Though he’d kissed her once, they’d agreed it had been a thing of the moment. She’d kissed him, too—a brief kiss that went without comment. What if she kissed him the way she wanted to? What would Benjamin do? She feared she might chase him away.
Was it worth the chance?
Benjamin’s car turned into the driveway, and she tucked the question aside and headed for the door, excited to see him.
When he came in he grinned and held up the bakery bag. “Hot from the oven,” he said. “Where do you want these?”
She indicated the living room. “I’ll get the coffee and napkins.”
He turned in that direction, and she headed for the kitchen where she added hot coffee to her cup, then carried everything in to him.
Once she freed herself of the mugs and napkins, Joanne dug her hand into the paper bag. The sweet scent of almond rose as she pulled one out, peeled back the paper covering its sides and sank her teeth into the crust. “I love these things, but they’re too fattening.”
“You should eat a few of them, then. You’re too thin.” His dark eyes reflected concern.
“I’m fine. You don’t like the trimmer me?”
“I like you every way, but I just don’t want you to vanish before my eyes.”
“No fear of that,” she said, feeling a smile lighten her face.
His gentle eyes searched hers. “You’re too important to me.”
The words settled over her like down—soft and silky and tickling her heart. She wondered if he really meant it the way she did.
“What are you up to today?” he asked.
“I’ve been thinking about everything you said last night. I would really like to know if the dead woman in Dearborn is the same woman I saw at the café.”
“The police are doing what they can. Maybe—”
The shrill of the telephone cut him off, and as always in the past weeks, Joanne’s heart flew to her throat. She flashed Benjamin a concerned look, then rose and headed for the kitchen. After checking the caller ID, Joanne answered and heard Cortezi’s voice.
“I spoke with Benjamin yesterday about a few things, but I wanted to let you know that we’ve hit a couple of walls.”
She’d glanced behind her when she heard Benjamin enter the room. “Would you like to talk with him? He’s here.”
“Either of you is fine,” Cortezi said.
“Okay, I’m ready.”
“As I said, we’ve hit a couple of walls, but we haven’t given up. We’ve been unable to locate Rose Stella Angelo. We found no death records. She appears to be alive, but we realize she might be remarried, so we’ll continue to look for her.”
“Not dead.” Then it wasn’t logical that Angelo would have a child living with him. She paused, realizing it could be his present wife’s child. “Finding her will answer a lot of questions,” Joanne said, discouraged.
“We checked Angelo’s home. No one’s there. It looks empty. No fresh tracks. We sent an officer to the trucking company, and according to them, Angelo’s on vacation with his family.”
Her skin prickled. “Do you believe them?”
“We’re checking with the Department of Motor Vehicles. We’ll get his car registration and then keep an eye out for his license plate. If he’s in the area, we’ll bring him in for questioning.”
“What about the dead woman in Dearborn?” Joanne asked. “Any news on her identity?”
“None, that I’ve heard. No one’s filed a missing person’s report. They’re still out there combing the area. Something will come up.”
“Thanks for filling me in.” She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice.
“By Monday we should have some news on the e-mails.”
“Benjamin said you’ve found a suspect? Who is it?”
“We haven’t questioned her yet. We will and I’ll let you know.”
“That’s it, then?”
“That’s it,” he said.
She hung up and told Benjamin what she’d learned. “I forgot to ask if they think the person e-mailing is the caller.”
“You’ll know more on Monday.”
But Joanne wanted more. She was tired of unanswered questions. “Do you realize they still have nothing concrete to go on?”
He didn’t respond. She didn’t need him to. They both knew the truth. They returned to the living room, where the coffee and muffins were cold.
Benjamin finished his muffin but pushed the mug aside. “What’s on your agenda?”
She didn’t know.
“Would you like me to leave?”
“That’s the last thing I want.” She leaned her head against the chair. “What I want is my life back.”
“Be patient. I think it’s close now.” He stood and carried their mugs into the kitchen while she sat there feeling miserable.
When he returned he’d refilled the mugs. “Let’s decorate the tree,” he said, handing her the hot coffee. “We need to do something cheerful.”
She hooked her finger into the mug, then took a careful sip. “It’s on my list of things to get done.”
“Great,” he said, setting his drink on the coffee table and rubbing his hands together. “Ready?”
She wasn’t, but Benjamin was and she figured she had little choice when he’d set his mind to something. She rose and crossed to the pile of boxes beside the tree.
He spread the cartons in front of them and lifted a lid. “Aha! Christmas balls—all sizes, all colors.” He dangled one from each finger.
His silly expression made her chuckle.
“See. You’ve cheered up already,” he said.
She forced her despondency aside. “Where’s the music? Something jolly and loud.”
He set the balls back into the carton and crossed to the CD player. She watched him crouch beside the stack of choices, shuffling through her myriad of Christmas disks. Why she had so many she didn’t know. Considering how short the holiday season was, she’d spent a fortune, but she loved the festive tunes and the lovely carols.
Soon the spirited music rang out in the gloomy atmosphere and before she knew it, Joanne surprised herself by joining in the chorus. “Fa la la la la, la la la la.”
Benjamin burst in on the last few la’s, his rich voice booming.
Joanne pulled balls and whimsical trimmings from the carton, and while he hung ornaments on the higher limbs, she filled the lower branches. When she unwrapped a white baby cradle with a pink design that said, “Baby’s First Christmas,” she faltered.
