Visions of Hope

by Candace Murrow

  "Have you heard anything?"

  At the start of these conversations, her voice was always the same, matter-of-fact, as if she were reading a script.

  "Nothing, Tanya."

  "Are you doing anything or just lolling around?"

  He ran his hand through his hair and prayed for patience. "I've done all I can do for now. There are no leads. When are you going to get off my back?"

  She paused until he thought she might have hung up.

  "There's nothing to tell you." He knew what to expect next.

  "Why can't you do...?” Her voice trailed off, and she began sniffling.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and counted to ten, but she was still blubbering into the phone. He opened his eyes and sighed. "Don't cry, Tannie. We'll find her." He craved a break from always having to comfort his ex-wife, but he remained even-tempered. "Is there something I can do for you?"

  "I'm going to Paris for a shoot, and I'll be gone all week. I'll be at the same hotel as before, and you can reach me there. If there's any news, please call me."

  "I will."

  The sniffling began again.

  "Please, Tannie, don't cry. We'll find her. I know we will."

  "I know. I know. But I can't talk anymore. It's all too sad, the divorce, everything. I love you, Kipp."

  She hung up without asking anything about him, and their talks always made him lose the desire to do anything else. He shoved the newspapers off the couch and lay down with his hands behind his head.

  He loved that woman once. He loved her so much it hurt, but to hear her say she loved him, after what they'd been through--the lies, the betrayals, the loss of their daughter--didn't evoke the same feelings for him. Each time she repeated those words of love, he numbed out.

  He felt himself edging toward depression, but the thought of Libby offered him a lifeline. He recalled their airport meeting and remembered the arrangement to pick her up on Sunday. His attraction to her was perplexing, but the attraction was there. She was a contradiction--all business, yet tender-hearted. In comparison to Tanya, Libby was a vacation, something he desperately needed. For a moment he wished he could talk to her. Sunday seemed so far away.

  * * *

  At ten o'clock in the evening Libby entered her hotel room and locked the door. She'd asked for nonsmoking accommodations, but a telltale hint of cigarette smoke lingered from the previous occupant, and she fought the urge to light up. She wondered if that urge would ever go away.

  The room was similar to every other hotel room she'd occupied--queen beds, a desk and chair, a place to hang a few items of clothing with an iron tucked away on an upper shelf, and a full bath.

  She broke open a package of salt she'd taken from the restaurant downstairs and sprinkled a light dusting around the perimeter of the room to ward off any negative energy. She spritzed lavender oil over her bed.

  Drained from the energy of the crowds, she took a hot shower and changed into her nightgown. Although the temperature outside had climbed to one hundred degrees, the air-conditioned meeting rooms had been chilled all day. She looked forward to the warmth of the blankets.

  Her workshop had been a success, and another teacher had asked her to co-teach the next day--something unexpected. She welcomed a good night's rest, but when she switched off the light and shut her eyes, Kipp's face appeared to her in the darkness. She hadn't had time to give him a thought until now.

  He was going to pick her up at the airport tomorrow night, and she wondered how on earth he'd managed to convince her to go along with such an arrangement. Silently, she pleaded with him to get out of her mind and let her get the rest she needed to get through the next day.

  Sleep did come, but very early in the morning she woke with a start. The time was three-thirty. She lay back and reflected on the dream that had awakened her: A man and a woman were strolling along, holding hands with a little girl between them. Then the man and woman started walking in opposite directions, thus pulling the girl's arms. Suddenly, the girl's arms broke off, and her body floated up and away, like a helium balloon.

  The dream had to be about Kipp's child. When Libby's dreams were this vivid, they'd wake her to get her attention, and it meant she needed to take action, but she wasn't sure what her guides wanted her to do. Kipp had closed the door on further probing into his situation. As far as she was concerned, it was up to him to seek her help.

  She lay still, hoping to get more sleep, but by five o'clock she knew the night was over, so she rose and dressed for the day. Her eyelids were puffed, her nose stuffy, her face drawn, and she dreaded having to teach, even if the class was only two hours long. These conferences were losing their magic, and she looked forward to the end of the day. But the end of the day meant Kipp would be waiting for her at the airport.

  A twinge of excitement tickled her, as if some part of her were awakening at the prospect of having a man's attention. Her body was getting too carried away, and she vowed to control the unanticipated desire. Besides, Kipp was giving her a ride out of guilt and embarrassment, not out of interest or affection.

  At the end of the conference, Libby spoke to a few friends and teachers and slipped out of the lobby as soon as possible. Not wanting to miss the flight, she packed her bag and caught a cab to the airport extra early.

  She boarded on time, but the plane had technical difficulties, and it sat on the runway way beyond take-off time. Because of the busy summer season, every other plane was in service, and she had no opportunity to transfer to another flight. She wondered if Kipp would wait.

  By the time the plane left the ground, Libby's blouse clung to her, and beads of moisture littered her brow. All she wanted to do was nap, but the cabin was overpopulated with boisterous teenagers, and the beverage carts clanked in the aisles.

  She hadn't eaten since breakfast, and she'd promised to eat with Kipp. Exhausted, she wished she hadn't accepted the dinner invitation.

