"You were married to her?" She paused for a moment, considering her words. Joey seemed like a really nice guy that liked to have a good time….certainly a reserved version of fun, but the thought of those two as a pair blew her mind.
"Her, really?" she shook her head as she tried to wrap her brain around the thought.
"Yeah." Joey sat in silence for a moment as memories flashed through his mind. "I'm not really sure what she saw in me either," he admitted with a shy smile.
"No," Beth answered quickly, "I didn't mean that at all. I just mean she's so…I mean….everything I've heard about her. She's a good businesswoman, but she's a…."
"What?" Joey leaned forward slightly. Kelly often gave off the impression of a flake, but she was anything but. Perhaps that's how she had become so successful. No one even saw her coming, and if they did, they certainly didn't take her seriously or view her as a threat.
"She's a bitch, Joey." Beth watched his eyes immediately snap to attention and instantaneously regretted her words.
Joey stood, shocked a little himself at how much her words offended him.
"Why would you say that?" he asked, defensively. "You don't even know her. Kelly is one of the kindest people I know. She was always trying to take care of her aunt and her family. She was always thinking about other people."
Beth stared at him. "Maybe that's how you want to remember her."
"No. That's the way it was." He paused, reminding himself to remain calm. Kelly wasn't his anymore and it wasn't his job to defend her character or her honor. "I just don't think you should make snap judgments of people based on what you've read or heard."
Beth shook her head. "Fine," she snapped, more than a little annoyed by his redirection. "You'll see soon enough. She's establishing an office in the building."
Joey watched as Beth left the room in a huff, leaving the copy of the article on his desk in her hurry. He glanced down at the black and white photo. There was something different about her, but he couldn't quite place it. As he studied the picture, his gaze rested on her eyes. He had stared into her eyes so many times, but the eyes he looked into now seemed empty…almost cold. This wasn't the Kelly he remembered.
"Thank you," Kelly spoke into the phone as she walked over to the fax machine. "Yes, it's coming through now. I really appreciate you getting this information to me so quickly. I'd like to start the week at least knowing who does what at this place."
She hung up the phone and returned to her chair, grabbing a pen from the cup on her desk. Typical jobs for a typical city newspaper, she thought to herself as she perused the typed lines. A solid marketing department, plenty of street reporters, and a staff filled with qualified editors and writers whose degrees and accolades alone were impressive. This should be easy, she smiled.
Turning the page, she swept her eyes over the heads of the departments. These were the people she would be meeting with. Names were important and calling individuals by their names commanded respect. She repeated the names with authority.
"Elizabeth Damsen, Copy Editor, Mike Vause, Advertising, Renee Schultz, Finance and Business, Joseph Buchanan, Photography and Graphics…" Her voice caught in her throat as she said the name. Surely it couldn't be. There was no way.
Quickly she whirled around in her chair, facing the keyboard and began to furiously type at the keys. To google someone's name seemed juvenile, but she knew there would be a mention of it. If he were working for a newspaper, he'd have a byline—a caption…something.
There it was in black and white—his picture in the corner, resolving all doubt. She leaned back in the chair, rubbing her hands over her face. There would be so many questions. She was a shell of the person he knew years ago and she knew it. She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to relive it. She didn't want to justify it. She wanted to crawl in a hole and forget it…forget all of it.
The familiar burn returned to her eyes as she reached down into the third desk drawer. Pulling out the overturned frame, she stared at the faces. She was smiling—a real smile…maybe the last one she'd had. The picture was taken the afternoon before it happened. They had been in the park. It was a beautiful day. Greg was standing behind the swing and she was beside him. Ivy sat on the swing, gripping the rope handles and leaning back against both of them.
She didn't want to forget it all, but most days it simply hurt too much to remember.
Coming in at night, after most of the staff had left for the day, had been part of her plan. She always did this. It helped her get a feel of a new place without hundreds of eyes watching her, judging her, questioning her decisions. Tonight, however, she wasn't making much progress.
The sound of the rain hitting the window served as an all too constant reminder of that night—the night she couldn't forget. She'd seen the therapists, she'd tried the medication, she'd even drowned her sorrows more than few nights, but nothing could erase the memory. Work seemed to be her only reprieve….and sometimes even work couldn't prevent the thoughts from creeping in. It had been a night just like this one. The sounds in her head were as clear and haunting as they were the night they occurred and her stomach began to churn just as it had that evening.
A noise in the bullpen startled her.
"Who's there?" she called out walking towards her doorway.
"Hi, Kel," a familiar voice responded.
"Joey," she breathed more than said. Her lips moved in an effort to say more, but her voice betrayed her. Slowly turning back towards her desk, she lowered herself into her chair.
