59

On Wednesday morning Gina was wide awake when her alarm clock chimed six-thirty. For the past two days she had been rehearsing in her mind the presentation she would make to Geoff. Sometimes in the solitude of her apartment she found herself speaking aloud the facts that she found so persuasive.

More was riding on today’s meeting than the REL News story. It was one thing for Geoff to say he was a fan of her work. Those were just words. An easy compliment to give. For Geoff to put the prestige of the magazine behind the REL News investigation, she needed to convince him not only that the story was genuine, but that she had the necessary skills to pursue it to wherever the trail would lead.

Her thoughts wandered to an experience she’d had in the early days, at her first job. It never failed to ignite a burn inside her. She had accompanied a college friend to visit the friend’s grandmother in a nursing home on Long Island. Suffering from dementia, the old woman drifted between reliving stories of the hardship her family endured during the Depression and complaining in the present about the shoddy care she received. Gina’s friend believed her grandmother’s unhappiness with the staff was the product of constant pain and a confused mind.

Gina wasn’t so sure. With her friend’s permission she had gone back repeatedly to visit the grandmother. In the parking lot she had talked to other families. They also had not taken seriously their relatives’ similar complaints about the staff.

When Gina presented her findings to her editorial board, they were convinced the story had legs and could be an important one for the paper. So important, they decided, that their most senior male reporter was assigned to investigate and write what became an award-winning exposé. Nowhere in the series of articles was Gina’s name or the work she had done ever mentioned.

As she headed for the shower, her father’s advice echoed in her ears. “Live in the present, dear. That’s all you’ve got.”

After a light breakfast Gina paused in front of her closet. Business casual was the dress code at the magazine. Geoff kept a sports jacket on a rack in the corner of his office, but she had never seen it on him. At her request a lawyer would be at the meeting. Would he be dressed, well, like a lawyer? Not for the first time she lamented how much time she spent—wasted—trying to decide which were the right clothes to wear. She chose a navy-blue suit and white blouse.

Dressed and with about twenty minutes to kill before departing, Gina sent an email to Meg Williamson thanking her for being so generous with her time. I’m probably the last person Meg wants to hear from, she mused. Scanning her Inbox, she clicked on one sent from her father.

Hello Gigi.

She smiled at the nickname he would call her when she was little.

Just want to let you know your old man is doing fine down here. Took the boat over to Marco Island yesterday and had a great lobster lunch. Driving tomorrow to Lake Okeechobee to take their tour boat. Hoping to see some manatees.

Turning into a gym rat. Getting over there 4 or 5 times a week.

Friends have told me what a great time they had in Costa Rica. Seriously considering heading down there for a visit.

Will you have a chance to get down here? There’s somebody I’d really like you to meet.

Love,

Daddy

So that explained the more upbeat tone and movies and dinners he’d been going to, Gina thought. Dad has a lady friend. She smiled. He’s happy. At least that’s one less thing I have to worry about. But she couldn’t avoid the lump in her throat, missing her mother.

Gina glanced at her watch. Time to get moving. Today of all days she didn’t want to be late.