  * * *

  Kipp checked the arrival times and discovered Libby's flight was delayed. Estimated arrival time was nine-thirty, and he had over two hours to kill.

  Because of the late arrival time, he figured Libby might have chosen to eat earlier, so he went into a restaurant where people were chatting and lingering over meals, but when the waitress brought the menu, he changed his mind, suddenly worried Libby might wait to eat with him. He apologized to the waitress for taking up her time, sought the coffee stand nearby, and bought a blueberry muffin, a latte, and a Sunday paper. He absentmindedly ate his snack and lost himself in the events of the day.

  At nine-fifteen he wandered to the area where he'd arranged to meet her. Travelers streamed by him, pulling carry-on bags, with jackets and tote bags draped over their arms. Several teenagers rushed by, causing him to step back out of the way.

  All weekend he'd thought about Libby and about what their conversation would be like on the way home. He barely knew her, yet she'd already burrowed into his mind. She was different. She had an unusual and intimidating eccentricity, but he couldn't dismiss her.

  At the sight of her up ahead, his thoughts scattered. As she came toward him, she was scanning the area but hadn't spotted him yet. The way she wore her hair, chin-length and curvy, and her choice of clothes, conservative yet bold, made her stand out; she was a classy woman. When he waved to get her attention, she smiled in recognition.

  He took her carry-on bag and escorted her toward the exit to the parking garage. "Long day?"

  "I'm so sorry you had to wait. If I'd known--"

  "Don't worry about it," he said. "But I thought with your gift, you would have foreseen the delay." He hoped she would take that as a joke.

  "You'd think so, wouldn't you? Oh well, everything happens for a reason. I might not have accepted your offer if I had known."

  They walked down a long aisle of parked cars to get to the Jeep. He opened the door for her and stowed her bag in the backseat. He settled himself in the driver's seat and asked her if she was hungry.

&nb
sp; "You know, I'm so tired I think I'd rather skip dinner. Would you mind just taking me home?"

  "Of course. Why don't you put the seat back and rest?"

  "If you don't mind." She struggled with the lever, but the seat wouldn't budge.

  "It gets stuck. Let me help you." He leaned over to reach the handle, but adjusting the seat without touching her was like trying to hang a picture without touching the wall. His arm grazed her legs, and his face was level with her chest.

  The airplane smell permeated her clothes, but it couldn't mask the perfumed scent of her body, that heady scent of roses. He felt a rush of energy in his groin and heat in his neck and face. He wasted no time straightening up. Libby put her fingers to her lips and quickly turned toward the side window to suppress a grin.

  Leaving the airport, Kipp recovered enough to ask about the conference, and she chatted about the weekend. After they'd merged onto the freeway, she tilted her head back and shut her eyes. He drove a while, asked her another question, but she didn't answer.

  He fiddled with the radio until he found the classical station, then lowered the volume. She shifted sideways and leaned her head against the seat, her eyes still closed.

  He drove on. At one point he wondered if he wasn't interesting enough for her to stay awake, but he laughed at himself for having such a big ego. The truth was she was exhausted from the day.

  Though it was dark inside the car, he couldn't help glancing at her. It had been a long time since he'd been this close to a woman he cared about. Cared about? Were those his thoughts? Wasn't he getting carried away? She hadn't shown the least bit of interest in him, and already he wanted to reach out and touch her, to hold her hand.

  Earlier he'd admitted to himself Libby was different. That was true, but maybe he should qualify that and upgrade the remark to interesting. Yes, she was interesting, and so much more.

  The traffic had eased up by the time he approached the outskirts of Harbordale. He exited the freeway and followed the meandering road to her wooded retreat. She stirred when he turned onto the gravel road and pulled up to the house. She straightened up and yawned.

  Kipp lifted her suitcase from the backseat and walked her to the door. In the glow of the porch light, the lines around her eyes revealed her weariness.

  "I was terrible company," she said. "I'm sorry about dinner."

  "Asking you to do something after a long weekend wasn't a very smart idea," he said. "My fault."

  "Thanks for the ride home." She reached for the doorknob.

  "What about a rain check on dinner? How about tomorrow night or some other night this week?"

  She hesitated. "I can't really think straight right now."

  "I'll call you."

  "Thank you for driving me home." She opened the door and slipped inside.

  For a moment Kipp remained on the porch, mulling whether or not he'd been rejected. He wasn't sure. On the way down the driveway, he glanced back in time to see the porch light fade out.

  Once he turned onto the main road, a hollow feeling washed over him, and going home to an empty house gave him no comfort at all. He reached for his cell phone and headed for Charlie's.

  * * *

  Libby set her bag in the living room and took off her pumps. Today had been one of the longest days of her life. She tiptoed down the hallway in search of some peace and quiet in her nice warm bed. She clicked the bedroom door shut as quietly as possible so as not to wake her friend and snapped on the overhead light. Turning around, she let out a shriek.

  On the end of the bed with her arms crossed was Ellen. "You're not going to get by me tonight. Not before I get the Kipp and Libby report."

  "God, you scared me. If I wasn't awake before, I am now."

