by Amanda Tru
“Wait, Ms. Carlise.” Geneva implored. “If we can have just two minutes of your time, we can explain why we need to contact Mr. Normand. We don’t mean trouble for him in any way. We are just trying to locate one of his former employees, and he’s the only lead we have. You see, a little girl is dying, and she wants to see her daddy one last time. Mr. Normand’s employee is her daddy.”
Geneva could see that Ronni was torn. Her features still strained with impatience and irritation that they dared to waste her time, and yet a soft light shown from her gray eyes, making Geneva suspect that the no-nonsense woman possessed a heart. Maybe even more than that, this woman who likely knew everything about everyone on her client list was curious.
Ronni sat back down, perching on the edge of her seat. “What is the little girl dying of?”
While not an open invitation, Geneva took it. “Her name is Allie. She’s eight-years-old and dying of an aggressive form of leukemia. This is her second round with cancer, and her father took off during the first. She still thinks the world of him, and her wish is to see him before she passes. We tracked Jimmy Drew to Kentucky and then to here. Obviously, he’s no longer working for Normand Brothers Construction, but we’re hoping Mr. Normand can provide some information on where Jimmy went.”
Knowing a picture could tell the story better than Geneva’s best soliloquy, Geneva took out her phone and found a picture of Allie’s pale, beautiful face. She held it out to Ronni, who accepted it reluctantly. Geneva understood her hesitation. An actual picture made it all the more real. A faceless, dying child didn’t wrench the heart as much as seeing a smile that would soon be gone forever.
Ronni studied the picture. Though tension collected on her forehead, the rest of her face remained impassive.
Geneva watched the woman across from her carefully, trying to measure her reaction. Ronni Carlisle was fiftyish and quite obviously a successful realtor. She had that air about her. Her long bleach-blonde hair fell exactly where she had arranged it, and her smart, tailored attire dared not betray a wrinkle. She was a trim woman, probably carefully maintaining her weight with an iron fist the way she did everything else. Her office looked immaculate with awards lining the wall at perfect right angles, and everything around her arranged in exactly the right spot.
Geneva felt a kinship with her. This woman was a professional. She was driven and determined, and she didn’t tolerate anything out of its proper place in her life. The question was if her heart could overrule her head.
Ronni handed the phone back to Geneva, her furrowed brow suddenly relaxing. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help. But I cannot. There are privacy stipulations. It would not be ethical for me to share a client’s contact information without his express permission.”
“Then, can you contact him and obtain that permission?” Carter asked. “We can wait.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t disclose the details, but that isn’t possible at the moment,” Ronni replied briskly, her words short and professional.
“But you’re our last hope,” Geneva protested. “If we can’t find Mr. Normand, there is no way for us to locate Jimmy.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could do more. If the little girl has a donation or social media page, I will be happy to share it. I have a very healthy following. Here, let me give you my email information.” Ronni turned to her computer as if dismissing them. Geneva watched her bring something up on her computer screen and heard the printer start humming with the incoming job.
“What exactly do you suggest we tell Allie?” Carter asked, his words clipped and angry. “Should we tell her that we couldn’t find her daddy because Ronni Carlisle wouldn’t help?”
“I’m sure you can tell her whatever you think is best,” Ronni replied smoothly, taking the paper off the printer and setting it on her desk in front of her. “My hands are tied. If I were to give you that information, I could be in trouble. I have a full office of coworkers and clients who depend on me to follow the rules. People listen and watch me for guidance. I cannot bend in my duties.”
Geneva’s heart wrenched painfully, and yet she couldn’t really fault Ronni. She understood. As a doctor, she had to follow the rules and procedures, not all of which she always agreed with. Yet the purpose of many of those rules was the protection of others. In this case, it was a dying little girl who paid the price.
Ronni stood from her chair once again. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters that need my attention. Here is my card, it has my email if you wish to send me any more information about Allie’s case. I wish you the best in your efforts. Please know that I am praying that the mountains move for you to find Allie’s dad. I trust you can see yourselves out.”
She says she’ll pray. She just isn’t willing to help move the mountains herself.
Ronni set her card down atop the other printed sheet. Then she slid them both to the center of the desk. Without waiting for their reply, Ronni left through the open door. Geneva could hear her greeting others in the office, her voice traversing easily through the space.
Feeling utterly defeated, Geneva stood wearily. Not even knowing why she bothered, she reached out and picked up Ronni’s card from the desk. Her gaze fell on the sheet below it. The words faced her direction, almost as if they were meant for her to see.
Gary Normand
Below the name was an address and a phone number.
Geneva grabbed onto Carter’s arm as he started to turn toward the door. She wordlessly put her finger to her lips in a demand for silence, and then she pointed to the paper as if afraid it was a mirage that would disappear if she actually touched it.
Suddenly, everything made sense. Ronni had refused to cooperate for the sake of appearances and the benefit of the listening ears of the office. She’d even mentioned that others listened, watched, and depended on her to follow the rules. Geneva didn’t realize at the time that Ronni had meant that it was happening at that very second. While she said one thing, she’d done another. Ronni had printed off the information needed and left it on the desk “accidentally.”
