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Dallas tossed and thrashed all night. Every time she closed her eyes, she remembered one by one the things she’d faced today: the realization that, with Christmas only two and a half weeks away, they’d be announcing the anchor job and, with it, the fate of her career. That she’d been ordered to direct a children’s play when she knew nothing about directing or children. That she’d be stuck working closely with Cal until the play was over—a man who she managed to both despise and be drawn to at the same time. And then, worst of all, the mother who had abandoned her so long ago, who had chosen one of her children over the other, had decided she wanted to be in touch. It was all too much for one day, for one person, and Dallas couldn’t bring herself to face it.
The best thing she could do was to shove it all down as she had been doing for years. She would have to hold herself together just a little longer to get through Christmas. She exhaled and closed her eyes.
Wilhelmina curled up next to her, purring as she snuggled. Dallas tried to rest and fall sleep, but it was almost impossible to turn her mind off.
How much longer could this coping mechanism work?
5
Dallas woke up early the next morning. Between thoughts of her mother and the house across the street decorated for Christmas with more lights than Times Square, she’d barely gotten any rest at all. She wondered if they were trying to get her to notice them and put them on TV, and she said as much to Daniel as they left to cover their first story of the day.
“They’ve put up so many lights, I swear, I wake up believing I’m in New York City,” Dallas told him as they pulled out of the station lot.
“Why don’t you complain?” he asked.
“I think that would just egg them on,” she said. Surprisingly, she felt pretty good this morning in spite of all that was going on. It was a new day and that meant she was a day closer to that anchor seat...she hoped.
“I can’t believe we’re going to cover the Christmas promotion at Lewis’s new radio station. That just sounds crazy,” she said.
“I know. But he’s hired these two new girls from Tennessee and they’re doing wonders over there. They’re twins but don’t look a thing alike.“
“I thought we were covering their Twelve Days of Christmas thing?” she asked.
“Oh, we are, but those new girls are so cute...I hoped we could spend some time getting to know them, too. One of them is the promotions director and that’s who you’re interviewing, Abigail Harper.”
“Okay, great. I’ll talk to her while you gawk.” Dallas smirked at him.
She was happy to be busy with this story today. She’d gotten a message earlier from her news director, Mike Maddox, saying he wanted to meet with her later on. Just thinking of that meeting made her heart jump. She hoped it wasn’t about her less-than-stellar performance at yesterday’s play practice. She also had another rehearsal tonight, which she was not at all looking forward to.
They arrived at the newly restored Brooks Mansion, a historic building in the center of town that housed the brand-new WRCT—Lewis Heart’s new Crimson Tide radio station. This was Lewis’s dream come true. He’d fought to save the building when it had faced being torn down, and he’d risked a lot to turn it into the place it had become.
Dallas knew Lewis and his family very well. They all had gone to both high school and college together. Dallas suddenly recalled yesterday’s nasty confrontation with Cal after rehearsal. Cal was Lewis’s best friend, so he would definitely tell Cal all about her being there to cover the Twelve Days of Christmas promotion at the new radio station. What would Cal tell Lewis about her?
Dallas decided to try her best to get off the naughty list and be nice. She needed a good public image if she wanted to move up in the ranks. She was quite familiar with that whole more flies with honey thing, and it was time to use that to her advantage.
“Hey, Lewis, I hear you have a promotion going on around here,” she said as she came through the front door. Lewis was just stepping out of his office to head to the studio when she and Daniel arrived.
“Hey, there, Dallas, good to see y’all. Lemme get Abigail. She can tell y’all all about it.” He headed to the front office where Caroline Mayfield was tending the phones. She was a local beauty pageant winner with long golden-brown hair and green eyes, and she always kept that gorgeous summer tan—even in the dead of winter.
“Hey, Ms. Dubois, Abigail is expecting y’all,” Caroline said, flashing her perfect pageant teeth.
She picked up the phone and announced their arrival. While they waited, Dallas and Daniel wandered around the beautiful lobby, noticing all the exquisite details. Lewis had restored the place even beyond its former glory. The lobby was in a parlor to the left of the front door; a gorgeous wide curving staircase led up to the second floor from the center hall. Just to the back of the stairs on the right was the massive double doorway leading to Lewis’s office. Tapestry carpets and sconce lighting created an amber glow throughout the first floor.
Just to the back of the lobby, behind the staircase, a huge studio surrounded with glass windows held all the very latest microphones and technical equipment. Windows from the outside made the studio visible from the sidewalk, so fans could stand on the street and watch the recording of the shows, usually starring Alabama football players and other athletic stars from the campus.
