Her thoughts drifted back to Faith. Kelly decided she would ask Joel for his opinion. He knew all about Kelly and Faith’s shared history. Heck, both Joel and Kelly could have been reminded of Faith every night if they watched Channel 9, but long ago they had switched to Channel 2 to avoid seeing her. Kelly didn’t need a nightly dose of her old college roomie, not after the shenanigans Faith had pulled back at the dorms and again years later.
At 5:45, Kelly was home, heating up some lasagna they had made over the weekend, when Joel came in from running errands. He worked from home but got restless by four and usually found a few things to do to get out of the house.
“Hola, Señora,how was your day?” He walked over for their nightly peck on the lips while simultaneously cupping one of her buttocks lightly. She didn’t mind; it was comforting and sexy at the same time.
“Hi, honey. My day… Well, Lexi and Aidan continue to be troublemakers at every opportunity. I busted them with a bingo card they made to make fun of teachers. They have squares for everything from ‘wipes nose’ to ‘wears ugly jeans’ and they mark it throughout the day. I think they got me on ‘looks tired and bored.’ I had to send them to Mahaffey’s office for another talk. Those two are on the road to nowhere fast.”
“Or maybe they’re on the road to being the next great creatives or something,” Joel said with a laugh. “That’s pretty funny. Anything else?”
“There was something,” said Kelly. “I’m actually trying to figure out what to do.”
“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Joel leaned against the counter, cocking his head in a way that she had always found incredibly appealing.
“Soo… you won’t believe who emailed me, asking for a lunch date.”
She could see the wheels turning in his head, but she was impatient to get to the story, so she didn’t wait for him to guess.
“OK, I’ll just tell you. Get ready for this. It was my ‘fair-weather friend’ herself.”
“Wait… you mean… nottheFaith Richards?” His eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding me?”
“Not kidding. She said she’s at a point in her life where she wants to make amends and apologize and even made me some sort of homemade gift. I don’t know, Joel, I haven’t responded yet. I wanted to ask your opinion.”
“Well…” He contemplated. He had never met Faith in person, had only seen her on TV and heard the stories from Kelly. “It would just be at a restaurant, right?”
“Yes, I think so. I mean, I would make sure it is.”
“Do you want to do it?”
“Curiosity sort of gets to me a bit. It’s been so many years since we last spoke. Maybe she’s a whole new person. And I do wonder what in the world she made me. Faith was never crafty. It’s probably part of the reason why she bought so many things. The rest of us would go to ‘make your own tie-dye’ nights and things like that at the dorms and she would stay home and well… you know.”
“Right, but so many years later, I guess it can’t hurt to go to lunch, right? Nothing bad is going to happen.”
“That’s kind of what I was thinking,” she said.
Later that night before bed, Kelly read the email again three times, before taking a deep breath and deciding to respond.
Faith—It’s been a long time. I have a new job teaching Spanish which is keeping me busy but I can probably find time for lunch on a weekend.
She left it at that, short, simple, to the point. No use getting into anything deeper in an email.
Hovering her finger over the send button, she took a long breath. Was she opening another Pandora’s box or was she insteadclosing a chapter? She opted for closing—why not be optimistic? people could change—and she hit send.
But right after she did, a strange feeling came into Kelly’s body, a feeling like she had just made a mistake and would regret it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Laura
January
As the executive producer of the eleven o’clock news on Channel 9, Laura knew a lot about her anchors—prided herself on it, in fact. A producer should always be in touch with the talent (the industry term used for on-air people). It helped create the best kind of show, in Laura’s mind, so she made it a point to remember the names of spouses, siblings, kids, and grandkids for the main Monday–Friday talent. Tom had a wife, two children, and three grandchildren, Veronica was married with no kids, Roger and his wife had a baby, Faith was the only one unmarried. Laura also marked down the anchors’ birthdays and ensured cake and flowers awaited them at their desks.
She knew their quirks and faults too—the fact that a few times each year Veronica threw up with nerves in the women’s room before the show despite the many years she had been on air; the fact that Tom had once had an affair with a young reporter, or that he anchored the show in flip-flops, unseen to the public under the desk, because he felt the cool air on his toes helped to keep him mentally sharp.
Laura kept these things secret. Tom and Veronica were so well known and well connected in the community, they knew everyone and had sources and associations everywhere. If there was a scandal in DPD or DPS (the Detroit Police Department or Detroit Public Schools) or even DPW (the Department of Public Works), either Tom or Veronica or both would know who to tap for info. Heck, they probably could have convinced the mayor to do just about anything, or paid off the governor. They were that locally famous, asked to emcee countless banquets. They had images to keep up. The world didn’t need to know their secrets. Tom’s marriage had survived the affair, so why bring it up? That’s how Laura looked at it.
Then there was the sports guy, Roger. Poor Roger, who always thought he was the least popular of the four, because, frankly, he was. Roger with such an inferiority complex that he was constantly asking Laura if upper management still liked him. Laura had to soothe him with half-truths and white lies to keep him going. Roger didn’t know that Perry contemplated every six months or so whether to replace him.