Carter glanced over his shoulder and hurriedly snatched up the paper. He folded it and stuffed it into his pocket. Putting his hand to the small of Geneva’s back, he hurried out of the office. They wasted no time in leaving the building, and Geneva didn’t spot Ronni again.
Thank you, Lord! Geneva prayed, wishing that she could also thank the woman who had cleverly found a way to help them. Whether she knew it or not, Geneva felt sure that Ronni Carlisle had just answered her own prayer and moved one very big mountain.
“There’s nothing else we can do?” Geneva asked, pacing back and forth in the cramped hotel room.
“Just wait. Again,” Carter replied, running a hand wearily through his hair.
After returning to the hotel from Ronni’s office, they had stationed themselves in Carter’s hotel room and called the number for Gary Normand. No one had answered. Carter had left a message on the machine that picked up. They tried to wait, but with nothing to do but obsess, they only made it five minutes before trying to call the number again. Carter said the machine that picked up sounded more like a residence than a cell phone. With the hope that someone would pick up when they eventually returned home, they proceeded to call every five minutes for the next hour and a half.
At that point, Carter insisted that they give it a rest for the night. They found a restaurant nearby and ate dinner with only minimal conversation. After returning to the hotel, they had gone their separate ways. But, at eight o’clock in the morning, Geneva knocked on Carter’s hotel room again and requested that they try calling again.
Carter had already been awake a while and immediately began another sequence of attempted calls.
Geneva found a deck of cards, and they began playing a variety of games, including rummy, crazy eights, and spoons. Carter would set a timer for fifteen minutes. They’d play for a while, and when the timer went off, he’d pick up his phone and try the call again. By the ti
me a few hours had passed, they’d developed quite the routine.
So, it came as a shock when Carter’s standard call was actually answered.
Carter had recovered quickly and explained the situation to the woman on the other line. From the side of the conversation that she heard, Geneva realized he wasn’t speaking to Mr. Normand but to his adult daughter.
When he got off the line, Carter had immediately dialed a different number. Then he left another message, hung up, and declared that now they needed to wait for a call back from Gary Normand himself.
Of course, Geneva couldn’t accept that their only recourse was to wait. Yet again.
“Mr. Normand’s daughter told me that he is snowbirding in North Dakota and is unavailable to be reached,” Carter explained.
“What?” Geneva protested. “That doesn’t make any sense. Retired people snowbird from a place that’s cold to a place that’s warm in the winter. They don’t do it the other way around. No one snowbirds from southern California to North Dakota!”
“I’m just repeating what she said,” Carter said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “If you think about it. North Dakota is a border state with Canada. If Mr. Normand really is in legal trouble, maybe he’s giving himself an easy escape should the need arise.”
“Yeah, right,” Geneva scoffed. “He was in southern California. Escape to Mexico is just as viable an option here.”
Carter lifted his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say it made sense. I’m just repeating what the daughter said.”
“Fine, what else?” Geneva questioned. “He can’t be that unavailable. She obviously gave you a number.”
“That was only after I explained the situation and convinced her that what I wanted from her father really had nothing to do with him. I just needed help locating one of his employees. She even looked through her father’s company records to see if she could find anything on Jimmy Drew. She saw him listed as an employee she found no information about when his employment terminated or where he went. She finally gave me her dad’s current number, but she claimed cell coverage was spotty. She told me I could leave a message and that her father may or may not eventually return my call.”
“That doesn’t sound very encouraging,” Geneva said dully, gathering up the cards into a pile and putting them away. Somehow, she’d lost all interest in playing any more games. They’d already spent so much time waiting. Now they had to wait again without even knowing if or when they’d receive a call back.
They sat for several minutes, each one wrapped in his or her own thoughts.
“What if he doesn’t call?” Carter asked, finally breaking the silence.
His question immediately angered Geneva. Up to this point, Carter had seemed unwavering in his faith that things would work out and that they’d eventually find Jimmy. Now he dared to utter a traitorous question that never should have taken flight upon sound waves.
Before she could tell him so, Carter hurried to explain. “How long do we wait? Allie is failing, Gen. I spoke to the hospice nurse before you arrived this morning. She’s sleeping most of the time now, and the nurse doesn’t think her organs will last much longer. She’s down to days.”
Geneva shook her head in denial. “No. She has to make it to Christmas.”
Carter scooted his chair over to face Geneva where she sat on the bed. “I’m sorry, Gen, but that may not happen. We need to have a plan. We may not get Jimmy there to say goodbye, but I don’t want you to miss that chance, too. You need to be there, probably even more than Jimmy.”
“Did the daughter say how long it could be before her dad returns our call?” Geneva asked.
“No,” Carter said flatly. “She didn’t know if he even would. She said she’d try to call and leave him a message to vouch for us, but he only goes into town where he has reception a couple times a week.”
