I’d deleted the voice mails she’d left. I’d listened to the last message four times through tears before erasing it. In a lot of ways, it felt like I was growing up, taking control, and asking for the things that I needed. While I was proud of myself in some ways, I also hated the way I’d handled it. I owed her a call, and that knowledge hung over me like a bad headache.
I knew one thing for sure. I was operating at a loss.
Caroline McNamara was a force who’d burst into my life and changed me forever. So maybe I’d never truly get over her. While a crippling thought, it was a possibility I would have to learn to live with.
Chapter Nineteen
Fuck my life. We were six minutes from going live at five, and they’d just swapped the order of my first three stories, tossing one to Rory and leaving me with the leadoff. It was fine, just another last-minute shuffle to organize. I hated those. I studied the electronic tablet in front of me to get my bearings. Four stories in, we’d toss it to Tammy live in the field for a stand-up about the crumbling overpass along the highway and the dangers it posed to cars passing by. But the weather was dicey, and they were having communication troubles with the live truck, so they’d asked me to be flexible if we couldn’t get Tammy up. Yet another possible swerve ahead.
“Okay, got it,” I told Kristin. “So if we don’t have Tammy, we’ll pivot to the lottery winner?”
“Exactly. Then that will bump us to sports. Cue Kip with the new pro hockey team rumor.”
I nodded, organizing my brain as I went, hoping it got easier with time. Two minutes. I gave my hair a slight toss and relaxed my facial muscles, opening and closing my jaw.
And we were off.
The broadcast started off without a hitch, a short greeting and a toss to our lead story, a shooting across town just hours before. Rory fielded the next segment, and when it came back to me for the live shot, I was immediately told by the control room to pivot. No Tammy. Just as promised, I turned to Kip in sports as the energy in the room shifted noticeably. People who were normally focused on our group task now exchanged looks and whispered in each other’s ears. I wondered what had gone wrong but worked to stay focused on my role. Had I done something? Said the wrong thing? Had someone else?
“We’ll be right back,” Kip said with a smile after wrapping sports.
I exhaled and looked immediately to Devante for answers. He was busy, speaking animatedly into his headset on the studio floor. I raised my hand to him. He shoved his headset to the side to address me. “Hey. The live truck couldn’t get a signal up and we’re working to understand why. Nothing to worry about.”
I turned to Rory as Devante walked away from the news desk. This felt like more than a live shot failure. “Is it just me, or are they being weird? I feel like there’s a bomb threat or something at hand.”
He took in the room, happy-go-lucky Rory as always. “Just you, I think.”
No. The room became eerily still after that. I wasn’t a fool. But the commotion went away just as quickly as it had fluttered in. The on-air team maneuvered our way through the next seventeen minutes of the broadcast, said our good-byes, and were given the all clear by the studio stage manager.
“Okay, that one felt off,” I said to Devante, who graciously handed me a bottle of water as I came off set. “For some reason, I was in my head and super cognizant of what was going on in studio. It was weird.”
He nodded but hadn’t really said anything. He seemed to be standing with me, holding me there for some reason, though. Then that reason presented itself.
Kristin took my hand. “You were great. Let’s walk.”
“Uh-oh.” My stomach dropped. I recreated the past thirty minutes and went over my performance for any kind of misstep, but came up short. “Did I screw up somehow?”
Kristin stopped once we’d reached her office and shut the door behind us. She swallowed, not looking at all like herself. Something had rattled her. “Nothing like that. I have unfortunate news. The kind no one wants to hear.”
“Oh.” My body went numb. “Okay.”
“It was the live shot. Tammy was positioned for her stand-up well off the highway in a grassy area, using the overpass as a backdrop. The rain kicked up.”
I nodded, trying to skip ahead and see what was coming.
“A car skidded on the slick pavement.”
“Oh no.” It was the unthinkable. Reporting in the field was always a risk, and you heard about accidents happening all the time. The idea that it easily could have been me was not far from my brain. “She was hit? Is she okay?”
“She was. Cuts and bruises. Her left leg was injured pretty badly, and she was transported.”
I placed a hand over my heart. “Thank God. Do you know how lucky she is? It really could have been so much worse.” I exhaled slowly, relieved.
“But Skyler, It’s Ty. He took the brunt of the impact and was airlifted.” She shook her head. “I just want to prepare you. It sounds bad.”
Ty? No. I blinked at her, willing the words away. “Are you sure it was him?” She nodded. “How bad?”
She sent me a sympathetic look. “That’s all I know for now.”
The walls were advancing on me. My fingernails dug painfully into my palms. Words were spinning in my head but not making their way out of my mouth. I’d never felt more helpless in my life. I held out my hand to Kristin to signal as much. She watched me in concern.
“Just take a breath. You’re okay,” she said.
But I felt nauseous. My stomach had always been nervous, and it proved itself once again as I barely made it to the restroom down the hall before throwing up. It felt like the world was in motion even though my vision was clear.
Not my friend.
I grabbed Kristin’s arm. She’d followed me to the bathroom and we stood at the sink. “Sandra.”
“She’s on her way to the hospital. We called her.”
I gripped the edge of the marble countertop and squeezed. “All while I was on air.” During that short span of time when I was doing my damnedest to smile, but not too much, keep my transitions relevant and seamless, and make sure I was forming a connection with the viewer, my friend was hurt.
Kristin nodded. “It’s one of those freak accidents you hear about from some station you’d never heard of. Not your own.”
“Yeah, but what do I do?” I asked, walking aimlessly through the small space. I wasn’t even sure where to put my hands. This level of idleness was maddening. “Should I go to the hospital? His family is probably gathering there, and I don’t want to be in the way. But I’m not sure where else to be.”