by Dara Girard
“Mine, too.”
They shared a look of known pain. “Hurts,” Faye said.
“It sucks.”
Faye nodded, amused by Jackie’s bluntness. “Yes, that, too.”
“I’m almost sorry I came,” she said, disgusted.
“Welcome to the circus,” a deep voice said behind them.
They turned to a man of average height and forgettable features except for eyes as blue as cornflowers. “You must admit, it’s entertaining,” Jackie said, embarrassed that her feelings had been obvious.
Faye measured him with interest. “Are you a guest?”
“A distant relative.” He looked at the coffin with sadness.
Her interest dimmed.
Jackie shook his hand, pleased to see the first sign of genuine emotion since the ceremony. “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m Jackie Henson and this is Faye Radcliff.”
“Nicolas Douglas. How did you know him?”
“He used to invest in our nonprofit organization.”
“Yes, he loved charities. What do you do?”
“Let me give you my card.” Jackie opened her purse, then shook her head. “Oh, darn. I’m all out. Faye can give you one.” She grabbed Faye’s bag, pulled out a card, and wrote her number on the back, knowing he wouldn’t use it, but not wanting to put Faye on the spot.
“What do you do?” Faye asked him.
“I’m a detective.”
“Oh.”
Jackie handed him the card. “Here.”
He stuck it in his pocket. “Thank you. You’ll be hearing from me.”
Jackie smiled. “Good.”
He returned the expression, then left.
“You’re incorrigible,” Faye whispered.
Jackie looked blank. “What?”
“Trying to fix me up at a funeral.”
“He’s attractive and you need to get out more. You’re working yourself to death. You’re always in that office.”
“Not always. I’m dedicated to my job. We came here for a purpose and that wasn’t it.”
“Well, our other reason didn’t work. I bet he’ll call back next week.”
Faye draped her handbag strap over her shoulder. “I bet he won’t call at all.”
She shrugged. “Nothing lost except a business card.”
“How can you be so optimistic?”
Sheer will. She’d learned that life had to get better even when everything else seemed lost. She stared at the grave site. It was getting harder and harder to keep that attitude. Now Hamlick was really gone and the shock of Eric’s news still lingered. She didn’t even know where her parents were buried.
“I want to stay for a minute,” Jackie said. “I’ll meet you at the car.”
“Okay.”
Jackie stood alone, the quiet of the cemetery offering little peace. She stared at Hamlick’s coffin. “Your children are awful,” she said to the box. “But I’m certain you knew that—you never spoke about them much.” She folded her arms. “I miss you already. You could have lasted a couple more years, right? But that’s selfish of me. I just don’t have anyone to talk to.”
Jackie looked up at the sky through passing cumulus clouds to the invisible deity above. “Okay, when does it end? Don’t you think I have struggled enough? Do you have to test to see how strong I am? You took away my friend. So he was old—I still loved him.” Jackie blinked back tears. “But you’ve taken loved ones from me before. I can take losing the funding. I’ll, figure that out. Brian dumping me.” She laughed bitterly. “That’s nothing new. It’s not like you blessed me with a great love life. I accept that. But Eric? No. I can’t accept that.” She clenched her fists. “I won’t accept that. I won’t. Do you hear me?”
“There’s no one up there.”
She spun around and saw Nicolas. “What?”
“You’re not talking to anybody.”
She folded her arms, surprised. “You don’t believe in God?”
“No.”
She stared at him, bewildered. “How can you bear not having faith in anything?”
“How can you have faith in something that doesn’t exist?”
“I have faith that it does.”
“Faith is just something people believe in to make the world feel more bearable. Gives you all the answers and makes you feel safe. Unfortunately, there are no real answers. Science does its best but is as limited as the mind of man. We just fumble through life, then die.”
“No, there’s more to life than that.”
“Some benevolent spirit who helps us? And which one do you believe in? The ones of myths and legends? Or the more modern, acceptable ones like Allah or Jehovah.”
“I do believe in God.” She brushed aside a tear, then laughed at herself. “I must look foolish to you.”
“No, only sad. Life is a series of misadventures—it’s easy to cast blame and it’s easy to be misled.” His eyes swept her face. For a moment she felt as though he were stripping her bare. “You’re very vulnerable. Be careful who you trust.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He hesitated, then handed her a card. “Do you believe in this?”
She looked at the white card with green printing:
Careless Rapture Ministry
Peace in Surrender
Careless Rapture? It was him? She glanced up, a sliver of fear coursing through her. He didn’t sound the same and he certainly didn’t look as she had expected. Had he followed her here? What did he want from her? She took a hasty step back.
“What do you want?”
He furrowed his brows, confused. “I only asked a question.”
“Why did you call me? Are you trying to make me believe in this? Why did you give it to me?”
“You’re the one who gave this to me.” He flipped the card over.
Jackie stared at her hasty scrawl. “Oh.” She frowned.“But I got this out of Faye’s bag.”
