New York Second

I watched as the devil interviewed the man. She was so evil with the way her lips curled as she smiled, yet the snake writhed beneath her skin. I turned away from the television monitor and sat in my cubicle. Everyone seemed to have such a glorious sight when they viewed the life of a television reporter. As they see my face centered on their television stations chatting about the latest news they forget we are regular people just trying to find our place in the world. They forget we have people like Kate Moriarty trying to be an anchor at the same station. She made me sick just to think of her interviewing tactics. She did this for the money and the fame. I did this for the passion and my love for news. “Jay, have your story for tomorrow set up and ready to air by tomorrow afternoon.” I was awoken from my daydream to hear my boss, Reed, bellowing beside my cubicle. I nodded my head and gathered my purse beneath my arm. As I walked to my apartment in New York my mind wandered. I put my hands in my back pockets and felt the thin piece of glossy paper. I brought it out. It was a small picture of my mom. I never left the house without this picture. I was always too busy to stop and think of her, but liked to keep her right beside me just to have the memory of her telling me countless times how proud she was of me. Her short auburn hair fell loosely over her pristine green eyes. I shook my head and stuffed the picture into my purse. “The real world will eat you alive, Princess Jay, just be ready for it.” I would laugh. “I am so tired of college tests, the real world will be my palace.” I always thought this would be life in the real world full of hope, money and rich men gathered at my door. The real world had brought me long nights sitting at my computer typing out scripts for interviews and weekends full of Chinese take-out while I watched TV Land.

When my mom died I did not stop to think. I was only nineteen, how young is that, nineteen. Girls do not lose their mothers at nineteen. I found it ridiculous that God would take the only thing I loved from me. And mothers don’t die of heart attacks. Moms are to live until they are 99. Men die young; women do not. So after Mom died I just went on with college with blinders. I did not stop to wonder how life was going. I did not make gynecologist appointments or have anyone to call at 2 a.m. when my stomach hurt. I became the most independent person I knew. I did not have a picture of my dad in my apartment. All Dad was around for was money. He was around when I was growing up, but we did not have a relationship. When Mom died he barely noticed because he was always on business trips. To think back they were basically separated. I did not love. I suppressed emotion because love emerged emotion. Jay Holmes, Channel Nine reporting live. There I was, this face on a billboard. Everyone wanted my life. I wanted everyone’s life.

There was a knock on my door that Saturday afternoon. I wondered who it might be since I was not expecting anyone at my apartment. I wrapped my bathrobe around me tightly and opened the door. I knew who he was by old pictures and the memories that still seemed to haunt me. The man that left me in spirit. The man that sat at the end of the church pew at my mother’s funeral with a face of stone. There stood my dad walking into my life after five years making me remember life can change in a New York second.

My dad said he had come to visit because he had been thinking of family with the holidays approaching. My question was why he had never thought of holidays in the past, only sending me a huge check around Christmas time thinking it compensated for his absence. An Arden B sweater does not compare to singing carols around the piano on Christmas Eve. He wanted to be a part of my life so he had taken vacation out of his precious work schedule and come to my doorstep. I did not welcome him with open arms, but I was not going to send the only man in my life away. Somewhere inside I knew I yearned for a family and I yearned for love, but my life was so full of work and climbing a ladder of success that I thought of no one but myself. Daddy tried to talk to me when I would get home late at night from the station or early in the morning as I got dressed, but I could not find the words to speak about the things we had left unspoken for so long. He could not make up the years of missing cheerleading competitions and volleyball games. He could not make up the nights my mother sat up reading an old romance novel alone until she fell asleep. He could not make up for the fact my mother was gone. I wanted life to just be this fake normal that I had created. I had made myself believe this was life.

I pulled my Bible from under my bed and opened it to Psalms. I remember when I was younger I would scroll through my Bible thinking God was going to send me a message with some verse. In the middle of the Bible I found an old picture of my dad. The same man in the next room asleep, but he was different. In this picture I was so young and I was laughing as he held me over his shoulders. The blonde hair fell around my body over his arms. I felt a tear coming to my eye as I held the picture in my hands, but I quickly pushed it away. I did not cry. Reporters have no emotion and Jay Holmes did not cry. I was so overwhelmed. I talked to God on a regular basis, but He knew I was still angry with Him. I had never talked to my mom in Heaven. I figured she was too busy playing a game of tennis with Aristotle or singing with Elvis. She did not want to hear from me in this world. I pushed the picture back in the Bible and closed my eyes. Maybe if I shut them tight enough the world when I opened them the world would be perfect.

