Joanne sat in the recliner, her feet raised and her Bible on her lap. She’d been uplifted by the morning’s worship service, and the pastor’s words continued to ring in her ears.
After church, she’d carried her Bible to the chair and opened it to Mark 11:22 without taking off her Sunday clothes. The Scripture she’d needed had been the focus of the service. She was often amazed at how God worked His wonders.
“That’s why He’s God,” she said aloud as she flipped through the pages of her Bible. Her eyes sought the Scripture again; she knew she needed to hear it and live it. She read through the passage, pausing over the last sentence. “Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.”
Whatever you ask for in prayer will be yours. The words caressed her heart. This was God’s promise, and Joanne had prayed for Mandy’s safe return. The certainty filled her with hope.
Each time she looked at the Christmas tree, her hope grew. Benjamin had motivated her this year to bring Christmas back into her home.
Her gaze drifted to Floppy beneath the tree. She’d set him there last night after her emotional moment. The stuffed mutt and Christmas went together, especially this year as she prayed for Mandy’s return.
There was a noise outside the house, and Joanne craned her neck to see out the window. She hadn’t expect Benjamin until later, but he often surprised her.
When the bell rang, she felt her smile fade. Benjamin never rang the bell anymore. He had his special rhythmic knock. Who’d be calling on her today?
When she pulled open the door, she was shocked.
“Mom! What are you doing here?”
“I decided to come,” said Evelyn Ryan, holding the door frame and hoisting her suitcase into the room.
Joanne felt her jaw sag. Her mother? She grabbed hold of the luggage and moved it away from the door, then gave her mother a hug. “This is certainly a surprise.”
“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d say no. You already said not to come, but I’m not staying away when you need family with you.”
Joanne helped her with her coat and hung it in the closet. “I just got home from church,” Joanne said, still too perplexed to think of anything else to say.
“I figured.”
Joanne’s mother didn’t attend worship. Most of her family didn’t. Joanne’s introduction to her faith had come from Greg, a lifelong Christian who had a close walk with the Lord. Joanne had fallen in step as easily with God as she had with Greg.
“Please, sit,” Joanne said, trying to relax the frown from her face. “I’ll take this into the guest room.”
Her mother wandered into the living room and headed for the tree while Joanne maneuvered the luggage down the hallway. She grinned when she came through the bedroom door. Benjamin had piled the boxes in the middle of the room because she’d said she wasn’t having company. Little had she known…
Joanne set her mother’s suitcase on the bed, then shifted the boxes to the doorway. In the hallway, she opened Mandy’s bedroom door. She felt a twinge when she glanced inside at the girlish wallpaper and white furniture. As she shifted the boxes from the guest room to Mandy’s, loneliness swept over. She returned to the hallway and closed the door. This wasn’t the time for melancholy.
“The house looks nice decorated for Christmas,” her mother said, standing beside the tree as she entered the living room. “It’s real, too. I can smell it.”
“Thanks. It is real.” Joanne faltered before continuing. “This is the first year I’ve decorated since…”
Her mother turned to her with a frown. “This is the first year?”
“Well, I was with you last Christmas.”
“But you weren’t yourself. I felt like a stranger came for the holidays.”
Her mother’s words struck her an unexpected blow. Joanne had felt as if she’d been treated like a stranger. “I’m sorry. It’s a good thing I didn’t agree to come this year.”
Her mother looked away with a sigh. “I don’t want to argue about it, Joanne. I just felt as if you were withdrawn. What’s that word?” She pinched her lip as she thought. “Aloof. Is that it?”
Joanne thought back to last Christmas. She’d felt unattached to her family, perhaps withdrawn. “Yes. That’s the word, I suppose.”
Her mother didn’t say anymore, and Joanne decided to steer clear of the subject. “Please sit, Mom. I’ll make some fresh coffee—or would you prefer tea?”
“Either’s fine.”
“Have you eaten?”
“I had a big breakfast before I left Cleveland. It isn’t that far. Under three hours.”
Joanne nodded and gestured toward a chair before heading for the kitchen. As she stood inside the room putting water on for tea, she wondered why her mother had come. They’d never been close—not that she hadn’t longed to be, but her mother seemed focused on her sister and her own doings, and not on much else.
The teakettle began to whistle on the burner and Joanne set two cups on the counter plus the pot, then pulled out four teabags. She preferred real tea steeped in a tea ball, but this would be faster.
Joanne poured the water into her flowery teapot and set everything on a tray with the fixings, not remembering how her mother liked tea.
She lifted the tray and carried it into the hallway. As she stepped through the arch to the living room, she paused, seeing her mother standing beside the tree with Floppy in her hand.
Her mother must have heard her because she turned. “This was Mandy’s.”
“I found it in the tree-trimming boxes.”
“She used to toddle all over the house, dragging this poor beat-up thing.”
“I’m surprised you remember.” Joanne’s sigh rattled through her as she continued across the room.
“I don’t suppose you remember who gave her this.”
“I thought we did.”
Her mother shook her head. “No, your dad and I did for her first birthday. I remember finding it at the department store. Mandy loved this old thing.”
Joanne set the tray on the coffee table. Now that her mother mentioned it, she did recall the plush dog had been in the gifts her mother had sent from Cleveland. “She slept with it every night.” She turned away so her mother wouldn’t notice her sadness.
