“I think so.” Joanne’s hand brushed along the skirt of her silver-blue dress. “Where are we going?”
Benjamin grinned at the curious expression on her face. “It’s a surprise.”
“Am I dressed okay?”
His gaze drifted down the soft suede fabric that followed her slender form to the top of her knees. She’d cinched a thin woven belt at the waist and topped the dress with a matching jacket that touched her rounded hips. He’d never seen anyone so lovely. “Perfect,” he said, unable to pull his gaze from her amber hair curving in soft waves along her face.
She smiled at him with eyes the color of her attire, an amazing sky blue that stirred his longing.
“If you’re sure,” she said.
“I’m positive.”
When Joanne pulled her coat from the closet, Benjamin took it from her and held it out as she slipped in her arms. She gave him another puzzled glance over her shoulder, but he only smiled, anxious to surprise her.
Once they were in the car and the motor kicked in, warm air rose from the heater. He’d longed to ask her about the calls, but he hadn’t, afraid he’d rile her again. She’d been quiet, and he’d wondered if that meant the calls had ended.
Benjamin could feel Joanne’s gaze on his face, and he glanced at her. She looked expectant, as if waiting for him to say something.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Just wondering where we’re headed.”
“To downtown Detroit.”
She lifted an eyebrow and asked no more. He guessed she’d figured out that he wasn’t talking. Joanne eased back against the seat and gazed out the window.
Maybe he was being silly not telling her, but he knew she would love the evening and he’d hoped it would relieve the stress she’d been under.
“You’re quiet. What’s up?” He sensed she had something on her mind.
“Nothing much. I’m trying to keep the problems at bay. I’m thinking Christmas thoughts,” she said.
He slid his hand across the empty space and touched her arm. “You’re worried?”
She nodded. “I haven’t heard anything since—” She faltered. “I don’t know. It’s been a while. I don’t know what to think.”
If the woman had stopped calling, Joanne would soon realize it had been a hoax. “Be patient. God’s in charge, Joanne. I know that’s difficult to remember. We all want things to happen on our time, but that’s not how it always is.”
She looked at him as if she understood but didn’t like the situation.
He let his hand slide over hers. Her skin felt soft and warm to his touch, and he brushed his fingers along hers, enjoying the sensation and the closeness.
Joanne’s hand shifted, and she rolled it beneath his so the palm was up, then wove her fingers through his. Her action settled in his gut and stirred his longing to take her in his arms. He’d kissed her only once. Tonight he yearned to kiss her again.
He drove with one hand on the wheel until he had to turn the car onto Woodward. The loss of her hand against his left him feeling lonely, and Benjamin realized his life was tangled with Joanne’s more tightly than their fingers had been.
When the building came into view, he pulled into the right lane, then turned into the parking lot. Joanne craned her neck to read the sign.
“Detroit Symphony Orchestra Hall?” She eyed him as he followed the parking attendant’s instructions. “Is that where we’re going?”
“You’ve always talked about this, and I thought it would be fun.”
“The Nutcracker.” She shook her head as she gazed at him. “That’s the nicest gift in the world. You know I love this ballet. I can’t believe you’re willing to sit through it for me.”
“I like the music.” He grinned at her astonishment. “I can handle the dancing, too, I think.”
He pulled into the designated parking spot and turned off the engine. Before he opened the door, Joanne leaned over and captured his face in her hands. Her eyes searched his, then she gave him a gentle kiss. His heart skipped at the touch and the emotion startled him—embarrassed him, really. How could a grown man be so overwhelmed by a woman’s brief caress?
Joanne had been surprised by her own forwardness, but she’d enjoyed it, and it had taken her mind off what she’d almost done—she’d almost mentioned the recent call from the woman.
Forcing the worry from her mind she gazed ahead at their destination. When they reached the sidewalk, she watched the downtown traffic zip past—horns honking, motors revving, tires screeching—until the light changed to red. Benjamin took her arm as they crossed Woodward Avenue. Orchestra Hall stood close to the sidewalk, a magnificent edifice in an unlikely part of town.
The crowd shoved inside to escape the cold, and as she and Benjamin stepped into the warmth, the usher steered them to the right and midway down the main floor seating.