Alabama was the national champion in four different sports some years, but with the reign of the famous football coach, Paul “Bear” Bryant, having lasted over twenty years, the university was mostly famous for their Crimson Tide football team. Though the Bear had died thirty years ago, the winning dynasty continued under coach Nick Saban. Dallas certainly knew her football well. She’d cheered for the Crimson Tide while Cal was their quarterback.
“Ms. Harper will be right down,” Caroline said.
Dallas relaxed a bit in the gorgeous surroundings. The regal Brooks Mansion was all decked out for Christmas. A twelve-foot tree stood in the front hall, greeting guests and tourists with warm, glistening lights. A huge wreath covered in Crimson Tide decorations and crimson-and-white ribbon hung on the beveled glass front doors of the large porch. Christmas carols were even playing over the speakers hooked up throughout the building.
“I’ll Be Home for Christmas” began next, and it shot a little pang through Dallas as she waited for Abigail. Home for Christmas likely meant another lonely Christmas alone with Wilhelmina.
Abigail appeared at the top of the stairs. A big smile on her face, she was a Princess Kate look-alike. She wore a dark-colored suit with a Ralph Lauren ruffled blouse and high-heeled black patent leather pumps.
“Hey, Ms. Dubois. Thanks so much for coming out,” she said, her hand outstretched to Dallas.
Dallas smiled, but remained guarded. This woman was Lewis’s family now. Abigail was Vivi’s cousin, a sort of cousin-in-law for Lewis. She knew she needed to at least act as if she was interested. But really, was this the type of story that would get her recognized? Get her that anchor seat? She didn’t think so at all. Maybe she needed to mention this to her news director. It was starting to feel as though they were sending her out on less important stories on purpose. Maybe someone had it in for her.
“Hey, Ms. Harper, so nice to meet you. Where would you like to do the interview?” Dallas asked her. “And, please, call me Dallas.”
“Right here is just fine, I think. We can get the big Christmas tree in the background. And do call me Abigail.” The two ladies chitchatted for a minute while Daniel set up the shot.
“Okay, ready when y’all are,” Daniel announced. Abigail began her description of the big Twelve Days of Christmas promotion.
“This fabulous contest will benefit the Tuscaloosa Children’s Home, along with other worthwhile charities here in town,” she explained.
“How does it work?” Dallas asked.
“Well, we’re staging a sort of themed scavenger hunt where people will have to track down specific items that represent the twelve days of Christmas. Our new talk show host, Annabelle, who hosts a segment called Saved by the Belle every day at noon, will be giving out clues. We ask that no one really bring us live animals here to the station,” she said with a laugh, “but something that represents the days themselves. We’ve hidden those items all over town. The person who can gather all the twelve days wins an iPad. To enter, anyone can fill out the form online and make a small donation. Remember, all proceeds will go to the Tuscaloosa Children’s Home, a wonderful organization.”
“Well, this is just terrific,” Dallas said, forcing a smile. “Anything else you’d like to add?”
“That’s all for now. Just stay tuned to WTAL and WRCT for updates,” Abigail finished.
Dallas wrapped up the story and thanked Abigail for her time.
“I’m so happy your news director agreed to partner with us on this. It gives us tremendous visibility,” Abigail said as Daniel began to pack up the cords.
Suddenly Dallas realized that her news director had also set up her new job directing the play. Was he using her to do all the station’s charity work? Especially when there were bigger, higher profile stories she should be spending her time on? Maybe he didn’t want her to get the anchor seat after all. She’d always thought Mike liked her, but if that were true, why would he do this to her? It felt as if she was being sabotaged. All charity work. Every single story, except the one about the missing Baby Jesus statue, was about charities. Not a single lead story had been assigned to her since Thanksgiving, now that she thought about it. She would most definitely bring this up with Mike this afternoon at their meeting.
“Thanks again, Ms. Harper. I’m sure we’ll be back for a follow-up story next week to check in on how it’s all developing. Good luck with the contest,” Dallas said as she turned to walk out.
Just then, Daniel shouted, “Good Lord almighty, do ya’ll know there are three chickens on the front porch?”
“Oh, no. That didn’t take very long at all, did it? I was so afraid of this.” Abigail sighed. She stepped out in front of them, nearly tripping over the animals, one taking flight right into the mansion.
“Y’all, please, you have to take these chickens outta here,” she shouted to the skinny man in overalls.
“This here is the three French hens. That count for somethin’?”
Abigail lunged after the birds, shaking her hands wildly and shooing them off the porch. “This is gonna be a long two weeks,” she said, smiling at Dallas before making her way over to re-explain the rules of the contest to her visitor.
