24
Months went by, and her and Geary’s relationship never really seemed to recover after the blowup on the morning following Dilly giving birth.
Geary traveled to more tournaments and stayed longer. His wins racked up critical points and his tournament standing climbed. Fishing enthusiasts and bloggers projected him to be next year’s champion. His face appeared on the big spring cover of Bass Fishing Today magazine. He was interviewed on ESPN.
Faith buried herself at the station with more stories, which delighted Clark Ravino and earned her a full-time morning anchor spot. Then he dangled the big one in front of her, luring her even further into her career.
“Faith, I have good news,” he said one day after she’d wrapped up the morning broadcast. “Come meet me in my office at five thirty. I want to take you to dinner.”
There was a time she’d have worried about an impromptu dinner invite, wondering how to frame the fact she’d be home late so her husband wouldn’t fuss. Now she simply sent him a text.
Home late tonight.
Of course, then she remembered he’d left for Arkansas that morning and wasn’t expected back until the weekend. So it didn’t really matter anyway.
The momentary thaw in their relationship had been just that—momentary. Now the way they related to one another seemed to be colder than ever.
Clark took her to dinner at Brennan’s, an upscale downtown restaurant known for its Creole cuisine. Despite her marital troubles, Faith found her stomach buzzing with excitement. His choice of restaurants signaled something big.
He waited until after their table waiter flamed the bananas foster and served up the sweet concoction over vanilla bean ice cream before he got down to why he’d invited her.
“Faith,” he said, “over the past weeks I’ve been meeting with the boys upstairs. We all agree you are a talent we don’t want to lose. We’d like to make you an offer.”
“Oh?” She forced her reply to sound nonchalant. Word had been getting around about her, and rumor had it other stations were watching. He knew it and so did she. The key was to play this right, to extract every ounce of advantage and use this capital wisely.
His mouth drew into a slow grin. “Let’s just cut to the chase. We explored moving you into the evening anchor spot.”
Her heart skipped a frightened beat. “But . . .”
“But we have a better idea.”
She held a spoonful of gooey banana mixture suspended in the air. “I’m listening.”
Clark leaned forward. “We’d like to offer you your own morning program—something like a cross between Kathy Lee and Hoda and the Katie Couric show. You’d have your own studio and we’d tape daily in front of a live audience.”
Her mind raced. Her own show?
She blinked and lowered the spoon to her plate. “That sounds wonderful. But what about my anchor spot?”
He tilted his head. “If you still want your morning slot and think you can juggle the workload, you can have it. In fact, the timing would work out well to wrap the news and pull your audience directly over to your hour-long show.”
She finally let herself smile. “An hour, huh? Yeah, and what would we call it? The show, I mean.”
Clark rubbed his hands together. “We’ve already commissioned a focus group. By far, the name with the best reception in the target audience was Faith on Air.” He looked up at her like a pimply-faced kid who had just offered his girlfriend a promise ring. “So what do you think? Do you like it?”
Like it? She was thrilled.
“What about the evening anchor slot? I still want to be considered for any openings down the road. I’m not going to retract from my goal of making it onto The Today Show someday.” She winked and gave him a wide smile.
He chuckled. “Well, this show fits beautifully into someday attaining your grandiose plans.”
As expected, Geary didn’t share her enthusiasm over her promotion, though to his credit he tried to hide the fact. “Oh? Well, that’s good news. I mean, that’s going to be a lot of work. But that’s what you wanted, right?”
When she shared the news with Wendell and Veta, they expressed similar concern. “Oh, honey,” Veta said while stirring up some brownies for their midweek Bible study group. “I hope they don’t work you half to death. You’re so busy now you barely have any time left over.”
No doubt her in-laws had noticed the growing rift in her and Geary’s marriage. They’d mentioned Wendell would be teaching a new series from the pulpit titled “Aisle Altar Hymn”—a not-so-subtle message to their daughter-in-law, she suspected.
She knew it would take far more than some Bible teaching to mend a relationship that was quickly coming apart.
After the announcement of the new show, Faith got caught up in a whirlwind of promotion activities. There were meetings, focus groups, logo designs, and head shots. She filmed promo clips and interviews to be aired during launch week.
After much consideration, the set designers went with cream-colored sofas against a pretty backdrop in shades of aqua—very feminine and inviting. The goal was to make Faith Marin a trusted friend on television, someone women across southern Texas could rely on to provide what they needed to know, when they needed to know it.
In particular, advertisers hoped to ride that idea all the way into her audience’s bank accounts.
More and more often, as the weeks went by leading up to her big debut, Faith stayed in town at the condo she’d never let go. The idea to forego driving back and forth between the station and their place at Lake Conroe just made sense. Especially since Geary was so infrequently home anyway.
Excitement built as the big day neared for her debut program. The producers had a stellar lineup planned. The early minutes of the show would feature on-screen shots of city dignitaries wishing her and the new program much success.
That would be followed with an entertainment piece—a studio visit with an up-and-coming country vocalist named Jaslyn Ausmus. The chef would show viewers how to prepare bananas foster at home (hopefully without starting a fire), and then she’d offer their closing segment, a piece on aging gracefully.
She’d had to do a lot of talking but had finally convinced Clark and the others to let her bring Barbara Dover Nelson on for some “happy talk” about how she’d successfully transitioned after leaving the station and the keys to a happy retirement.
Faith waited until two days before the big show to call Geary.
She held her breath while choosing her words carefully. “I see on the calendar that you get back to town tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I’ll be back for three days before I head out to Memphis. I’m doing a fund-raiser for at-risk youth.”
“Oh, that sounds really great.” She hated how timid her voice sounded. She wanted to ask him when their mode of conversation had become so measured and polite. When had they determined their differences were so insurmountable that they’d quit being lovers and decided to act like they were nothing but well-behaved acquaintances?
Faith couldn’t even remember the last time they’d been the least bit physical with one another.
Did he miss her like she missed him?
“Geary,” she ventured, “I have a favor to ask.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” She could tell he was eating while talking to her.
“Faith on Air’s premiere is in the morning. Tomorrow evening the station is throwing a party to celebrate. Will you come? To the party, I mean? With me?” Had she really just rambled? She held her breath and waited.
And waited.
“Uh, I suppose I can. Yeah, I can do that.”
Relief flooded her. “You will? Thank you!” She rushed on to give him all the details he’d need to meet up with her at the party venue.
Knowing Geary would join her at the party buoyed her spirits.
For far too long, the distance between them had been growing, and frankly, she was frightened about how their relationship seemed to be disintegrating. She didn’t know how to stop it. And she was lonely.
Sometimes at night, when everything quieted and she had only the sound of the clock on her bedside table and her conflicted thoughts to listen to, she would dare to wonder if she’d made the right decision. The cost of holding tight to her career dreams had been high. Maybe too high.
Throughout the dark nights she’d toss and turn while fighting to sleep, only to drift into a deep, fitful slumber hours before dawn. Then the alarm would go off and she’d wake to the sunlight of morning, when the life she’d wanted started all over again.