The Prodigal Heart

by Karen Cogan

  Wednesday afternoon, Rachel and Terri sat in the back office, going over accounts. Rachel studied the numbers. "We're making ends meet, but not getting rich, huh?"

  "That's okay. I never expected to get rich tutoring."

  "Me either. But between the two of us, I think we're going to be able to pay the rent."

  Terri hesitated, biting her lip. "You know, Rachel, I may not be your business partner forever."

  A sinking feeling settled into Rachel's stomach. She started to ask what Terri meant, then paused when the bell on the door rang.

  Nina had arrived. "Ricky's here if anyone's interested," she called.

  "I'll be right there." Getting to her feet, Rachel gave Terri a quick glance. "When I finish this session I want you to tell me what's on your mind."

  She hurried to the front and noticed Nina had not stayed. She'd left Ricky standing in the doorway, his dark eyes downcast.

  "What's wrong, Ricky? Did you have a bad day at school?"

  He shook his head. "I was bad. Grandma's mad at me."

  "Tell me about it." She drew him toward the cubicle where he did his work. When they had sat down, she leaned forward, waiting expectantly.

  "We went by Grandma's house because I had to go to the bathroom. I left my backpack there and we had to go back to get it. Grandma says I can't remember anything."

  His long lashes blinked back tears.

  She gave him a quick hug. "Everybody forgets things sometimes. Maybe your grandma was having a bad day."

  "I gave her a headache," he agreed.

  "I doubt it, honey. She probably already had a headache and that made her feel like fussing at you. You didn't do anything bad."

  She watched him a moment. He seemed to be thinking.

  "I wish you were my grandma."

  She laughed. "That would make me older than I already am."

  Ruffling his hair, she asked, "Are you ready to get to work?"

  He nodded slowly. "Okay."

  They looked over his weekly papers and the notes with happy faces drawn by Mrs. Jeffries. Rachel was pleased with the progress he'd made catching up with the class. If he stayed on his medicine, he wouldn't need her help much longer.

  When they were finishing a vowel game, she gave his right forearm an encouraging squeeze. He drew back in pain. "Ouch."

  "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

  Tears welled in his eyes. He shook his head, holding his arm near his body.

  "What's wrong with your arm?"

  "I hurt it." Tears ran down his cheeks.

  "How?" She gently drew his arm toward her.

  "I burned it."

  She rolled up his sleeve to reveal an angry slash of red across his baby-soft skin. "What happened?"

  He looked frightened. "I burned myself."

  "On what?" She watched him closely.

  "On Grandma's curling iron."

  Her thoughts flew back to one of their first sessions. She had cautioned him about touching his grandma's curling iron. He was a bright child, too bright to have done it again. The terrible suspicion that had lain nameless in her mind took form.

  "Did your Grandma do this to you? Did she do this when she was angry?"

  He pulled his arm away, attempting to hide the mark.

  "You can tell me, Ricky. It's okay."

  “No!” He scrambled out of his chair and ran head-long into Terri who had stepped out from her cubicle. Blocking his flight, she stared wide-eyed from Rachel to the sobbing child.

  "What's going on?"

  Ignoring the question, Rachel reached out and pulled Ricky gently onto her lap. "It's okay. It's okay," she crooned softly. Meeting Terri's eyes over his dark hair, she shook her head.

  When his sobs slowed, she spoke to him softly. "I want to help you, but you have to tell me what happened. If someone is hurting you, I want to make them stop."

  "I can't. If I tell anybody the police will come and take me away. I won't ever see my dad again."

  "That's not true. The police won't take you away. Who told you they would?"

  "Grandma. She said if I told what she did when I was bad, I'd get taken away and locked in jail and I couldn't live with Dad."

  "That's not true. Did your Grandma do this to your arm?"

  He sniffled and nodded. "It doesn't hurt so much now. But when she pushed me, I broke my arm."

  Rachel sucked in her breath, horrified at what she was hearing. She had guessed Nina wasn't the perfect grandmother, but never guessed it had gone so far.

  "What else does she do?"

  "One time, she made me drink this stuff that made me sick."

  "That's it. I'm calling the police," Terri announced.

  Rachael felt Ricky stiffen in her arms. "They won't take you, Ricky. I promise. They'll talk to your grandmother and tell her to stop hurting you. You want her to stop, don't you?"

