Kristin sat back in her desk chair and sighed, halfheartedly clicking off the notes she’d just reviewed from Dalton. She’d sent him the latest draft of her story that morning, with the knowledge that something was missing. The heart and soul of the piece was there, that much she knew, but the communication of ideas was off somehow and she couldn’t put her finger on why. While she wanted his feedback, she wasn’t sure she was prepared for what he’d had to say.
The short entry in bold print at the bottom of her story was short and to the point.
You’re playing it safe. This should be an evocative piece about the paper trail of that school-bus story and its hometown tie-in. Global NewsWire is headquartered in your readers’ backyard. You’re burying your lede. Why?
She stared at the grooves in her desk and closed her eyes. Though Dalton had a valid point about the GNW angle, a story about a local company was not what she’d set out to write. But then again, maybe that was the better story.
God. She shook her head.
The ramifications of writing it could be significant.
This was Lucy’s company. Lucy, whom she’d texted with daily but had yet to actually see since their amazing night together the weekend prior. Lucy, who occupied her thoughts on a loop of wonderful. How was she supposed to be objective about this?
Kristin sat there for the better part of an hour working through her thoughts. There was a war waging within her, between her journalistic integrity and the very real feelings she already had for one of her subjects. She shook her head. No. She couldn’t think that way. She had to remain objective. Even if it meant hurting the one person she so desperately did not want to hurt. She flipped through her notes and set to organizing, seeing a natural progression of the story start to take shape. Her fingers couldn’t type fast enough as she set out on this new course. While she hated to admit Dalton was right, the story practically told itself.
Her phone buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts. An incoming text message from Lucy. She smiled. While they’d tried to make time to see each other after work that week, it simply hadn’t been possible given her impending deadline and Lucy’s stacked schedule, given that second-quarter earnings releases loomed in the distance.
Lunch tomorrow?
While she wanted nothing more than to spend more time with Lucy, unfortunately, she was busy most of the day. She started to type her response when an idea occurred to her, inspiring a change of direction.
I have plans, but I’m thinking you should come. You up for it? She paused and waited for the response to come in.
Um, sure. What are we doing?
Oh, this was going to be good.
*
“What are we protesting exactly?” Lucy asked, as they exited the car. She still felt a little skeptical and was unsure why in a million years she’d agreed to this—other than she’d really wanted to see Kristin again.
“Irresponsible environmental practices for the sake of making a buck.”
Lucy nodded. “Right. Irresponsible environmentalists are going down today.”
“That’s the spirit.” Kristin gestured to Lucy’s attire. “And this casual thing you have going on here is a good look on you. Not a designer label in sight, yet you still rock it.”
“Gasp. I think you just took a shot at my daily wardrobe.”
Kristin handed Lucy a sign and kissed her cheek. “Never. I love your wardrobe. It could pay off my school loans and is thereby impressive.”
Joking aside, Kristin had instructed her to wear comfortable attire, so she’d selected a worn-in pair of denim capris and her heather pink top. Pink was, after all, a feisty color. She was also quite proud of herself for arriving at Kristin’s place on time that morning. One coffee stop later and they’d made it to the plant well in advance of the scheduled meeting time.
As they approached, there was a rather large group of people gathered on the sidewalk in front of the plant labeled Slater Energy. According to Kristin, Slater made a big show of making the public think it was green, when all the while, they were one of the worst polluters in the nation.
“So what will we do exactly?” Lucy asked as they made their way to the group.
“It’s a peaceful protest. We’ll hold our signs and make it known to the company that there are concerned citizens who are aware of their practices and are not going to stand for it. If we get news attention, that’s a bonus.”
“Got it. And what is it we want them to do?”
“Well, Slater is notorious for huge carbon dioxide emissions. If they spend the extra money to implement a carbon capture plan, they can significantly decrease those emissions. They just have to see it as a priority.”
“And we hope to make them do that?”
“Exactly. Are you a little nervous right now?” Kristin asked.
“Not at all. I’m excited to see you in your element.”
“It doesn’t get any more real than this,” Kristin said with a smile. Her blond hair was pulled back loosely into a clip today, and she wore white shorts and a gray shirt that showed off her awesome skin. If nothing else, Lucy would enjoy the view that morning.
