Why Blame When You Can Breathe?

DISCLAIMER: 'As Told by Ginger' is a creation of Emily Kapnek and is produced by Anivision, Klasky-Csupo and Nickelodeon/Viacom Networks. This author makes no claim to any properties herein and makes no monetary gain from its production. Please do not flame.

(Chapter 5- A Working Process)

"This is really getting on my fucking nerves, Carl," says a young woman pacing in the living room space of an apartment. She is six feet, two inches tall, slender and brunette with straight hair falling down to her mid-back. She's clothed in a white buttoned-down blouse with a black knee-length skirt, matching tie and modest black heels. Beyond that, and perhaps most important to her audience of one, she's very angry. She is Carl's girlfriend Ramona Sheffield. "Look, don't get me wrong. I admire what the Griplings do overseas. Hell, I donate to their cause every year for that very reason. Where I have to draw the line is that we talked about a situation just like this at the start of the year. You come to me right before our date tonight to give me the news that you're going with your father to Harare, Zimbabwe in ten days. No, I was not aware of the issues with the new regime in that country and perhaps that's ignorance from my end." As Ramona stops pacing and looks Carl dead in the eye from across a coffee table, she informs her boyfriend and fellow reporter, "But the fact is, Carl, you have responsibilities here. You have a life here. Damn it, I don't want to be in a position where you jet set to wherever there is news because of your oh so principled stance in journalism. That's all well and good, but do you really want to freelance for that long before finding a full-time position? Principals never paid the bills so take a little interest in what's in front of you right here and right fucking now and get with the program!"

"Ramona," Carl begins with a tone that ebbs a feeling of wanting to be anywhere but here at this moment, "I understand this sounds like something that came out of nowhere, but like I told you and the rest of my family, nothing is off the table. I believe if I knock this piece out of the park, I won't have to worry about my career prospects much longer. Again, I won't be long. Most of that time will be spent interviewing people on the ground, getting their perspective and then I'll stay with the Griplings for about a week before coming back home. Look, I don't do any of this with the intent of pissing off the people I care for. That's not why I do this and you know it!" Carl, at this point, stands up and holds Ramona by her shoulders. "You also know that I'm not interested in making you feel like you're not important. Think about it; if an opportunity to be a lead anchor or part of a national sports network came up for you, wouldn't you do whatever you could to take it?"

She shakes her head in response to Carl and softly pushes him back from his embrace, admitting, "I don't know what to say about this. I suspect a pattern from you that I can't...I don't know. Carl, be honest with me. What are we doing? We're coming up on two and a half years together. Neither of us are getting younger and...I wonder about you. Where do you see yourself in the next few years and am I as great a part of your life as you claim I am? A girlfriend would like to know these things before their significant other announces, 'Hey, love. I'm going to Zimbabwe with my dad and then to Kenya to visit a friend. I'll be gone for about two weeks or so. Take care.' I understand some of it, Carl. You've got work and I appreciate someone taking on a project like this, but at least have the common fucking courtesy to tell me that you're going overseas before you decide to do it! That would be nice to hear from you before it actually happened."

Carl grits his teeth. He knows that his desire for this project to work clouded a better sense of judgment, especially concerning his long-term girlfriend. He got plane tickets, notices to his landlord, necessary vaccines and a loose itinerary from Blake, but waited to tell Ramona and, with the exception of his father, the rest of his family. Why did he do that? Why wait for a date to do that? Was it that he was so consumed with this assignment that he just forgot? That might be it as he nods to Ramona and says, "You're right. I...I screwed up, Ramona. I'm sorry. I'm more than my work. I guess there were a few things I really wanted to do while in Harare that clouded my decision. I've personally seen Blake maybe...three times since he and Mo had their boys. They are practically my family given Blake made me one of the godfathers of his twins.

