“Men and women?” Natalie said, unable to stop herself.

A painful silence fell over the room, then Hal barked out a laugh. After a beat Bibb joined him.

“Very cute, Natalie,” Bibb said. “But this is serious. I call them elevator people and stairs people.”

“I see,” Natalie replied, aware that she was supposed to say something.

“You are a stairs person,” Bibb said.

“It’s because you’re such a go-getter. You’re so smart,” Hal said, smiling cheerily.

“And we need to see those qualities on display,” Bibb added.

Natalie had no idea how to respond and was grateful to be saved by Bibb’s intercom, which now buzzed with a call.

“We’ll keep working on this.” Bibb gave her gold stickpin an adjustment, then turned and headed to the other side of her elephant-footed desk. The intercom buzzed again. Bibb took a deep breath and, picking up the phone, said with exaggerated drama, “Andrea, tell me you’ve got a location. You...what? Oh. Oh my... I am sorry. I knew your father was ill but I had no idea...hospice. I see. You poor thing.” She covered the mouthpiece with her hand and hissed at Hal, “It’s Andrea, with Ryan. Her father is dying.” Bibb’s expression was filled with alarm. Hand still covering the mouthpiece, she scowled. “I mean, really. Is she going to leave us hanging now? The timing couldn’t be worse.”

Hal returned her frown. “Just explain that to her. She’ll understand.”

“People are so difficult,” Bibb sighed, then took her hand from the phone and said, “Of course you need to be with your father, Andrea. You need to do what is right for him. But don’t forget, the question is also, what is right for you?”

Natalie felt like she was having a flashback, hearing echoes from less than two years earlier, her father fading quickly.

“After all the work you’ve put in, it would be a shame if your career went off the rails right now,” her boss on the Daybreak desk had said, all sympathy. “But it’s your call. Do what’s best for you. Just let us know what you decide by 5 p.m. please.”

She’d told herself her dad would wait for her. She was covering a major hurricane and she knew that of all people, he’d get it. After all, he’d missed her sixteenth birthday and her graduation, all the while insisting she had to understand because he was pursuing a whistleblower with cold feet.

“Dad, I just have to be reliable, do what they need,” she’d told him over the phone. “But I’ll be there as soon as I can.”