“Sorry, Jay, we gave the McDougal story to Kate yesterday.” “Why would you give her the interview with the mayor? I know what to ask him and I’ve researched the whole story.” Reed shook his head. “It’s a competitive world. You both want the anchor position so I have to give you both good stories. Hang in there, tiger.” He lightly punched my shoulder sending chills down my body. Kate walked by and sent me a fake smile. “Ah, Jay, he figures with your dad back in town you’re dealing with a lot right now.” How did she know my dad was in town? No one knew about my life. Kate did not need to start doing her spy work on my life like her little projects she used to climb the ladder of success. I was not her next Barbara Walters interview. “I’m not dealing with a lot. Nothing comes between my work and personal life, Kate.” She pushed her long blonde hair behind her ears. “If you need a friend you know I’m here. I know it’s hard not having your mother around. Must be hard to have your dad suddenly walk back into your life. We learn to be so emotionally detached in this field, but I just don’t know how you can do that.” I envisioned punching Kate and watching as she fell to the ground. She did not care about my life or my family. She wanted to destroy me to get that anchor position. I had learned to not walk away angry so I just smiled. “My family isn’t a news story. I’m perfectly fine and detached. Good luck on the McDougal story, Kate.”

I walked into the kitchen to find my dad eating some old Oreos he must have found in the back of the cabinet. He looked so lonely sitting there in his black t-shirt and sweatpants. For a moment I felt sorry for him and wanted to jump in his lap listening to a bedtime story. That moment passed quickly as my anger crept into my veins. “Jay, don’t you understand I don’t want you to end up like I did? All we have is each other and you want to push that out of your life.” “Daddy, why didn’t you show up five years ago and give me this same speech? Might have been more affective back then.” He looked down and for once I saw my father as just a man. He was lonely like the rest of us and I knew that. I did not care at that point because I just wanted him to go away. I did not understand any of my life and I did not need to love anything else but myself. “The first time I saw your mother she was drinking a milkshake downtown. I fell in love with her on the spot. She didn’t even open her mouth and I fell in love with her.” The silence filled the air as I watched him twist the Oreo between his large hands. He never gave us enough time; he did not love us. I stood against the wall just watching him. “Jay, I never said goodbye. She passed and I never said it. I know it’s been so hard for you.” “I can’t do this, Dad, I have to get up early tomorrow.” I did not feel the anger. I did not feel the sadness. I had never talked about my mother and I could not start talking about her with this stranger sitting in my kitchen eating my Oreos.

I waved to Reed as I walked onto the street towards my apartment. I figured I should start groveling at his feet for the anchor position before Kate started a rumor I was going to a mental asylum because I could not handle my life that had turned into a tornado. As I walked by the windows of the stores I listened as the Christmas music rang in my ears. It was so beautiful. I watched as a little girl dressed in a red sweater and green jeans tugged at her mother’s sleeve trying to get her to go into the toy store. The mother laughed and ran her fingers through the girl’s hair. I smiled to myself, but I felt a sense of loneliness. My mind wandered back to childhood Christmas time. I would run down the stairs to frantically open the gifts around the tree. My mother would snap pictures and tell me she saw Santa the night before. Then to the last Christmas together, still so happy. Dad was away, but had conveniently called from his hotel in New York. Mom and I sang carols and exchanged many small gifts. We talked about old Christmas times when she was a child and reminisced about time gone by. We talked about college and how exciting the next four years of life were going to be. I shook my head not wanting to feel, yet knowing there was no other choice. My life was a straight path full of happiness and love. I had no idea the next Christmas I would sit on my couch watching “It’s a Wonderful Life” and eating a fruitcake someone made at the station. Life can change in a New York second.

