by Christina Li
“I’m so sorry,” said Grandma. “Perhaps you can do a show here in town or at the college.”
“Perhaps. I guess we have another thing to pray about. What am I going to do with my life now?”
“Oh, I think you’ll be surprised at how the Lord answers that one. He often doesn’t do the things that we expect, but He always does what is best,” said her grandfather.
As she sat gazing at these two wonderful people she called her grandparents, she felt guilty for not sharing the rest, but at the same time she was glad her answers seemed to satisfy them for now. Maybe later she would get up the courage to tell them the rest.
Chapter 3
Daniel couldn’t seem to focus on the assignments he was supposed to grade. He scowled at the clock on the wall next to his door, but realized it didn’t deserve his ire. He was frankly distracted by the memory of a pair of big, vibrant, chestnut brown eyes.
Getting up from the table, he picked up a book and absently put it on a nearby shelf. I wonder if I’ll remember where I put this later? Restless, he walked the length of the room. Would he get more done at a coffee shop or not? He could always go to the restaurant early.
No, it was better to get this particular work done here. He knew what the problem was, but didn’t want to admit it—even to himself. At first he blamed it on the goose egg emanating from the back of his skull, but the ice pack had seemingly done a miracle. The swelling was gone and his balance was more or less back to normal. He simply couldn’t get Vanessa out of his head. She was beautiful. That was obvious, but so what? He had seen plenty of beautiful women before. What color was her hair? Auburn? Cinnamon? He decided it was a kind of red copper brown, like a new American penny. It was long and wavy, reaching past her knees. What would it feel like to touch?
Oh for pity’s sake! Focus, man! As he glanced up, the clock mocked him. Grimacing, he forced himself to grade those last few papers before he had to run.
***
Denny flew into O’Hare airport late that night which didn’t improve his mood at all. He had a rough idea of where Vanessa was. He had forced it out of Collie after she confessed that she had hidden the vase in one of Vanessa’s moving boxes in a fit of jealousy. He needed that precious vase. Without it, he couldn’t pay back the $50K he’d borrowed. The people he had borrowed money from always got their money back—one way or another, often using unpleasant and painful methods.
He could have taken something else from the art gallery/museum, but the police were investigating the theft. If he tried to steal anything else, he could end up in prison himself and he wasn’t about to take that chance. Better to get out of California for a while and find that vase.
He took an airport taxi to the nearest hotel. He glared at the no smoking sign inside. He was trying to quit, but it was hard. He imagined taking a long drag and could almost taste the nicotine. As soon as he got his hotel room, he resolved to buy a pack and light up. A guy could take only so much.
Tomorrow would be soon enough to find that stupid little Chicago suburb. At least he was pretty sure it was in one of the northwest suburbs. It shouldn’t be too far away. Though Chicago proper had well over 2 million people, the surrounding suburbs combined had over 9 million. But, coming from LA, he wasn’t intimidated. A city’s a city. How hard could it be?
As he fell asleep that night, he figured he had probably beat Vanessa’s boxes here anyway. Like it or not, he would have to be patient. But, not too patient. His lenders would only wait so long. Then, they would find him. They always did. And then he wouldn’t be able to run…
***
Daniel did not want to be at the dinner meeting that evening. He frankly didn’t see the point. All the planning was already done. This was last minute details that could easily be taken care of via e-mail or text messaging. Oh well. The food was good.
The soft music in the background did little to dispel the mounting tension. It was the three of them, his boss, Professor Mona Pierce, the chair of the anthropology department, Dr. Rita Thomas, professor emeritus and head of the Archaeological Society, and himself, a lowly professor, specializing in linguistic anthropology. The meeting’s focus was the Annual Archaeological Society Dinner.
