The Road to Mercy (14 page)

She’d had some bad days this week, based on the e-mails he had received from Alex. If only he could be there to help more. Rolling satellite made life on the road more tolerable, but it also reminded him of what he was missing.

A while back, Alex had helped Beth upload the baby’s sonogram video. He had been able to count ten fingers and ten toes and even look into his baby’s eyes. Life was good, especially when things were going well at home.

Another message from Beth appeared in his inbox. This one had an unidentified attachment. Josh clicked the file, and a
photo popped onto the screen. It was Beth standing in profile, holding her hand on her stomach. Her smile was radiant. He picked up the phone to call her.

“Hi, honey!” she said. “Where are you?”

“On our way to Detroit. It’s the last day of the tour. The Christmas shows start tomorrow.”

“Oh, right. I remember now.”

“Thanks for the photo. When do I get another one of those sexy poses?”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I wasn’t making fun, honest. You’re the hottest pregnant mama I know.”

“I hope you don’t know any other hot pregnant mamas.”

“Nope. You’re the only one.” He smiled into the phone. “So what are you doing for the rest of the day?”

“We might drive around to a few consignment shops and look for baby furniture. If not today, we’ll go Monday after my doctor’s appointment.”

“Good. Do those shops deliver? Remember, I won’t be home until almost Christmas.”

“I’m sure they do. If not, I’ll put it on layaway for you to pick up when you get home.”

“Have fun. And watch the budget.”

“I wish you were here to help me.”

“I wish I was too. But the next three weeks will pass before you know it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

On Monday, after stopping by the hospital for a routine scan ordered by Dr. Abrams, Beth and Alex scoured three consignment shops in the Green Hills area.

Beth flopped down into the passenger seat of Alex’s car. “I’m disappointed,” she said. “I’m not sure I know what I want, but I know I didn’t see it today.”

“There’s plenty of time.” Alex assured her and turned the car in the direction of home. “You’ll find the perfect thing if you just keep looking. Maybe we should hit the garage sales again on Saturday. It would be a good excuse to get out and walk.”

“I suppose.” Beth’s energy had all but faded away. “Hey, look! There’s Maison de Reve Furniture. Let’s check it out.”

“I don’t think so. That’s a designer store,” Alex frowned. “It’s not wise to shop over your budget.”

“Why not? We’ll get some good ideas, and then we can improvise inexpensively from yard-sale finds. You’re the best at that kind of thing. Come on. Turn in here.” Beth tugged at Alex’s sleeve.

“Okay,” Alex said, making a quick right into the parking lot. “But I don’t like this idea. It’s too easy to . . .”

Beth bolted out of the car almost before it stopped, her energy renewed.

“It’s amazing how shopping can pep up a girl.” Alex caught up with Beth in front of the massive glass entrance of the high-end showroom.

Beth took a deep breath and stepped inside. “This place smells like money.”

“Burning money,” Alex grimaced.

“Don’t be so negative.” Beth spotted a drop-dead good-looking salesman walking their way. “This should be fun.”

“How may I help you beautiful ladies today?” The young man flashed his gorgeous green eyes.

“We’re just looking.” Alex grabbed Beth by the arm and dragged her toward the opposite direction.

Not easily deterred, Green Eyes followed them like a new puppy.

“Great. What’s your main interest?”

“Nursery furniture.” Beth pulled away from Alex.

“My name is Lane.” The salesman stuck out a manicured hand. “What’s yours?”

“Bethany. And this is Alex.”

“Bethany, we have the highest-quality infant furniture in Nashville. Let’s walk this way.” He stepped aside to allow the girls to pass. “Straight ahead. I’ll follow you.”

“Do you believe this stuff?” Beth whispered to Alex as they strolled past vignettes of designer living rooms, dining rooms, and bedrooms. “Look at that chair. I love cabbage rose print.”

“Me too.” Alex said, finally starting to get into the spirit of the shopping trip.

“That would look great in the baby’s room.” Beth pointed to a chaise lounge in one of the front window displays.

“Remember why we’re here.” Alex gave her a gentle push.

“Look at that . . . oh, my.” Beth raced toward the next vignette. “This is exactly what I was hoping to find.” She caressed the top of the baby changing table and dresser combination. “I love this color.”

“It’s called Cherry Mocha,” the salesman said. “And, of course, it’s 100 percent lead free. Some lower-end lines don’t maintain our standards of quality. We want parents to be confident in the safety of our products. We feel children are worth the difference in price.”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Beth said, nodding in agreement.

“Do you prefer the sleigh style bed or the classic?” he asked. He had a beautiful smile.

“Definitely the sleigh. It’s perfect.”

“It has a lot of personality, doesn’t it? One of the best things about this model is that it grows with your baby.” He directed her attention to the vignette across the aisle. “That is the same crib, once it has been converted to a full-size bed. Your son—or daughter—will be taking this set to college with him or her some day. No box springs are necessary.”

“Wow. That’s great.”

“Yes. A real money saver overall. You pay more upfront, but less in the long run.”

“This guy is good,” Alex whispered into Beth’s ear. “Of course, you need to tell him that you will have to look around.”

“I don’t know . . .” Beth hesitated. “I think I’ve found what I want.” She spoke loud enough for the salesman to hear.

“Do you want the four- or six-drawer changing table?” he asked.

“Definitely the six.”

