by Leah Atwood
“Kara, what do you mean by saying I should go to Hawaii ‘anyway?’”
My eldest sister cleared her throat. “Honey, a tropical island can soothe your heart in a way not much else can, considering the circumstances. What’s the difference in whether or not you think about things either here or there?”
“No,” I said. “I need to be here for whatever happens.” I would not under any circumstances mention the thought of planning a funeral, but the longer Ryan was missing, the more those thoughts would loom as an eventual possibility.
While I silently thanked my sisters for not using words like sulk, mope, stew, or—Heaven forbid—grieve, I wasn’t in the best frame of mind. These two women had a unique talent for setting my nerves on edge without the added circumstances of Ryan’s situation, for lack of a better word. It was difficult to know what to call it. Only the Lord held the answers at the moment. I just had to try and be patient and wait for His timing. Mom used to have a sign hanging above the kitchen sink that read, God Grant Me Patience, But Hurry! I could identify.
“I asked God to give me a sign.”
Staci snapped her gaze to mine. “What do you mean? Like a burning bush or something?” She shook her head. “God doesn’t give people signs anymore, does He?”
“Why not?” I couldn’t help my smile. “Relax, Staci. I’ve never asked Him for a sign before.” Why did I feel the need to defend myself? “I’m not testing Him, or demanding anything of Him. It’s more reassurance that Ryan’s okay.”
“‘And all things you ask in prayer, believing, you will receive,’” Kara quoted from the Book of Matthew.
“I think the key word in that verse is believing.” I watched as the salon technician lifted my right foot from where it’d been soaking in paraffin wax.
“Agreed,” Staci said. “I admire your optimism, Ellie.”
Kara spoke again. “Remember when Karen Hicks saw that hummingbird land right outside her kitchen window? She interpreted it as a sign that her daughter would be okay.”
“Karen is also one egg short of a dozen.” Staci grunted. “Better make that a couple of eggs.”
Kara half-laughed, half-scoffed. “That’s an unkind thing to say. Poor Karen was in that car accident a few years ago…”
I tuned out my sisters’ chatter and willed the phone in the pocket of my jeans to ring.
“Why isn’t Maura here? Wasn’t she supposed to join us?” Kara eyed her fresh nail polish, a muted shade of cranberry that would coordinate nicely with the gowns she, Staci, and Maura would wear in the wedding.
“She was planning on it,” I said. “She’s helping Nick file a new probate with the court today. After that, she’ll be freed up until after the wedding.”
Staci arched her brows. “Speaking of Maura and Nick, I hear they were getting pretty cozy in the corner booth at that new deli in town the other day.” She snapped her fingers. “What’s the name? It’s right on the tip of my tongue.”
“Petrowich’s Deli. And they’re dating.” My announcement made both my sisters sit up straighter. The woman working on Kara’s feet shot her a frown. “If she can get away, Maura’s meeting us for lunch at The Soda Shoppe. You can ask her your questions then.” Maybe it would take the attention away from me and give me another welcome focus.
I handed the bottle of pale blue polish to the nail technician. The color might be a bit untraditional, especially for a Christmas wedding, but I’d decided that’s what I wanted. The shade was soft and classy with a hint of silver sparkles. Call it my personal stamp of individuality. In the back of my mind, I remembered that Ryan told me once he thought the pastel blue color was sexy, especially on my toes. Given what was happening now, not even my outspoken siblings would dare to defy me. As I watched her start to paint my nails, I thought how gorgeous the color would look with Hawaiian sand sifting through my toes.
A bright flash outside the large front window startled me. I turned my head toward the sidewalk outside and was almost blinded by another flash. I shielded my face with my forearm. Too late. They’d already snapped their photos. I could see the headlines now: Bride Who Won’t Give Up Gets Pre-Wedding Pedicure. No, that would be too boring, not sensational enough. Something like Brave Bride Spits in the Face of Despair. Wow. I’m in advertising, and even I wouldn’t read an article with a headline like that. Times are tough, and I’m obviously off my game.
