by Amanda Tru
Though she wasn’t looking at Leo’s face, she could feel his intense stare even without eye contact.
“You pray for them?” Leo asked, his tone seeming to imply that he didn’t really believe what she’d said. “Are you serious? So, you’re a Christian?”
Leo grunted, stood from his chair, and lightly tossed the papers in his hand across the desk to Emma’s side. “I hate to break it to you, Emma. But those ornaments aren’t coming back. More than likely, they were tossed out, and your special little ornaments are broken and shattered all over a road somewhere or maybe in a dumpster. Those thieves didn’t care about them. They wanted the car. You prayed those prayers for nothing.”
Emma felt his words like they were daggers. For the second time today, her work was completely discounted and viewed with ridicule. What was the point of any of it when she obviously wasn’t achieving her goal, just making herself a laughingstock for both customers and bystanders?
Emma rocked back and forth a little in her chair, and Orion whimpered softly.
Leo came around the desk and ran a hand through his hair with a long-suffering sigh. “Look, I might be able to locate the car or arrest those who attacked you, but the ornaments I can’t do.”
Discouraged and not wanting to hear any more of his barbed comments Emma got up to leave. He didn’t understand, and she wasn’t going to convince him.
For Emma, making the ornaments gave her the opportunity to show God’s love in a simple thing of beauty that could hang on their tree as a symbol of the love that was poured out for them at Christmas. It was personal. She put much thought and care into each ornament and prayerfully wondered about the person who would hang it on a tree. She prayed for that person. Some ornaments she prayed slightly different prayers, but she always prayed that God would in some way use her ornament to remind them of His love. It truly was her ministry, even if nobody else realized the heart and effort she put into it. Nobody knew the prayers she prayed. Only God, and He was supposed to be the only one who really mattered anyway.
Not able to handle the ridicule on Leo’s face, Emma kept her eyes downcast, not even looking at him as she turned to the door.
“Can you forgive them?”
The strange tone in his words stopped her more than the words themselves.
“I don’t understand your question,” she stated quietly, turning back to face him.
“Those men attacked you, left you with a concussion, stole your car, and took the special ornaments that have the potential to ruin your business. Yet you said you’re a Christian. Christians are supposed to forgive, right? So, can you forgive them?” What about the person who hit you over the head? He could have killed you and will likely never be caught, apologize, or offer any retribution for what he did. Can you forgive him, too?”
He was mocking her. She was sure of it, but it wasn’t something she’d been taught to identify. Instead, it was all too familiar. It was in the cockeyed look of his eyebrows, his left brow raised to a higher peak than his right. It was the way his lip curled upward on one side. It was the cold gleam of eyes devoid of any humor.
She’d seen the look before. Countless times. When someone thought her strange, or she said the wrong thing at the wrong time, that same mocking look showed up.
Leo wasn’t just mocking her business and the fact that she prayed over her ornaments. He was mocking her faith.
At that realization, another question lazily floated through her head.
Who do you do it for anyway?
The hurt, frustration, confusion, and heartbreak drained away as if the plug had been let out of the sink, and she stepped forward into resolve. Her dad joked that Emma carried the personality of a daisy and the backbone of a redwood. Leo just pushed the daisy over enough that the redwood woke up.
She did it for Him. She did it for the One who heard her prayers. She did it so a little thing of beauty could somehow reflect the greater beauty of her Savior. Even if stolen ornaments never made their intended recipients, even if Emma didn’t make her orders on time, even if nobody else understood. She would have made the ornaments for Him anyway. Who was she to hold unforgiveness over losing something that wasn’t hers to begin with?
Lifting her head, she met Leo’s gaze directly, speaking firmly. “Yes, I do forgive them. Not only that, I think I’ll waste a few prayers on them as well.”
