Page 1 of Horoscope to Love
1
MATILDA
Almost as soon as I pass the city limits on my way to some Podunk small town in the middle of nowhere, the stress I’ve been carrying about the concerns for my job begins to lift off my shoulders. I may be on my way to track down a story for my job, but with each passing mile away from the office; I get a sense of clarity—that is until my phone starts to ring.
“I’m not picking up,” I tell the scowling face of my boss, Bill, flashing on the screen.
I’m no psychic, but I don’t need to answer to know that the scowling face on the screen is probably the same face he’s making as he calls me from the office. Technically he already rejected the idea of letting me pursue this story when I pitched it to him. I believe his exact words were, "Horoscopes are for the superstitious and gullible.” And while I don’t totally disagree with him, I couldn’t help but see the potential for a great human-interest piece when my best friend, Paige, suggested it.
She works at the same newspaper and writes the wedding announcements. We are opposites that bonded almost instantly after we were hired on. She’s a hopeless romantic who loves to live vicariously through the newly engaged couples she writes about. On the other hand, I am a bit more pragmatic. I won't just take something at face value. I need to understand the how and the why of any situation.
About a month ago, Paige noticed that many of the couples she’d spoken to recently had attributed their finding one another with the newspaper’s horoscope column. It seemed like a fluke when it was only a handful of couples, but after the fifteenth couple, it was clear that something was up. My interest was piqued, and like a dog with a bone, I wasn’t going to stop until I got some answers.
I cringe with each passing ring of my phone until, eventually, it stops. The voice of my GPS cuts in, announcing that I need to take the next exit towards my destination.
After my boss said no to my pitch, I left his office feeling defeated. But I couldn’t get it out of my mind. Besides, I was also in desperate need of a story that the higher-ups would notice. Other reporters at the paper were being let go left and right due to downsizing, and I thought that putting a spotlight on one of the paper’s more popular columns would help bring in more readers and save my job for a little bit longer. It’s not my fault that Bill couldn’t see the bigger picture.
My phone starts to ring again, but Paige’s smiling face flashes on the screen. Eager to chat with my best friend, I click the green answer button.
“Hey you,” I say.
“Matilda?” Bill’s voice asks, surprising me. “Where are you?”
Crap.
“I’m—at my desk,” I lie.
“Really? Because I’m standing next to your desk and I don't see you sitting in your chair. Instead, I'm staring at a scared intern who looks like he is about to pee his pants.”
“Well, stop staring at him, or you are going to have a mess on your hands."
Bill huffs into the phone, and I imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Where are you?”
“In my car.”
“On the way to the office? Because I know that you wouldn’t be crazy enough to risk your job over a story that I already told you not to pursue.”
"Bill, there is something here. I know it. And I'm going to find out who this 'Madame Zodiac' is and get her to explain why her horoscope predictions keep helping people fall in love. This city is filled with loveless singles. If they hear that reading our horoscope column could help them find love, think of the influx of readers.”
I can hear Paige’s muffled voice say something to him in the background.
“Fifteen couples?” He asks her. The tone of his voice shifts from annoyance to interest, and I know we are close to convincing him.
Everything she is saying to him is not new information. I've already told him all this, but obviously, he wasn't paying attention to me when I pitched him the story in his office.
“Matilda, you think you can have this story to me by Monday morning?” he asks.
It’s Friday, so it doesn’t give me much time, but considering my only other option is possible unemployment, I'll take whatever he is willing to provide me with.
“I’ll have it to you first thing,” I assure him.
He harrumphs into the phone, and then there is a shuffling sound like he's handing Paige back her phone.
“Mattie?”
“Yes, Judas.”
“Oh, you are hilarious,” she deadpans. “What was I supposed to do? I’m not going to get canned because you decided to go rogue and research a story he already said no to printing.”
