by Jan Thompson
Emmeline had considered the opportunity to catch her breath as a blessing from God. She sat on a rattan chair and watched the world go by as the sun moved in and out of the rustling trees in the front yard.
One more month until the first day of the fall semester at the University of Georgia.
If all went well with her parents, Emmeline would be driving to Athens from Roswell two weeks to the day. If they still needed her help, she’d postpone her enrollment at UGA to the Spring semester.
Unless, of course, her aunt from Boston finally made it. She’d talked about visiting and giving Mom some help. A nurse practitioner, Aunt Laurie would be welcomed, indeed.
Things are wrapping up nicely. Thank You, Lord.
She stopped swinging.
Not all things.
She owed Sebastian an apology for not being able to keep her end of the bargain. She needed to make sure that he hadn’t kept paying Helen Hu to search for Claude. Of course, she wanted her brother found, but not at Sebastian’s unrewarded expenses.
Next thing she knew, she was inside the house looking for her cell phone.
Sebastian picked up at the first ring, as if he’d been expecting her to call.
“No apologies needed, Em. I understand.” Sebastian’s voice was like that of the late night radio guy who soothed a tired soul when one couldn’t sleep—not that Emmeline ever had to turn on the radio at night after a long concert that had drummed up her adrenaline.
“It’s not fair to you,” she said.
“No worries. Besides, Talia moved to Savannah.”
“She did? Why?”
“She moved in with Jared.”
“Oh.”
“It’s over. I’m officially single.” A pause. “I’ve been single for months. I just didn’t see it for what it was—is.”
“We all find out way forward.”
“With God’s help, we won’t be wandering around.”
“Exactly. Look, I’ll find a way to pay you back for Helen Hu.”
“No.”
“I can’t put you out like that, Seb.”
“Then have dinner with me.”
“One dinner?”
Another pause. “One is better than no dinner at all. I’ll cook.”
“It’d better be good.”
“Are you questioning my ability to cook?”
Emmeline laughed. “I’ll find a way to get your SUV back to you.”
“You can keep up until we have dinner.”
Emmeline got back into the house and walked about in the family room. “I’m not even driving it anymore. Mom wants me to use their old car to keep the engine going.”
“I can get around. Don’t worry about it.”
“In your little putt-putt car.”
Sebastian chuckled. “Well, how are you, Em?”
“Me? I’m fine. A bit tired.”
“I bet. Must be hard to take care of one parent, let alone two.”
“They’re not invalids, but they’re needy. I’m thankful that we have church friends who are helping out. In fact, I have a few hours off this afternoon since I don’t have to take Dad to the cardiologist.”
“Good. Well, we miss you. I miss you.”
Emmeline didn’t respond to that.
“Everyone’s praying for you over here, from Pastor Gonzalez to our Men’s Bible Study Group. Keep me—or Skye—posted.”
“Sure. Please tell them thanks. We appreciate all prayers.”
“Will do.”
“What are you doing these days? Keeping busy?” Emmeline stood by the window.
There, with the bits of sun rays reflected off the window panes, she remembered the first time Sebastian had gone to SISO’s music library—where he had talked to her mechanic, fended off Rafferty, and told her he wanted a certain piece of harp music played at his wedding.
It seemed so long ago now…
“Me? I’m getting back to the kitchen.” There were hints of joy in Sebastian’s voice.
“Isn’t cooking what you love?”
“Yep. Probably as much as you love your harp.”
“I do love my harp.”
“I miss hearing you play.”
Emmeline turned back toward Dad’s harp in a prominent corner of the family room, away from the fireplace and windows.
“Hold on a sec, Seb.” She placed the cell phone on the music stand to one side of the harp and turned on the speakers.
She adjusted the bench behind the harp and sat down. “So. What do you want to hear?”
“Anything. Oriental, maybe?”
“Aren’t you tired of that?” No reason for her to revive his interest.
Her phone call to Sebastian wasn’t to keep their connections alive, but was for apologies and closing out an ill-conceived chapter.
“Not when you play it. You can play that piece for me everyday the rest of my—uh…”
Emmeline felt awkward.
What did I say?
This is exactly what I had feared.
Then again, she had felt something for Sebastian too, hadn’t she? Still, no need to fan it. “How about something else?”
“Surprise me.”
Emmeline pulled the harp toward herself. She strummed. “Can you hear that?”
“Loud and clear.”
“I’ll play you one of Dad’s favorite hymns. Do you want to hear Wayfaring Stranger or one I arranged myself?”
“Yours.”
“Fanny Crosby had written the lyrics for For You and Me. Are you familiar with that?”
“No.”
“You might be more familiar with another arrangement from the nineties, O Love Divine.” Emmeline strummed.
“Yes, I’ve heard that at church before,” Sebastian said on the phone.
“This is a new arrangement of my own. I did this for Dad’s birthday last year. I call mine Divine Love. Ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Here we go.”
And harp music filled the room as Emmeline played and sang.
O Love divine, amazing Love!
That brought to earth, from Heaven above;
The Son of God, for us to die,
That we might dwell with Him on high…
When Emmeline finished playing the hymn, there was silence on the cell phone. She thought she’d lost Sebastian and that she would have to play it all over again.