  "Good. Start talking." Wrapped in her snuggly robe, sporting her furry slippers, Ellen looked as if she were ready and willing to stay up all night if need be.

  "Can't this wait till morning?"

  "Hah! That's a good one." She tugged Libby's shirt sleeve until Libby gave in and sat down.

  "There's nothing to tell."

  "Like I said, that's a good one. Now spill."

  Libby relented and told Ellen about the late flight and the drive home.

  "How romantic. You even fell asleep."

  "It wasn't a date."

  "The hell it wasn't. A dinner is a date. So, when is he taking you out again?"

  "I don't know. I didn't commit to anything."

  Ellen bumped up against Libby. "You didn't even encourage him? You're so exasperating."

  "I can't get involved with him even if I wanted to. And I don't want to. He's a client."

  "Not anymore."

  "I have a feeling he'll be back for another reading, and I don't want any emotional issues to cloud my judgment."

  "Why do you think he'll be back for a reading?"

  "I can't tell you the details, but I had a dream last night, and I feel that it's very much tied to him, and he'll be back."

  "Do you want to know what I see in your future?"

  "Would it matter if I said no?"

  Ellen took hold of Libby's hand and traced her finger along one of the lines. "This has to do with romance. I think he'll come back, and the two of you will fall madly in love."

  Libby pulled her hand free and gave Ellen a push toward the door. "I need sleep, and you need to stop fantasizing."

  "I don't care, Libby. I see love in your future. I do. I do. I do." Ellen danced out of the room.

  Libby changed into her pajamas and crawled into bed. Her body ached from fatigue, but her mind would not shut down. She replayed the weekend, pondered the interesting people she'd met, and settled her thoughts on Kipp.

  She had to confess his presence at the airport uplifted her, and she got a kick out of the embarrassing moment he'd suffered while adjusting her car seat. If she hadn't been so tired, she was certain she would have enjoyed his company. But maybe it was best they hadn't talked. Getting close to Kipp, or any other man for that matter, was not in her future, despite Ellen's delusions.

  * * *

  Charlie answered the door in plaid pajamas and bathrobe, his curly hair disheveled. Kipp apologized for the late hour, and Charlie informed him he didn't have to go into the station early and encouraged him to come in. He picked up the newspapers that were scattered over the couch and offered Kipp a place to sit.

  Charlie settled in a recliner that looked as if he slept in it and swung the footrest up. "You like this neck of the woods, don't you? What are you doing here this time of night?"

  "I'm sorry I was such an asshole the other day. I wanted to make sure we were still on speaking terms."

  "If I remember correctly, we ironed all that out before you left, so cut the crap and tell me why you're really here."

  "You could always see through me," Kipp said. "That's what I like about you."

  "Want a beer?"

  "No, thanks. I'm going to drive home."

  "So, what's up?"

  "Well..."

  "Wait. Let me guess. Does this have anything to do with our Witch of Harbordale High?"

  "The one and only."

  "Did you take my advice and ask her to help you?" When Kipp wouldn't respond, Charlie slapped the side of his chair. "Damn. You're dating her, aren't you?"

  "I wouldn't call it that." Kipp shared the circumstances surrounding his time with Libby and his need to make amends for the insulting remarks he'd aimed at her.

  When he finished, a broad grin spread over Charlie's face. "So, what's your next move?"

  Kipp stared at Charlie with an innocent look.

  "Come on, man," Charlie said. "You hardly know the woman. You could have apologized over the phone. You wouldn't have made the effort to drive her home from the airport if you weren't looking to get to know her better. Shit. Anybody could see that."

  "It didn't start out that way. I thought she was a nut, remember?"

  "And now?"

  "I don't know for sure. The more I'm around
her, the more I think she's--"

  "What?"

  "Like everyone else."

  "You mean normal?"

  "More than normal. Interesting."

  "And what about hot?"

  "That, too," Kipp said.

  "If you think about it, she's not a raving beauty," Charlie said, "but she's got some kind of thing going for her. I can't put my finger on it."

  "Charisma?"

  "Something like that."

  Kipp sank deeper into the couch and heaved a sigh.

  "Are you here to get my approval to go out with her? Like you need some kind of confirmation that it's the right thing?"

  "I don't need that."

  "It sounds like you want me to say I don't think you're crazy for wanting to date someone like her, being a psychic and all."

  "Maybe I do."

  "Well, I say go for it, man."

  "She's not interested."

  "How do you know that?"

  "It felt like she was giving me the brush-off after I brought her home. She wouldn't commit to having dinner again. She said something about not being able to think straight and went inside."

  "Since when would that ever stop you, my man? You've always got what you wanted with women. They drape themselves all over you."

  "Not this one. She's independent."

  "So was Tanya."

  "Not in the same way," Kipp said. "Tanya was independent as far as her work, but once we laid eyes on each other, she clung to me like--"

  "A vampire?"

  Kipp knitted his brow. "This woman keeps her distance. I can't read her."

  "You're just not used to rejection, pal. You've had it great with women ever since high school. Hell, ever since junior high. You can't stand one woman in the world not throwing herself at you." Charlie's body rocked with laughter.

  "She's definitely not throwing herself at me."