"Blake aside, this will be the first major news story I do with Jonas," Carl admits. "When he came back into our lives, I learned that he was doing camera work for area theaters and clubs as side work. I got him some contacts in New York, and he got a job with one of their production companies allowing us to do some small projects but this will be our first big project together. Time was of the essence, as well, because movement on this issue just took place. A rally for the recall election is set to take place in two weeks. If I strike while the iron is hot, we can tell a much better story." Before Ramona can raise her opposition to Carl, he adds, "I know you don't want to hear that. All I can say is that I made an honest mistake. At no point-at no point- did I take this assignment to hurt or neglect my friends and loved ones. I'll do better."

"Saying you're gonna do better and showing me you're gonna do better are two different fucking things!" Ramona yells. "I don't see progress in our relationship and to me, that's a problem! I've been hearing everything under the sun from you, Carl. How many fucking times do I have to hear that you'll do better yet find you right where you started? Nothing's changed! You claim that you're more than a journalist, but that's hard for me to believe. You're practically joined at the hip to your work. When we scheduled a date for tonight, I felt like I hit the lottery! Now that you've thrown this bullshit on my lap about an overseas project, it feels like the numbers on the ticket were for New York and not Connecticut."

"It's not bullshit, it's work and you know this!" Carl counters, now feeling his level of annoyance beginning to rise. Twirling his right index finger above his head, Carl explains to his girlfriend, "I do this for the apartment, to put food on my table and to give you nights like this. Lately, though, I feel you've been getting complacent; almost like you expect it instead of just appreciate it. Beyond that, Ramona, if you want me to change something it wouldn't hurt to let me know by-oh, I don't know-talking to me and explaining what's wrong! I can't fix something on my car if I don't know what the problem is. A relationship isn't so damn different! So what's up? Be clear with me and tell me what's up?"

Nodding her head and taking a few deep breaths, Ramona walks up to Carl and asks slowly, "Where are we going? I'm not talking about this date. I didn't just ask you 'Where are you going?' because I want you to, for once, not think about yourself and your career. We are a couple and couples evolve. Yet we've remained boyfriend and girlfriend all this time. So I'll ask you again, Carl, where are we going and please be specific."

Carl wants to put a lot of thought into this before giving his girlfriend an answer. To him, it sounds as if Ramona will refuse to have it any other way. He does love Ramona, for sure, and isn't ignorant to what the woman is inferring with her remarks. At the same time, a part of him, because he's somewhat peeved that he has to go down this road, wants to answer Ramona's question with a smart-aleck question of his own: 'Where do you want our relationship to go?' Then again, Carl knows how angry Ramona can get when she's poked in the wrong place. The thought of what she would like to know concerning Carl's answer to her pointed question is more than a little frightening, but he also knows that the woman would prefer that he be honest.

"Ramona," Carl begins. "As cliched as it might sound to you, this really isn't about you; it's about me. As far as I'm concerned I see the both of us in love, together and happy. I...I'm sorry, but if you prefer me to be honest then I have to tell you that the one place I don't see us going to is the Fairfield County clerk's office. I just don't see myself getting married. Frankly, I don't see the point. I never did."

"Carl!"

"What do you want?" he interjects before Ramona can air her grievances. "If I lied to you, I'd be a horrendous, self-centered son of a bitch. At least give me some credit! I'm telling you the truth!"

"No!" Ramona counters before grabbing him by his shirt collar. While pointing to her boyfriend, Ramona makes it clear to Carl that, "You get no credit for being an asshole. The truth, Carl Michael Foutley, is that you are, in fact, a fucking self-centered son of a bitch and you are horrendous! Why not tell me this a few months ago instead of leading me on this wild goose chase for a diamond ring?"

"Well, why not just ask me about getting married if you really meant it?" Carl counters. He then takes two steps away from the shirt grab to inform his girlfriend, "I mean, you're the empowered one! You talk so much about how your father and mother raised you independently where you were taught never to depend on a man for anything! You think I didn't dig that shit in some respects? You are you're own person. You don't need me to define you and vice versa. You're strong! Super strong. Do you really think that isn't a reason why I am attracted to you? You take charge, you lead the way and keep me on my toes. You don't mind being number one and I admire you for that! You defy convention like no one I've ever met in my life so perhaps it shouldn't surprise you that I thought you didn't like traditional bull crap like me proposing in the most romantic of settings. I had an idea of what I thought you wanted, but clearly I was wrong. We obviously haven't been talking like we should have. I had a feeling you were going to just ask me about it one random day, but you put me on the spot so here we are. We both should have been more open. Not just bragging about the money we make or our respective career prospects, but the matters that affect both of us. And on that note, for all the talk about you wanting commitment from me, you still won't accept my offer to move in with me! Why? Is it that you're afraid of losing some of that independence you crave so much?"

