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I called Mr. White. He deserved to know that these photos would be delayed. Since the weather was one of the few things I could not control on a flight, I hoped he would understand.
As it rang, I glanced around the lobby. Only the young man who had checked Mr. Delaney and me in was here, still behind the desk. That meant Mr. Delaney was probably napping. Or had decided to remain in his room after waking up. Either way, this meant my conversation wouldn’t be overheard by anyone except the clerk who was now boredly flipping through a skiing magazine.
“Hello? Grace? Have you landed in Corinth?”
The scratchy connection of a single bar of service caught my attention. At least Mr. White had picked up. I had worried he would be in a meeting.
“I have not. Winter storm blew through Colorado and grounded us in Dawn. In Colorado,” I explained. “But I’ll be in Corinth as soon as possible.”
There was a sound of frustration from the other end of the line. While I understood that this was not ideal, that didn’t mean it was right for Mr. White to take his frustrations out on me. I was frustrated, too. Didn’t see me taking it out on him. Then again… I had read a book that provided some catharsis, and that had definitely taken the edge of the worst of my frustrations.
White wasn’t much of a reader unless it was another newspaper to see what the competition was up to.
“Mr. White, need I remind you that this is my job?”
“Grace, I am counting on you to get those photos,” Mr. White said.
For just a moment, the call was a little clearer before dropping back to the staticky connection. Hopefully, the storm would give out soon enough.
“And I will get them.”
“Good. If you don’t, you’re fired. I’m sorry but that’s just how it’s got to be. I can’t have reporters who beg me for freedom and then spend company money for no results. You still have ‘til the end of the month, but any later than that, you’ll leave me no choice.”
With that, Mr. White hung up. There was a distinct ‘click,’ though I swore that the connection was close to giving out on us anyway. The storm didn’t appear to be going anywhere. This worried me. What would this mean for my job if we didn’t get to Corinth sooner than later?
And with only a few days to the end of the month, I sincerely worried that there was no way for me to keep my job without taking photos here in Dawn. What I had seen so far, outside of the snow, of course, had been beautiful. Maybe not Corinth-level beautiful, but maybe, as a backup plan, while we waited for the clearance to take off from the airport here, I’d take pictures around Dawn.
If nothing else worked, then I could say that circumstances had forced a change and that I had picked Dawn, Colorado, instead.
I didn’t know how Mr. White would feel about that, but I had to try to keep my job.
I glanced at the battery indicator on my phone, and then at the bars. While the battery was fine, due to turning it completely off in the airplane, I had no service. It really had been just a perfect chance to call while the storm lulled for a moment.
Too bad it hadn’t remained quiet out there.
Mr. Delaney emerged from the hallway, rubbing his eyes. I did my best to smile at him though my enthusiasm was certainly momentarily dampened. At least if we're stuck together here in Dawn, I might be able to learn more about why he had decided to become a pilot. That would at least be an interesting way to spend the time. When I was younger, I dreamed about trying to be a pilot. It never happened, but it still fascinated me greatly.
But first, I had to know if it was even safe to fly at all in this weather. I figured not, but I wanted to know what he was looking for to determine when we could fly again.
“I hope you had a good nap, Mr. Delaney,” I said.
He nodded slowly, rubbing his eyes.
“I didn’t think you’d still be awake,” he said quietly. “I thought travel tired you out.”
“I read a book. Now I’m too full of emotions to try and sleep.” I shrugged. “I suppose there’s nothing more for me to say about it, but that’s what I’ve been up to.”
Mr. Delaney sat down on one of the chairs that had been set out for guests to enjoy the scenery in. I sat down nearby, hoping that he wouldn’t think it odd that we were going to be together like this. At least we hadn’t been put in the same room like so often happened in movies or books.
“Have you flown in weather like this before?”
“Once, in the military,” he replied. “It’s not something I’d like to repeat. It’s not safe.”
“Why not? What exactly makes this weather worse than anything else?”
He frowned and gave an impatient little wave. “You can’t see through the snow. You can with rain, to a point,” Mr. Delaney replied gruffly. “Look, I understand you’re curious because you’ve developed that attitude of ‘must ask every question I can’ that reporters have, but I’m not in the mood. I’m still waking up, and I thought I told you I don’t like answering a lot of random questions.”
Now it was my turn to frown. I pursed my lips. What were the chances he would understand if I told him that I’d lose my job? Would he see why I asked at all? Or would he think it was a stupid reason to be asking all these questions because there was no way he was flying in this weather?