Before Leo could wipe the shock off his face and respond, Emma shut her eyes and prayed aloud. “Dear, Lord, you know I’m angry and hurt that my car and ornaments were stolen. Even though I will never get an apology from the thieves who stole them and hurt me, I still choose to forgive them. And I ask that you save them from themselves. I specifically pray for the one that hit me with the gun. Let him come to know you and bring him to salvation so he can stop being a thief, doesn’t hurt anyone else, and can serve you always.”
She opened her eyes to see Leo’s brown eyes wide and his mouth open slightly.
Thinking of something else, Emma’s own eyes slid shut once again, and she added, “And, Lord, if it isn’t too much to ask, can you please let me see my prayer answered. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
As Emma opened her eyes, her gaze landed on the papers spread across the desk, and she remembered why she was here in the first place. She reached over, grabbed a pen, and quickly signed the line at the bottom of the first paper on top. Not sure if she’d signed the right one, she still turned and strode to the door, flinging back a few words as cheerfully as possible. “Now, if you will excuse me, Chief Jacobs, I will let you get back to finding my ornaments.”
If only she could have managed to grip the door handle and open it, then she would have made a dramatic exit to be proud of. Instead, her shaking, sweaty palm turned over the smooth ball of the doorknob, leaving the door itself unmoved.
She tried again.
Still nothing.
On the third try, an arm came around her, reaching for the knob and pulling the door open gently.
Not even managing a “thank you” or even a glance of appreciation, Emma hurried out the door with Orion close beside her.
Keeping her gaze straight, she didn’t spare a backward glance because, at that moment, she didn’t want to see Leo Jacobs’ mocking gaze ever again.
Emma tapped the edges of her plastic seat with a frantic rhythm. With all her being, she hoped no one noticed and that her mom hurried. Sitting in the same police station waiting room where she’d been the night before did strange things to her. When her mom had suggested she run to the store for some groceries while Emma met with the police chief, Emma agreed, not realizing the waiting room could trigger anxiety and memories she’d rather forget. Also, she’d had no idea that her meeting with Leo would be so upsetting. The combination proved almost debilitating, and she was very quickly running through all of her coping techniques.
The fact that Officer Kirk kept glancing worriedly at her from the front desk about every ten seconds only added to her discomfort.
After naming all seventy-eight constellations with her mom still not in sight, Emma dug her dad’s old phone out of her purse. Even though it wasn’t in great shape, her parents had insisted she take it until she bought a new one, though Emma hadn’t anticipated using it. With her finger poised over the button to call her mom, Emma changed her mind. Her mom would be back as soon as possible, and Emma didn’t want to bother her while she was driving.
Instead, she opened up another app and decided to check her email. While she had checked the store website earlier, she hadn’t checked her email.
She scrolled through the new messages. Finding one that wasn’t junk mail, she clicked on it and found that it was a request for a custom order. While she loved to do custom orders, the experience from last time with the bad review made her more than a little nervous as she read the request.
The email, written by an 11-year-old boy named Woong, asked her to make an ornament for his adoptive mom. He even said he’d pay her with money he’d earned.
But all of her joy in her work had been drained out of her in the last 24 hours. She didn’t know that she could do it. What if the project took too much time and work? What if she didn’t get it right, and he and his mom were disappointed.
Emma reread the email three times. This sounded like more work than she wanted to do right now. Woong was adorable, but he didn’t even know what he wanted. She should refuse and recommend a different artist who could make him a custom ornament.
But she didn’t have the heart to refuse a boy who had chosen her to make an ornament for someone he loved so much. Despite her reluctance, her heart didn’t want another artist to make this ornament. She wanted the artist to be her.
Emma shook her head, arguing both sides in her mind to the point that the pain medication couldn’t keep up with her worsening headache. She should refuse. It’s what made sense. She already had too much work to do with making replacement orders for the shipments and then fulfilling the custom orders she’d already agreed to make.
Custom orders she’d already agreed to make…
Emma’s eyes flew wide. Oh no! She’d agreed to do a custom order right before the incident at the church last night, and she’d completely forgotten it until now.