  "Uh huh. But I don't want to go to jail." He was sobbing again.

  Amidst the sobs, she heard the bell on the door and knew Nina had returned. With a nod to Rachel, Terri headed to the back room to call the police.

  Hearing his sobs, Nina plodded to the cubicle and glared at Rachel. "What have you done to Ricky?"

  "What have I done?" Rachel struggled to control the anger that boiled in her heart. "I haven't done anything. It's what you've done. You don't punish a child by burning his arm or pushing him down stairs or making him throw up. You're not fit to be a grandmother."

  Despite the rouge, Nina's face turned pale. Her mouth dropped open, eyes darting from Rachel to Ricky. Then she seemed to re-group. "Come on Ricky. Let's go home before you tell any more lies."

  Clasping the child, Rachel said, "Do you think I would release him to you? You're not taking him anywhere. We've already called the police."

  Nina's narrowed eyes reminded Rachel of the face of a gunfighter in a movie. "It's lies. All lies. Do you think Jonathon will believe you? He'll know you made it all up so that you could get rid of me. With me out of the way, they'll be no one to remind him of Eva. That's what you want, isn't it?"

  "He'll believe me. All he has to do is look at Ricky's arm."

  Nina pointed a stout finger. "I'm leaving, but this isn't the end of it. No one's taking my grandson from me. No one. You'll be sorry you started this. So will Jonathon." She glared at Ricky. "And so will you."

  Ricky shivered in Rachel's arms as his grandmother turned and trod to the door.

  Terri arrived breathless from her phone call. "I called the police. Should I try and stop her?"

  Rachel shook her head. "No. They can question her at home. I'm going to call Jonathon."

  She reached his secretary and identified herself, bristling at the familiar reply. "I'm sorry. He's in a meeting."

  "Get him out of the meeting. This is an emergency. It's about his son."

  She waited impatiently for him to come to the phone.

  "Rachel? What's wrong? Is Ricky okay?"

  "No. He's not. You'll have to leave your precious meeting and come get him. I won't release him to Nina. I have proof she's abusing him and we've called the police."

  Silence on the other end bespoke Jonathon's shock. He exhaled sharply and exclaimed, "Are you sure enough to call the police?"

  "Yes. Get over here, okay?" She hung up, feeling impatient. Ricky was Jonathon's son. He would have to handle this. She had enough on her hands without defending her decision to involve the police.

  An officer arrived. He was tall and blond with a neatly trimmed mustache. Ricky hid behind Rachel and clung to her skirt.

  Pulling him gently beside he
r she knelt. "It's okay. Show him your arm and then I'll get you a game to play at our work table while I talk to him. Remember what I told you. Nobody's going to take you away."

  The officer knelt down eye level with Ricky, "Who did this?"

  Ricky was silent.

  "It's okay. You can tell him," she urged.

  "My grandma." His voice was soft, barely a whisper.

  "Has she done it before?"

  He nodded.

  The officer stood up.

  "I'll get him something to play with and meet you in the front office," she said.

  Leaving Ricky in the cubicle, she sat at the wicker table with the officer and told him Ricky's story. He rubbed his mustache. "Child welfare's been notified and should be in touch with the father. You say he has custody?"

  "Right."

  "He won't be allowed to leave his son in the grandmother's care until the case has been resolved. Where can I find the grandmother?"

  She gave the officer Nina's home address.

  Glancing up, she saw Jonathon's car pull into the spot beside the marked car. In less than a minute, he was inside. From his expression, she knew he had never expected this.

  "What's going on? Where's Ricky?"

  "He's playing a game in there." She nodded toward the cubicle.

  The officer stepped forward. "Mr. Parker?"

  Jonathon nodded.

  "Let's sit and talk a minute."

  Nodding toward Rachel, the officer said, "Miss Ashworth, found a burn mark on Ricky's arm."

  He turned to her. "Would you like to tell Mr. Parker what Ricky told you?"

  She took a deep breath and repeated the story. When she finished, he shook his head. "I didn't know. I never believed she would be capable of this. She's kept him since he was a baby."

  “The officer stood up. "I'm leaving him in your custody. You understand you can't leave your son alone with his grandmother."

  He nodded. "Of course."

  When the officer left, Rachael glanced toward the cubicle to see Ricky standing just outside, staring at them. His eyes were wide and afraid. Jonathon opened his arms and Ricky ran to him.