Joanne felt Benjamin’s hand against her arm, and she was filled with pleasure. When they were seated, she opened the program, then glanced at him. “You’re amazing.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Thank you so much for doing this.”
“It’s for me, too,” he said.
His look swept over her, making her limbs feel like jelly. She’d grown too close to him, was too captivated by his attention and his manners. But though they’d kissed, she feared their relationship, formed as a deep friendship, could never change. Greg would always stand between them.
The hall lights dimmed and the orchestra opened with the great Tchaikovsky Overture. As the familiar melodies rippled through her—”Waltz of the Flowers,” “Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies,” “March of the Toy Soldiers”—her mind shifted to Mandy.
Mandy would have turned six a couple of months ago, and Joanne knew she would have brought her daughter to see this wonderful program that captured the playful view of Christmas. Next she would have taken Mandy to see the Rockette’s Christmas program that depicted the nativity story with live animals. A child needed both at Christmas—the magic and the truth. Nothing could outshine Christ’s birth.
Joanne realized her mind had taken a dour turn. It had slipped back to the time she’d finally accepted that Mandy had died in the icy waters. Her hope had begun to fade after she hadn’t heard anything more from the woman caller. Three days had passed. Joanne had been certain the caller would have done something by now to prove Mandy was living. The woman had sounded so sincere and so desperate. Joanne wondered if her demand had frightened her away.
What had she expected the caller to produce? What kind of proof would make her certain? Joanne only knew that her mother’s heart had not been the same for the past two months. Something had settled there, whether intuition or premonition. It had been something unreal, yet tangible. Something bizarre, yet so believable she couldn’t let it go.
Pulling her thoughts back to the orchestra and the stage, Joanne focused on the colorful dancers, the toy-soldier mice who marched across the stage. Though the bright melodies filled her head, sadness settled on her heart.
When her sigh escaped, she caught Benjamin’s worried look. He shifted and placed his hand on hers. The warmth rushed through her, and his touch reminded her of their conversation. She bowed her head and prayed. If ever she needed God, it was now.
“Happy birthday, dear Connie. Happy birthday to you.” Donna’s lone voice sang the little song as Connie grinned at her above her cake. “Make a wish, sweetie.”
Connie lowered her head, then puffed out her cheeks and blew out the six candles. “Will it come true?”
“I hope so.” Donna hoped for so much these past weeks, but the rays of hope seemed to be dimming.
“Can I tell you my wish?” Connie whispered, although she didn’t need to because they were alone.
“It’s supposed to be your secret,” Donna said, grinning at the child’s eager face.
“It can be our secret.”
“Okay, tell me,” Donna said, knowing no matter what the child wished for, it would probably not come true.
“I wished we could go away forever. Just you and me.”
Donna’s heart lurched. She bent down and nestled the child’s head against her chest, then kissed her soft hair. “I wish the same.”
But Donna’s hopes were fading. She’d tried to get the courage to call Joanne Fuller back the evening after she’d followed her after work, but fear had stopped her—fear of Carl’s wrath and fear of being caught by the police. She could never allow Carl to be alone with Connie. His hatred had grown in the past month to the point of psychosis.
Donna had done everything to keep her whereabouts secret. She’d blocked calls and phoned from telephone booths, even changing location with each call. But getting away seemed more and more impossible.
Still, waiting for Donna to call again would give Joanne Fuller time to find the photo and accept the truth that her daughter was alive, and then come up with the money.
Donna had always phoned after Joanne arrived home from work, but calling during the day seemed easier while Connie was in school. Until recently Donna hadn’t known where Joanne worked, but now that she did, calling her at work, where the lines weren’t tapped, might be wise, and getting away during the day would be easier.
The new idea gave her hope. Today was Saturday. Sunday wouldn’t work, but Monday would. She smiled at the thought of her plan. When she glanced at Connie, the child’s face looked puzzled.
“I bet you’re waiting for your present,” Donna said.
“Do we have to wait for—?”
“No, let’s open it now.”
Connie hugged her around the neck, and Donna fought the tears that rose in her eyes.
Joanne pulled into the driveway and turned off her car. Worship had felt lonely without Benjamin at her side. He’d been exhausted from his busy week and worrying about her, she knew, and last night after their wonderful evening at The Nutcracker, he’d complained of a sore throat. She had insisted he stay home and get some rest.
