Flights coming into Boston had been delayed due to weather, and Chelsea’s plane was late to take off. They should be in the air by now, but they hadn’t even shut the doors.
Chelsea had spent the past twenty minutes watching more and more passengers board, trying to dream up life stories for each and every one of them.
There was a Middle Eastern man traveling with his aged father. A man in a Hawaiian shirt, followed by a surly looking teen. Moms with babies, parents traveling with toddlers. A woman boarded whom Chelsea recognized as a well-known Bible study teacher. Chelsea’s mom had been reading Meredith Crowley’s books and watching her videos for over a decade. It had been a few years since Chelsea had regularly attended church with her parents, but every so often her mom would send her a link to one of Meredith Crowley’s podcast episodes. Chelsea was surprised when Meredith continued past the first-class seats and headed toward economy.
An eccentric old woman with shockingly white hair boarded. She was even shorter than Chelsea, but there was something fiery in the old woman’s face. Chelsea tried to think up an appropriate backstory. A doctor? Teacher? Maybe a flight nurse. There was something confident, something piercing in the woman’s expression. It reminded Chelsea of an interview she’d done a few months ago with an old woman who had the distinction of being the very first female detective on Boston’s police force. Whoever this passenger on the airplane was, Chelsea could sense she had the spirit of an adventurer. A pioneer.
Chelsea liked to think of herself in the same way. At least at one point she had. Female journalists weren’t oddities anymore, but there were still obvious roadblocks she faced on her way to success. Any time one of the men she was sent to interview called her “Sweetie,” any time a colleague or a lead tried to flirt with her, Chelsea was reminded of the inherent setbacks of her position. Unfortunately the environment was hostile enough that women were suspicious and jealous of each other instead of joining forces and standing up for themselves. Chelsea knew for a fact that some of her colleagues talked behind her back, complaining and gossiping that the only reason she’d progressed as far as she had in her career was because she was a pretty face. As hard as Chelsea tried to keep her reputation squeaky clean and her work relationships free from drama, there were still people who thought she was advancing in her career by sleeping with her bosses.
As if.
Chelsea’s coach told her that the only way to prove these gossips wrong was to become an even better journalist. The problem with Clark’s advice was that with each new step Chelsea took up the ladder of acclaim, there were over a dozen of her colleagues who hated Chelsea for her advancement and made up horrible lies about her success.
Chelsea was storing up all these experiences. One day she planned to write a memoir exposing the rampant sexism and harassment female journalists still faced in the twenty-first century. Until then, she had to do exactly what Clark told her to do in those coaching calls she was paying so much for. Focus on advancing her career, silencing the inner voice that told her she wasn’t making any difference.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m Tracy, one of your flight attendants today.” The voice pulled Chelsea out of her pity party. While the flight attendant recited her safety speech, Chelsea sat back in her seat and tried to relax. She’d been working insanely long hours, preparing for her Detroit trip, finishing up work on a story about police brutality in a city as purportedly progressive and forward-thinking as Boston. If anything, Chelsea deserved a few hours of uninterrupted rest. She’d already made herself a promise that on the way to Detroit she wouldn’t pull out any writing. Her cell was prepped with dozens of podcast episodes she’d been meaning to catch up on. Nothing overtly work related. Mostly true crime shows she liked to follow. And if she felt guilty being that frivolous with her time, she had several workbook assignments due to Clark before their coaching call next week.
“The captain has closed the doors,” Tracy announced to the cabin, “and we’ll be taking off shortly. Welcome aboard Flight 219, offering you nonstop service to Detroit.”