“So, it may not be today, or tomorrow, or the next day, or—”
“Ever.” Carter finished. His chocolatey eyes shown with warmth and tenderness, and he reached out to gently take Geneva’s hand in his. He studied their hands as they linked together and spoke quietly. “I’m sorry, Gen. I know you don’t want to hear this, but we need to be realistic. Even if Mr. Normand calls back, there’s no guarantee that he’ll know where Jimmy was headed next. In fact, it's very likely that he won’t know. Jimmy doesn’t make a habit of sharing his plans with others and doesn’t give a lot of notice before taking off. Even if Mr. Normand gives us a lead, we still have to follow it and locate Jimmy. We’ve already gone across the country and are no closer to locating him than the day we left.”
Geneva tugged her hand, trying to pull it away from Carter’s grasp, but he held fast, insisting on offering her the comfort she attempted to refuse.
“What about all the talk of faith and God’s timing,” Geneva accused. “We can’t just give up.”
“We won’t,” Carter assured. “But sometimes our goals and God’s goals aren’t the same things. Or rather, we think that the way to achieve those goals is different than the way God plans. We want to find Jimmy because seeing him would bring Allie comfort. But the point is to bring Allie comfort. Maybe God has a different way to achieve that same goal. Your presence also brings that little girl a great deal of comfort. I’m sure she wants you with her just as much or more than she wants her dad. She loves you. We can’t risk denying that comfort as we search for something elusive that we may not find.”
Suddenly, everything fell into place. “That’s why you came with me,” Geneva said with sudden insight. “You came to make sure I made it back to Allie in time.”
Carter smiled sadly. “That wasn’t the only reason, but yes. Kara asked me. She knows how stubborn you are and that you wouldn’t want to give up without succeeding. She also knows that Jimmy can be impossible to find and doubted we could convince him to come even if we could find him. When I called to ask about your plans, she asked me to make sure you came home in time for Allie.”
Geneva sucked in a breath roughly. She had achieved everything in her life through her stubborn will and determination. How was she supposed to let that go? How could she give up on what she’d set out to do?
Love. She could do it because she loved Allie more. She loved her enough to give up and be there for her at the end.
Geneva extracted her hand from his, and this time, he let her go. She spent a few minutes in silence, and Carter, for once, remained mute. She walked over to the window and looked outside, though she didn’t really see anything of the cold California landscape. Her mind turned over hundreds of possible scenarios, weighing the risks of each as she tried to find the balance between her stubborn willpower and her love for Allie.
“Noon tomorrow,” Geneva finally pronounced. “If we haven’t received a call by noon tomorrow, we’ll book a flight and go home.”
Carter nodded, his eyes brimming with admiration. Though he said nothing, it was almost as if he knew how difficult it was for her to not succeed, and yet he was proud of her.
“What will you do while we wait?” she asked, stretching her muscles and restlessly looking around the room.
Carter took his laptop out of his bag. “I need to get caught up on work. I have a long list of emails to sort through. What about you? We can meet for dinner if you want?”
“No, that’s okay,” Geneva said hurriedly. “I think I need to get out. No work for me. If you’re not planning to use it, I’ll take the car out. You can call if you hear from Mr. Normand. Otherwise, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Geneva…” Carter called, his voice almost a groan.
She didn’t even bother turning around. His tone of voice said it all. Here she was doing it again, transforming from the serious, professional Geneva to the party version he couldn’t stand.
And she didn’t care.
The need to get out and do something was real. If she didn’t find some release, she felt as if she’d suffocate. But she couldn’t explain that to him. He was th
e perfect machine of all work and no play. He ate stress for every meal and just hungered for more. He’d never understand.
Instead, she just walked out.
Recognizing the man standing beside the front doors of the hotel, Geneva’s step slowed.
“Where are we going?” Carter asked, keeping his tone casual.
Geneva lifted her eyebrow. “I don’t need a babysitter, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to go where I’m going. You have way too much work.”
Carter looked at her directly, fully accepting her challenge. “I’m not your babysitter, the work will wait, and wherever you go is the one place I most want to be.”
“Fine. But I’m driving.”
Their conversation stayed light on the drive, and Geneva refused to relinquish any clues about their destination. Finally, she pulled into a parking lot on the beach itself. After a few minutes, she found a spot and shut off the engine.
Carter looked around. “Okay,” he said. “Not exactly what I expected, but I’ll take a carnival over a night club any day of the week.”
Geneva rolled her eyes. “You really don’t know me at all. I only go to night clubs under extreme duress.”
They walked to the amusement park situated on the pier and went immediately to the ticket booth.
“Are we buying individual rides or getting the wristband pass?” Carter asked, reaching for his wallet.
“Oh, we’re going all in,” Geneva said. “But this one is my treat.”
Geneva purchased a wristband for each of them. Though Carter pleaded for mercy on the grounds of a weak stomach, Geneva didn’t listen to him, instead dragging him on every single ride the park offered. Carter handled the roller coaster and Ferris wheel well enough, but the swing-you-upside-down or drop-you-from-several-stories varieties did turn his face an interesting shade of green.
“Maybe we should feed you,” Geneva said, looking at him nervously as she lugged him off a second round of the elevator ride.