The ring! He gave me the ring for the ornament. I must have left it in my car. My stolen car!
Oh, no! Lord, please, no!
The wave of nausea crashed over her with such severity that she felt like melting to the floor.
Brooke. I need to talk to Brooke!
Emma yanked herself off the chair and rushed over to Officer Kirk. “Excuse me, I’m supposed to meet my mom here, but I have to go. When she comes in, please tell her that she can pick me up at Brooke Hutchins’ shop.”
Not waiting for a response, Emma held Orion’s leash securely, hurrying out the door and down to the street. She walked the few blocks at such a brisk pace, she almost didn’t notice any headache or dizziness. Emma pushed open the door to the Out of the Blue Bouquet, alerting the tingling of little musical bells above her head. Seeing Brooke standing near the corner talking to someone, she hurried up to her.
“Brooke, I lost the ring!” she exclaimed, her voice breaking. “The one your uncle gave me yesterday for the ornament. I had it, but then my car was stolen. Brooke, it’s gone! What am I going to do!”
Both Brooke and the woman beside her looked at Emma in surprise. Something clicked, and Emma just realized what she had done. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have interrupted you speaking with a customer.” Emma took a step back and ducked her head, but not before she recognized the older woman talking to Brooke as Mrs. Ilene Kendall. Everyone in town knew the affluent woman and her reputation for being difficult to please.
Now, both Brooke and Mrs. Kendall must think the absolute worst of her, and they were probably right! Even Orion seemed to want nothing to do with her. Feeling the tug of his leash, Emma released it so he could head to his favorite off-duty position snoozing by the heater near the front counter.
“I’ll just wait until you’re done,” Emma whispered, wringing her now empty hands in front of her.
“Don’t be sorry!” Mrs. Kendall quickly responded. “Your issue sounds like it needs more immediate attention than mine. Miss Hutchins, I will call you back with the address for those flowers as soon as I verify with the funeral home that it is correct.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Kendall,” Brooke said warmly. “I will have the flowers ready to be delivered tomorrow in Brighton Falls. You’re sure you wouldn’t rather have me place the order with a florist already in the city?”
“Oh, no.” The older woman shook her head with certainty. “You are the best, Brooke. If you don’t mind making the delivery, then you’re the one I want.”
“It’s no problem,” Brooke assured. “I make deliveries to Brighton Falls quite frequently, but I know some customers prefer the larger floral companies there.”
“I prefer you.” With that matter settled, Mrs. Kendall nodded to Emma. “Now, why don’t you help this young lady find that ring!”
With wide eyes, Emma watched Mrs. Kendall until she left through the door to the shop.
“Wasn’t that Ilene Kendall?” Emma asked before Brooke had a chance to say anything.
“Yes, it was.”
“She’s different than I remembered. I guess I haven’t paid much attention when I’ve seen her at church. She seems…” Emma didn’t quite know how to label it.
“Happier,” Brooke finished with a smile. “She seems happier. I think finding out that Kate Camden is her granddaughter has made a complete difference in the lives of both her and her husband. Kate is wonderful with them, and it’s like she has given them a new reason to live.”
Emma nodded. She had heard bits of the story around town, but she’d never felt brave enough to talk to Kate directly about it.
“Emma, are you talking about the ring Uncle Wayne gave you yesterday afternoon for the ornament he wants you to make?” Brooke asked, addressing Emma’s reason for being there.
“Yes! That’s it!” Emma moaned. “After I left here, I went to the church, and my car was stolen. I haven’t yet told the police a ring was inside, and I don’t know what I’m going to do!”
“Emma, the ring wasn’t inside your car,” Brooke said quickly.
Emma froze. “It wasn’t? How do you know? I didn’t stop anywhere else between here and the church.”
