Taysomscowls.“Ifthisisn’t a good time, we can come back or just…cancel?”
“No, no. It’s for a good cause,” Tracy says.
I sure wish I knew what this cause even was. “And Ron would especially appreciate the Center being in your documentary,” she adds. “It’s important.”
Natalie, the camerawoman, slings one of the heavy bags off her shoulder and Raj speaks to her in low tones.
“Well, I don’t know if today’s the best day…” I trail off, hesitating. I don’t like to tell people no. But this really is the worst possible time. If they’re looking for a cute little sweep of the office, they’re going to be sorely disappointed. We all have red-rimmed eyes, and our hearts have been carved out of our chests around here. Not a good look for the clinic.
“Today’s the last day of filming,” Natalie says. “We want some B footage to round things out, a couple more little interviews around the school. It’ll be fast, I promise.”
“Uh okay, I guess we have a few minutes,” I say. “You can’t film in here with our clients present because they’re minors, but if you just need to get some footage of the clinic for your…” I pause. “What’s this documentary about anyway?”
Taysom smiles and crosses his arms over his chest, causing the edges of his blazer to kick up. The way his white shirt hugs the planes just above his hips is fascinating. “I’m partnering with some programs on campus, so we wanted to do a short feature of some of the good things the university is doing currently.”
“We’re calling it ‘Taysom Gives Back,’” Raj says. “And we got some good footage of him out on the football field and in his old locker room.”
“You got this?” Tracy stares at me, bunching up her mouth. “Just host them for a few minutes, give them whatever they need, okay?” She glances at Taysom and he nods. She smiles as she walks away. “You’re always so willing to help, Charlotte.”
I owe Tracy everything. She’s the one who told me I had potential when I did the internship here. She’s the one who hired me right after graduation. I’m not proud of this, but there’s a possibility I’d agree to smuggling illegal weapons if she asked me to.
And she’s right. Iamalways willing to help. I’ve been asked to save a situation last minute before. In fact, it seems to happen all the time. Someone needs help with paperwork? Charlotte can step in. Someone needs to sanitize the toys because everyone else has some pressing need to rush home to? Charlotte’s got it. There’s a difficult client who won’t respond to the other clinicians? Charlotte’s patient enough to take him or her on. Just ask Charlotte!
I nod rapidly. “Of course.”
I’ve given my whole heart and soul to this clinic, filling in for people when they couldn’t come in, giving up my holiday time. The last time I worked so much overtime, I was bull-dozed with a sinus infection.
Not ideal, of course, but all of it means I can help the kids. I can give them the advantages I didn’t have when I was little.
Well, I can for two more months.
“Great!” Taysom grins. “Sorry to hear about your director, but…I’m excited to work with you, Charlotte.” His eyes brighten.
If I were naive, like I was back when I was thirteen, I’d think he really meant it. I’d read into it and be putty in his hands.
Nope. A needle screeches across a record in my brain. It was what I like to call “Twinkie Road,” when he forgot all about you and your injury at the first sign of individually wrapped fried cakes.
I can’t go there again. Disasters happen when I do.
Still, I can’t be ungrateful that he’s here. This very busy, successful, and famous man is offering his time and money to put our tiny organization in his documentary? I’ll allow it.
Except.
“By work with me, you don’t mean I’ll be on film, do you?” I ask, regarding him carefully.
“Well, yeah. I want to interview you.”
I nibble at my bottom lip. “Me? Why?”
“Because you work here.” He looks around like he’s not sure what we even do here. “And I want to highlight it in the documentary. You know, a little publicity never hurt anything.”
“A little publicity? Like, how many viewers are we talking about?” My heart pounds against my ribcage…again. On the one hand, it would be great if he could spread the word about what we do here because maybe, if we got really lucky, we could get some donations out of it.
I hate that that’s my first thought, but try working for a place like this for five minutes without going there. Our need for money is about the same as our need for air. Omnipresent…part of the very fabric of our souls.
“It’ll be on ESPN,” Raj explains. “For Monday Night Football. They’ll show portions of it in segments throughout a Wolves game in September. We’re not sure which one yet. And then the entire documentary can be viewed on ESPN Plus after that.” He looks proud, as if he’s orchestrated this whole thing.
My head is spinning and I’m fighting the urge to run. I’m in my “sweat” shirt from Hades. My cheap, ugly beige acetate blouse with my boring, brown trousers and sensible shoes which have been thrown up on a couple of times while in the line of duty. I was rushed this morning and didn’t have time to even out my freckles with enough makeup. I mean, I smeared some on after my sunscreen, but with the perspiration and the threatening tears, I’m sure it’s completely gone.