"I figured you'd be here. You always did like to work when the offices were empty." He smiled at her then, surprised when she didn't return the friendly gesture.
"Right, well. It's quiet. No one bothers you. I like it that way." She knew her response was curt. He wouldn't understand, but she couldn't explain it now. She didn't know if she would ever be able to explain it to him, so it was easier this way—for both of them.
Joey sat silently for a moment, considering her words.
"Look, if uh…if you're through here, maybe we could go get a cup of coffee or a drink or something…you know, catch up…." He stopped speaking as he saw her begin to shake her head.
"No," she replied, her response succinct, her tone matter of fact. "Look, Joey. I'm hoping that both of us working here won't be a problem." She looked at him, ensuring her words were being understood, "but I'm not interested in any sort of relationship."
"I didn't mean anything…I just meant as friends…you know…" He was stunned and hurt. He had loved Kelly with his whole heart, but she had been his friend first and he desperately missed that connection more than anything.
"I don't need friends," she said, standing and walking towards the door. "Not in this business…Now, If you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
It was all he could do to stand and walk the length of the room. He hesitated slightly, turning back to glance back at her as he walked through the door.
"I…" He stopped himself then, alarmed by the serious expression on her face. This was a Kelly he didn't know. One he'd never seen before and one that clearly needed his friendship more than she even realized.
Standing outside the doorway, Joey peered in through the small glass.
"What happened to you?" he whispered out loud.
Kelly pulled files from the door, determined to keep her focus. She couldn't keep doing this. Breakdowns weren't permitted—not in this line of work and certainly not when you've just acquired two new business ventures. She had to be on top of her game.
"Kick ass and take names," she repeated, smiling to herself slightly as she said the words. She could almost hear his voice saying the same words to her. Greg had been her biggest supporter which was part of the reason she was so determined to be successful. She would make him proud or die trying.
He tossed the covers off his legs with a sigh. The bright numbers of the digital clock seemed to taunt him. 4 am—he'd seen every hour since he'd gone to bed about midnight, in a futile attempt to get some sleep.
Sleep eluded him. All he could think of was Kelly, or rather the person he'd seen tonight that seemed to be nothing like Kelly. She seemed so distant, so cold. His mind drifted back to Beth's words…something had changed her. Something had happened and he was determined to find out what it was.
Kelly sat on the window seat, staring outside at the rain that had now slowed to a slow drizzle. She'd given up on the idea of sleep hours ago and now simply counted the hours until she could go back into the office and occupy her mind.
A few hours ago, she'd walked into the hall bathroom and stared into the mirror, opening the medicine cabinet. The small bottle inside provided only a temporary solution. 'Use them if you need them,' the doctor had told her, yet she had barely taken half of the first bottle in the fourteen months that had passed.
Sleep was a reprieve but it opened up a world of dreams. Sometimes the dreams were replays of things she saw that night. Other times they were her mind's way of imagining what she would have seen if she'd opened the door a few seconds sooner. Sometimes they were worse—sometimes they were versions of her life if that night had never happened. Her life as it should have been- A life where she, Greg, and Ivy were all happy, healthy, and alive.
"Skim milk, two sugar substitutes," he said, cheerful yet slightly hesitant as he craned his head into her office. It was nearly two hours earlier than he normally arrived, but he knew she would get there early and he was already up….In fact, he'd never actually been asleep.
"Joey," Kelly said, sighing audibly. She'd known last night wouldn't be the last time she'd see him. He never was one to give up that easily, but she hasn't expected him to come back and try again so quickly.
"Look," she said, gesturing to the stack of papers on her desk, "I really don't have time for this right now. I have so much work to do. I've got to get ready for the introductory staff meeting this morning and I've got way too much paperwork to get ready…"
"You can spare a few minutes," he replied, handing her a cup. "You still drink it the same way, right?"
She sighed. "Right. Joey, Really, I need to get this stuff finished up."
"Cut the crap, Kelly," he said, suddenly more irritated that concerned. "I know you and you've never come to a meeting unprepared in your life. You've had these papers prepared since yesterday and you know it. Now stop trying to put me off and be honest with me. What the hell is going on with you?"
The room was silent for a moment as Kelly tried to sort through the emotions that raged through her. Hurt, Anger, Fear, Sadness—Anger won out.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" she spat, her eyes glistening with tears she willed not to fall. "You have no idea what my life is like? You have no idea who I am now!"
"You're right." Joey scooted closer to the desk's edge. "I don't know anything about you r life. I just know that you're different. You've changed and not for the better. You used to have joy. You used to laugh. Your smile could light up a whole room. What happened to that person?"