The air howled as I walked into the station the next day. I smiled at the receptionist and hung my coat upon the rack. Everyone seemed to be full of nerves. “Jay, Reed asked you go to his office as soon as you walked in today,” the receptionist said quietly as she peered above her glasses. He was going to tell me Kate was getting the anchor position. There was no way after having a story fall through about a small mayor election and turning in a story after deadline that I was getting any sort of promotion. Maybe he was going to fire me; it fit in with my week. I walked in his office and stood at the door. Reed motioned for me to sit down. Sometimes I saw Reed as a friendly man, but at that point he seemed to be the President of the United States in power of my whole future. “I know you’ve been through a tough time lately. Not just lately, but I am proud of your business stature that you have accomplished with the hardships of your past.” Sometimes it blows my mind that people actually understand what grief can do to a person, but sometimes I forgot that people actually looked at me as a person that had overcome so much. “Jay, we’ve put a lot of thought into this and-“ “Ya know, Reed, I just can’t take Kate getting anchor, but I understand because I haven’t been too professional lately. I’m really sorry.” “Jay, let me finish. You’ve grown the last few months and you’ve learned a lot. Being a reporter isn’t about just getting the story. It’s about caring and understanding the people you interview. Peter Jennings didn’t cry on 9-11 because his interviews weren’t good. He cried because he loved the people that were hurting. You got the job, Jay.” I stared at him for a moment not saying a word. He had just summed up in a few words what I had been trying to figure out since I graduated from college. I had been doing this for the passion, but not for the understanding. I had something special to love the people I interviewed. He had seen that. Had my dad brought that out in me? All of this time I thought I was walking through fire I was finding my way to the clouds.

“Daddy, you still up?” I walked into my Dad’s room to find him sitting on the bed reading an old Louis Lamour novel. “Yeah, Jay, I’m leaving tomorrow. I need to get back to work. Maybe I need to try to start a new life, find me a lady, get on with my life.” He had given up trying to catch his daughter. “What do you miss most about Mom?” I said as I felt the tears well inside me and I did not even care. He seemed surprised. He took my hand. “She always talked about you. When I wasn’t there, we would talk on the phone and she talked about you for hours. She loved you more than the world. I miss the way she tried to sing along with radio to sound cool like she knew your music. I miss the way she would pick your stuffed animals up off the floor and put them in your arms. Ah, Jay, I see her in you. I see the smile and the genuine laughter. You do remember how to laugh, don’t you?” I let the tears stream down my face. “Sometimes I forget, but maybe I will allow more fun times to surface. Maybe I’ll go out more or drink a margarita with the girls.” He laughed. “Daddy, I’m really sorry about the way I treated you, I-“ He stopped me. “I’m sorry for too many years to hear you say that about a few months. We’ve learned how to live and we’ve learned how to be independent and have a family. This Christmas we’ll make new memories.” I hugged my dad for the first time I could remember since we stood outside the church at my mother’s funeral. Five years had passed, but the things that change in that New York second changed so quickly that love suppressed all resentment.

Saturdays were my day off. Being an anchor seemed to prove itself exciting and gave me more flexibility in my hours. I was cleaning the house almost missing my dad sitting around watching football. I smiled thinking of later that night going out with friends drinking a margarita and laughing as men tried to hit on a pack of women. Maybe I would find my prince on one of these nights. I was ready for the world.
I took the picture of my mother out of my pocket and ran my fingers across it. “Mom, I’m okay. I miss you. I know you’d be proud of me.” That’s how it started. I talked to my mom for about an hour. She took a break from having tea with Princess Diana. My mother never saw me cry until that day. I envisioned her with a smile sitting up in Heaven listening intently to her baby girl. She hated the fact I was growing up. I would always be her little girl; I was just her little girl battling the real world sitting on the floor of her apartment having a conversation with an angel.

I sat my Bible on my mom’s old piano and gently took the picture of my dad out of the middle. I placed it in a nice frame on top of the piano and laughed. Laughed because I had someone in my life to love other than myself. Laughed because I knew life was going to be full of sunshine even on days it might rain. I flipped on the television to watch the newscast we taped that morning and began to smile watching this girl talk about the local news. Jay Holmes to the world. Jay Holmes, the perfect anchorwoman. Watching myself made me smile. I knew who Jay Holmes was. I knew Jay Holmes had a family and loved her job. I knew Jay Holmes lost her mother and through that grief learned to make the best of her world. And I knew Jay Holmes cried and laughed and screamed. Somewhere I had figured it all out. Somewhere in time a New York second changed everything.