“Good choice. Now . . . if you buy the collection rather than buying each of these pieces separately, we can give it to you for an exceptional price.”

“Really?”

“Let’s talk about it over a cup of coffee,” he suggested. “Please, follow me to the conference table.”

“Can you believe he gave me a dozen roses?” Beth stuck her nose into the bouquet of pale pink buds and settled comfortably into the passenger seat of Alex’s car.

“He should have given you a rose garden considering the price you paid for that furniture.” Alex glared at her.

“I don’t think it was that bad,” Beth argued. “I may have spent more upfront, but it will pay off as the baby grows. And it’s 100 percent lead free.”

“You sound like the salesman.” Alex pursed her lips. “But Josh may not be so happy with you—or me—when he finds out.”

“Why would he be mad at you?” Beth gave Alex a hard look. “It was my decision, not yours.” She thought about it for a moment. “And don’t tell him. I’ll let him know soon enough.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not saying a word.” Alex promised. “This is between you and Josh.”

“Thanks.” Beth inhaled the sweet scent of rose petals. “I’ll tell him about it when he comes home for Christmas, after he sees the furniture.”

Isaac threw his Torah and skullcap onto the bed. He’d had enough. He and his grandfather had done nothing but argue since Levi Ruben returned to the flower shop last month.

Grandfather could have his antiquated way of doing business. It was his problem if he didn’t appreciate that Isaac had doubled the profits in the past two years. Isaac would bide his time until he could work out his personal plans. Then, he would be out of here for good.

He had applied to Columbia University, and when the acceptance letter came—and it would come because he had scored in the top ten percentile on his national exams—he would use his inheritance money to finance an education.

Isaac had been grateful to learn this spring about the trust fund his parents had left. Without it, he wouldn’t have the chance to break free. Certainly not the opportunity to attend college. He might not have known his parents, but he would have a better life because of them.

Columbia was a prestigious school, attracting the best students from all walks of life. There, he would meet others like himself. People his age, who understood the value of science
and modern medicine. People who didn’t rely on old-fashioned religion to heal their bodies or numb their minds. Ironically, his grandfather’s health had improved because of advances in science. But the old man still clung to his ritual belief system.

Grandfather saw the world as black and white. Like a skullcap lying on a chenille bedspread.

Isaac understood the nuances of gray, of compromise. That there was much more to life than a dirty flower shop on an out-of-touch corner on Long Island. He hated to think about leaving Mama Ruth. But she had chosen her life’s sentence with Grandfather. Isaac Benjamin Ruben—or whoever he was—had done his time.

Boss, I hate to bother you.” Josh’s bunk curtain shook, and he heard Danny’s muffled whisper. “But we have a problem.”

Josh glanced at his watch. A quarter past four in the morning. The bus motor droned. They must have stopped at a truck stop for refueling.

“Boss.”

“Yeah, man.” Josh’s words came out little more than a grunt.

“I’m sorry to wake you, but I need your help with something.”

Josh ran his fingers through his hair, unsnapped the bunk drape, and slid it open. “What is it?”

Danny’s voice croaked. “My credit card won’t work. It was denied. I thought you might know what to do. Sorry to bother you.”

So much for sleep
. Josh grabbed his street clothes. “I’ll be right there. Give me a minute.”

“Sure thing.” Danny straightened up, turned, and walked toward the front of the bus, closing the galley door behind him.

A few minutes later, Josh stepped outside the bus. The bright lights of a truck stop on a frosty morning never failed to amaze him. It was a scene he had experienced many times, and it represented his way of life, even more than screaming crowds, hotel restaurants, and endless interstates. It was the world that turned while others slept.

Big, eighteen-wheel rigs in fueling bays. The smell of coffee and fried eggs. Pure Americana that most Americans had never experienced, or even knew existed. Air brakes squealed. Tired voices yelled hellos, good-byes, and last-minute instructions. There was a common respect among those on the road that went beyond CB radio conversations about speed traps and weigh stations. No matter what time or what mood he was in, Josh always took a moment to enjoy this scene. To soak it in.

Danny met him outside the bus. “I’m sorry to put you through this. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“It’s not your fault. Did they tell you why the card was rejected?”

“Over the limit.”

Josh pondered that thought. “I’m not sure how that could happen. Bradford pays the bills every month. Let’s go check it out.”

Danny followed him into the truck stop. They took a place in line behind a burly truck driver.

“Let me look at the card while we’re waiting,”

His driver handed him a thin piece of plastic. Josh turned it over in his hands, hoping to find an answer to their problem. Nothing seemed out of order.

The man in front of them walked away, and Josh stepped to the counter.

“May I help you?” A sleepy looking clerk asked.

“Yes. We are fueling on . . .”

“Bay five,” Danny said.

“Yes. We’re fueling on bay five, and it seems my credit card doesn’t work. Would you mind trying it again?”

“Sure.” She grabbed the card and swiped it through the machine. The clerk drilled her fingers on the counter and looked around the room while the machine gurgled, popped, and finally regurgitated an answer.

“Sorry, sir.” She gave Josh a passing look. “It doesn’t work.”

“Okay, let me use my personal card.” Josh pulled his wallet from the pocket of his jeans. “Do you take Visa?”

“Yes, sir.” The clerk exchanged the cards and initiated the authorization process another time. The machine churtled through the same irritating motions, and then spit out its response.