The lesson for the day stayed with her. God knew what she needed to hear, and perhaps it was best she was alone. When the pastor began 1 Corinthians 13:1, Joanne knew she had to listen, because the message of love had been clinging to her thoughts since her mother had called. “If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.”
She’d been a clanging cymbal, she feared. She thought about the cold treatment she’d given her mother. Joanne realized she had closed the door to healing just as Benjamin had said. By the time the pastor had gotten to the eleventh verse, the truth hit home. “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.”
Joanne had been unable to give up childish things. She knew her family. She knew their ways, so why had she allowed their behavior to pull her from what she knew was right? Jesus said to turn the other cheek. She’d followed the Old Testament—an eye for an eye.
Joanne looked up at the winter sun streaming down from the sky and melting the hard mounds of snow. Her heart had experienced the same with the warmth of God’s Word.
She unlocked the front door and pushed it open, feeling the rush of heat from inside, but it was no stronger than the heat she felt from her resolution. Healing needed time, but she would begin today. Benjamin had roused her thoughts and she didn’t want to disappoint him.
She hung up her coat and headed straight for the kitchen. After having a bite to eat, she resolved, she would call her parents—but as she came through the doorway she saw the light blinking on her answering machine.
She checked the caller ID and smiled. Benjamin. She pressed the button.
“Hi, I’ll be over shortly,” he said.
She heard him fumble for a second.
“It’s ten-thirty, and you should be home soon. I’ll be bringing fresh bagels!”
Joanne grinned as she deleted the message, but refused to be swayed from her decision. She put on some coffee, then called her parents. Talking to them was a struggle, but she mentally reviewed the verses she’d heard in church and prayed she had left her clanging-cymbal days behind her.
The adult Joanne put her childish ways aside as she spoke and shared the problems she’d been facing.
“Oh, no,” her mother said. “Who would do that?”
“I don’t know, Mom, but the police are on it.” Were they?
“Do you need me?”
How often she’d needed her mother, but not today. She had the authorities and she had Benjamin. “I’m fine, really,” she said, allowing the truth to set in. She had God on her side and He was her greatest ally.
“I’d be happy to come,” her mother said.
“No. Really. I’m fine.”
The doorbell rang, and she ended her call, feeling she’d made some progress. At least she’d been honest with her mother, and she had heard a sincere reaction to news of her recent trials.
Benjamin stood on the porch with a grin on his face and a bag of bagels in his hand. As Joanne opened the door he breathed in the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. He gazed at her and noticed a brighter look on her face.
“You look smiley today,” he said.
“I feel good. Great sermon. Too bad you missed it.”
His grin widened. “Did I need to hear it?” He stepped inside and headed for the kitchen.
She shook her head. “No, I did.”
He chuckled as he sat the bag on the table. He put out the cream cheese with chives as Joanne got plates and knives and poured the coffee.
“What’s up? No calls? E-mails?”
“None.” She looked away, then turned back. “I called my mom.”
“Really.”
“You got me thinking.”
Her gaze drifted away from him. He missed looking into her eyes.
“About my hard-heartedness,” she said.
“I didn’t mean to confront you.”
“No. I needed to hear it.” She lifted the knife and scooped up some cream cheese. “The sermon focused on the same thing. I knew it was something I had to do.” She shifted toward him. “I’ve looked at this totally from my point of view, not theirs. I’ve always known my family was a little self-centered. I have been, too, I suppose.”
He’d never seen Joanne act self-centered, but maybe he was prejudiced. “So what happened with the call?”
“I decided to tell her about the things going on here. That way she’d understand why I decided not to visit for Christmas.”
“And?” He lifted a bagel, then paused. “What did she say?”
“She wanted to come here. I told her no.”
That confused him. “Why did you do that?”
“I figured it would save embarrassment. If I encouraged her to come, she’d have to find an excuse why she couldn’t make it. This way it saves her the trouble.”
Benjamin felt his jaw sag. “You really feel that way?”
Joanne shrugged. “If she came, what could she do? The police haven’t done anything.”
“I’m confused. I don’t know what I think.”