Ramona shrieks before she yells, "Screw you, Carl!" and then walks towards the front door.

"Why?" Carl asks as he attempts to prevent her from leaving. "Why 'screw me', Ramona?"

"You just don't get it! It was never about independence, it's about commitment and I mean your commitment! It's about me carrying more of a load in this romance than what I can bear! As you chase world affair stories for your professional future, I don't see that same passion to secure your personal future because apparently you don't see the fucking point! It's like I have to be the standard bearer for our relationship. I'd at least like to see you take some initiative, but you're so wrapped up in your projects and assignments that you can't even string together ten words in a sentence concerning you and I to your friends and family."

"That's not true and you know it! Come on, that's just anger!"

"It's not about anger, and why do you feel the need to lie-you know what? Fuck this date, Carl. I'm going home."

Shaking his head, Carl walks up to Ramona and reaches for her near shoulder. "Come on, Ramona. Let's talk about this..."

Feeling the touch of her boyfriend's hand on her shoulder, she rejects it by turning around. She says, "Get the fuck off of me!" while shoving Carl hard enough that he has to brace himself against the wall to prevent falling to the carpeted floor.

He rights himself after about three seconds before taking a step forward and exclaiming to his girlfriend, "Not cool, Ramona."

"Doesn't feel good, huh mother fucker? I tell you what. If you feel so confident that this trip to Zimbabwe and then Kenya will open many doors for you, then by all means go with your father, enjoy, have fun, learn, get your interviews and be merry as a fucking lark. But when you come back home, because I know you'll have a lot of time to ponder many matters in your life, give it to me straight about where you see us so that I can make a more informed decision about this relationship or it's over! If you come back with a better perspective, I won't hold the question about marriage over your head and will personally let you decide when it's time to pop the question. But if you find my demands to be too much for you, then we'll just go our separate ways, Carl! It's not that complicated, yet you're acting like I gave you a comprehensive exam on linear fucking algebra!"

"But did you have to shove me to let me know you didn't want to be touched, Ramona? Look, I'm fine. Let me explain something to you. I wanted us to have this night because of the assignment! I'm gonna be back out there and you shouldn't have to worry about me. Things are bound to get better soon! Can't we talk some more about this over dinner?"

"I've lost my appetite," she responds laconically. "If you want anything out of this night, then just take what I said to heart. But, I'm pretty fucking pissed off at you, Carl. You do a lot of dumb shit intentionally and you seem unapologetic for most of it."

"Ramona, please. Intentionally? I don't..."

Raising her hand up in protest, she interrupts whatever Carl was about to say to inform the young man, "I think you have cold feet. I understand if that is happening and you have some concerns about what married life will mean. That's fine. At some point, though, you put on your big boy pants and make a decision. Not just for you, but for us. I can't make it for you so you either get it together or you won't have me as 'the lead' for much longer, okay? Okay. Goodnight, Carl."

With those words, Ramona Sheffield left Carl's apartment without much fanfare and not slamming the door behind her to leave an obvious parting shot.

Carl is left to comprehend all that has happened inside his apartment on his own. He had no intention whatsoever of hurting Ramona, but the news coming out in the manner that it did obviously left a dent in those plans and more than a few ruffled feathers. He'll give her time to cool off, but for now he's all dressed up with nowhere to go. Taking a deep breath, he takes a seat on his reclining chair and ponders how he got to this 's in trouble, but he'll find a way to get out of it. A night to think things over and figuring out how much the good outweighs the bad will do it. He'll concede that being more considerate to his loved ones comes with that and he knows that he can't have anymore screw ups, but the same can be said for his profession.