“Reporters.” Marcella, the manager of the spa, flew across the room and pulled down the window shade with an emphatic tug. “Nosy people! Why can’t they mind their own business?”
“I’m sorry, Marcella.”
Marcella waved her hand as if dismissing my comment. “I don’t care. It’s you I’m worried about, sweetie.”
“Why would reporters want to—?” When Staci gave her a knowing look, Kara stared at me. “They’re following you around, Ellie?”
I breathed out a sigh. “That would seem to be the case.”
Staci perked up again. “It’s like you’re a real celebrity or something. That’s pretty awesome.”
Kara grunted. “Staci, a little more sensitivity might be nice. Need I remind you that poor Ellie’s fiancé is missing? Her misfortune is no reason to get excited.”
“Your story has captured the imagination of everyone in the Cleveland area, that’s for sure,” Marcella said. She’d moved across the room and stood over the shoulder of the woman painting my nails. I silently willed Marcella to back off since the nail technician’s hand shook, no doubt from nerves.
“Marcella, can I please get a bottle of flavored mineral water? Any flavor. I’ll pay you.”
“Sure, but I won’t take payment from the bride-to-be.” When Marcella walked into the other room, the woman at my feet gave me a grateful smile.
“How did things go this season with Perchance to Dream?” Kara asked next.
Grateful for the change of topic, I told them some of the highlights. Both Kara and Staci told me they were proud of me. Maybe they were being extra nice to me because of circumstances, but I enjoyed the camaraderie. When they weren’t busy being bossy, my sisters could be quite caring and compassionate. Marriage and motherhood have softened them both in some ways.
My tension eased as we talked quietly together while waiting for our manicures and pedicures to dry. They told me about the latest adventures of my nieces and nephew.
“We’re still getting together in January, right?” I took a sip of the mineral water Marcella brought to me.
Staci laughed. “Of course, we’ll be there. But we also insist on cooking.”
“Hey, I’m getting a lot better at this cooking thing,” I protested. “Ryan is going to be amazed by how domestic I am.”
Kara gave me a nod of approval. “Mom said you’re becoming a master with the chicken dishes. Thanks for watching over her, by the way. I know the holidays are especially rough for her.”
“Welcome, but I think Mom can take care of herself.” Best not to share that Mom is now more or less dating her boss (she’s also specifically mentioned she hasn’t yet told Kara and Staci). Unless Mom shocks me in the next day or so and announces her intentions to bring Dr. Phillip to the wedding. I don’t believe she will; she confided that she didn’t want to upstage my special day. I told her to do whatever her heart desires, but she said she’d prefer to honor Dad’s memory and not bring someone else. I guess there are several ways to look at it, but I respect her decision either way. She needed time after Dad’s death, but it’s been six years. I’ve seen a hint of a twinkle in her eye, and it’s quite nice.
“I can help you with the beef recipes, if you want,” Kara said, interrupting my thoughts.
Where was Kara when I was struggling with beef bourguignon a few weeks ago? Didn’t matter. She was a great cook. I gave her my best smile. “You’re on. I would appreciate your expertise.”
“I thought Mom would join us here at the spa.” Staci lifted her foot and turned it first one way and then the other to admire her fresh ped
icure.
“She told me she wanted us to have this time together. She’s coming in later with Maura.”
Kara blew on her fingernails as if that would speed the drying time. “We’re here for you. Ryan’s coming back. We’re moving forward with all the plans, including the rehearsal on Sunday night at the church and…everything else.”
“Thank you,” I said. I appreciated Kara’s words more than she could know. “I know it might seem like a pipe dream, especially now, and the more time that passes—”
“The more time that passes, then the closer it is to Ryan’s return,” Staci said.
I looked over at Staci. If we didn’t have freshly painted nails, I would have clasped her hand in mine. Kara’s, as well.
I’ve never loved my sisters more.
“I’m glad you’re my family,” I told them. I might not always feel that way, but deep down, we share a deep, abiding love.