Benjamin noticed and stepped to her side. Running his finger over the delicate ornament, he said, “I’m sorry, Joanne. I feel as if I forced you to do this. I thought it would help, but maybe it’s too soon.”
“No,” she said, caressing the tiny cradle. “It’s me. It’s everything going on—but don’t blame yourself. I’m glad you goaded me into decorating for the holidays. I need to get my life back to normal, Benjamin, and I wasn’t doing a good job alone.”
“I hope you mean what you’re saying.”
Joanne rested her hand on his arm. “I wouldn’t lie to you. I mean it from the bottom of my heart.” She brushed a tear from her eye and released a soft chuckle. “You might have to put up with my whimpering a bit. Just be patient.”
“I’d think less of you if you had no feelings.”
His comment surprised her. Most men she knew hated women who cried and clung to the past. Benjamin came from a different mold.
They worked side by side, periodically bursting into choruses of “Joy to the World” or “Go Tell It on the Mountain.” As they added color and beauty to the tree’s limbs, Joanne’s thoughts drifted back to their earlier conversation when she’d asked him why he hadn’t married. He’d been evasive, and it still made her curious.
He’d stuck by her side since his return, never questioning her emotions or her wild deductions. When she had first heard the voice, most people probably thought she’d flipped. She was sure the detective had thought
so, but Benjamin had listened as though she made sense.
“What about icicles?” Benjamin asked as they pulled the last few balls from a carton.
She shook her head. “I never liked them. Sometimes I’ve added bows and ribbon garland, but I like to see the ornaments—and icicles block them.”
She leaned over to pick up one of the last ornaments, and her gaze drifted to the floppy eared dog, still sitting in one of the boxes. She felt a pang in her heart thinking about Mandy. She felt certain her daughter was alive. Now she feared Mandy had been put in danger, and she had no control over the situation.
She picked up the worn plush toy and held it in her arms. “She seems so close, Benjamin.”
He faced her, an ornament suspended in his hand. “She’s in your heart, and if God wills it, she may be back in your life. But it’s not a certainty, Joanne. I wish I could make it all come true for you, but it’s in the Lord’s hands.”
“I know, and you’ve done so much. I couldn’t ask for nothing more.” She gazed at him, drawing in his strength and being soothed by the tenderness in his eyes.
“I’m doing what my feelings tell me to do.” He turned toward the tree and attached the last ornament to the limb, then backed away.
The balls and trimmings caught the lights’ glow, and Joanne felt comforted by the familiar Christmas scene.
Benjamin crossed to her side. “What do you think?” He gestured toward the colorful branches. “Pretty nice, I’d say.”
“You and the tree,” she said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “You’re helping me find Christmas again.” It felt so natural and tonight, filled with so much emotion, she needed to touch someone. She’d lived too long with only memories.
Joanne pivoted toward him. With his arm still across her back, she put her arms around his waist and bound her fingers together.
He stood so close she could feel him breathe, and she sensed the ripple of his muscles as he reacted to her caress.
Benjamin drew her into an embrace. They stood in silence for a moment, face to face, eyes searching eyes, until Joanne did what her heart led her to do. She reached up on tiptoe and her lips sought his.
She felt him tense, yet in a heartbeat, his mouth softened and moved beneath hers. The kiss stirred her longing. An exquisite depth of feeling flooded her.
Benjamin moved his hand upward and caressed her cheek, then ran his fingers through her hair. The unbelievable feeling caused her pulse to dance. When he eased his hold, his lips lingered on hers, then brushed feathery kisses on her nose and her eyelids.
A shudder coursed through her. Amazement, wonder and delight filled her.
Neither spoke. Joanne rested her head on his chest and felt his heart beat beneath her cheek. With his hand he grazed her arm so tenderly that she wanted to cry.
When she shifted away and looked at him, he gazed at her with dark hooded eyes that flickered with deep emotion. “You’re an amazing woman.”
“And you’re an amazing man.”
He seemed embarrassed and shy as he stepped back. Instead of speaking, he crossed the room and stacked the individual ornament containers into a larger box. “Where do you want this?” When he turned and looked at her, she could see his mind was not on the decorating.
“Let’s put it in the guest room. I’m not expecting any holiday company.” She gestured, but knew she didn’t need to show him. The room was right next to Mandy’s bedroom, still pink and white with rosy balloon wallpaper and shell-colored curtains, white furniture, and toys on the shelves. She hadn’t had the heart to change it.
Benjamin loaded the boxes into his arms and carried them through the archway.
Joanne slipped into a chair, amazed at what she’d done. Her lips still tingled from Benjamin’s mouth on hers. She couldn’t believe he felt as she did. He’d joined in the kiss with the same eagerness she had felt, as if they’d waited forever to seal their friendship—their relationship…She didn’t know what it was, but her heart knew it was special.
As the warm, lovely feeling enveloped over her, guilt pulled at her like an undertow. Benjamin had been Greg’s friend, and hers. How could these feelings have grown and blossomed into something so different from friendship?
The reality was that Greg had been gone for three years. He would want her to love again, to find someone special to share her life with, to laugh and enjoy the sunrise.
When she heard Benjamin’s footsteps, she forced the thoughts away.
“Done,” he said, brushing his hands together as he stepped into the room. “What now?”
She shrugged. “How about some food?” But it occurred to her that the same question could be asked about them.
What now?
Chapter Seventeen
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 h
allway 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.
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