"She's gone," she said quietly, standing and walking towards the door. She stopped, still keeping her back turned towards him. "And you should be too, by the time I come back."
Kelly scanned the copy sitting on her desk—Tomorrow's front page and she was on it. It was the paper's way of welcoming her to the helm and introducing her to the readers. The monotonous biographical information was all present and accounted for, all the publishing accolades she'd received in recent years were in order, and the quotes from various co-workers and friends within the industry all served to complete the ringing endorsement.
As he eyes reached the bottom of the page, she stilled.
"Despite suffering heartbreaking personal loss in recent years, Kelly Hawkins has bravely continued her rise in the publishing world, and has been credited with Westchester Publishing's most successful year ever." Kelly could feel her heart begin to race. Reaching over to the phone, she glanced quickly at the cheat sheet she'd left for herself.
"Yes, Ms. Hawkins?" the cheerful voice of the receptionist chirped.
"Please have Elizabeth Damsen report to my office….immediately." Ending the call abruptly, Kelly took a deep breath. Questions were as unwelcome in her life as pity.
"Hi," Joey said, passing Beth as she barreled down the crowded hallway. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"
"I've been summoned," she replied, gesturing towards Kelly's office. "I'm guessing it must have something to do with the copy I left on her desk this morning."
Joey looked puzzled. "You mean the one I read. It was so basic…I mean biographical stuff."
Beth hesitated. "Well, after you and I talked, I kind of felt bad that I'd come down so hard on her, so I tried to flush out the piece a bit. I added a few bits here and there, called a few contacts, got a few quotes. You know, just tried to build her up a bit…maybe make her feel a little more welcome."
"That's nice," Joey replied, softening a bit. It was nice that a least Beth was trying.
"Yeah," she scoffed, "But by the impression Becky got on the phone, she didn't sound exactly thrilled when she called for me, so I'm guessing she didn't get the message." She glanced over towards the closed door.
"Anyway," she paused, glancing back at Joey. "Let me get in there before she calls for me again."
Joey nodded and walked away. Typically he would have reassured Beth—told her that Kelly would appreciate any effort she was making. He would have told her how easygoing Kelly is and how it was almost impossible not to like her, but this time, he wasn't even sure he believed all that himself.
"Mrs. Hawkins?" Beth stepped into the room cautiously.
Kelly looked up from her files.
"Please have a seat Ms. Damsen," she responded, forcing herself to be cordial and reminding herself that this young woman had no idea what a sensitive subject she'd inadvertently stumbled into.
"I need to talk to you about this copy you left for me." Reaching across the desk, she thrust the copy in Beth's hands.
Beth opened her mouth to speak and was embarrassed when no words came out. She swallowed hard and tried again. "Is there a problem?" she managed.
"Yes. A big problem," Kelly responded, curtly. "Ms. Damsen…This is a newspaper, not a self help magazine. There is no need for a public interest piece on my personal life. I can appreciate what you were trying to do, but I'll thank you to remove any and all references to my personal life."
Beth nodded. "I apologize," she softly replied. "I just wanted our readers to understand how impressive it is that you're…"
Kelly stopped her. "I don't need them to understand anything. The read the paper, they get the news, they continue to buy the paper. That's the goal, Ms. Damsen—nothing else."
Beth nodded again.
"Do we understand each other?" Kelly asked , her eyes narrowed at Beth.
"Yes," Beth said softly. "I'll get this taken care of right away and I'll get it back in your hands for final approval."
Kelly nodded. "Thank you," she replied, forcing a small cordial smile. "I know you will."
As the door shut behind her, Kelly turned towards the wall, exhaling a shaky breath. Had that piece been published it would have started all over again. The loss was difficult, almost unbearable, but coming back to work and seeing the faces—the pity—the uncomfortable smiles was almost worse. For weeks she got phone calls, cards, and flowers. People meant well, and she appreciated the gesture, but all she wanted to do was forget and every gesture, every call, every card was another reminder that her life would never, ever be the same.
"How'd it go?" Joey asked, standing and walking to his doorway as he saw Beth quickly powering past.
"I stand by my previous assessment," she snapped, slamming the copy down on her desk and furiously beginning to type at her computer keypad.
"What do you mean?" He could tell by her mannerisms that he meeting hadn't been a pleasant one.
"She's a bitch, Joey. No matter what you say…there are no other words for that woman. Some people just can't be helped." Sighing deeply, she continued her furious revision on the piece.
Pausing for a moment, she looked up at him again. "But," she said, "I can promise you one thing. I won't make the mistake of ever trying to help her again."