  "Oh, Ricky...Ricky, you should have told me. I wouldn't have let anybody hurt you or take you away. Let me see your arm."

  He examined the red line across Ricky's arm. "You told Rachel this happened before? When Grandma got angry, did she hurt you?"

  Ricky nodded solemnly. "She told me not to tell."

  He pulled his son into his arms again. "I'm sorry. I haven't been there for you. I should have been. Now look what's happened." Rachel saw moisture gather in his eyes as he buried his face in Ricky's dark hair. She pitied both of them even though she’d tried to tell Jonathon that Ricky needed him. Maybe he would listen now.

  A small client arrived. Rachael would have to go back to work. Before she escorted the child to the cubicle she told Jonathon, "Call me later and let me know how he's doing."

  It was difficult to keep her mind on lessons for the little girl while her thoughts replayed the events of the afternoon. Over and again, she asked herself what would have happened if Jonathon had been out of town today. Would they have taken Ricky into custody when he was so fearful of being taken away? She praised God with all her heart that Jonathon had been at his office.

  She was exhausted when she got home. She set her purse on the counter and sorted through her mail. As she examined an electric bill, the phone rang. It was Jonathon and he sounded tired.

  "I just got him to bed."

  "How's he doing?"

  "I think he’s relieved. Now that it's all out in the open, he can feel safe."

  "I'm glad. He'll probably have mixed feelings, though. He must wonder why, if his grandmother loves him, she would hurt him all these years. Maybe you could let Dr. Lewis help him sort it all out."

  "Maybe we'll do that." He sounded uncertain. "You know Nina blames psychiatrists for all of her problems."

  "That's too bad, because I think a good one, like Dr. Lewis, could help her. Have you talked to Nina tonight?"

  "No. I called several times, but she didn't answer. Then I called the police and they said they sent a car by, but she wasn't home. I was worried she'd done something crazy, so I called her neighbor and asked her to check the house. She said she saw Nina came home this afternoon, but she left in a hurry. I don't know where she is."

  "Probably avoiding the police. Be sure and tell Ricky's school that she's not to pick him up."

  "I'll do it first thing in the morning."

  "Have you decided what to do with Ricky after school?"

  "Yes. We stopped by a day care center that's on my way home from work. They said they could pick him up starting tomorrow. Of course, that doesn't solve my problem of going out of town this weekend."

  "Isn't there some way you could cancel?"

  "No. I'm the one most familiar with the circumstances of this client."

  She was quiet, pondering what to suggest.

  He cleared his throat. "Could you help me out, just this once and come over and keep him? It would give me time to figure something out. He likes you and it would get us out of a tight spot."

  "I have to work on Saturday."

  "Couldn't you take him with you? You could find him something to do. At least you have games there. I can't very well take him to New Jersey with me. What would I do with him while I was in meetings?"

  She bit her lip as a warning bell sounded in her mind. This was his problem, not hers. She could not let him shift his fatherly responsibilities. Yet it hadn't been his fault. He hadn't suspected Nina of being unfit to care for Ricky.

  "I'll do it once. After this, you better make arrangements to take care of him."

  "Thanks. I don't have to leave until eleven on Saturday morning. Could I drop him by your place on my way to the airport? It would be about eight."

  He hated begging her for Ricky's care. Yet with Nina proven unfit, his work demands left him no choice but to turn to Rachel. Couldn't she understand he could not have foreseen this problem?

  She sighed, still not liking the twist things had taken. "That would be fine."

  "I'll leave a key to my place. It will be easier to take care of him there."

  "That's true. He has all of his clothes and toys there."

  "Thanks again, Rachel. I owe you."

  He certainly did. When they hung up, her mind was spinning with events of the day. Foremost in her thoughts, was Ricky. Yet, there was something else, too. Thinking back, she recalled what Terri had told her about not always being her partner.

  Tomorrow, she would ask her what she meant. But not tonight. She was too tired to think anymore. She took a shower and curled up in bed with a book until sleep overtook her.

  Thursday morning, she met Terri for a long overdue session of Jazzercise. "You've been falling off on exercise lately, my friend," she said with a grin.

  Terri beamed in return. "I don't care. I've never been so happy. Take a look."

  She extended her hand and Rachel gaped at the sparkly diamond that adorned her finger.

