“I know.”
“And, you have done well there, haven’t you?”
He heard the sigh.
“Debbie?”
“What I mean about being awful is like what Ellen told me. She’s one of the reporters and she’s great. She did this story about a little boy dying after somebody stabbed him. She was right there with the paramedics and she was watching the little boy bleed to death. She said she was taking notes and when she got back to the station all she worried about was getting it done in time for the news, this story about a little boy dying.”
He could hear the tears building in her voice.
“And you know what happens? This guy Jim Brown, the news director, tells her that he didn’t think it wasn’t emotional enough, her story. Can you believe that? He’s the guy who’s in charge and he didn’t think a story about a little boy dying was emotional enough. How could it not be emotional enough?”
“Okay, I agree. That does sound rather callous, but what does it have to do with you and what you’re doing? You’re not telling me about you.”
“I know it all sounds silly.”
“No, I didn’t say it sounded silly. I said you haven’t told me anything about what is going on in your life. Are you making time for friends, getting out, that sort of thing?”
“Sometimes, and I have people over. I cook for them, dinner. But, then it got so hot. Nobody wants to do anything here when it’s so hot.”
There was a whine in her voice he hadn’t heard before.
“Any special friends at the station?”
“There is Ellen, that reporter I told you about. I really admire her. She is the best reporter there.” Her voice lifted.
“Oh, I have a feeling you are right up there.”
“No,” she said. “I’m pretty good, but not as good as her. But everything is fine,” she said strongly. “Really, it is.”
He had no reason to doubt her. He also had no reason to believe there was anything wrong but a vague discontent with the job and a city known for its oppressive summer heat. Probably nothing more than the usual boredom that comes when a job is learned. Still, was she telling him everything? He was beginning to think phone sessions were almost useless.
“You know, Debbie, you might consider seeing someone there, if you feel the need.” He said it casually, as though it didn’t matter, and perhaps it didn’t.
“Why?” There was a note of fear in her voice.
“I think it helps to know you have that option. Don’t you think so?”
“No,” she said, her voice tight. “I don’t think I need to see anyone. Everything is okay. I’m a little tired, that’s all.”
“I’m only saying it’s good to have the option.”
“You think there is something wrong?” Again, the fear.
“No, no. You sound fine. And, it doesn’t hurt to check in once in a while with me or someone out there. Just think about it, will you, Debbie?”
“Okay,” she said. “I will think about it.”
She lay back on her bed, the phone in her lap. Why would he say that about another doctor? It made her feel shaky, him saying that. She was tired, that was all. Maybe she didn’t explain it the right way. That was it. She needed to call him back and explain how she was working hard and sometimes she got blue. That’s all. Everything else was good. It was.
This was nothing like what happened in Baja and that only happened because she lied to herself about Michael and he had lied to her. This was completely different. She could tell him she knew that but if she called him back now, so soon, it would sound crazy.
Besides, who wouldn’t be tired and sad with all this heat. Like Ellen said, humans weren’t supposed to live in the desert.
*
Ellen didn’t tell Debbie the story about the dying boy the same way Debbie told it to the doctor. Ellen was neither shocked nor angry by Jim Brown’s reaction to the piece. In fact, as she told Debbie, it made her laugh.
“Didn’t think it was emotional enough.” She rolled her eyes at Debbie. “What an idiot.”
What bothered Ellen was her own reaction to the story.
“There I am watching the paramedics trying to stop all this bleeding and I am standing there trying to figure out if I can get back to the station in time to get this on the air.
“Then, I get back to the station and I am trying to confirm whether the kid died. I had to get that one piece of information before the piece went on. I am yelling at someone at the hospital to confirm death. That’s all I wanted. That’s all I cared about.” She sighed and shook her head. “Then, I go home and sit on the couch at stare at the wall. I realize I have no feelings at all about the boy, no feelings at all.”
She looked at Debbie then, to see her reaction. There was none.
WEATHER
“Art, when are we going to start having some of that weather that makes everyone want to move here?” Jean Ann beamed.
“Very soon, Jean Ann,” Art Novak beamed back from his standing position at the end of the anchor desk.
Tom Carter gave a hint of a smile. No words now but he’d have his say later. Sports was his baby.
This is what the audience loved, ate up, the anchors relaxing, talking. The consultants Back East told them that.
“Relax, chat,” they said. “This is the place for it. Right before weather or sports. Weather is a big draw, you know. You know, some people watch the whole newscast just to get the weather.”
Carter couldn’t care less. He used the three minutes of weather time to straighten his tie or check his script for incomplete sentences or grammatical errors.
“What the hell is this?” he would demand during a story or a commercial break. He would yell it into the anchor-desk phone, sending his words to the director’s
