One
Jamie Garrison sighed as she clicked through the dozens of unopened emails in her inbox. Her green eyes felt tired behind the mascara she’d touched up at noon, and a strand of blonde hair kept slipping from behind her ear no matter how often she pushed it back. Most were spam, some were press releases from local businesses, and some were just weird. One man, Ernie, sent about six emails daily, all of varying degrees of insanity. Jamie found some semblance of amusement as she skimmed through Ernie’s emails; this time he was rambling on about his parents’ emigration to the States back in the seventies. She always chuckled at the attached images, usually of Ernie standing and holding a small American flag. Of all the viewer emails she got, Ernie’s at least managed to keep her entertained. She wouldn’t call it excitement, exactly, but she never minded skimming whatever strange thing he sent next.
The newsroom bustled around Jamie. Fellow reporters were typing at their computers, producers were talking among themselves as they stacked their shows, and the directors were checking in on all of the cameras and equipment in the studio. On the far end of the open-concept newsroom, she could hear the intermittent beeps and mumbling on the scanners as the assignment editors listened to the radio traffic of the city’s emergency responders. Since college, the sounds of a newsroom had comforted Jamie, but lately they made her antsy. She felt like she was standing on the edge of something bigger, a shift waiting to happen. She didn’t know what it was yet, only that it would hit her career hard when it finally landed.
With another sigh, Jamie clicked over to her browser, watching a video of ayoung boy mimicking a weathercast in his living room. Sure, the video was cute—they always were—but this was the ninth fluffy story in a row. She knew that being the green reporter in a newsroom often came with sacrifices, but she had left Colorado for WCVB to pursue a career in investigative, hard-hitting journalism. Boston was the perfect setting for her to do so, close enough to DC to cover political pieces but far enough away that those pieces wouldn’t define her career. Boston was also a much larger metropolitan area than Pueblo, Colorado. But now, almost a month since her transfer, she hadn’t touched a single story that was anything more than a house fire or car crash.
The little boy on Jamie’s screen was named Sam, and Sam had a passion for weather, or at least that’s what his mom, Jennifer, said. While most of her coworkers were already out in the field working to turn their stories, Jamie was waiting for Sam to get out of school so she could interview him and his mom. On the desk next to her hand, Jamie’s cellphone buzzed.
She grabbed it, nails short and clean the way most reporters kept them, and unlocked it to find a text and a picture from her coworker Harper.
I know you’re jealous…
Harper had sent a photo of the community garden that was the subject of her story for the day. The lush green plants and sunlight catching on the greenhouse glass made Jamie’s chest ache; she was jealous. The community garden’s youth mentorship program had caught Jamie’s attention when it first came through her email. She’d done a little research on the program before pitching it in their daily content meeting. The news director, Aimee Tillet, had seemed to enjoy it, and that had filled Jamie with pride, until Aimee assigned the story to Harper. Harper wasn’t being malicious; her text held more of a joking tone than ill intent. Still, Jamie wished she were out there covering a story with more substance.
UGH! I totally am. I know I’m still new to the station but when will they let me start covering REAL stories????
Wish I knew girl :( Even I can see your talent is being wasted on fluff pieces.
I’m just trying to ride it out… sooner or later, they’ll have to give me something. Right?
Jamie didn’t wait for Harper’s response before setting her phone on the desk. Having to wait until Sam was out of school meant she’d be working on a tighter deadline than usual. She’d just have to make sure everything else was ready so her photographer could drop in the interview clips later. Opening a blank document, Jamie began typing out a rough draft of her script.
* * *
After their interview with Sam, Jamie and Tilly Franklin climbed back into the station car. Tilly was WCVB’s sharpest videographer and Jamie’s usual partner on day turns, and today they were all smiles. They began the trek back to the station, and Jamie glanced over at her partner in crime.
“Okay,” Jamie said, dragging out the last syllable as she turned to look at Tilly in the driver’s seat. “He was pretty cute.”
Tilly slapped the steering wheel with joy. “Damn right he was! Only took an hour for you to see it.” Tilly glanced over at her. “I know you don’t like the fluff stuff, but it’s nice to not have something weighing on your chest every day after you get off.”
Jamie turned the statement over in her mind. They had a point. “I suppose you’re right, but fluff pieces aren’t what I came to Boston to cover.” Her fingers found the hem of her navy pencil skirt and began picking at a loose thread.
Tilly nodded, their face solemn as they drove. “I know, J. You’re too good to be stuck on fluff. They’ll figure that out.”
Jamie looked at Tilly as they spared a glance at her. “Thanks, Til.” The SUV was filled with a silence Jamie couldn’t stand. “So, have you ever thought about having a mini meteorologist of your own?”
A loud laugh exploded from Tilly’s chest as their head fell back against the headrest. “You know, I can’t say I ever have. I don’t think I’m cut out for the parenting stuff. I like picking up and going wherever I please too much.”
A grin flashed across Jamie’s face. “I thought this new person of yours had more roots than you do. Could that change?”
Tilly’s face flushed, their eyes falling to their lap. “It’s too early to sayanything for sure, but yeah… she could change that.”
Jamie smiled softly. “So things are going well then?”
Tilly chuckled as they began to accelerate onto the highway. “A gentleperson doesn’t kiss and tell. What about you? Have you ever thought about kids before?”
Jamie felt her stomach bottom out, and an instant wave of cold dread filled her chest and her shoulders curled in, her posture collapsing for a breath. “Oh.” She paused. “Yeah, I guess I thought it was part of my plan, but that was before everything.”
Tilly sobered quickly, the smile dropping from their face. “Oh shit. Sorry, J, I didn’t think when I asked that.”
Jamie waved her hand nonchalantly in the space between them. “No! It’s fine. Really. I’m the one who overreacted. It’s been almost a year since the divorce was finalized, and I really should be better about processing.”
Tilly shook their head. “I don’t think that’s true. Everyone processes things differently, and you’re entitled to follow your own timeline with healing.”
Jamie gave a small nod. “Thank you.”
Silence filled the car once more, and Jamie leaned forward to push the power button for the radio. She and Tilly had very different tastes in music, with Tilly preferring indie grunge and Jamie gravitating toward queer female pop artists. There was one artist they could both agree on: Kacey Musgraves. Jamie plugged her phone into the aux cable and quickly pulled up Kacey’s latest album,Deeper Well.