  "It's gorgeous. You're getting married?"

  "In June."

  "I know I should have expected it. Still, I'm a little surprised. It seems so soon. You've only known each other a few months."

  "We've spent a lot of time together. Enough for me to know Eric's the only man I'll ever love."

  She gave her friend a hug. "I'm happy for you. I really am."

  Later, over chef salads, Rachel asked, "Is this what you were trying to tell me yesterday when you said you wouldn't always be my business partner?" <
br />
  Terri chewed thoughtfully, and then replied, "I've given it a lot of thought. We're planning to live across town. It's a long ways from here, and with me having to work evenings and weekends, we'd hardly see each other. It doesn't seem like the best start for a marriage. Are you upset?"

  "I'm a little worried. I'm not sure I can handle enough business by myself to keep the center going."

  "You could find another partner."

  "I don't know who. All the teachers I know are still teaching full time."

  "Maybe you could hire two people part-time. Anyway you don't have to worry about it yet. I'm not leaving until after the wedding. It will work out, you'll see."

  Where had she heard those words before? Jonathon had told her things would work out with Nina. And they had not. She fought the anxiety that threatened to fill her thoughts. She had worked hard for this business. It was her life. Terri had worked hard, too. How could she walk away? Rachel wanted to chastise her, to insist that she stay. Yet, how could she do so if Terri would be miserable doing it?

  "You're right. It'll work out."

  Later, as she drove home, she repeated words from Psalm 42. "Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God."

  ....

 

 

  Ricky was quiet when Jonathon dropped him off on Saturday morning. He watched his dad with solemn eyes as Jonathon handed her the house key. "I've had the locks changed so Nina's key won't work."

  She nodded. "Good idea."

  "Thanks again for keeping Ricky." He turned to the child. "You be a good boy, okay?"

  Ricky nodded.

  Jonathon's heart twisted at the expression on his son's small solemn face. If only this meeting were not so crucial, he could have put it off to stay home with Ricky. But the partners didn't care about his problems, only his output.

  He turned to Rachel. "I better run. I'll see you Sunday." With a quick kiss, he hurried off.

  "Have you had breakfast?" She asked Ricky, putting the key on her key ring.

  "No. I wasn't hungry."

  "Are you hungry now?"

  "Yes."

  She smiled. "How about if I make us both some breakfast? You like pancakes?"

  He responded with a grin. "Yeah!"

  She soon had a stack of pancakes sitting on the table. As they dug into the pile, she asked, "How do you like the day care center?"

  He shrugged. "It's okay. Grandma came to see me yesterday. She was standing outside the fence at the playground, but my teacher wouldn't let me talk to her. I miss her a little, but mostly I don't." He looked thoughtful as he speared another bite.

  Then he changed the subject. "You have any toys here?"

  "No. But we won't be here much. In a few minutes, we have to go to the learning center so I can help the children who come in today. When I'm finished, we'll go to your house and I'll stay there with you tonight."

  He nodded, seeming content with her answer. After he wolfed down three pancakes, they headed to the center, where she found crayons, paper, and several games to occupy Ricky while she began her first session. She offered him new activities each time she changed clients.

  The morning went well. They took a pizza break for lunch and she let him play a few video games in the pizza parlor. Then it was back to work.

  Tired of entertaining himself all morning, he soon grew restless. She found him two plastic cars and let him run them around the reception area. When he tired of that, she dug into her drawers and found him some glue and construction paper and set him to work making paper chains.

  During the break before her last appointment, he announced, "I'm tired. I want to go home."

  "You've been a good sport. Just one more and then we'll leave." She looked through the prize drawer and handed him a clown face with rolling beads for eyes. "Here. See if you can get these little balls into his eyes."

  When she finished her last appointment, she found him crawling under the furniture in the reception area. The plastic clown face was lying, long forgotten, on the floor. He pointed to a man passing by the windows. "There's dragons out there and I'm in their cave. I can't let them see me."

  He retreated under the desk.

  She was amused by his imagination and equally exhausted by a day of keeping him occupied while she tried to do her job. Knowing the next order of business was to get him fed, she weighed her options. She had no idea what might be in Jonathon's refrigerator from which to make a meal. Since she didn't feel like cooking, she stooped to peer under the desk and ask, "Do you think we could sneak past the dragons and dash to the car? I thought you might like a hamburger for supper."

