The Glory of Green (23 page)

I was among a handful of people, including Zach, who spoke at the funeral. Somehow I felt Zach had earned that privilege, even though Marti and a few others grumbled about a corporate newcomer charging into our private time. When it mattered most, Zach had treated Ed right.

My comments seemed a bit lightweight—corny stories like the time Ed put a banana on my telephone and called me, so I would pick the fruit up, thinking it was the receiver. I kept my comments short.

"No cry fest and no superhero stuff," Ed told me in one of my final visits with him.

At the service, I surprised myself and several other people by saying a short prayer. "Thank you, God, for the impact of Ed's life. Have mercy on all of us in the days ahead that we might be the people we were meant to be. Amen."

My colleagues and I awkwardly walked away from the grave. We were good at writing about emotion, but we didn't quite know how to handle it in this first-person version.

I cried all the way back to the newsroom, having designated myself the editor to make sure the Sunday paper got out.Sadness washed over me. Ed had never gotten the chance to live his new adventure, to try out his newspaper, to get out of Dayton and into Green, Louisiana.

His obit had missed the lead. Instead of going on and on about his distinguished career in journalism and how he was nearing retirement and loved to fish, it should have highlighted the new life he had planned. Ed wasn't wrapping up a career.He was about to embark on a Louisiana journey.

As I hit "send" on a story, I saw Zach strolling toward me.Since he usually only phoned in on Saturdays, his appearance surprised me. Sitting on the corner of my desk, he chitchatted about the next day's edition and picked up a paper clip, moving it back and forth between his fingers.

"I appreciated what you said at the funeral, Lois," he said, laying down the paper clip. "I really wish I'd known Ed better, like you did. You did a great job capturing his personality— made me wish I'd taken more time to know what made him tick."

Zach absently rummaged through my candy jar. "Moving around like I have these past few years," he said, "I just haven't gotten to know people deeply the way you knew Ed."

Embarrassed and feeling like I might cry again, I concentrated on my computer screen and deleted old e-mails to avoid eye contact.

"You know, Ed thought the world of you," Zach said. "Told me often how talented you are and how you'd be running your own paper one day. You know that, right?"

I sort of laughed, self-conscious and a little proud. "Oh, Ed liked me because we had worked together forever. He taught me so much."

"Well, I agree with Ed. I want to offer you his job—the managing editor's job." My eyes widened. I closed my computer screen and slowly rolled my chair back. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'd like you to be the next M.E. I've already run it by corporate and gotten their okay."

Rumors had swirled in the newsroom about who would take Ed's place, but this had been one game I'd not let myself get drawn into, mostly because I knew it would mean Ed was truly gone.

Part of me was excited at the idea of a promotion. The other part was annoyed that Zach's plans had been put into motion before he talked to me and that corporate had already signed off on my life.

"Well?" Zach said. "Is that a yes?"

I realized I hadn't given him an answer. I picked up my pencil and doodled on my ever-present reporter's notebook.The ambition in me fought with the fatigue and uncertainty these past weeks had unleashed. Ambition won.

"Thanks, Zach. That sounds great. Thanks. Sure. I'd love to be the M.E." I tried to sound enthusiastic.

"Fantastic!" He leaned over my desk to shake my hand. "I look forward to working more closely with you. I'll iron out the details with HR, and we'll tell the staff within the next week or so."

"Sounds good to me. Thanks again. I guess I'll head on home. I'm pretty tired." A great need to escape engulfed me.

My neat little condo with one puny pink geranium on the patio was about all I could handle at that moment. I walked straight to the bedroom and flopped down on my dark green comforter. I was too beat to think about how my life was about to change.

I briefly considered setting my alarm for church the next day, a habit I had long ago given up. I needed the inspiration, but I could not bring myself to do it.

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