you, too.” Margaret called, as Lucy headed out the door.
“That’s good to know. With a miracle from God, I’ll be driving home with Joe’s vehicle in my rearview mirror.”
“That would make us all happy. I’ll put fresh sheets on his old bed and hang a clean towel on the bathroom rack, just in case.”
“I’ll tell Joe just that.” Lucy went out the door and hopped over little mounds of snow along the way. She knew her mother was standing at the kitchen window watching as she scraped the ice from her car’s windows. It took Lucy a full minute to get the near frozen door open. As she headed out the drive, she tooted her horn to her mother.
When Lucy left Turtle Creek, it was all of twelve degrees and blustery, too. She drove through sleet. The early morning shadows combined with frigid temperatures forced Lucy to be extra careful on the winding country roads. She passed a closed service station and was pleased she had a full tank of gas. She hoped that once she reached the Interstate the driving would become easier due to the traffic and snowplows. But it wasn’t to be.
The dirty snow along the Interstate was unlike the pure billowy snow along the country roads. A few times her car fishtailed over patches of ice. Each time she let her foot off the gas and steered in the direction her car was sliding. In seconds, she had the car under control—until the next time. The road conditions forced her to drive well below the speed limit, which produced long blasts of car horns and inappropriate waves from fellow travelers.
On the two and a half hour drive to the city, Lucy kept replaying the past month in her mind. Why hadn’t she just gone with her faith and what her heart was telling her? If she had, there might have been a happy ending for her. Chances of that happening looked as bleak as the weather right about now.
A thousand words of explanation passed through her mind, wondering which one would be the key to unlock Joe’s heart and grant forgiveness. Even if he did forgive her, it didn’t mean he would automatically come back to her or work at the newspaper again. Joe had been a gift to them all and she let it fall between her fingers.
Feeling more and more upset, Lucy almost missed her turn. At the last minute, she was able to make her exit by cutting off another motorist. “Sorry!” she waved to the man.
Minutes later, she was driving through downtown Chicago and over the Illinois Bridge, streaming right along with the traffic as though she belonged here. Lucy looked at the skyscrapers that shot up from the cement. There were so many people jammed into one spot. It was another world here with the sky nearly obliterated with structures built of concrete and glass. It looked nothing like her world. But this was Joe’s world.
The noise level hurt her head and it seemed everyone had their own system of driving, none of which she considered safe. No one let her slow down so she could read street signs. Finally, she gave up and found a public parking lot. Right now from what she just experienced, she felt it was safer on foot. Lucy found the parking attendant and showed him the address.
“Can you tell me where I can find this?” Lucy pointed at the paper.
“I sure can,” he pointed across the street. “It’s that building right there.”
“God sent me to just the right spot to park my car!” Lucy felt like jumping into the air and clicking her heels together.
“I guess He did just that.” The man agreed and then turned to help another customer.
This was just the encouragement Lucy needed. Her spirit welled with faith over having stumbled upon the building. God knew where it was and directed her right to this place. Of all the buildings and of all the parking lots in the entire city of Chicago, God had led her to this spot.
Maybe this was an omen that Joe would understand and forgive her. Best case scenario, at this time tomorrow, they’d be back in Turtle Creek, kissing under the mistletoe. The worst-case scenario was too horrid to consider so she pushed it from her mind.
Lucy stood right in front of the building on the same side of the street and looked up. Her happy ending was only yards away. She crumpled up the paper with the driving instructions and shoved it into her coat pocket. Lucy pushed through the heavy front doors to a marble foyer awash in people who knew where they were going. Lucy knew where she was going, too. She was going to Joe.
Lucy followed the flow and ended up by the elevators. A large placard encased with glass held the names of the offices and floor numbers. Joe’s office was on the sixth floor. When those around her stepped into the elevator, she walked with them as though this was no big deal. She couldn’t stop staring at the hairstyles and the beautiful coats of cashmere and the furs many women wore. Lucy looked down at her cloth coat. It was the best she owned, and although she was far from poor, she was as far from city style as she could get. Lucy imagined these people probably all lived in lofts and penthouses and townhouses. Not one of them would consider a Cotton Candy house for a residence. This was Joe’s world. Being here in the city she realized this world didn’t include her. She didn’t fit in here. Confidence began to dwindle as she stepped out of the elevator.
A woman dressed in a red suit with a wide collar sat behind a desk in the middle of the reception area. Her blonde hair looked like spun silk and she had so much makeup on that Lucy couldn’t help but wonder how she would look with a fresh scrubbed face.
“May I help you, please?” the receptionist asked through full lips of berry red lipstick. Her nameplate read Phyllis Morris.
“I’m here to see Joe McNamara, Ms. Morris.”
“Your name, please?” she looked at Lucy through heavy eyelashes.
“Lucy.”
“Lucy who?”
“Just tell him Lucy, he knows who I am.”
“Be that as it may,” Phyllis ruffled, “that is not how we operate here. I need a first and last name.”
“Very well.” Lucy tried acting sophisticated. “Then inform him Lucy Collins is here to see him. It’s extremely important I see him right away; I’ve been on the road for hours.”
“Are you a new patient?” She tapped the information into her computer.
“Isn’t that privileged information?” Lucy didn’t want to give away more than she needed to. She liked the idea of catching Joe by surprise.
“Just take a seat.”
“You don’t understand. I do not want to take a seat. I need to see him right away.” Lucy had to see him now. She couldn’t wait another moment.
“Yes, you already told me that. Patience. Please take a seat.” She pointed to a line of chairs. “I must warn you; he’s in a conference so he may be a while. Maybe you want to go to the Starbucks down on the first floor for a latte and come back later.”
Latte? The last thing she wanted was a latte. “No, I’ll wait.” Agitated, she looked around and took a seat by the windows. There were plenty of magazines on the coffee table, so Lucy began to work her way through them. An hour later, the receptionist still hadn’t called her name.
Lucy set the magazines aside, tired of reading about beauty tips. “Excuse me.” Lucy walked toward the desk pulling a strand of hair off her sleeve. “Ms. Morris…does Dr. McNamara even know I am here?”
“I informed his secretary. She will inform him when his meeting has ended.”
“Okay,” she said with a heavy sig
h. “Would you mind pointing me to the nearest restroom?”
Lucy was directed down the hall. Feeling grubby from her long drive, Lucy splashed cold water on her face. She didn’t expect the paper towels to be so soft which added another layer of elegance to this chic office.
Lucy dug through her purse for makeup. She applied a bit of powder and some lip-gloss. She wished she had brought along Monica’s arsenal of cosmetics so she could apply a layer of it and at least look as though she fit in here. If she had to do it over again, her wardrobe choice of the day would have been a dress. Lucy took the brush from her purse and fluffed her curls. Then she looked again in the mirror. She stood out like a sore thumb. A very sore thumb.
Just as she headed back toward the reception area, she heard someone say Joe’s name. She looked around. Phyllis Morris wasn’t watching her area. Instead she was gossiping with another woman and her back was turned. Lucy smiled. She never thought she would be grateful for gossip.