“I know because I have the ring. Don’t you remember? You didn’t want to take it with you since you had to stop by the church, so you asked me to keep it in my safe here at the store until you were ready for it. Do you want to take it now?” While she spoke, Brooke walked into the back room, headed to the safe in the corner.
Emma followed, hearing what Brooke said, but too afraid to believe it.
Brooke entered a few numbers on a keypad, and the safe door clicked open. She reached in, drew out a small, velvet box, and flipped it open to hold out to Emma. A diamond ring winked up at her.
Emma gagged on her tears, unable to stop the hiccuping sobs from clawing up her throat and resulting in a gasping, ugly cry. Emma hadn’t cried at all with the events of the last twenty-four hours, and now the relief of seeing the ring safe and sound overwhelmed her.
“Oh, honey,” Brooke cooed. “Everything is okay. How about I just put the ring back in the safe for now, and you can pick it up when you are feeling up to working on Uncle Wayne’s ornament.”
“I’m sorry,” Emma gasped brokenly. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m just so relieved.” Despite her efforts, Emma’s tears continued, and as she watched, Brooke’s expression looked worried and almost as miserable as Emma’s.
“Can I give you a hug?” Brooke asked as if she couldn’t hold back any longer.
Emma nodded, desperate for some kind of comfort that would make the sobs stop.
Brooke quickly wrapped her arms around Emma, making soothing sounds and drawing her close. Less than thirty seconds later, Brooke released her at just the right time. The hug was just long enough to offer much-needed comfort without being too long to set off Emma’s discomfort.
“I don’t remember giving you the ring for safe-keeping, but I’m glad I did,” Emma said, taking deep breaths to calm the weakening shudders.
“Emma, you had a concussion. Don’t be too hard on yourself. How are you doing today? I felt terrible that I couldn’t come stay with you last night.”
“That’s okay. I’m feeling better today, though I’m still tired and have a headache. Chief Jacobs stayed with me last night and made sure I got my medication, so you shouldn’t feel bad for not being there.”
Brooke’s eyes flew wide, and her hand came up to cover her mouth in an expression of surprise. “Chief Jacobs? Oh, Emma, I’m so very sorry!
I should have found someone else to stay with Miss Timmons. I had no idea. Are you sure you’re ok?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Emma was confused. Why would knowing Leo took care of her last night seem to make Brooke more upset?”
“It’s just that Leo Jacobs is kind of like how Mrs. Kendall used to be. He doesn’t seem very happy and sometimes takes that out on those around him.”
Emma thought, trying to interpret what Brooke was saying. Her mind went back to witnessing Leo chew out officer Kirk last night and then the loud encounter he had with the officer at the station today.
“He’s mean?” Emma asked.
Brooke winced, and Emma wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. “Sometimes. Like I said, he just doesn’t seem happy. I’ve never seen him be especially patient or kind to others. That probably comes a little with the work he’s in. He’s supposed to be tough, but I worried that he wouldn’t be especially sensitive to you and might hurt your feelings.”
“He wasn’t mean. At least, I don’t think so. He’s not nice, like you, of course, but I don’t know many men, so I thought some of that was because he’s a man. Other than my dad, I don’t know many men, so he’s almost like an alien to me, I guess.” Emma shrugged. “I don’t know what to expect and probably won’t know if he behaves differently from other aliens of the male species.”
Brooke laughed. “Emma, you understand things much better than you give yourself credit for, and I think you phrased that perfectly. From my experience, Leo Jacobs is a little more caustic of an alien than most other men.”
“Caustic: Sharp, bitter, scathing, sarcastic, abrasive,” Emma rattled off.
“Yep,” Brooke nodded firmly. “That definition just about covers it.”
Emma shrugged. “I think he got mad at me a couple times, but at least he didn’t yell like he did at the other officers. I’m pretty sure he got angry with me when I was at the station today. I didn’t mean to frustrate him, but I want him to find my stolen ornaments. He’s focusing on the car, and I want my ornaments back.”