“Good luck,” Dallas responded, a bit surprised at how sweet Abigail seemed to be, even when chasing chickens around a porch. Dallas wasn’t used to that. People who were close to Lewis and Vivi didn’t usually smile at Dallas. But Abigail and her sister didn’t seem to know anything about her history with the little clique from her past. The sisters had just moved here from Tennessee. Dallas kinda liked that fact. She had never had a girlfriend. Too many people in town knew what her mother had done, abandoning one child for the sake of the other; they knew about Dallas’s woman-lovin’ father and his tarnished reputation and they assumed she’d be just the same. When her relationship with Blake hadn’t panned out either, people mostly assumed Dallas was to blame, since everyone thought Blake was perfect. Truthfully, Dallas had never had a chance to prove to herself that she could even have a girlfriend. She flashed Abigail a real smile as she turned toward the news van, the possibility of a new friendship cheering her mood.
Dallas practiced her speech to Mike all the way back to the station. Why would he be trying to hurt her chances for the anchor seat? She couldn’t even fathom an answer. As they pulled into a parking spot, she took a deep breath, ready for the confrontation. Well, the meeting. But now she had an agenda. She was determined to get to the bottom of this latest possible sabotage and find herself a lead story to cover. Dallas always had a bit of a chip on her shoulder, always assumed someone was out to get her. Maybe this time she was right.
6
Dallas jumped out of the news van, walking at a steady clip to the newsroom to find Mike. She was early for their meeting and could see he was in with someone else. She paced outside his window.
Her tenacity and focus had always been strong suits. She certainly never gave up on anything she wanted. That drive and bulldog mentality hadn’t always benefited her, though. In fact, it had been one of the problems back when her mother had abandoned her. She just couldn’t give up on her brother. She was a fighter. That’s why she wrote all those letters to him that first year. But eventually, she realized he would never answer her, so she gave up trying to contact him. But she tried as hard as she could to hold what was left of her family together, even at fifteen she thought she could fix it all. That never-give-up attitude was always her innate personality.
Those traits helped her enormously as a reporter, though, and were much of the reason she’d been as successful as she had been so early in her career. She would do whatever it took to get a story—and that had never been truer than it was now. She’d fight Mike on this if she had to, but she really hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Dallas went to her desk to wait on Mike. She thumbed through the message notes that had been left on her desk. At the top of the pile was another one from her mother.
I need to see you.
She sighed and put it in her drawer. Dallas got out her calendar, looking over the next few days. Some of her stories had already been assigned. Obviously, if they had already been assigned, they were just fluff. No breaking news. No lead stories.
Mike emerged from his office and nodded his head to Dallas. He would see her now. She straightened her spine and gave her long hair a toss, ready to go after what she wanted and get her questions answered.
“Hey, Dallas,” Mike said, shutting the door after her. “Come on in and have a seat.”
Dallas sat down and crossed her long tan legs. She had on a cream-colored shift dress that hit above her knees and tall, knee-high boots with spiky high heels in nude leather. Since Mike had been the one to schedule the meeting, she had to sit through whatever he had to say before she could dig in and ask him why he was sabotaging her. But she knew she’d better rephrase that before she actually said it, for fear of sounding too accusatory. She braced herself for Mike’s comments.
“Dallas, I need to talk to you about yesterday.”
Here it comes.
“I wanted to call you in here to thank you.”
Wait...what?
“I know this whole directing thing is really out of your comfort zone, especially since you have a lot on your plate competing for the anchor chair. So thanks for agreeing to do the play.” Mike leaned back in his swivel chair and smiled.
Dallas didn’t know what to think. She tried to smile, to look gracious, but she was instantly suspicious. It was her nature not to trust.
“Sure, Mike. No problem. I mean...I knew I had to do it. It’s fine.” Dallas really didn’t know what to say. She really didn’t have any idea how she was going to bring up the topic of being shoved into all the fluff pieces lately, especially after the unexpected praise. The timing seemed off, but waiting was not something Dallas did very well, especially when it came to questions about her career. With no other plan available to her, she dived right in.
“Mike, I’ve been wondering about something.... Lately, I seem to be coverin’ a lot of...charity-based stories, you know? I just sorta miss having something more challenging. I miss the excitement of the leads.” There. It was out there and she’d used that honey method that had come to serve her so well. She batted her long lashes and uncrossed her legs, leaning forward toward Mike.
“Oh, I don’t know. I think you’re doing the same amount of leads as all the reporters here. And you know everyone is doing lots of charity stories right now. It’s just that time of year.”
Dallas wasn’t buying it. She leaned back in her chair and shifted position so that her skirt inched up a little higher on her thigh. She had Mike’s attention.
“Look, Mike,” she began, “it’s no secret between me and you that I want that anchor seat. I just wanna make sure I’m on the right track to get it.”