  He crawled out from under the desk. "Can we go to one with a play land?"

  "I think we can."

  After he ate and examined the plastic toy that came with his meal, she allowed him a half-hour to play. He played alone, making no effort to interact with the other children. She made a mental note to call Paula Jeffries and check on his social adjustment at school.

  The sun was setting as they drove to his house. She parked in front and retrieved her overnight bag from the trunk. He watched her curiously. "Are you going to live here now?

  "No, honey. I just brought a few clothes and things I would need for tonight. When your dad gets home tomorrow, I'll go back to my apartment."

  As they walked to the door, he looked into her face. "I wish you could live here. I think it would be fun."

  She set her bag on the porch and unlocked the door. "I tell you what. We'll have fun tonight. Maybe we could play a game or read a story. What would you like to do?"

  "A computer game."

  She opened the door and followed him up a central spiral staircase. On the way up, she glanced around the house. It was the first time she had been inside. There was an open room at the top of the landing occupied by a desk and several bookcases. She guessed Jonathon used this area for an office. There was a bedroom to the right, a guest room, no doubt, and another bedroom to the left where Ricky waited eagerly in the doorway.

  They spent the next hour trying to find their way through a computer maze to win a key to unlock a riddle. She had to give Jonathon credit for choosing a game that would help Ricky learn, instead of one based purely on reflex.

  At nine o'clock she announced. "You take a quick bath and brush your teeth and I'll read you one story before you go to bed."

  He was prompt. He was out of the bathroom in ten minutes and tucked under his cover while she read him Doctor Seuss, "Green Eggs and Ham". He giggled at the silly rhymes, loving the story as much as she had when she had read it in her classroom.

  When they finished, she asked, "Do you want me to stay while you say your prayers?"

  He looked at her blankly. "I don't know how to pray."

  "Hasn't anyone ever taught you?"

  He shook his head.

  "It's easy. When I pray, I tell God what's on my mind and ask him to help me with my problems. I ask him to forgive me for things I've done wrong and to bless all the people I love. Do you want to give it a try? "

  "I want you to do it."

  She knelt beside his bed. "Dear Lord, please bless Ricky and keep him safe. Please keep his daddy safe and bless their lives together. Please help Ricky grow up into the boy you want him to be."

  She opened her eyes and smiled. "That was easy, huh?"

  He nodded. "Ask God to make my grandma well. Dad says she's sick."

  "I'm going to let you do that. God listens to little boys."

  She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “Good-night, Ricky." She walked out quietly
and turned out the light.

  She picked up her bag from the living room and glanced around. The downstairs held a formal dining room and behind it, a breakfast bar and kitchen. To the left, was the master bedroom. She stood, indecisively holding her bag. She could sleep upstairs where Nina had sometimes spent the night or in the master bedroom. Not feeling comfortable with either choice, she finally chose the master bedroom.

  She set her bag inside and viewed the room. It possessed a distinct masculine flavor. The bedspread was chocolate brown and the furniture a simple mahogany. The room lacked decorative touches and the windows were adorned only with mini-blinds. Peering into the adjoining bath, she noted that it was clean and equally unadorned.

  She showered quickly and slipped into her gown. She was preparing to brush her teeth when she heard the phone. She reached to answer, then froze. It was probably Jonathon. Yet, what if it was not? It could be a friend or relative, someone who knew he was not married. What would they think if she were to answer? Would Jonathon would be worried if she ignored it? Annoyed with him for putting her in this position, she forced herself to pick up the receiver.

  "Hello."

  No answer. She could hear someone breathing on the other end.

  "Hello."

  Click. She replaced the receiver, suspicion filling her mind. Was it an old girlfriend, someone who would hang up at the sound of a female voice? Or someone who knew she was here alone? Who had Jonathon told?

  A shiver crept along her spine as the phone rang again.

  Tentative this time, she raised it slowly. "Hello."

  Again, the sound of breathing. She was ready to hang up. Then, the caller spoke, her voice slurred and halting.

  "So...you just wanted to help Ricky? That's all you wanted? I don't think so. You're nothing but a gold digger."

  Rachel's mind reeled at the insulting words. Instinctively, she began to deny the charge. "I'm just here..." she paused, thinking. Should she tell Nina they were alone?

