All the Difference

I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. 

From “The Road Not Taken” By Robert Frost 

Friday, May 23 

CHAPTER 1 

Tossing the script onto her desk, Dave told Laura, “Here, read this,” as he sped past. “The teleprompter is set, Sunshine. We go live in two.” 

“Thanks, Dave,” Laura said, not adding “you jerk,” although she wanted to. She hated Dave Robinson, producer for WCOL-TV5, and didn’t care that the feeling was mutual. Laura Mercer didn’t care about much except ratings, beating the local competition to a story, and looking like big-city-market material. Laura knew she was the latter. She looked like the girl next door and sexy at the same time. That’s what her adoring fans kept writing since she had leapt onto the screen in Columbus four years earlier. She was promoted from reporter to anchor of the noon and early evening news two years later. Already her name was a household word. Especially in households with male viewers. 

Laura knew she was considered a draw at charity events. She agreed to lunches with local power brokers and marketing folks. Accessible, beautiful. And she was always perfecting her presence. Changing the tone of her voice, practicing inflections, tilting her head just a little farther left, or simply picking up a new adjective to drop into idle anchor babble. Laura was learning, absorbing, and mimicking everyone at the station. When the general manager asked her to do the news bulletin cut-in, she felt it was her big chance. Maybe this could lead to a network feed or even CNN Headline News pickup? 

Eschewing a read-through for further primping time, Laura arrived in the studio with twenty-two seconds to spare, Dave’s script in hand. Clipping on her microphone, she smiled at the cameraman, Rob. Soon, the cameras would be automated robots, but until then, she needed Rob to like her. Glancing up at the booth where Dave sat hunched over the control panel, Laura sneered—but it could have just been a squint because of the lights. 

“Ready and three, two, one, music...” 

“We interrupt our regular programming to bring you a special news bulletin from WCOL-TV5,” the station announcer’s voice boomed. 

Suddenly, Laura’s face popped into the middle of one of the station’s highest-rated shows, prompting hundreds of calls from angry show addicts. Laura’s hair was perfect— she was the brunette Breck girl. Her squeaky-clean image had boosted the number-three station in town to a tie with the perennial number-one. The soft orange and yellow backdrop complemented her skin tones. Set approval was part of her contract by now, and she exercised it. 

“This is Laura Mercer, News Channel 5, with a special bulletin,” she read from the teleprompter. “An hour ago, an explosion from unidentified causes ripped through a large home in Field City, five miles northwest of Grandville. Sources on the scene tell News 5 

the two adult victims were airlifted to an area hospital in critical condition. We will have more about this story as information becomes available, and, of course, tonight on the eleven o’clock news. This is Laura Mercer. We now return to regular programming.” 

“And, we’re out. Nice job, people.” Dave’s voice boomed from the control booth above the studio. Hoping to cover the story first, and thus smack an early, crippling home run useful for self-promotion for months to follow, he had obviously decided to break into programming with a news bulletin containing little news. It was May, sweeps week, a critical time to lure viewers to the station. It wouldn’t matter to him how stupid Laura would look, interrupting a program to give no news.