Then she heard some sort of sniffle. “Are you coming down with something?”
“Allergies. Just allergies.”
Chapter Forty
“Stop calling and texting me repeatedly at all hours of the day and night.” Helen Hu’s voice was terse. “Let me call you when I have news.”
Sebastian mumbled into his iPhone. “I just want Em’s brother found.”
“So do I. Have to use up your retainer, you know.”
“Appreciate your honesty there.” Sebastian slid onto the chaise lounger on his deck overlooking the marshes.
He wished he’d bought a house facing the ocean, but those cottages were expensive. If he had to sell this house to help find Claude, he might do it. A place to stay was nothing for him. He’d bought this house for his future together with Talia.
Except Talia had taken her future somewhere else.
In a way, Sebastian felt he, too, had moved on.
Maybe.
“Since you’re calling me now, Helen, does that mean you have news?” Sebastian swatted a couple of mosquitoes from his thighs and arms.
The citronella candles weren’t working too great this late morning. Those buzzers came around the clock these days. Used to be they’d come out early mornings and late evenings. These days the entire southeastern United States seemed to be infested with them—Smack!
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
Sebastian sat straight up. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“I’m still miffed that for the last three weeks you’ve called me incessantly and texted me until my phone memory runneth over.”
“I’ll never understand you, Helen.”
“Don’t get personal with me, Sebastian.”
“What’s the news?”
“How soon can you pack?” Helen asked.
“You found Claude!” Sebastian sprung up and bounced around on his deck.
He felt a bit silly but no one else was around. He had paid a goodly sum for this deck, and as the owner of said overpriced deck, he could do whatever he wanted.
“We’ve had many sightings but this one is pretty good. I sent photos to the O’Hanlons, and they pretty much confirmed it’s Claude. I’m going to see them this afternoon before they serve dinner at the soup kitchen, and I thought you might want to tag along considering that it’s your reward money that had accelerated our search.”
That.
“I still can’t believe you’re doing this for some girl you just had a short summer fling with.”
Fling? “It’s not a fling, Helen.”
“It’s more serious than that? Hey, if you want us to do background check on this lady friend of yours, just call my office.”
“I’m not sure if that’s necessary.”
“We can do the entire thing on her including blood types. You don’t want to marry someone only to mess up your babies due to blood type incompatibility.”
Babies? Huh?
“Helen, focus. You were talking about Claude, remember? Claude O’Hanlon.”
“What? Oh, yes. Sorry about that. I’ve been up all night on another case.”
“Maybe you need a break. Come to St. Simon’s. Take a sabbatical.”
“I just might, if I can fit it into my calendar.” Helen sighed loudly. “Okay. Claude O’Hanlon. I’m meeting the family at four o’clock this afternoon. Can you be there?”
“I don’t want them to know I put up the reward money.”
“They don’t know. But the whole family was having a cry-fest and I thought maybe you’d want to comfort your lady friend.”
“Em? She’s tougher than you think.”
“Fine. Forget I suggested it. I’ll let you know what we find.”
“Wait, Helen. I didn’t mean I’m not going. Are you kidding?” Sebastian checked the time on his iPhone. Almost noon. “Let me see if I can get a flight out. Hold on a sec.”
“I don’t have a sec. Text me.”
“You just said stop texting you.”
“I’ll make one exception. Gotta run, Seb. Have another case to open.”
“Thank you, Helen. I appreciate all your hard work.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank God. It’s a miracle we found Claude. Do you know how many thirty-something mentally ill men are wandering about these homeless shelters all across the southeast?”
“She’s here! She’s here!” Mom flitted from throw pillows on the couch to armchair and then back at throw pillows, rearranging them as we went.
“Did you hear that?” she practically screeched. “She’s pulling up the driveway.”
Emmeline straightened up some coffee table books, praying quietly for her parents that they’d stay calm.
She also prayed that Claude would really come home soon. It sounded too good to be true, but then if she walked by faith, she shouldn’t doubt that God was going to pull a fast one on her.
She had to trust that God would answer their prayers one way or another.
Even if the answer is: you’ll never see your brother again until you go to heaven.
Emmeline picked up some scattered travel magazines. Mom had been at it again, dog-earing cruise pages she wanted to show Dad when he felt better. Not that it was any surprise to Dad. Both her parents had been thinking of taking an Alaskan cruise for the longest time but they’d never gone.
Now with Dad’s heart attack, Emmeline wondered if she should suggest they went on their vacation before it was too late.
Dad stayed in his favorite armchair on the other side of the coffee table, stroking the cat on his lap.
Claude’s cat, who only answered to “Dinner,” was pushing ten years old. The ginger cat’s facial fur had turned whitish. He preferred nowhere better than to nap on Dad’s lap. Often they’d sit together for hours with either Mom or Emmeline having to turn off the television after Dad had dozed off.
Dad tried to appear calm, but Emmeline knew he had been as excited as Mom when Helen Hu called this morning to say they had spotted Claude at the DeKalb Soup Kitchen off Memorial Drive. Two days prior, someone had seen him in the Marietta area. How he managed to get from Cobb County to DeKalb was anyone’s guess. He’d have to walk or hitch a ride around Interstate 285 either through Dunwoody or in the Chamblee area.