We’d get through this together.
You are not alone, child.
I love those sweet whispers in my heart, giving me incredible comfort.
I am with you always.
Oh, how glad I am about that.
Chapter 27
~~♥~~
Maura made a welcome appearance at The Soda Shoppe an hour later as I sat with Kara and Staci. Not that it had been awkward. Both of my sisters could talk to a wall and be perfectly okay with the lack of response. Today I appreciated that particular quality.
“Hey,” I said as Maura slid into the chair beside me. “Did you get the probate filed?”
“Sure did. By the way, Marion Sanders wanted me to tell you she’s got her whole prayer circle, knitting circle, and every other circle she’s involved with, praying for you and Ryan.”
“Thanks. That’s a whole lot of circles.”
Lisa, one of The Soda Shoppe’s long-standing servers, came over to take Maura’s order and asked me if I wanted something else to eat. “I’ll take a carryout box, please.” I caught Maura’s look. “I’ll eat when I hear that Ryan’s okay. Until then, I can’t.”
Thankfully, neither of my sisters nor Maura said anything. Maura slipped her hand over mine and squeezed.
“You should have seen the reporters who followed us from Joelle’s on the way here,” Staci told Maura. The latter’s brows raised, and she bumped my knee beneath the table.
I waved my hand. “Nothing worth discussing, and I didn’t talk to them.”
To keep up appearances as much as anything else, I joined in the discussion of final wedding details. That odd sensation came over me again—as though I was peering in from the outside, a physical participant without being fully involved in what was happening around me. I’m quite sure a lack of sleep had a bit to do with that odd feeling.
Maura asked for the ketchup and then discovered the bottle on the table was empty. The sound when she squeezed the bottle made a little boy laugh. He sat with a woman, whom I assumed was his mother, at a table close to the front counter. I knew the family was new in town, but I hadn’t met them yet.
Needing something to do—and to escape Staci’s not-so-subtle suggestions for my wedding night etiquette—I hopped up from my chair so fast the chair grated against the tile floor. I took my sweet time walking to the counter with the empty ketchup bottle. As I waited for the bottle to be refilled, I drummed my fingers on the counter before remembering I shouldn’t do that. I needed to protect my fresh manicure.
Behind me, I heard Lisa taking the lunch order from the little boy and the woman with him.
“Honey, what sounds good to you today? They have hot dogs, grilled cheese, chicken tenders.”
After a short pause, I heard a sweet little voice ask, “Do you have fried egg sandwiches?”
I froze. Blood rushed to my head. Blinking hard a few times, I focused on the illuminated retro clock behind the counter while I listened to what was being said at the table behind me. My pulse started to race, and my palms suddenly felt clammy.
Eavesdropping or not, I had to know.
“You know, we used to have a little boy come in and ask for those all the time, too. I’m sure I can convince the cook to make one for you. How do you like the eggs cooked?”
“So the inside’s not all gross and runny.”
“Over hard, then. Anything else on it?”
“Cheese. American and not that stinky Swiss stuff with holes.” Hearing that comment, I slapped my hand over my mouth. Ryan hates Swiss cheese.
“Maybe a little mayonnaise, too?” That question came from the woman.
I hope I thanked Tom Larkin, the owner of The Soda Shoppe, after he handed me the full ketchup bottle. I think I did. I gave the little boy a big smile as I passed by their table and stumbled back to my chair. Dropping into it, I sat as though in a daze.
“What’s up? Are you okay?” Maura asked while Staci and Kara gave me curious looks.
I burst into tears.
Maura grabbed a handful of napkins from the dispenser on the table and handed them to me.
“Honey, it’ll be okay,” Kara said as both she and Staci got up and came behind my chair, one on either side of me. They put their arms around me, hugging me tight while Maura put her hand on my arm.
“Did you get a phone call or something?” Maura asked.
“No,” I said, through more tears. I blew my nose—honked was more like it—and then sniffled some more. “The little boy over there by the counter… Please don’t stare at him, but he said…”
Kara grunted. “Did he say something to upset you?”
