Everyone Talks

9 - Our Lips are Sealed

When Nellie walked in that afternoon, the newsroom was pretty dead, which wasn't surprising. There were only three employees who really worked from here—the office manager, a reporter who was in and out all day, and Giselle, the editor. Sure, there were a few others—another reporter who worked from home and the part-time workers who came in a few days a week to help with deliveries. But even with everyone there, it wouldn't be what you called busy by any stretch of the word.

Granted, you wouldn't know that the paper operated on a basically skeleton crew from the smattering of desks filling the large open room, each holding an ancient Mac that Nellie was certain was older than she was. Everything was neat and clean, except for the desk belonging to Mara, the office manager. At 3:30 p.m., she was already gone for the day, leaving the aftermath of a tornado behind.

Yet, you wouldn't find anyone more organized than Mara- she could tell you an invoice number and what it was for without looking it up. Well, except for Giselle.

"Hey, kid."

Nellie smiled as she walked through the doorway leading from the lobby back into the newsroom. The walls were filled with dust-covered plaques and framed copies of Giselle's favorite photos from over the years, many of which were taken by Nellie's mother.

Giselle walked from the back, where there was a small staff kitchen, a dark room, and the back loading bay.

"Wasn't sure if you were comin' in," Giselle said, her arms open.

Nellie walked over and hugged her, her eyes falling on the small desk on the far side of the room. Behind it, a large whiteboard calendar was on the wall, nearly bursting with events, reminders, and interviews. If she blinked quickly, she could almost see her mother sitting behind it, the phone to her ear as she jotted down notes.

"Why?" Nellie stepped back and looked up at the older woman.

"Yer dad," Giselle snorted as she walked over to her desk.

Nellie rolled her eyes as she followed her over.

Giselle was Mimi's best friend. The two often met up for margaritas in the bar at the bowling alley. Sometimes, Giselle would go to Mimi's for wine. Nellie liked those nights. The two would tell story after story of their crazy high school and college days.

And it was a far cry from the stern person that Giselle was most of the time. She had one of those faces that could have children and even grown men cowering back. Everything about her face was sharp, from the tip of her nose to her dark brown eyes that didn't miss a thing. She even dressed sharp, a fitted white button-up tucked into her khaki cigarette pants, both pressed with nary a wrinkle in sight.

Giselle sat down, swiping a long piece of her mostly gray bob out of her face as she looked up at Nellie.

"Did he call you?"

"Nope. I think he's still terrified of me," Giselle said with a chuckle. Nellie found herself laughing right along. There wasn't much that scared her father, but she would believe that Giselle would. "Figured with all the news comin' out of the sheriff's department, he'd have ya on a tighter leash than usual."

"Technically, I was supposed to go home after school," Nellie admitted. Giselle frowned. "But I told him I was comin' in anyway."

Giselle rolled her eyes as she spun around to face her computer.

"I suppose I'll let ya hide behind me." She looked up at Nellie. "Again. Plus, the public records are in, and I sure as hell ain't gonna type 'em up."

Nellie smiled as she walked over to the desk next to Giselle's, her eyes drifting over to her mother's old desk again. Even though she knew no one used it, it was still in pristine condition with no dust. Like she would come in any second and plop down with a new article idea or the latest gripe from the local farmers.