Emmeline couldn’t imagine what life was like on the streets.
She held back a tear as the doorbell rang.
“Get the door, Em.” Mom plopped down on the couch, all ladylike.
Barefoot, Emmeline padded toward the front door. On both sides of the door were stained-glass panels preventing her from seeing who was outside. It had to be Helen Hu, but one couldn’t be too sure. This was neighbor-friendly Roswell but this was also metro Atlanta where they locked their doors two ways and set their house alarms every night.
She peeked through the keyhole. Saw no one. The doorbell rang again.
“Open the door, dear!” Mom’s voice became impatient. “It’s Helen.”
Emmeline unbolted the door.
Whoa.
She stared over Helen’s head. “What are you doing here?”
“To talk about Claude, of course,” Helen said.
Emmeline pointed at Sebastian. He had some sun on him and a fresh haircut. “Him. Why is he here?”
Helen Hu, on five-inch stiletto heels, came up to about Emmeline’s shoulders. “He’s why we found Claude this soon.”
Mom was right behind Emmeline. “Please come in, Helen.”
Emmeline stepped aside, suddenly embarrassed. “I don’t know why I was rude.”
“You were shocked to see me.” Sebastian lifted her chin. “I missed you too.”
Emmeline didn’t say a word.
Helen Hu’s animated staccato voice drew them both into the family room to join the conversation. Mom began to cry a little. Dad remained stoic. The cat perked up when Mom began to sniffle loudly. Claude’s cat leapt off Dad’s lap and rubbed against Mom’s legs.
When Dad looked her way, Emmeline had no choice.
“Mom, Dad, this is Sebastian Langston.” Emmeline watched Dad’s expression as he shook Sebastian’s hand. “He’s a—a—uh, friend.”
“You work for Helen?” Dad asked.
“No, I have my own business.” Sebastian glanced at Emmeline.
Emmeline didn’t say a word. In fact, she hadn’t said anything about Sebastian to her parents since she had arrived in town several weeks ago.
Mom simply waved to Sebastian. She was busy swiping Helen’s iPad to look at the slideshow.
Emmeline sat down next to Mom. Leaned over to look at the footage of a soup kitchen. “Is that Claude in the line?”
“It is Claude. He looks older. My baby looks like he’s in pretty bad shape.” Mom started to weep softly.
Somewhere there was a box of tissue paper. Emmeline’s eyes were looking for it, when the box magically appeared in front of her. Sebastian was one step ahead of her.
“Thanks.” Emmeline handed it to Mom.
Sebastian crossed over to the other side of the coffee table and sat down next to Dad.
Dad was eyeing him. “So you’re a friend of Em’s. On St. Simon’s or at UGA?”
“St. Simon’s. We attend the same church.”
Dad nodded as if it explained everything. “And what do you do?”
“I cook. I own a restaurant.”
Emmeline looked up. “Two?”
“Sold my share of Saffron to Skye,” Sebastian explained. “We signed the papers a few days ago.”
“Oh. I haven’t talked to Skye since last week.” Emmeline couldn’t get over the idea that Sebastian a
nd Talia were no longer business partners.
What did that mean?
Chapter Forty-One
“Two hundred thousand dollars?” Emmeline gasped. If she weren’t sitting down, she’d be wobbling on her knees.
Two hundred big ones.
Reward money for finding Claude.
Emmeline glanced over at Sebastian, who was on his iPhone. He seemed unaware at how shocked she was to hear the staggering amount that Helen Hu offered to any homeless shelter or soup kitchen that could help them find Claude and bring him home to his family.
Suddenly the back of Helen Hu’s RV felt stuffy, stifling, steamy. Emmeline closed her eyes. Leaned back against the vinyl seat.
“Money can open mouths,” Helen Hu said nonchalantly, as if she had used money before to buy information.
The door opened, and two men climbed in. They looked like oversized linemen in grungy clothes. Dressed to blend into the soup kitchen crowd, Emmeline supposed.
“Might not happen tonight, Helen,” one of them said. Emmeline thought his name could be Hugo, but she forgot. “We tried.”
“I know.”
The other man sat down next to Helen. “The volunteers told us that tomorrow evening after most evening church services, they might get a crowd. Extra bowl of soup for everyone if they attend church—morning or evening—and bring the program from the service.”
“Until then?” Helen asked.
“We just have to call it a night,” the first man said. “Come back tomorrow after church.”
“Well, tonight is the second night of nothing.” Sebastian stretched.
“Patience,” Helen replied.
Patience.
Emmeline needed more of that, even after five years of waiting for her brother to come home.
The night before, they had been at a homeless shelter in Conyers, having received tips from some volunteers that a man fitting the description had been spotted.
That hadn’t panned out.
Emmeline closed her eyes, prayed for calm and peace and God’s perfect will for her brother.
You know where Claude is, Lord. Show us where he is. Bring him home. We love him so much. We missed him so much.
“The family is sure that was him the photo,” Helen said. “Earl, your thoughts?”