Evelyn returned the dog to its place beneath the tree and crossed the room to the sofa. She proceeded to pour the tea into the two cups, then lifted one and took a sip.
After Joanne took her cup, she settled across from her mother and waited, though she was filled with so many questions.
Her mother looked uneasy and didn’t speak for a while. Then she said, “Maybe I made a mistake coming here. I should probably just head back home.”
“I’m sorry you don’t feel welcome. I’m just astounded that you came.” Especially since she’d told her not to—but then her mother always did things her way. “I’m having a bad time with all this trauma. I’d begun to heal from the tragedy, and this has dragged everything out again. It’s like living it all over, but this time with a precious hope dangling in front of me—the thought that Mandy might be alive.”
“I don’t understand how that could be, Joanne. Are you sure this isn’t some kind of hoax?”
“Is that why you came? Because you thought I’d fallen for a hoax?”
Her mother looked startled, and Joanne regretted being so blunt.
“I came because you’re my daughter and I thought you might like to have some family around for support.”
Her mother’s look had darkened, and Joanne couldn’t really blame her. Her greeting hadn’t been very welcoming.
“I have friends,” Joanne said. “I can count on them.” The dig slipped from her mouth before she could stop it, yet she knew she’d been honest. “But you’re here now, so stay a couple of days if you’d like.”
The word friends rang in her ears. She didn’t have that many—Benjamin, Nita, a couple of people at church who were more acquaintances than anything.
“I’m glad you have friends, Joanne. I know we haven’t been much help to you, living so far away.”
She wanted to remind her mother that she’d mentioned the ride hadn’t taken that long—under three hours. Where had her family been when Joanne needed support during those lonely months after the accident?
She opened her mouth to ask, but something stopped her. She recalled a lesson from God’s Word—reckless words pierce like a sword, but wise words bring healing. She couldn’t handle mending their relationship today, but she wouldn’t close the door on it.
No matter how frustrated and hurt she was by her family’s rejection, her mother had come on her own, with no prodding from Joanne.
She lifted her gaze to her mother’s questioning eyes. “It was thoughtful to come, Mom. I don’t think there’s anything you can do to help. I know you’re concerned about a hoax, but I don’t think this is one. My heart tells me differently, and I have a photograph—”
“A photograph?” A frown settled on her face.
Joanne told her mother the story of finding the snapshot in her Christmas packages and having the conversation with the woman. “But she hasn’t contacted me further, and I’m afraid she was the woman found dead in the Dearborn park.”
Her mother paled as she listened. “I can’t believe all of—”
A familiar knock on the front door halted her mother midsentence, and Joanne felt a flush rise to her cheeks.
“Company?” her mother asked.
Uneasy, she glanced at the door and then her mother. “It’s Benjamin.”
She watched her mother’s eyes widen. “Benjamin?”
“Maybe you’ll remember him once you see him again,” Joanne said as she hurried to the door and pulled it open.
“You have a visitor?” Benjamin asked, gesturing toward the car in the driveway.
“My mom.”
He felt his eyebrows arch, but he said nothing as he stepped in. “Hello,” he said, crossing the living room toward her mother with his hand extended. “We met years ago. You probably don’t remember me.”
Her mother rose and took his hand. “I do now that I see you.”
Benjamin slipped off his jacket and tossed it on a small chair by the archway. “You’ve come for the holidays?”
“No, I’ll have to get back—but Joanne told me about her ordeal and I had to come.”
“I understand,” he said, giving Joanne a sweeping glance.
“I told her no,” Joanne said, “But Mom surprised me and came anyway.”
Her mother nodded. “I couldn’t leave her going through all this without family.”
Benjamin looked from Joanne to her mother, trying to read what had happened between them. “That was thoughtful,” he said finally.
In Joanne’s face he saw the usual tension when she spoke of her mother. Yet hope wore through his thoughts. He believed things had a purpose, and perhaps this visit, even though unwelcome by Joanne, was a means of resolving some of the issues between them. If the trials Joanne had been going through accomplished one thing, resolution and forgiveness would be a good reward.
The conversation shifted to Joanne’s sister and family affairs. Joanne’s edginess seemed obvious, but her mother plugged along, and Joanne joined in even though she seemed stressed. Benjamin felt out of place, and yet they included him in the discussion. To his surprise, as the time ticked by, they chuckled occasionally, and the more he watched the more he felt hopeful about the possibility of healing between them.
When the telephone rang, Joanne gave him an urgent look, then rose and left the room. He tried to carry on casual conversation with Evelyn, but his attention was drawn to Joanne’s voice coming from the kitchen. She didn’t sound upset, so he hoped it was a friend calling.
“It was Cortezi,” she said when she returned. “He asked me to come down to the station today.”
He noticed nervous tremors in her hands when she gestured, her focus shifting from him to her mother.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you here for an hour or so. We’ll talk about dinner later, but make yourself a sandwich or something if you’re hungry.”
“No problem. I’ll unpack and rest while you’re gone.” Her mother gestured toward him. “Benjamin can go with you, I hope.” She looked at him pointedly.
“I sure will,” he said, relieved she’d accepted his friendship with Joanne. “And don’t worry about dinner, I’ll take you both out to eat when we get back.”
Joanne crossed the room to the foyer closet, and he followed.
“What did Hank say?” he whispered as she pulled out her coat.
“He wants to talk to me about the person who sent the e-mails.”
His stomach jarred with the news. The answer they’d been waiting for could be only minutes away.