He's on edge, but is doing his best to not let those around him know that he could crack under enough pressure to form carbon from diamonds. Carl's main aspiration is that all his efforts will shine just as brightly. Only time can tell.

"Are you okay, Robbie?"

"Yeah, it's just quiet. That's all."

Nodding, the questioning party says "Okay then."

Indeed, the room is quiet and perhaps that's for the best in this case. There are only four other people in the waiting room of this doctor's office, but as he takes another look at the clock, Hoodsey is glad that he and wife Macie don't have to wait much longer for their appointment.

He was not kidding when he told Brandon a few weeks ago that he and Macie were attempting to start a family. What was also not up for conjecture was the fact that through their many attempts, including Macie finding out the dates when she is most likely to ovulate, there has been no success. No plus signs or appropriate lines on pregnancy tests can be found leading to them informing all that would hear of a forthcoming blessed event. Fortune, indeed, has made the decision to not shine upon the Bishops in the form of a pregnancy and this married couple wants to know what, if anything, they're doing wrong.

Breaking the quiet in the waiting room is the opening of a door. From there, a medical assistant calls the names of "Robert and Macie Bishop," who stand up from their seats in the waiting room. They are now being directed to the office of the this fertility treatment center to get results of some recently-administered medical tests.

The settings are opulent with the best leather seats for the patients of note as they sit and wait a little bit longer for word from the doctor. Conversation between this pair is limited by choice. Both parties are hopeful that nothing will prevent them from having a family, but given the health-conscious nature of Macie, they are here. Hoodsey gazes out of the window of the office for a few minutes before he hears the door open and a gentleman in a white coat enter the premises.

"Robert and Macie Bishop?" he asks to confirm the patient and significant other in the room. The pair get up and shake hands with Tyler Holloway, who specializes in all major fields concerning fertility for both of the sexes.

After he requests that the two have a seat, he begins his explanation with the extensive file for the Bishops. "I want to first off thank both of you for your patience these last couple of months. As you're probably aware, Doctor Macie, getting test results from labs can often feel like waiting for Godot."

Hoodsey chuckles and the doctor is internally thankful that he might have found something to break the clear ice in the room. Hoodsey admits, "I love that book. At the very least I hope we're waiting for good news."

Now Doctor Holloway has feelings of a needle; about to burst the balloon of anticipation he's certain both Robert and Macie are feeling. Taking a couple deep breaths, he admits, "You hear this all the time, but it's true. I have for you, based on the results, some good news and some bad news."

Looking each other in the eyes, Hoodsey and Macie nod to each other and make the decision using their thumbs. Looking down, they see that each party has put their respective thumb up. Nodding again, they turn to the doctor and Macie says, "Give us the good news first."

"Okay. As you wish," Dr. Holloway responds. "The good news is after reviewing your tests, Macie, it's clear to myself and my peers, you have nothing preventing you from having a healthy pregnancy. Your hormone levels are normal, you're in great health and your cycle is consistent with what we talked about three months prior. Nothing suggests any issues with pregnancy, so you have the green light there."

That would be enough for husband and wife to wrap each other in an embrace. If he were honest, that was Hoodsey's primary concern; the health of Macie. In fact, the two were about to hug but Macie stops Hoodsey to ask the doctor, "But what about the bad news?"

"The bad news," Dr. Holloway says, "is that while Macie's fertility is not up for debate, Robert's results showed a case of severe oligospermia. In layman's terms, that means that Robert has a very low sperm count. Here, let me show you." Dr. Tyler then pulls out a line graph and points to a number figure on the chart. "Semen is the passenger fluid which carry the sperm and allow them to swim through the female reproductive organs to get to the egg, penetrate and ultimately conceive a child, as you hopefully learned in sex ed. In any case, the average male has more than 20 million sperm cells per milliliter of semen." At this point, Dr. Holloway then points down to a red line on the chart and informs the couple, "Upon measuring your three samples, the lab concluded that your average sperm count was below four million. Robert, that's less than 20 percent what would be considered normal for a male your age."