“Don’t worry, Dallas. It’s all good. Now look, I gotta get to another meeting downtown, but I did want you to know I appreciate you doing that play. Now, take care and get outta here.”
He winked at her as they both stood, her towering over the short, rather chubby news director in her five-inch boots. She wasn’t satisfied but went on back to her desk anyway. Her phone was ringing as she approached. Any call could be a lead to something big, so she hurried to the ringing phone.
“Dallas Dubois,” she answered.
“Please don’t hang up again.” LouAnn was on the other end of the line.
“Mother, I told you now is a bad time,” Dallas said, shocked at her persistence.
“I just want to see you, that’s all. It’s been too long. Please.” LouAnn sounded desperate.
“Yes, it has been a really long time. And that was most certainly not my choice. You can’t wait twenty years and expect that we’ll just pick up where we left off. Now I have a job to do. Please don’t call me again.” And she hung up.
There it was again. That lump in her throat. It was choking her. Daniel must have seen the emotional call from his edit bay, because he was now making his way toward her.
“Hey, you okay?” he whispered, almost nervously.
“No, not really. But I will be. I just need a minute.”
“What’s going on? Did Mike have a problem with the Baby Jesus story?”
“No, it’s nothing about Mike. It’s private.”
“Well, I’m here if you need me. I hate seein’ you sad, ya know?”
Dallas knew Daniel had a good heart, but if she had to work with him on a daily basis, there was no way she could let her guard down in front of him. Business was business and she had to keep it that way.
“I’m fine, Daniel. Don’t worry. Just the time of year...all that sentimental stuff. And then, you know, the fact that two reporters will be let go in a few weeks. I guess I just let it get to me, but I’m fine now.”
“Aw, Dallas, they would never let you go. I mean, after all that fantastic election coverage and that Find Lewis campaign you launched last spring, you’re a famous reporter. Come on, you know that,” he reminded her.
She smiled a weak smile as she reached for a tissue. Not to dab her eyes, but to blot her lipstick. She had managed to swallow that lump and move past the moment with the help of Daniel, although she would never admit she needed anyone.
Christmastime or not, she had grown used to going it alone. And she wasn’t fixin’ to change that for anyone—not for Mike, not for Daniel and especially not for a long-absentee mother.
7
Late that afternoon, Dallas and Daniel wrapped up the editing on the Twelve Days of Christmas story they’d shot that morning, then she grabbed her coat to head to the Bama Theatre for another rehearsal. The weather had turned bitter cold, which was totally abnormal for Tuscaloosa in mid-December. It was normally mild in Tuscaloosa, but this time of year the weather could be unpredictable. A freak snowstorm one day, then the next, sunny and sixty degrees. The current drop in temperature had Dallas bundled up beyond recognition—something she really didn’t like.
She parked in the front of the theater and made her way inside. Just as she entered the lobby, she heard her name mentioned from around the corner in the auditorium. Cal was talking to Betty Ann, the choir director. Dallas turned her back so they wouldn’t see she was there and listened.
“Oh, Cal. Give her a chance. I think she’ll figure it out,” Betty Ann was reasoning.
“I’m not so sure,” Cal shot back. “I have known this woman most of my life, and I’m telling you, she never changes. She’s probably the worst choice we could make for a director replacement. She’ll scare those poor kids to death and they’ll quit.”
Dallas bristled at that. Maybe she was a bit standoffish, but scary? Come on!
“Well, I think that’s just a tad harsh,” Betty Ann said. “Now, don’t you? She’s a media professional, which I would say makes her quite qualified—more than you or me, at least. And I know the board checked with her news director, and the TV station is fully behind her. Don’t judge her too quickly, okay? Let’s give her another chance.”
“I guess we don’t have a choice,” Cal said. “But I’m watching out for those kids. They’re my priority. Some of them from the foster home don’t have a soul in the world to protect or support them. I’m not gonna be able to just stand back and watch her make demands they can’t meet, or talk down to them and make ’em feel worse about themselves.”
Dallas thrust her nose in the air and rounded the corner, surprising them both.
“Good afternoon,” she said as she walked quickly right by them.
Both of them stood, bug-eyed, likely wondering if she’d heard them. Betty Ann made a quick exit down the theater side aisle as Cal headed to the sound booth upstairs.
“Okay, children take your places,” Dallas said as she removed her long coat and warm gloves, throwing them on a theater seat and climbing the stairs to the stage. “We don’t have any time to waste today.” She clapped her hands together and got right to work, directing them to their positions for the first scene. Better to make this successful than to fail in front of everyone, she thought. Nobody really thinks I can do this, so I’ll just have to prove them wrong. Plus, she knew Cal was listening to everything up there in the booth, as if he was God, so she was more determined than ever to show him just what she was capable of.
