Page 7 of The Business Trip

“Thank you, B!”

I suppose it did sound fancy to fly to San Diego. But I knew the truth: Not only was I fed up with this kind of travel, there wasn’t a drop of glamour to it. I was flying coach. The time difference would make it hard to adjust and sleep well, and I needed to give my boss, Dave, a full report when I got back. I had a plan for that.

The newsroom was only slightly buzzing at this hour. The two anchors I had seen on the morning show were talking and joking with different people on opposite sides of the room, as they usually were. Sometimes I felt as if they were in competition to see who could make a coworker laugh the loudest.

The overnight producers were either gone or packing up, and I waved to two of them. The assignment desk manager was just arriving and setting down his coffee mug for the day. My assistant news director had a dentist appointment that morning and would be coming in about an hour late, so it was on me to get the dayside reporters going.

My office was set off to the side of the newsroom. It wasn’t large and had no windows, but I had done my best to make it feel cozy with a throw rug, some accent lighting to offset the fluorescent overhead, a few framed pictures on the wall, and some knickknacks on the bookshelf.

Slipping off my coat, I settled into the computer. Already I had more than a dozen new emails just since I had left the house. It didn’t take long to go through those and hit the coffeeroom for one more blast of caffeine. I was slowly starting to wake up.

Walking to the conference room where my other news managers were assembling for our meeting at 8:30, I set my laptop on the table.

“Good morning, happy Wednesday! Let’s get going.” Our team included the dayside executive producer, the assignment desk manager, the head of digital, a special projects producer, and our chief photographer. “Just a reminder I have to fly out this afternoon, but Bruce will be here after his dentist appointment.”

Three hours later, the reporters were all on their stories, Bruce was back in the saddle, and it was time for me to head to the airport. I made it a point to stop and see all of my managers, checking in on various projects and setting up a few meetings for when I returned. As I closed my office door, people in the newsroom started calling out:

“Have a good time!”

“Lucky! So jealous!”

“You won’t decide to stay in sunny California, will you?”

“You never know!” I said. “No, I’m pretty sure you’ll be stuck with me next week!”

I was feeling annoyed again about always being the one to pick up the slack in these travel situations, but tried to cover my irritation with joking. They had no idea how much effort these trips took. Everyone seemed to think it was all fun and games. At least on this trip I would make it so.

At the airport parking lot, my phone pinged just as I was unloading my suitcase from the back of the car. Fumbling for it in my pocket, I saw that it was my sister, Renee. She lived in Indianapolis near our childhood home and worked as a schoolteacher. She must be on her lunch break.

Hey, Little, be safe flying today.

She always called me Little because I was five years younger, Mom and Dad’s “oopsie baby.” I was touched that Renee had taken a moment to reach out so I texted her back.

Thanks, Big. Flight is on time. I’ll text you when I land.

I threw in a heart emoji. Renee had been like a surrogate mother to me when Mom died of breast cancer while I was still in college. Dad had done his best in her absence, but now he was gone too, a heart attack taking him not long after Jason, Evan, and I moved to Madison. The absence of my parents left a crater of sadness in me. At least I had Renee.

The suitcase bumped along through the quiet of the parking lot. I checked my Apple Watch: perfect timing as long as security lines weren’t unusually long. They almost never were in Madison, so I was fairly confident it would be fine, and I was right. I was in and out quickly and at my gate with over forty-five minutes to spare.

Airport food was insanely expensive, of course, and tricky to find for a budding vegetarian. I had been trying to be one ever since Robert, a longtime vegan, made me watch a documentary on a slaughterhouse. I grabbed myself a basic salad for lunch at one of the kiosks and figured I could get something else to eat in Denver before the second flight. I didn’t have much of an appetite anyway.

My fellow passengers in the boarding area were the usual mix of work types buried in their laptops, a few older couples who I guessed to be on retirement trips, a guy at the countertrying to gate-check a snowboard, a woman with a baseball cap so low I couldn’t see her face, a group of middle schoolers jostling one another as chaperones kept shushing them, and moms and dads laden with diaper bags and strollers and looking stressed.Please don’t let there be a screaming baby, I thought. An uneventful flight would be a perfect flight.

PART TWO

CHAPTER 5Anna

The Day After the Flight

I woke up to see three new voicemails, all from Glenn. Still lying in bed, I hit play on the first one and his voice blared like a tornado siren.

“Anna—where the fuck is Jasmine? She pulls this shit too often. I need her to come home, sofucking tell me where she’s atso I can go get her.”

Wow, that was a hell of a way to wake up. I rubbed my eyes. I really hadn’t expected Jasmine to just up and leave right after I showed her how to use Uber. I thought she’d give me a heads-up, maybe ask for my couch.

I didn’t even bother listening to the next two messages. Instead, I texted Jasmine.

Are you OK? Glenn is calling looking for you.

---