So far, the leadership of Three Roads Baptist Church seemed to like the ideas Barbara and the architects had for the sanctuary their congregation had voted to build. Paul and Martin Nelson, the brothers who owned the architectural firm, were pros at presenting plans, and they always left Barbara awestruck and inspired. It was a tough act to follow, but she’d learned long ago that it was the dressing on those plans that closed the sale. And that was her job.
The church leaders had been properly fed and seemed entertained as they listened to Paul and Martin’s proposals. Barbara prayed silently that, in spite of what had happened with Emily’s car that morning, she could focus on her part of the presentation.
She took her cue and went to the front of the conference room. “Well, ladies and gentlemen, now that you’ve seen the plan, you might be wondering about the finer points. So I’ve done some renderings here to show you what we’re thinking. I have to tell you that designing a beautiful, glorious sanctuary like this, one that honors God and aids in worship, is the highlight of my career.”
She pulled out the design board with all the fabrics, carpet samples, paint swatches, and furnishings, right down to the stained glass windows she hoped to commission for them. As she went through the renderings of what their church would look like, she gauged their reactions. They seemed captivated.
When the presentation was over, Barbara stayed to answer questions and allow the clients to touch the fabrics and offer input about the colors. By the time they left, she felt pretty sure that her firm would get this account. Paul attended the church, so he had inside knowledge of their needs. The other architects bidding on the job didn’t have that edge.
“Great job, Barbara,” Martin said as they gathered up their things. “You answered their questions beautifully. I liked how you emphasized that they would have plenty of input in choosing the interiors. I think we’ve got it in the bag.”
“I hope so. Sorry again that I wasn’t here for the meeting this morning, but it all worked out.”
“Yeah. Hope everything is all right with Emily’s car.”
Now she hurried back to her office to see if she’d gotten a call from the police or her daughter. She had left her cell phone in her purse at her desk. A quick check revealed that Emily had called. She hadn’t left a message.
Barbara picked up the phone and called her back. It rang three times before Emily answered.
“Hello?”
“Emily, I’m out of the presentation. Have you heard anything from the police?”
“No, not yet.” Emily sounded distant, distracted.
“How did your test go?”
There was a long pause. “Um . . . I didn’t take it yet.”
“Why not? I thought it was at noon.”
“I asked him if I could take it later. I was a little distracted by all this.”
“And he said yes?”
Emily hesitated again. “I haven’t heard back from him yet.”
Barbara sank into her chair. “Honey, you just didn’t show up? What if he doesn’t give you another chance?”
“He will. He has to.”
Barbara closed her eyes. “Look, I was distracted, too, but I did what I had to do. Emily, this is important!”
“I know, Mom!” she said. “Don’t you think I know that?”
Emily was getting emotional. Barbara decided to back off. “Okay, just . . . call him again if you don’t hear from him. Meanwhile, I’m going to call the insurance company and place a claim. Do you have the police report?”
Again, a hesitation. “Yes, but I can’t bring it to you right now.”
“Is there somewhere you could fax it to me?”
“No. I’m kind of tied up right now.”
Barbara sighed. “Emily, I’m going to need that. Hopefully, they’ll pay for a rental car so we won’t have to keep sharing a car.”
“I’ll bring it when I can, Mom.”
She sighed. “All right. Can you text me the number on the police report?”
“What number?”
“There’s an incident number. It’s probably at the top somewhere. Can you look?”
“Not right now. It’s in my backpack, and I can’t get to it. Mom, I have to go. I’ll text it when I can.”
“Hurry. I have to contact the insurance company.”
“Okay, as soon as I can. ’Bye.”
Emily hung up, and Barbara sat holding her cell phone, fighting the frustration rippling through her. Those old fears rose up in her again. Emily had sounded evasive, as she always had during her drug days.
But things had changed. This was not the old, drug-dazed Emily. She was different now. She just had a lot on her mind, she told herself, and she probably had a class to get to. Barbara clicked her phone off and put it back in her purse. She would just have to wait for that text.