“Do you think she’s a believer?”
“No, she’s very traditional. It’s hard to believe she would buy into this.”
“Like I said, be careful. There are a lot of charlatans out there promising the perfect peace.”
“That’s okay. I’ll stick with what I know.” She grinned. “So are you going to call her?”
He shoved a hand in his pocket. “Personally, I’d like to call you instead.”
She blinked, surprised. “Oh. Well, um ...”
He smiled. “I know. You’re seeing someone else.” He sighed with mock regret. “The interesting ones always are.”
“Faye’s interesting.”
“I suppose she just hides it well.”
“She’s very devoted to her job. But give her time and she’ll loosen up.”
“She’s lucky to have a friend like you. So who looks out for you?”
“Besides my two brothers and their wives?”
“Good, so you’re well taken care of,” he said, like a pleased guardian.
Jackie raised a brow. “I’m not as innocent as I look.”
He turned. “No, you’re much more.”
***
Jackie thought about Nicolas’s words as Faye drove her home. “Have you ever heard of the Careless Rapture Ministry?”
“No. Why?”
“Because you had their card in your bag.”
Faye frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I spoke to Nicolas and the card I gave him had the Careless Rapture Ministry on it. Not much else but a symbol and a message of peace.”
She shook her head. “I still don’t . . . oh, no.”
Jackie turned to her, alarmed. “What?”
“I took a stack of cards off Patty’s desk and dumped them in my bag to throw away. You know how she likes to try and slip in religious material with our promotional flyers and brochures. I must have forgotten to clean out my purse.”
“Can I look now?”
“Please do, and take all the cards out.”
>
Jackie went through Faye’s organized bag and took out the cards. “Did she say where she got them?”
“I didn’t ask her,” she said with regret. “It didn’t seem important at the time.”
“I know.”
Faye sighed, resigned. “So you may be on to something about Melanie’s man.”
“Yes, I hope so.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t take you seriously before.”
“That’s okay. It sounded pretty fantastic.”
Faye tapped her finger against the steering wheel. “So what are you going to do?”
“First I’m going to talk to Patty.”
“Be careful. You know how easily she gets hurt. Do you think she mailed the card to clients?”
“No, I don’t think she’d go that far.”
“This is Patty we’re talking about.”
Jackie glanced out the window, not looking forward to the task. “I know.”
***
That night Jackie arranged her CDs, trying to pretend she wasn’t waiting for the phone to ring. When it finally did, she tripped over her shoes, hit her knee on the couch, then answered.
“Hello?” she answered, trying to sound casual.
“Did you hurt yourself?” Clay asked.
“What?”
“Did you hurt yourself racing to the phone?”
Jackie rubbed her knee and winced. “I didn’t race to the phone.”
“Hmm. Sorry I couldn’t call sooner.”
“How was the stakeout?”
“Fine. The case is closed. How was the funeral?”
“A disaster. A real circus. I’m not sure I saw one genuine teardrop and we will probably not get any help from the family. But on a positive note, Faye met a guy, Nicolas something. I forgot his last name. He seems interesting. An atheist, but I don’t think Faye is picky. Something may come of that so the day won’t have been completely wasted.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“It was. Also, I may be getting closer to our invisible man.”
“How so?”
“I accidentally gave Nicolas a card out of Faye’s bag. She had taken a stack from Patty’s desk. I’m going to ask Patty how she got them.”
“I already know how.”
Her eyes widened. “How?”
“Through the mail.”
Jackie shook her head. “No, that doesn’t sound right.”
“That’s how it happened. She has a tendency to attend conferences and put her name down to receive more information. She got on his mailing list.”
“You’re just guessing?’
“No, I’m not. She told me.”
“You came by my place?”
“No, I called her over the phone. I said I was a preacher who was organizing a church for underprivileged individuals. She helped me with some ideas. She was very open.”
Jackie sank into the couch. “Oh.”
“I thought you’d be glad I was on the case.”
“I am.”
He laughed at her disappointment. “But you wanted to be a step ahead.”
“Just a little. Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“I don’t usually give clients a play-by-play of everything I do. I get the information they need. When I have enough, you’ll know.”
“I’m still going to speak to Patty.”
“Fine. Ask her about receiving any fliers.”
“So when are you coming over? Do you want me to order now or wait until you get here?”
“Jackie—”
She closed her eyes and groaned. “Don’t tell me. You can’t make it.”
“Right now I’m standing in an alley waiting for a guy who thinks he’s a pigeon in a police sitcom. But he has information for me so I have to go along with his oddities.”
“Sounds exciting!!
“It’s not. I think I just saw a rat scurry behind a dumpster.”
“If it looks like Brian, say hello.”
“Already did.”
Jackie laughed. “Thanks.” She took down her hair and pulled out her earrings, “So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes. Remember? Sunday dinner at Drake and Cassie’s?”
“Damn, I nearly forgot about that.”
“Are you coming?”