  It didn't matter. Nina wasn't listening. "My poor Eva. When I think what he's done to her memory, what you've done to her memory..." her voice dissolved into sobs.

  Rachel felt her legs shaking. "No one wants to take away any memories. I know you loved your daughter. Jonathon loved her, too. But she's dead and it's time to go on. Please, won't you let someone help you? I can give you the number of my minister. He could talk to you, help you feel better. Would you call him, please?"

  She wasn't sure if Nina was listening until she replied. "You're trying to trick me. You want to find out where I am. I won't let you. You're going to pay for what you've done. All of you."

  The vindictive outburst was followed by the buzz of the dial tone. Rachel clutched the phone, trying to sort out what Nina had said. Was it a threat? Were they in danger?

  She thought of calling the police, but what could they do? No one even knew where Nina was staying. She would have to hope whatever drugs or alcohol had slurred her speech would make her sleepy and she would awaken in a more reasonable state in the morning.

  Nonetheless, it was late into the night before Rachel fell into a restless sleep. Every creak of the house and breeze that rattled the windows set her nerves on edge. It seemed she had just dozed off when the wind picked up and the thunder began to roll. She squinted to see flashes of lightning brighten the blinds. Moments later, she heard Ricky cry out from the room above.

  Her heart pounded as she sprinted up the stairs. He sat huddled in bed, clutching the covers. She spoke soothingly. "It's okay, Ricky. It's just a storm."

  She perched on the side of his bed, taking his small, cold hands in her own. "Grandma says if I'm bad the lightning will get me. It strikes bad children and they die."

  She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Ricky you'll have to forget the things your grandma told you. Lightning doesn't strike children because they're bad. It's just part of nature, like the wind and rain. You're safe here in your bed."

  His small hand relaxed as she gently stroked his fingers. After awhile, the storm grew farther away and his eyes grew heavy. She settled him on his pillow and waited until he closed his eyes. Then, on tiptoe, she quietly left the room. Wide awake again, it took her another half-hour to get back to sleep.

  She woke groggily to the sound of her alarm placed on the unfamiliar headboard of Jonathon's bed. She shut it off and glanced around, taking a minute to remember her surroundings.

  She felt a sense of relief as she came fully awake. They had made it through the night. It was Sunday. This evening, Jonathon would return and she could go back to her own apartment, her own bed and her safe and familiar surroundings.

  She carefully remade the bed, dressed, and applied her make-up. A glance at the clock told her she had an hour before they had to leave for church. Deciding she had time to make French toast, she awoke Ricky and left him to get dressed while she began their breakfast.

  After breakfast, she took stock of the food supplies. Jonathon was due back at six o'clock. She intended to surprise him with a home-cooked dinner, but there seemed to be little on hand. She found some ground meat and a box of dried potatoes. Looking through the cupboard, she discovered a box of cereal, tomato sauce and a can of corn. Meatloaf, she decided would be the best possibility.

  She set the meat in the refrigerator to thaw and cleaned up the breakfast dishes. When it was time to leave, Ricky was dressed and eager to go. She dropped him at his class while she presented her lesson to her senior adults. She was amused by the questions regarding Jonathon's absence and knew she must remember to tell him he was missed.

  Ricky was on his best behavior during church. She rewarded him with a taco lunch and a stop at the playground. She sat outside, watching him play and enjoying a perfect day for late March. Mild and clear, and pleasantly warm.

  It was perfect, except that she missed Jonathon and still carried her nagging fears about Nina. She wanted him to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. She would feel much better when he got back tonight.

  They left the park in late afternoon. While Ricky played in his room, she mixed the meatloaf. She expected Jonathon in an hour and wanted dinner to be done when he got home. She put the meatloaf in the oven, and then began to set the table.

  As she was arranging the tableware, Ricky wandered in with a frog puppet on his hand. "Froggy can help you."

  "Thanks, Froggy."

  He was scooting a plate to his spot when the telephone rang. He turned to answer it and she stepped deftly into his path, worried it might be Nina. "You finish setting the table. I'll get the phone."

  Her hands felt clammy. She wished Jonathon were here to take the call.

  She took a deep breath and answered. "Hello."

  "Rachel." Hearing Jonathon's voice replaced her dread with surprise.

  "Shouldn't you be on the way home?"

  "I'm afraid there's been a delay."

  CHAPTER EIGHT