The college depended on grants and donations to survive and this dinner was one of their major fund raising events. Because of the economy, donations had been down. They needed to get several large donations. Nonetheless, Daniel didn’t like that his boss didn’t have any problem using his boyish good looks, single status, and British accent to help raise funds. When he first came to the college three years ago, it seemed a lark and he’d enjoyed himself. That particular year they received more funds than they had the previous three years combined. Now, he felt a little like a ‘bachelor for hire’. She was good enough to accept that as a Christian, he refused to outright flirt with the rich women. Still, she wasn’t above forcing him to give an entertaining power point presentation. She’d told him he appeared somewhat ‘James Bondish’ in a tuxedo. He stifled the urge to groan aloud.
At least, he glanced at the digital clock on his iPad for the fourth time, it was nearing ten o’clock. The restaurant would close soon and they would be forced to end the meeting.
Unfortunately, his trials weren’t quite over for the evening.
“Daniel,” Dr. Thomas seemed like a hungry hawk regarding a nice, juicy mouse.
“Yes, Dr. Thomas,” he replied. He realized he was going to require some serious divine assistance soon. He had been praying all evening that his attitude would remain pleasant, but all kinds of red flags waved like tongues of fire at that particular gleam in her eyes.
“You know you can call me ‘Rita’, Dear,” she said patting his hand. Right. And that would go over so well. “I have a friend coming to the dinner, a very dear friend.” She paused meaningfully. “My dear friend has a daughter. It wouldn’t hurt you to be friendly to her.” ‘Dear’ meaning deep pocketed, why wouldn’t she just come out and say it?
Help, Lord! “Certainly, I will be courteous.”
“Courteous isn’t quite what I had in mind,” she said dryly. “Are you planning on brining a date to the event? I think it would be best if you did not.”
Daniel tried not to allow his annoyance to show. But feeling sudden inspiration, Daniel spoke with surprising confidence. “I’m afraid I do have a date already.” Uh, Lord, I do?
“You do?” both ladies said at the same time. His boss had the grace to try to hide her surprise quickly. Dr. Thomas didn’t bother.
“Yes.” Uh, Lord, who will she be?
“Well, I can’t wait to meet her,” said Dr. Thomas. For once he and the Dr. agreed. She pursed her lips as if she had eaten an entire lemon.
Their waiter arrived and handed them the bill. Dr. Thomas snatched it, signing the paper and placing her credit card in the leather envelope. The waiter quietly walked away with obvious amusement.
“I guess that’s it then,” said Prof. Pierce as she typed a few last notes to herself onto her iPad. “I’ll see you, Dr. Thomas in a couple of weeks, and Daniel, I’ll probably see you tomorrow on campus.”
Prof. Pierce wasn’t a bad chair. She was merely playing politics. Leastways she was too professional to interfere with his personal life. “Good evening, Professor.”
The waiter returned with Dr. Thomas’s credit card. Absently, she put it back into her wallet. “You might want to reconsider your date for the evening,” she said. “My friend was considering funding a trip to Israel next summer. Her daughter is studying anthropology and wants to specialize in archaeology. In fact, she’s in one of your classes and mentioned you. She’s a pretty girl, Daniel.”
“I’m afraid that would be unethical, Dr. Thomas. If I were to become romantically involved with one of my students, I could be dismissed.”
“I’m sure something could be worked out. The college would not want to lose you,” she replied, undaunted.
“Well, I’m afraid I cannot reconsider my date. I would ne
ver treat a lady so poorly,” he answered and smiled. Shutting his own iPad case, he stood. “Good evening, Dr. Thomas. I hope the rest of your week goes well.”
She nodded and pursed her lips as she stood. Regally, she led the way as they left the restaurant.
***
Driving home, Daniel chuckled as he reflected on the evening. He had the windows rolled down and enjoyed the slight breeze on his face and the pleasant woodsy scents from the nearby city forest preserve.
The Lord had saved him beautifully from Dr. Thomas’s clutches, but who did the Lord have in mind? He had been widowed for five years now. He wasn’t even sure he remembered how to go on a date. Nevertheless, he trusted the Lord completely. Surely, whatever the Lord was planning was for his good.
“So, who’s the girl, Lord?” he asked. Often, alone in his car he spoke his prayers out loud. Though the answers weren’t necessarily audible, he liked the freedom of conversing with the Lord like two good mates.