“Joanne, let’s not argue. You’re exhausted. Too much has happened and you’re overwhelmed. I’m a mess. Let’s try to keep our spirits up.” He slid his hand across the table and grasped her free hand. “Will you pray with me?”
Her eyes glazed with tears. “Please, Benjamin.”
She bowed her head while Benjamin took their concerns to the Lord.
“Where did you go Saturday night?” Nita propped her hip against Joanne’s desk. “I’m telling you, Benjamin is so romantic. I don’t care what you say.”
Joanne had grown tired of denying her feelings, and today she spoke her heart without a qualm. “He is, but I don’t think he knows it.”
Nita snorted a laugh. “You don’t think he knows it? How can that be?”
“I truly believe he’s being a friend.”
Nita leaned closer. “What about you?”
Joanne shook her head at Nita’s persistence. “I admit—it used to be just friendship, but now I’m really crazy about him.”
“Finally!” Nita’s face glowed.
“I can’t fight city hall.”
“Or your heart.” Nita gave her a hug. “I’m thrilled for you. I really am. You’ve been a faithful wife to Greg, but the marriage vows say ‘as long as you both shall live.’ It’s time to let go, Joanne.”
“I think I have, Nita, but I’m not sure about him.”
“Can’t you ask him? Just tell him how you feel.”
Joanne’s pulse fluttered at the idea. “I don’t think I can. Pride or fear. I don’t want to lose his friendship. It’s too precious to me. We’ve been so careful, but things are starting to change naturally. I think I’ll just pray God opens the door.”
“You can’t go wrong with that.” Then she laughed. “And if Benjamin tries to lock the door, maybe you can give him a little help. You know.”
Joanne chuckled at her friend’s eagerness for her to find love. “You’re a dear friend.”
As the words left her mouth, the telephone rang. Joanne lifted her index finger to halt the conversation and grabbed the receiver. “Solutions. Joanne Fuller speaking.”
“Do we have a deal?”
The hushed voice wheeled over her like a steamroller. Her heart skipped, and her eyes shifted toward Nita. She couldn’t let on. “One moment, please.” She covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “This will take a while.”
“I’ll talk to you later,” Nita said with a nod.
Once Nita left the room, Joanne pulled her hand from the mouthpiece. “What deal?” she asked, praying the woman hadn’t hung up. “I asked for proof. I haven’t seen any.”
“What photo?”
“The photograph I put in your shopping bag.”
The woman’s breathing sounded labored, and her voice trembled. Joanne feared she wouldn’t stay on the line long. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“At the café at the mall. I slipped a photo of your daughter into your shopping bag.”
Joanne’s chest burned as each breath left her. “I didn’t find it. I’m sorry.”
As she opened her mouth to ask more, the telephone clicked, then disconnected.
Tears pooled in Joanne’s eyes. Her last visit to the mall dashed through her thoughts. Was it the woman with the keys? Joanne had left her packages and had been distracted only for a moment. How had she missed seeing someone near her bags? She tried to recapture the face of the woman—harried, Joanne remembered, and with eyes that had watched her from the other side of the mall.
Could it be?
She tensed as she thought of the packages tucked in her closet, waiting to be wrapped. Every time the woman called, Joanne heard greater desperation in her voice. And now she might have scared the caller off with the delay.
Joanne placed her hand on the telephone, longing to call Benjamin, but she stopped herself. She couldn’t. He’d stop her if he knew. Loneliness surrounded her. Her hand twitched as she pulled it away and turned to the computer. Instead, she’d write him an e-mail about nothing, so she could feel connected to him without his seeing her face. Benjamin always knew when something had gone wrong.
She clicked on the e-mail icon, and her mail opened. Glaring back at her was Shadow@123go.com. She gaped at the message.
YOU’RE ABOUT TO LOSE WHAT YOU WANT.
YOU’RE GETTING CARELESS.
The words raked over her. Lose what you want. Her daughter was what she wanted.
She hit the print icon, then deleted the e-mail. Her chest ached with desperation.
Dear Lord, please, don’t let it be too late. If Mandy is alive, Father, lead me to her. Give me the strength I need, and forgive me for my doubts.
Her amen whispered through her mind and into her heart.