Page 89 of No More Heartbreakers

“Okay…”

“I’m going to be stepping down from my position next month. I saw my doctor last week for a follow up, and they’ve found a recurrence of the breast cancer.”

My heart dropped into my lap. “Oh no. Are you okay?”

She gave me a tight smile. “I feel fine right now. And I’m going to fight it as hard as I can, just like last time, and I’m sure I’ll beat it. But I’m twelve years older this go-round. And my kids will both be graduating high school in the next couple of years, so I’m re-evaluating my priorities. I’d like to spend as much time with them as possible right now. Dan thinks it’s a good idea, too. I’ve been doing news for twenty-six years, so I think that’s a pretty nice career, a pretty good place to stop.”

“Oh Janet.”

I scooted forward in my chair to reach across her desktop for her hand. She took mine and squeezed it hard.

“What did you want to ask me? I’ll do anything I can to help,” I said.

“Well, actually, I’d like to helpyou. Your contract is up in less than a month, and I’m not sure if you’ve been looking elsewhere, but obviously we’d like to keep you.” She paused. “I want you to take over anchoring the weeknights with Dan after I step down.”

“Oh. Wow.”Notwhat I’d been expecting.

“Small-town life isn’t for everyone, but you have local ties, you know the community, and the viewers love you on the weekends. The overnight ratings have been great for the past few months. If youwouldlike to stay, weeknights would give you a much higher salary and some good security. I don’t know who Mr. Aubrey will hire to replace me as news director, but while I’m still here, I could draw up a guaranteed contract that would give you as long as five years before they could even think of replacing you. And I’m sure they wouldn’t want to after that. Chances are you could stay as long as you like—make a career out of it if you wanted to. As I said, I’ve anchored here for twenty-six years. This market likes familiar faces. It could be a very nice life for you, if you wanted it.”

“Wow,” I repeated. “This is kind of a shock—it’s so sudden. Thank you. Really, thank you so much. Can I… could I think about it and get back to you?”

“Sure. Of course. Give it some thought. And listen, I’m not telling anybody else yet about my diagnosis, so keep it close until I can make some sort of announcement, okay?”

“Of course. Thank you. Again. And… well, I’m so sorry about the cancer coming back. I know you’re gonna be fine.”

We hugged each other.

“You’re right, I will.” Janet patted my back in a comforting way. “Okay, time to get yourself to Athens. Go make some news.”

Aric was walking by as I left her office. “Hey—I’m putting the gear into the car. Want to meet me out there in five?” he asked.

“Sure.” I was still in a daze. “Be right there.”

Janet had certainly given me something to consider. Because of my insecure foot-dragging I had only three weeks left on my contract and no other job offers—well, maybe the WKRN thing would turn out to be something, wherever it was.

The main anchor job here would certainly solve my financial issues. I could afford a place with more than two rooms, cover my own bills and car payment, and basically be a giant oarfish in a goldfish tank.

There’s an old country song that says “everyone dies famous in a small town.” A few years as main anchor around here, and I would be the most famousofthe famous, like Dan-n-Janet.

But a five-year contract? It seemed so long.

Itwouldbe safe. I would be comfortable. I would beveryclose to my family.

And I’d get to watch Aric finish his contract here then take off for a new place, new people.

A new girl.

When I opened the station’s back door, he’d pulled the car around and had it ready and waiting for me. I missed a step and nearly tumbled down the whole set of concrete stairs, barely grabbing onto the iron handrail in time.

Man, I did not quite have all my Lego pieces together here—the news of Janet’s cancer returning had me shell-shocked.

My emotions felt as fragile as a minute-old soap bubble. I managed to make it down the stairs in one piece and climbed into the car, thinking of Janet’s teenaged daughters, of poor Dan. Of how everyone would react when she announced it to the station staff.

“How was your morning?” Aric asked, blissfully unaware of the impending bombshell from our boss.

He’d tuned the satellite radio to a techno station. The feathery female vocalist contrasted oddly with the song’s driving beat. Irritating.

“Good. Busy.” I pulled out my phone to do a search for WKRN, trying to distract myself from the raw emotions churning in my gut.

---