Then, he nearly went off the side of the road at the reply. “Lord?! She bopped me really good upside the back of my head! She bound my hands and feet with duct tape—pink duct tape!”
“Oh, yes, it was pink striped.” He tried to keep the sarcasm from his voice. “I don’t even like her.” He knew he was lying to himself AND the Lord, but then his real fear came out.
“What if she’d rather not?” He was making excuses, but he most definitely felt uncomfortable with this idea.
Silence met his words.
He tried one last small thing. “She’s an artist, Lord. What if she’s terribly bored?”
This time a gentle reminder of those vivid, captivating, chestnut brown eyes floated before his mind’s eye. “Yes, she’s beautiful and she’s the daughter of two scientists. At the least she won’t be intimidated by professors, scientists, and the wealthy.”
Then, he got another impression and laughed out loud. “Yes, Lord, she is quite a scrapper. I admit that.” He cautiously probed the back of his head for any remaining signs of the recent trauma, to which he found only a small knot. “I think Dr. Thomas or anyone else trying to match make would meet a formidable opponent.”
Sighing, he admitted, “Lord, it’s been a long while since I’ve thought about a woman romantically. I forgave Claudine a long time ago, but it’s hard to imagine trusting a woman like that again.”
Though he had never shared with anyone other than his pastor and his pastor’s wife about what had in actual fact happened in Claudine’s car wreck, it had taken a long time to heal from the emotional damage. Ultimately, it had led to his relocating ‘across the pond’ as they say ‘overseas’. Frankly, he was blessed to have even gotten the job. In the aftermath of dealing with grief and emotional crisis, his credibility as a professor was nearly lost. A friend of his pastor’s wife heard about the job in a small college in the Chicagoland area, he applied, and the Lord worked out the rest. He had been here three years now and didn’t regret it for a moment, even in spite of people like Dr. Thomas.
When he had first arrived, it was easy enough to plead grief as an excuse to any overtures well-meaning persons might try to attempt. He simply wasn’t ready.
Now, that he was into his third year in the area that excuse was no longer as effective. People in church were gracious and never pushy about such things, but others weren’t so easily put off. He was running out of defenses. Why couldn’t he be left alone? Even the Lord is working against me, he mused.
No, that’s a bad attitude. “I’m sorry I’m cranky, Lord. I’ll trust You in this too. At least it promises to be an interesting evening.”
Chapter 4
Vanessa knelt on the soft rug next to her bed praying. Flipping the pages of her Bible to Psalms 34, she read, ‘A Psalm of David, when he changed his behavior before Abimelech; who drove him away, and he departed. (v1) I will bless the LORD at all times: his praise shall continually be in my mouth. (v2) My soul shall make her boast in the LORD: the humble shall hear thereof, and be glad. (v3) O magnify the LORD with me, and let us exalt his name together. (v4) I sought the LORD, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears. (v5) They looked unto him, and were lightened: and their faces were not ashamed. (v6) This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles.’
“Oh Lord, You have been so faithful to me. I went my own way, and yet You reached out to me. Thank You so much for forgiving me and allowing me a second chance here at home. Please help me to restore my relationship with my parents as well. I am thankful that You are a God of second chances.”
She spent the next several minutes alternating between Bible reading and praying. Getting up at last, she was ready to face the day. She could do this. At least now she had hope.
The heavenly aroma of freshly brewed coffee lured Vanessa into the kitchen a few moments later. She was slightly taken aback, when she heard Grandma say, “Hello, Daniel,” as she entered the kitchen.
“Good morning, Vanessa-Girl.” Her grandmother handed her a glorious cup of Java, the steam releasing the enticing essence into the air. Being a coffee connoisseur, she was in heaven when she was in her grandparents’ home. The coffee experience was quite intoxicating to her. Vanessa took a slow sip from her mug, savoring every subtlety and nuance. As good as LA coffee shops were, nothing could compare with her grandfather’s fresh roast. The taste was bold, hints of cocoa and spice, smooth, full bodied, invigorating! She would have to ask later what blend he used this morning.