Robert cringes at the magnitude of the doctor's words. He came to this fertility center to find out these matters and determine a course of action, but he absolutely did not expect to get this news. In otherwise good health, this information arrives his way with all the delicacy of a sledgehammer. His head comes down for a moment while a comforting hand on his right shoulder gives him a few pats with a following rub while informing him, "It'll be all right, Robbie. I mean I'm sure that's something that can be reversed, right?"

"Well before I get into that too deeply, Macie, I feel I should explain some things to both of you and offer some medical advice," Tyler clarifies, though he's not certain how much assurance he can provide this couple. "First of all, though it does work against you two, a low sperm count doesn't necessarily mean you and Macie can't conceive through sexual intercourse. Macie is right that most issues related to low sperm levels can be reversed unless you aren't producing any sperm whatsoever and we know that that's not the case.

"Robert, right now I'm going to ask you some questions to see if we can't rule out a few possibilities and narrow down why this is happening. All I ask is that you answer honestly and we'll see what we can do to help you and Macie, okay?"

Nodding, Hoodsey knows of no other recourse. If the doctor believes that it isn't a major matter, then he's more than willing to assist him. "Okay, ask away Doc."

"Very well. Number one: Do you frequently take baths or use hot tubs at a rate of more than twice a week?"

"No."

"Question two: Do you smoke cigarettes, cigars or use smokeless tobacco?" Hoodsey answers 'no'. This continues to questions concerning alcohol, marijuana, cocaine, intravenous drugs, steroids and the use of antibiotics to which Hoodsey answers 'no' to all save for the occasional glass of wine for dinner.

"Do you have any of the following complaints? Trouble with sleeping, stress relevant with travel or other emotional issues, contraction of any viruses in the last six months including influenza, infections including sexually transmitted diseases in the last six months or running a fever of over 101 degrees for longer than a two day period in the last six months?"

The questions keep coming and yet Hoodsey cannot give the doctor any answers in the affirmative. The doctor is growing in frustration due to not being able to zero in on a self-inflicted cause, but Hoodsey continues to answer the questions given to him. For instance, he does not experience pain in the testes, discomfort during urination or problems with ejaculation.

Even more questions follow and for the next five minutes, Hoodsey responds in the negative to each question that might provide a clue to this medical mystery. While taking notes, Dr. Holloway desires to find some smoking gun to avoid at all costs the possibility that there may be something major.

He's not finding it and has to break potentially worse news to the Bishops. "Based on this information, I see no reason for either of you two to be alarmed...for now. First of all, like I said, it's possible that in the next month that you could conceive and my work will turn towards a healthy pregnancy. Before that, I'm going to give you both homework, ask you to come back in a month and we'll find out if either I missed something or you missed something that might be the root cause to Robert's infertility issues. I gave you those questions to see if there is anything in your life that you might be doing that won't adversely affect your quality of life, but could be causing these problems.

"Internally, there's a real possibility that the veins in your scrotum are enlarged. About fifteen percent of men with your condition have those enlarged veins. Think of it like varicose veins in that area. You only have so much room in there for those veins to get blood flowing through your testicles to cool them. If they're obstructed in any way, that will curb the sperm count, but it's an easy outpatient surgical fix to make. I hope that your situation doesn't go beyond either that or, like I said, a lifestyle choice like...keeping a laptop on your lap for too long. That can adversely affect sperm counts, as well."

His eyebrows raising upon hearing that scenario, Hoodsey grits his teeth for a few seconds. Hearing the doctor begin to say something else, he interrupts to raise his hand and admit, "Uh, Doctor Holloway. I'm sorry but...I must confess. I do keep a laptop on my lap for several hours...and a tablet computer while preparing for work. That probably doesn't help matters."

He isn't sure and won't be unless he asks, but Hoodsey swears that he heard the doctor breathe a sigh of relief upon hearing this news. One more second of silence and he would've asked what that meant as far as reversing his condition, but the doctor says, "No, it doesn't. I should've included that question with hot tubs and baths because what happens with those is the same thing that's likely happening with you. The laptop generates heat and the warmer temperatures around it make your penis, testes and other blood vessels in that area too warm for most sperm to even live. That's why all of those organs are outside of your body.