“No, no.” I gulped and tried to say more but couldn’t.
“Then what is it?” That question came from Staci. “Tell us, Ellie. We’re here for you, sweetie. Whatever you need.”
I drew in a deep breath. “I just got my sign.” I looked up at my sisters and then at Maura. “Ryan is okay. I know he is. God just gave me His sign. Clear as a bell.”
“That little boy?” Kara glanced over at him, clearly puzzled.
“He doesn’t look like Ryan,” Staci observed. “What happened?”
Nick burst through the front doors of The Soda Shoppe. He glanced over the lunchtime crowd as if searching for someone. Maura waved to him. “Nick! We’re over here.”
A huge grin spread over his face when Nick’s gaze rested on me. “They found them, Ellie! They found them!” Nick pumped both fists in the air. “All of Ryan’s team is accounted for and safe.”
Tears streamed down his face. “Ryan’s okay, and he’s coming home!”
Chapter 28
~~♥~~
Cheers broke out across the restaurant as I cried tears of joy. The servers wiped away their tears and called out congratulations. Everyone clapped and the place erupted in a buzz of talking, laughing, hugging, and back-slapping. Maura and Nick hugged and kissed. Staci and Kara cried and hugged me again. Many of the patrons rose to their feet and rushed over to me like a gloriously crazed flash mob.
All I could do was close my eyes and absorb the best news of my life. As always, Nick had great timing. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. I thought my head might explode if my heart didn’t burst first.
Nick pulled up a chair at our table to give us the details. The chopper had developed mechanical problems, and the team parachuted out with seconds to spare. Ryan had twisted his ankle and sprained his arm, but otherwise, he was fine. They’d been surrounded by enemy fire, and they’d escaped into a cave for almost 18 hours before it was safe to be rescued.
I listened and nodded, overcome with such a sense of gratefulness like none I’d ever felt in my entire life.
My cell phone rang with a number I didn’t recognize. Should I answer?
“Answer it, Ellie. Might be Ryan,” Nick said. Now that he mentioned it, the international area code preceded the telephone number.
“This is Ellie Franklin.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Nick waving his arms and demanding that everyone be quiet. When Nick Sullivan speaks, people listen.
I heard a crackling sound on the line and static. “Ellie? It’s me, baby.”
Putting my hand over my mouth, I cried out. The voice of my love. The voice I’d hoped to hear. The voice I’d prayed to hear once more, even if only for a heartbeat.
“Ryan? Where are you?” Tears ran down my face. All the ladies at the table shed tears, and Nick’s eyes were wet. People clapped again, but softly this time. More tears were shed all around The Soda Shoppe. Some embraced their loved ones. The little boy happily ignored us all and devoured that precious fried egg sandwich. With American cheese and mayo.
“At the hospital currently. Sorry, Sass, but this was the first time I could call you.”
Alarm shot through me. I gasped. “Are you okay?” That question seemed rather silly, in a way, but it was my first reaction.
“Just a twisted foot and arm and some minor cuts and bruises. Otherwise, I’m fine except for a little worse for wear.” I heard faint sounds on the other end of the line that made me suspect Ryan was shedding a few tears, too. In the midst of my joy, my heart ached for him. Will he be traumatized after his harrowing brush with death? He sounded fine but exhausted, as was to be expected.
“God saved us, Ellie. There’s no other explanation. I’m sure Nick told you what happened, but God led us straight to a cave, and we stayed there until we could be rescued. While we were there, we prayed, and one of the team members accepted Christ. Nothing like death staring a man in the face to make him acknowledge his mortality.”
“Praise God,” I said, wiping away more tears. Happy tears. The best kind of tears. I’m tired of crying. From now on, I would only shed tears of joy and happiness.
“They’re transporting us to Frankfurt as soon as they can. Hold on, Ellie. I’m going to do everything I can to get back to Cade’s Corner on schedule for the wedding. I wouldn’t miss marrying you for anything.”