“Would you like pancakes? I’ve got strawberries to put on top.”
Coming back to earth, she nodded as she grabbed a plate and fork and sat down at the table across from Daniel. She was surprised to see him there, but apparently it was expected. He was definitely more than a typical ‘border’. In fact, Grandma had spoken at length the night before of how she was working to ‘fatten up’ the ‘dear boy’.
Daniel straightened his yellow bowtie and pulled at his suit jacket, shifting his weight side to side, avoiding her eyes. Last night, disoriented and in pain, he had still an air of confidence and peace about him. What was going on today? Perhaps the meeting the night before rattled him.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
Grandma turned from cutting more strawberries at the counter. “Your head isn’t bothering you, is it?”
Grandpa moved the newspaper down and peered at Daniel over his bifocals.
“Oh, just so. My head is fine, thanks.” He cleared his throat. Twice. “Vanessa…”
He fidgeted a bit and rubbed the back of his neck. Maybe he did need to see a doctor. He was acting strange. Perhaps it was some male British thing. Can a concussion bring about shifts of anxiety?
“Yes, Daniel. Can I help you?” she asked smiling engagingly, unable to hide the slight puzzlement on her face.
His face flushed almost to a cherry color, but he cleared his throat and, with a slight croak and waver in his voice, managed to finally spit out a full sentence. “I was wondering if I could speak with you later about a small matter. Would you be free for lunch?”
She had been about to take a bite of pancake, but stopped en route, fork hanging in the air. “Uh, yes. I’m free. Unless my grandparents had anything planned today.” She looked over quizzically at them, and the both of them answered in turn with a slight shake of the head, eyebrows raised, looking at each other, then gazing back at Daniel, then at Vanessa, and back again, equally bemused and puzzled at the sudden change in personality at the Professor they had come to cherish as a dear nephew.
“Fine then.” His eyes went heavenward for a moment with a seeming sigh of relief. Still a bit awkward, he phonated one more question. “Shall I pick you up here or would you rather meet somewhere?”
Having overcome her initial shock, she had finally taken that bite of her pancake. It was as good as she remembered. Speaking between chews, she offered, “I could meet you somewhere. I may want to run some errands since my schedule is fairly free right now. Whatever is most conveni
ent for you. Did you have some place in mind?”
Daniel seemed to regain some of his composure. Apparently his ability to speak English was coming back.
“Do you know where Mrs. Givens’ Coffee House is? It’s not too far from the college and has quite a nice menu. Could you meet me there?”
Did Mrs. Givens’ Coffee House get their coffee beans from Grandpa? Otherwise Vanessa doubted the coffee would be any good. Hmm. A day back and she was a coffee snob already! “No, I’ve not been there, but I can always GPS. How about noon?”
“Perfect. Yes. Thanks.”
After giving her the address and some directions, he picked up his brief case and left somewhat stiffly. Vanessa noted that though he was obviously relieved, his cheeks were still a bit red tinged.
“Wonder what that was about?” asked her grandfather putting down his newspaper.
“Can’t imagine,” answered Grandma, perhaps not being completely truth, with a slight twinkle in her eye. “I suppose our Vanessa can fill us in later.” There was a bit of amusement in her voice.
“I’m sure it’s no big deal,” Vanessa replied, oblivious to her grandmother’s musings. “Perhaps he knows of a job.” Scarfing down the last of her pancake, she asked, “Is Mrs. Givens’ Coffee House the same Mrs. Givens who goes to our church?”
“Yes. You remember, don’t you? She opened up it a few years ago. She was getting it going right before you left.”
“She’s one of our best customers now. She gets all her coffee beans from us,” her grandfather added.
Good. The coffee would be quite satisfactory. Perhaps even good. All right then. “Oh yes. I was hoping it was the same family. The Givens family is amazing! And Ivy Givens had just entered college when I graduated. She was a wonderful artist. Is she still doing it?”