Read Online Yankee Doodle Dixie by Lisa Patton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lisa Patton
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WZCQ for my interview, oh my goodness five minutes late, and I feel a mixture of excitement and anxiety. After checking in with Jane, the receptionist who I had met earlier when I dropped off my résumé, I take a seat on one of the outdated couches in the lobby. A man wearing dark makeup walks by and says hello with a deep, familiar voice. It’s Stuart Southard, the weatherman on channel 12. A regular Memphis celebrity. I get a little warm in the cheeks and involuntarily smile; I can’t help but be a wee bit starstruck.
“Ms. Satterfield?” Jane says, after I’ve been seated for ten minutes or so. “You can go back now. Straight down the hall to the left and you’ll run right into the FM 99 offices. Good luck!” If the size of her smile could determine my chances of getting the job, I’d be a shoo-in.
“Thank you.” I grab my purse and the folder containing an extra copy of my résumé, hot off the presses, and head down the hall, my mind ablaze. I’m already fretting about how much this job might pay, combined with doubts about my alimony arrangement with Baker. I’m still not so sure I made a good decision, opting for a quick solution with less compensation rather than a long, painful negotiation with a bigger settlement. If Daddy were alive, he would have made sure I hired the finest lawyer in town and had run Baker across county lines. Since that wasn’t the case, I’m living with the fact that I have to be away from Sarah and Issie all day long because of money.
As I’m wandering around shyly, not knowing where I’m headed, a rather cute-looking guy stops me. “Can I help you?” he asks.
“Yes, thank you. I’m here to see Edward Maxwell. I have an interview at one.” I glance at my watch and see it’s one fifteen. “Actually, I’ve been waiting in the lobby for a while. I was here right at a couple minutes past.”
He shrugs his shoulders before a well-rehearsed smile spreads across his face. “Hi, I’m Paul.” I’d know his voice anywhere. He’s the afternoon deejay at FM 99.
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“I’ll get Edward for you.” He disappears down another hall and leaves me standing in a small area with a coffeemaker and fridge. It’s not really a break room; it seems to be more of a reception area. I sit down on one of the chairs with a black plastic seat and steel frame and glance around the room. The walls are lined with gold and platinum records stacked on top of each other and running all the way down the hall. I recognize Bon Jovi’s gorgeous face from across the room and can’t resist the urge to walk over and inspect it.
Presented to WZCQ FM 99 to Commemorate RIAA Certified Sales of More Than 500,000 Copies of the Mercury Records Album Slippery When Wet .
Each plaque says the same thing but with a different artist and record. Bonnie Raitt’s Nick of Time, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ Full Moon Fever, Don Henley’s The End of the Innocence, Kim Carnes’s Mistaken Identity, Bette Midler’s Beaches . Mariah Carey’s Mariah Carey —they all bring back a flurry of memories and without realizing it, I’ve traveled quite a ways down the hall inspecting them. The sound of a man’s voice startles me away from thoughts of the past.
“Miss Satterfield?”
I whip my head around.
“Hi. Edward Maxwell.” He smiles, sort of, and keeps his hands at his side.
Smiling back, I instinctively offer mine. “Hi Edward. Nice to meet you.”
After a weak shake he says, “Come on back,” and turns down another hall, which is lined with even more gold records and award plaques. Edward doesn’t walk alongside me; instead he’s keeping pace in front. We pass a large window that lends a full view of the broadcast room and as I stroll down the hall of a radio station that has been around since the forties, I’m struck by how rich the music scene truly is in Memphis, Tennessee. I suppose, having grown up here, I’ve taken it for granted all these years. Beale
“Ms. Satterfield?” Jane says, after I’ve been seated for ten minutes or so. “You can go back now. Straight down the hall to the left and you’ll run right into the FM 99 offices. Good luck!” If the size of her smile could determine my chances of getting the job, I’d be a shoo-in.
“Thank you.” I grab my purse and the folder containing an extra copy of my résumé, hot off the presses, and head down the hall, my mind ablaze. I’m already fretting about how much this job might pay, combined with doubts about my alimony arrangement with Baker. I’m still not so sure I made a good decision, opting for a quick solution with less compensation rather than a long, painful negotiation with a bigger settlement. If Daddy were alive, he would have made sure I hired the finest lawyer in town and had run Baker across county lines. Since that wasn’t the case, I’m living with the fact that I have to be away from Sarah and Issie all day long because of money.
As I’m wandering around shyly, not knowing where I’m headed, a rather cute-looking guy stops me. “Can I help you?” he asks.
“Yes, thank you. I’m here to see Edward Maxwell. I have an interview at one.” I glance at my watch and see it’s one fifteen. “Actually, I’ve been waiting in the lobby for a while. I was here right at a couple minutes past.”
He shrugs his shoulders before a well-rehearsed smile spreads across his face. “Hi, I’m Paul.” I’d know his voice anywhere. He’s the afternoon deejay at FM 99.
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“I’ll get Edward for you.” He disappears down another hall and leaves me standing in a small area with a coffeemaker and fridge. It’s not really a break room; it seems to be more of a reception area. I sit down on one of the chairs with a black plastic seat and steel frame and glance around the room. The walls are lined with gold and platinum records stacked on top of each other and running all the way down the hall. I recognize Bon Jovi’s gorgeous face from across the room and can’t resist the urge to walk over and inspect it.
Presented to WZCQ FM 99 to Commemorate RIAA Certified Sales of More Than 500,000 Copies of the Mercury Records Album Slippery When Wet .
Each plaque says the same thing but with a different artist and record. Bonnie Raitt’s Nick of Time, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ Full Moon Fever, Don Henley’s The End of the Innocence, Kim Carnes’s Mistaken Identity, Bette Midler’s Beaches . Mariah Carey’s Mariah Carey —they all bring back a flurry of memories and without realizing it, I’ve traveled quite a ways down the hall inspecting them. The sound of a man’s voice startles me away from thoughts of the past.
“Miss Satterfield?”
I whip my head around.
“Hi. Edward Maxwell.” He smiles, sort of, and keeps his hands at his side.
Smiling back, I instinctively offer mine. “Hi Edward. Nice to meet you.”
After a weak shake he says, “Come on back,” and turns down another hall, which is lined with even more gold records and award plaques. Edward doesn’t walk alongside me; instead he’s keeping pace in front. We pass a large window that lends a full view of the broadcast room and as I stroll down the hall of a radio station that has been around since the forties, I’m struck by how rich the music scene truly is in Memphis, Tennessee. I suppose, having grown up here, I’ve taken it for granted all these years. Beale
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