Journey To Forever. Carol Steward

pressure from their breakup, school and her parents’ disapproval had sent her further into a depression. She’d gained back every ounce she’d lost, plus some by graduation. When her grandfather had invited her to become an intern at the newspaper to see if she would like to follow in his footsteps she’d accepted the challenge. For a while she had thought she’d found something to make her parents proud of her. Apparently this wasn’t the right decision either. One day in the copyeditor’s seat and she had people angry with her already.

      She might have an eye for writing, but she obviously had no savvy when it came to journalism. She’d had to fill in with that article for this morning’s paper. If she hadn’t had to cover for the copyeditor in a pinch, this would never have happened.

      She quickly walked the two blocks from the parking lot carrying a fruit tray for the Labor Day potluck the staff had planned. Morale needed a boost, according to the managing editor. Which, of course, meant eating.

      Everyone had brought treats, yet she felt more than conspicuous adding her contribution to the table after everyone had already served themselves. Thinking of all the delicious calories on the huge table, she pushed her way through. “Here’s a fruit tray, help yourself.” For the first six months of her internship, she’d gained steadily, despite her efforts to go to the gym. Only recently had she broken through and started losing. She wasn’t about to blow it now.

      Quietly, Nikki fixed a plate, then headed back to her desk. She sat down and began to contemplate the direction her life was going.

      Misty turned her chair around to face Nikki’s. “Surely your diet can have a day off!”

      She glanced at her friend, mustering a quick smile. “Oh, it’s had a day off already. I just came from a picnic,” Nikki said softly. “I found out that I made a big mistake last night with some filler I used in place of the water-theft article. Apparently some people think we should ignore both sides of the shelter issue.”

      Misty nodded. “I’ve heard this issue is getting heated. So what?”

      She nodded and silently turned back to her computer. Nikki had been surprised to find she enjoyed the fast pace of the newspaper. She hadn’t minded any aspect of the job, until today. She hoped the copyeditor would be back at work tonight so Nikki couldn’t make any more mistakes. How had she let her grandfather talk her into this?

      “Is something wrong?” Misty rolled her chair closer. Misty looked into her reddened eyes and must have seen more than barbecue sauce. “It is, tell me what’s happened.”

      “I met the man doing the fund-raiser for the homeless shelter at the picnic tonight. He wasn’t very happy with our support of the other side.”

      “What support?”

      “Remember, I filled in for Michelle last night? We were short on copy, so I took this one from the top of the list.” She picked up the paper on her desk, turned to the article and waited while Misty read it.

      Finally, Misty said, “This is a newspaper, not a periodical. Journalism is putting your own beliefs aside to tell the full story. That piece was not an editorial. Colin isn’t used to someone opposing his causes. That story told about the reasons the opposition is fighting the shelter going into their neighborhood. You didn’t do anything wrong. News is what sells papers. Is that what has you so blue tonight? He’s in the business. He should know that conflict is what sells papers.”

      Nikki thought again of Colin Wright. Of his big smile, and those deep blue eyes that seemed to reach to the depths of her soul. How could she explain her mangled emotions to anyone without seeming like a spoiled rich girl?

      Don’t do something stupid, Nikki. She’d had these low days before, and they always seemed to pass. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I thought I was going to be in trouble.”

      “Nah! You’re going to have to get a thicker skin if you’re going to survive in this business, kid.”

      Nikki laughed. Misty couldn’t be any more than five years older than she was. “Kid?”

      Misty blushed. “Sounded good to remind myself that I’m not the new kid on the block anymore. You’re not the first to have a tough time with a the requirements of the job. We all go through it time and again. Some days it’s really tough to be a good employee and a Christian when it’s obvious that some journalists live for sensationalism. That’s probably what Colin wanted to think.”

      Nikki looked at her friend’s bright face and returned the sympathetic smile. “Thanks, Misty. I feel like there’s just so much I don’t know about publishing.” Misty had taken Nikki under her wing from Nikki’s first day on the job. Even she hadn’t made the connection between Nikki and her grandfather, which would make it even more embarrassing that Nikki knew so little about the industry when people started figuring it out. She made a mental note to enroll in some journalism classes at the college next semester. She had put it off too long already. With a degree in business administration with an emphasis in nonprofit organizations, she’d thought Grandfather would find a job that matched her skills. Now I do sound like a spoiled rich girl.

      “Take a break, Nikki. You’re way too hard on yourself. I don’t know what burdens you’re holding inside, but it’s time you cast them aside. Life is too full of opportunities to dwell on what’s already past.”

      That would be wonderful advice, if she only knew how.

      “Nikki, in my office, please,” the managing editor said as he walked past, a platter of food in front of him.

      “Great, I told you I’d be in trouble.”