"In any case, buying a laptop desk or just putting your laptop on a work desk at all times should help. I can't guarantee anything until we run more tests after you stop doing what you've done, but in the interim I'm going to refer you to a urologist." The doctor makes notes and writes down information on a pad while saying, "He's only a few minutes from where you live and his name is Doctor Barry Goldwyn. This is to check in case this is either the issue with enlarged veins or a more serious condition. We can't guarantee anything until we have a further diagnosis. Now I want to believe we've zeroed in on the cause of your condition, but I'm still going to ask both of you to do that homework I asked. If anything else comes up after 30 days or you think something may be contributing to this condition beyond what we now know with the laptop, please don't hesitate to call my office. You understand?"

"Yes," Hoodsey and Macie say in unison as Hoodsey takes the written referral. The final words between doctor and patients deal with the matter of rescheduling an appointment within the next six weeks along with handshakes and goodbyes. As they reschedule at the front desk and walk through the exit of the doctor's office, Macie can't help but think about consoling her husband with regard to this news. Her clean bill of health, while welcome, does not take away from the realities that this couple face moving forward in their process. This is neither a Robert problem nor a Macie problem as much as it's a 'we' problem.

Yet it's a problem that the pair is ready to face as a 'Bishop family problem'. Put in its proper perspective, if they arrived in this office and got nothing but good reports, then they would make every effort to have a baby and would be in doctor's offices like this on multiple occasions for about a year. After the birth of their child, even more doctor's appointments and other visits of the sort will have to be made making this less of a blip in the road and hopefully more of a trend towards their ultimate goal of starting a family. Sure they have a roadblock in their way, but what would the journey be without its pitfalls to dodge, mountains to climb and valleys to traverse?

So there is work to do now and the road map to this objective will have a few more steps to it than placing tab "A" into slot "B". In their minds, that's fine.

Hoodsey and Macie already knew that, so they're far better than most who find the first step nowhere near as difficult or rewarding.

There's only one more turn to make before the van arrives in the airport terminal for departures. Morowa Gripling is driving while her husband nonchalantly drums his fingers on the dashboard of their car in anticipation for this trip. Along with his wife, Blake's sons are in booster seats in the back this afternoon to send their father off as he spends the next four days or so with Carl and Jonas Foutley in Zimbabwe.

The family lives about twenty minutes from the airport and have been in contact with the Foutley men since they made a stop on their layover flight in London. The Griplings know from past vacations that a flight like that lasts nine hours so they are now on the road to give Blake enough time to check baggage and to catch up with his friend before they get to business.

"Morowa, we're here," Blake remarks while pointing to the sign for Kenyan Airways. Morowa finds a spot to park their van, turns in, and puts on the hazard signals. The couple exits the van and while Blake gets his roll-out luggage and carry-on bag from the trunk, Morowa unstraps Beckett and Bennett from their seats.

Once he is certain that he's got everything, including the sunglasses on top of his head, Blake proceeds with his temporary 'farewell'. "Okay, family. I should be back by Monday if all goes well. Then Carl and Jonas will be with us for about a week after they get what they need from Harare. Beckett and Bennett, you be sure to help Mama with anything she needs around the house or errands outside of the house, you understand?"

The twins nod their heads and say, in unison, "Yes, daddy."

Kneeling down, Blake grabs his boys in a dual embrace and gives each of them a kiss. "Daddy loves you two and I'll miss you very much while I'm gone. Behave, and I promise to get you both something special."

"Really?" Bennett asks. "Great!"

"Now, remember, you have to behave...both of you. I will find out if you don't," he says, clarifying what he hopes his sons would already know. After this warning, he stands upright, turns to Morowa and says, "I have something special in mind for you, too. I never want you to feel left out. Uh...just hold down the forts, Mo; at home and at the school. Obviously, call me if there's an emergency. If anyone calls with questions for me that you can't answer, just call."