However, something kind of unexpected happened. An hour later, Lucy found herself…into it. The protest was made up of several local organizations pulling together for the cause, and these seemed to be smart, like-minded people, who genuinely cared. She held her sign and chanted Carbon capture plan! along with the others and watched as one executive after another filed past into the building, many of them sneering or shaking their heads in disgust at the protesters. She didn’t get it. How could they not care? How was that okay?
When the news crews arrived, the mood shifted and the tension between the protestors and the Slater executives seemed to escalate. Two hours in, a spokesperson for the company addressed them and asked the group to disband, but the group leaders had no such intention, a decision that Lucy had to applaud.
As the morning shifted into afternoon, the sun beat down overhead with a newfound ferocity. With summer in full effect, the community coolers were now empty. Kristin turned to her. “There’s a convenience store across the street. I’ll grab us a couple of waters.”
“Great. I’ll chant double for you.”
Kristin smiled. “You’re doing really well with all of this. More than I would have predicted.”
Lucy raised an eyebrow. “You underestimate me, Ms. James.” But in all honesty, the whole thing had been eye opening for Lucy. While she still stood by the need for charitable donations, it was also clear to her that there was more to be done in the world, and these people all around her were good examples of that. “I’m actually happy to be here.”
“I’m glad.” Kristin stepped into her space, dropping her tone in flirtation. “We should have dinner tonight. Somewhere nice.”
Lucy closed her eyes at the concept. A romantic dinner would be killer after the week she’d had and the physical demands of standing on her feet all day under the hot sun. “I vote yes.”
“Perfect. Back with water in a few. You sure you’re good here? You could always come with me.”
“And who would fight for what is right in your absence? You go. I got this.”
“Lucy?”
“Yes?”
“You’re really cute right now.”
Lucy broke into a smile because the way Kristin was looking at her made her skin tingle in the most wonderful way. “Stop objectifying me so you can start fresh later.” She winked at Kristin and went back to her chant.
*
After scoring a couple of waters and sandwiches from the small deli within the store, Kristin found herself in a rather long line. The guy at the front seemed to have made an Olympic event out of choosing just the right brand of cigarettes. She craned her neck to see what she could do about speeding up this process, but the rule follower in her kept silent and waited her turn. In the meantime, she ruminated over the events of the day. The protest, thus far, had been a successful one, and unless something over-the-top happened in the city, they should score some media time. She imagined they’d break up close to late afternoon, and that would give her and Lucy enough time to head home, freshen up, and change, before coming together again for dinner.
She was picturing something quiet where they could catch up after the week prior, and maybe champagne to celebrate Lucy’s first successful protest. Given, it might be her last, but she had to award the woman big-time credit for showing up and being such a great sport. As dramatic a front as Lucy sometimes put up, she seemed game when faced with any sort of challenge, and Kristin found that admirable.
“That’ll be twelve dollars and sixty cents,” the cashier said and bagged her items. She paid and headed back to the parking lot as a group text message came in from the leader of her environmental group.
Okay, so that was less than ideal. Did everyone make it out of there?
Kristin stood there a moment in an attempt to understand what the message meant, as a string of replies flooded in from various group members.
I’m good. Left after he threw the punch.
Me too.
I’m fine.
Both Beth and I are good.
With fear in her throat, Kristin jumped in her car, at the same time scrolling through her contacts to call Lucy. No answer. She gunned it. As she pulled into the parking lot of the Slater building, the red and blue lights confirmed the worst.
“What happened?” Kristin asked a familiar face from the protest as he and his friend hurried to their own car.
The man turned to her, his expression grim. It was clear he was still hyped up on adrenaline. “Cops showed up and asked us to disperse at the property owner’s request. Some folks got riled up. One guy got in the cop’s face and that’s when they started grabbing people and taking ’em downtown.”
Kristin closed her eyes, instantly guilt ridden for not having been there. “I’m looking for my friend. Dark hair, about this tall, wearing a pink shirt.” She watched as the final police car drove away.
“The girl in the pink shirt was one of the ones arrested,” he said matter-of-factly.
She shook her head. “No, no, no. Please tell me that’s not true.”
He glanced over at his friend for confirmation.