He hesitated. “Should I?”
“Yes, I want to see you. I can keep a secret if you can.”
He was quiet, then said, “See you Sunday.”
“Clay?”
“Yeah?”
Her voice was soft. “Be careful.”
“I will.”
Jackie hung up the phone and turned on the TV.
A distance away, Clay stared at the phone, then put it in his jacket. Be careful. They were odd words to hear. He suddenly didn’t feel the March chill still gripping the air. He couldn’t remember anyone ever saying that to him. He shrugged, annoyed that he was giving the statement any importance, then turned and walked farther into the alley.
***
That Sunday afternoon, Jackie sat at the kitchen island chopping celery in her brother’s kitchen. A rich scent of stew bubbling on the stove and the sweet aroma of biscuits from the oven filled the air. Her sister-in-law, Cassie stood at the counter, scribbling something on a napkin. She wore a pink dress that complemented her full figure and the slight swell of her belly. Cassie was one of those women who managed to look comfortably pregnant—her brown hair was pulled back in a braid while her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose. She absently pushed them back in place.
Jackie smiled to herself, glad to have Cassie as part of her family. She was a comforting woman, someone to confide in and make you laugh when life seemed grim; they were qualities that made her a successful speaker and self-help author. Her other persona, Cassandra—who wore contacts and stylish clothes—little resembled the woman now.
Drake entered the kitchen and checked his stew. He looked at Jackie. “Done with the celery?”
“In a minute.”
He reached for the knife. “I can do it.”
She pointed the knife at him. “I said in a minute.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender. She finished chopping, then pushed the cutting board toward him. “There.”
“At last.” He added them to the pot, then turned to his wife. “What are you working on?”
“An idea,” Cassie said. “Shh, I’m thinking.”
He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her neck.
“Behave yourself,” she scolded.
“I’m trying.”
Eric walked into the room with Ericka attached to his leg. He saw Drake steal another kiss and scowled playfully. “What are you trying to do? Give her twins?”
Drake grinned. “Jealous?”
Eric colored a bit, but said nothing. Cassie elbowed her husband in the ribs. They all knew Eric and Adriana were trying to conceive without success. Immediately contrite, Drake slapped Eric on the back in goodwill. “Has Nina brought any herbs for me today?”
Drake succeeded in smoothing the awkward moment. Nina always put a smile on Erie’s face. “Yes, she did. Adriana has it. She’ll be in soon. We’re growing tomatoes this year.”
Ericka let go of her uncle’s leg and spun around until she fell down dizzy. She laughed, then stood to start over
“Not in the kitchen,” Cassie said.
Drake scooped her up; Ericka giggled, thinking it was a game. “Come on, let’s see what your brother and cousin are up to.”
Eric walked over to Cassie and leaned against the counter. “What are you doing?”
“Writing.”
“On a napkin?”
“A really good idea just came to me. If I don’t get it down, I’ll lose it.”
“You should try keeping pads of paper everywhere,” he suggested, being ever practical.
“I try, but somehow I still end up writing on napkins. I know I’m disorganized, but I find it preferable to not having
any ideas at all.”
“What are we having for dessert?”
“Strawberry cream pie,” she whispered, knowing his fondness for sweets. She held out her hand. “You may kiss me.”
He did so. “Could you please teach my wife how to cook?”
Cassie laughed. “The only reason Adriana would be in a kitchen is if she’d left a fashion magazine there.”
“I know.”
Adriana entered the room, draped in a purple peasant blouse, black skirt, and large gold hoop earrings. “Are you talking about me?” she asked, pulling on a strand of curly black hair that fell against her dark coffee skin. A vivacious woman, she owned three lingerie stores that had a growing name, and her own lingerie line.
“We were wondering where you were,” Cassie said.
Adriana handed her a small plastic bag. “From Nina’s garden.”
“It’s cilantro,” Eric said.
Adriana patted him on the cheek. “Thank you, dear. Since they can’t read the prominent label on the front, they’d never know what it is.”
Eric turned to Jackie and jerked his head in Adriana’s direction. “I have my regrets about marrying her sometimes.”
“The feeling is mutual.” She rested her hip against the counter. “When I think of all the men I could have married.”
He sighed. “And I think of all the women I could be sleeping with.”
Adriana stuck out her tongue.
Jackie laughed. “You two are the oddest pair of newlyweds.”
“Newlyweds? I feel as though I’ve known her all my life.” He winked, then left.
Cassie folded up her napkins. “I think everyone is here.”
“Clay hasn’t come yet,” Jackie said, then blushed. “I don’t think.”
“Yes, he has,” Adriana said. “He’s talking to Drake.”
“Oh.” She tried to sound nonchalant, though she was disappointed he hadn’t said hello.
They walked to the dining room and Cassie announced dinner.
Jackie pulled Adriana aside and said, “I wore the rose design you created. It’s great.”
Clay appeared behind them. “Is that the one with the embroidered trim?” he said.