"You know I'll have everything under control, Blake. I always do."

Blake gives his wife a bit of a chuckle. He really can't argue with what she said, so he simply responds, "Yeah. You're right, love." After saying that, Morowa caresses her husbands cheek and then leans in to give Blake a full kiss on the lips.

Beckett, watching his mom and dad kissing, displays his disgust to his brother. He rolls his eyes, sticks out his tongue, points to it and then makes a retching sound. "Gross!" he exclaims. "Mama? Daddy, people are watching!"

Casting an eye over to Beckett, who is the ultimate 'boy' in the family and self-proclaimed as uninterested in 'all that mushy stuff', Blake steps away from his wife to ruffle the young boy's hair and tell him, "Then let them watch. You'll understand one day. Just remember we all got here the same way."

Squaring his eyes for a moment Bennett, ever the curious one, asks, "What does that mean, Daddy?"

Before Blake can even say a word, Morowa interjects herself to say, "We'll tell you boys when you get older. Trust me."

"You always say that, Mama!"

"And I will keep saying that as long as I'm your Mama which is, if I'm not mistaken, for the rest of your life. Get used to it, boys."

That remark from his wife generates another chuckle from Blake as he grabs his luggage and gives each member of his family a kiss, saying, "Well, it's that time. I'll see you next week. I love you all very much. Do take care." Morowa, Beckett and Bennett all say goodbye to Blake as he walks up to the terminal for baggage claim. As he goes through the automatic sliding door, Morowa straps the boys into the van and heads back home.

After checking one suitcase for a flight about six hours from now, Blake's goal is to find his traveling partners for the long weekend. He gives Carl a quick text to say, 'I'm at the airport. Just left baggage check. Where are you and your father?'

Finding a bench so he can rest, Blake waits for the response. He sits for only two or three minutes before getting a response from Carl, which reads, 'We're on our way to check our bags. If you're still there, don't go far. We shouldn't be long.'

Blake then quickly responds to this text with, 'Okay. I'm at a bench near the bag check. Have you and your father had anything to eat?'

One minute later, Blake gets a response to this question, reading, 'No. Are you treating?' with a smiley wink emoji at the end of the text.

The facial muscles of Blake Gripling are getting quite the workout as this latest text results in a hearty laugh. 'Carl, always the opportunist,' he ponders before shooting him a text, which says, 'We'll talk,' followed by a smiling emoji of his own. While still on the bench, he reads through some e-mails. At this point, Blake feels a tap on his shoulder and sees the face of his old friend in the flesh for the first time in about two years.

There is no handshake; only Blake getting up from his seat to wrap Carl in a big hug. Jonas watches this from about a two-step distance while holding onto their luggage cart and is happy to see the camaraderie between the two young men. Despite distance, time and family, their bond remains strong.

Blake shares pleasantries with Carl and releases the embrace to shake hands with Jonas and ask, "How are you, Mr. Foutley?"

"Doing well, Blake."

"Will this be your first time in any part of Africa?"

"My very first."

"You'll love it," Blake assures. "Carl can attest to that as he vacationed with me during the cricket matches in South Africa, remember?"

"Yeah, that was a lot of fun."

"Indeed. Mr. Foutley, don't believe what negative pundits say. I've lived here for more than five years and been to Zimbabwe on many occasions. I love it and besides back home, I couldn't think of a better place to raise my children, but..."

"Happy wife, happy life," Carl says, certain that he finished what Blake was going to say. "Not to say Mo hates the states, but when it gets cold, especially visiting Blake's folks back home, you yearn for year-round average temperatures in the sixties."

Blake will never tell Carl that he, too, likes not having to worry about blizzard conditions while in Nairobi. Nevertheless, not content with letting his friend just have the last word, Blake asks him, "While that may be true just what do you, with a girlfriend, know about having a wife that I don't?"

Shrugging his shoulders, as he has no real response to that question, Carl nevertheless answers, "Nothing really. Always heard it, though."