“Yeah, she was,” the friend said. “She was trying to reason with the cops and they took it as a refusal to disperse.”
This was so not good. “Okay, thanks,” Kristin said. Her mind raced as she drove the fifteen minutes to the police precinct. Guilt reigned. She never should have gotten Lucy mixed up in all this and she certainly shouldn’t have left her alone at the protest.
The police station was a bustling mess when she arrived. She patiently waited her turn as her concern grew to panic. The officer who took her question asked her to wait nearby as he tried to learn what he could about the arrested protestors.
An hour passed without word.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. It didn’t matter. A second hour passed. She stared at the haggard faces of the people in the small waiting area. The fluorescent light brought out each furrowed brow, highlighted each tear. Just looking around, she could tell it hadn’t been a good day for any of them. Finally, an officer appeared.
“It’s been decided that in the matter of the Slater protestors no charges will be filed. If you’ll head through that door, you can wait in the hallway for your friends to be released.”
Kristin allowed herself to breathe again. Thank God. Twenty minutes later, when a group of familiar faces emerged from behind the glass door, she braced herself. She’d be perfectly fine with Lucy yelling at her or giving her the silent treatment. But what if Lucy never wanted to see her again? That one she wouldn’t be able to handle. However, the smile Lucy greeted her with was a scenario she wasn’t prepared for.
She held up her hands, palms out as Lucy approached. “I am so sorry.”
Lucy nodded, took Kristin’s hands, and brought them together. “Let’s just get out of here.”
“Of course.” As they walked to the car, day was shifting to night as the pinks and purples swirled in the sky. “Did I mention how sorry I am? Because I can say it again. I am so sorry, Lucy.”
Lucy passed her a look over the top of the car. “As in the sorriest?”
“As in. Also, I feel like I should do something to make it up to you, a cash payment, my firstborn, something.”
“You’re creative. You’ll figure it out.” Lucy got in the car and Kristin followed her there. “It wasn’t that bad actually.”
“No?” Kristin asked.
“No. I met a woman named Marge who wanted to know what kind of moisturizer I use. I’m fairly confident Marge could benefit from a helpful moisturizer tip or two, so I offered some insight. It’s not a bad day when people compliment your skin.”
Kristin couldn’t help but smile. She remembered how Lucy’s skin felt beneath her fingers, and she was every bit deserving of that compliment. Marge knew what she was talking about. “I suppose skin compliments do go a long way.”
“Well, when you’re in the slammer,” Lucy said as they drove, “little things matter.”
Kristin passed her a look of amusement. “So it’s the slammer now?”
“The big house, the tank, or yes, the slammer. It’s what we insiders call it.”
She was being playful now and it was like a giant weight had been lifted off Kristin’s shoulders. Lucy didn’t want to kill her. She was making jokes, even. “I have to say that I’m super surprised you’re taking this so well,” Kristin said. “You have every right to want to kill me.”
Lucy lifted a shoulder. “I don’t see how that benefits me in the long run, the killing. And trust me, I considered it. This is what I keep coming back to. You didn’t arrest me and you weren’t the guy who got the cops upset by mouthing off. You simply believed in a cause. If nothing else, I have a great story to tell now. Lucy Danaher was arrested today. I should take out a press release at work and up my street cred. I might need a tat.”
Kristin laughed. “The socialites would love it.”
“Right? Just think of the corner whispering that would take place at parties. The intimidation factor would be huge. Think they’ll ever insult my canapés again? Not likely.”
Kristin laughed. “Silver lining.”
The conversation lulled. Kristin flipped on the radio and eighties music, her favorite, filled the car.
Lucy turned to her. “Are you rocking out to Cyndi Lauper right now? Is this happening?”
Kristin stopped mid-head-bop. “Yes, because Cyndi gets life.”
“I wonder if she’s ever served time like me.”
“You haven’t served time. You were in a holding cell for three hours.”
“Three hours is an increment of time, Kristin. I’m livin’ the struggle. Now turn up the music so I can sing poorly and celebrate my newfound freedom.”
Kristin did just that, and as the sun set over the water, they drove alongside the beach, singing loudly to “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.” It was summertime, she was with an amazing woman, and life had amazing possibilities.