"You heard right, but enough about that, Carl. We've got about a...six hour layover before the flight which will be about three hours. I don't know if you were teasing or not about me treating for something to eat, but we can haul a taxi and find a restaurant soon. Nairobi has just about any and every taste. Just tell me what you're in the mood for and we can get it. And...yeah. I'll treat since you're now guests in my hometown."

Nodding, Carl taps Jonas and then leans in to whisper in his ear. A few seconds later, Blake watches Jonas whisper into Carl's ear. Another ten seconds or so and they break with Jonas asking, "So you say if we name our choice of cuisine, then Nairobi has it?"

"In a general sense," Blake answers, "virtually anything you can get from home, you can get in Nairobi. Name it."

Carl and Jonas turn to each other and shake hands, turn back towards Blake's direction and ask, in unison, "What about Chinese?"

"Yeah. We've got several Chinese restaurants," Blake confirms at which point, Carl gives off an exasperated sigh. Not certain what this means, Blake turns to Jonas who has his right hand out as if he's about to accept something. Carl then places a twenty dollar bill in his hand.

"I know it's no good here," Carl concedes, "but use it wisely where you can. Man, I can't freaking believe you have Chinese food here, as well."

"It's called Mister Wok and they're more high end. We go there about every month. It's early enough that I'm sure we can still get a table. You should probably check your bags and equipment. I see you have quite a bit and that might take a while."

"Yeah," Jonas says. "Most of this is camera and lighting equipment for the interviews and footage in Zimbabwe. Maybe two or three of these bags are clothing and other essentials for both legs of the trip."

"Blake's right, though, Jonas," Carl adds. "If we want fuel for the trip, there's no use carrying all of this if we don't have to. Let's go and then we can haul this cab. Now you say it's not far, right?"

Shaking his head, Blake says, "Not at all. Mr. Foutley, do you need a hand with those bags?"

"Oh, no thank you," Jonas answers. "This baggage cart is great. I think I could roll one thousand pounds without a struggle. Come on, Carl. Let's check in this luggage." Without a word, Carl follows his father alongside Blake as the latter directs them to the Kenya Airways desk. Once the Foutley's finish business here, the trio will go to arrivals and hail a cab so they may all get a little taste of home.

From there, conversation will ultimately shift to the task at hand. It is a Wednesday and this coming Saturday a scheduled rally will happen in Harare, Zimbabwe in support of a national recall election.

Carl already has an well thought out plan of how to cover this. The recall election will get the attention of major international news bureaus, and rightfully so. He will instead cover the story of the plight of teachers in the nation juxtaposed against an overall improvement of circumstances for Zimbabweans. He'll also cover the role that education will have in the platform of a new regime and what it means for the locals after the dust settles in this political process. It's all interesting, unique and fascinating for Carl, but at the same time, it's no different than putting together brief editorials for a news station. Do the research, get the opinion of officials and those who will be impacted and present it to the public. Make no presumptions, assumptions or news and stick to the facts. He had no problem handling these things while working in America. The only difference between the United States and Zimbabwe with regards to journalism is distance, which doesn't make for much of a difference when put in perspective.

The vast land lies ahead for the reporter and he's so glad he's made this decision. He still has work to do to repair his relationship with Ramona, but when he gets to that bridge, he'll pay the toll and cross. This time, for now, is about his passion and it's great. Not just for his career but the cause. It fits with his philosophy and he's delighted to get insight on this developing story. Whatever happens, let it inform and educate those who may read or see it.

There is just no better way to learn about our world, after all.

A/N: That's the first time I've used the word 'emoji' in one of my works and I did it twice. I feel all hip and modern!

Anyhow...you've just read the second chapter with the boys, and now comes the fun part. Indeed, the sixth chapter will focus on Ginger and Courtney as the old friends finally reunite! Remember, this isn't a social visit. Ginger will actually be the one directing Courtney in the marketing, promotion and advertising of her novel. That technically makes Ginger Courtney's boss for nearly half a year.

Stay tuned for what happens and please don't forget to drop a review and let me know your thoughts! Until then, this is Rave!