The Search (20 page)

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Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray

BOOK: The Search
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Chapter 27

“Back when we were in school, Perry would read a whole book in a day. He was a lot smarter than most gave him credit for. It's a real shame he made so many dumb choices.”

B
ETH
B
YLER

S
till shaken by her conversation with Micah, Frannie stopped by Beth's house on her way home. She hoped to relax for a few hours away from the inn, but Beth had asked if they could spend the time at the inn instead.

An hour later, Beth showed up with a basket of sewing projects, and Lydia Plank.

“As soon as you told me about Micah, I decided reinforcements were in order,” Beth said.

“I hope you don't mind?” Lydia asked.

“Definitely not,” Frannie said with a smile. “The more the merrier.”

Pulling out a pretty tin from her basket, Beth said, “I've got both peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies.”

Frannie winked at Lydia. “You've been baking, Beth?”

“Definitely not! My
mamm
made these this morning. Today was one of her better days.”

“Praise God,” Frannie said with a smile. “Those cookies look
wunderbaar
! I'll brew some coffee.”

Soon she, Lydia, and Beth were sitting and eating cookies, moping and pretending to sew. Finally, Frannie looked at her two best friends and grimaced. “We're quite a sight, aren't we? All we're doing is getting fat and creating frown lines.”

“Not too fat. I've only eaten three cookies,” Lydia said.

“Five. You've eaten five,” Beth countered.

Lydia frowned. “Truly?”

“I'm sure,” Beth replied. “I know because I've only picked up a new cookie when you have.”

Lydia slumped. “Next time, don't count cookies.”

“Don't feel bad. I would've eaten more if you two hadn't been here,” Frannie admitted.

“I ate two before I saw you both,” Beth confessed. “They're good. And no matter what people say, chocolate does help make you feel better.”

“I'm not about to argue with that.” Frannie sewed a perfect line, then continued. “If we've been in worse moods, I'm not sure when.” Afraid to talk about what was really on her mind, she said, “There has been much going on lately. Perhaps we're all exhausted.”

“There has been a lot going on,” Lydia said around yet another bite of cookie. “Walker and I can't seem to figure out what we are going to do with the rest of our lives . . . and my
mamm
is pressuring me to figure it out quick.”

Beth rolled her eyes. “Mothers.”

Frannie felt a momentary pinch in her heart—the same thing that always happened whenever she contemplated how much she missed her own mother. “At least you have a man in your life, Lydia.”

“Frannie, you and I might as well admit what has us so shaken up,” Beth said. “We're grumpy because we're brokenhearted over two men we shouldn't have ever thought twice about.” She picked up another cookie, stared at it, and then set it back on the plate. Curving her arms about her stomach, she said, “I never should have eaten so many. Do you two feel sick?”

“Only a little,” Lydia admitted.

“I don't,” Frannie said. “At least, not yet.” She grabbed another cookie. Maybe that's what she should be doing—eating cookies until she only thought about a squeamish stomach . . . not a broken heart. It would hurt far less.

Beth picked up a piece of lint from her fabric. “We are smart girls. We should have known better than to get involved with men we have nothing in common with. No good could have come from it. But maybe we were just tired of all the same prospects . . . Is that what happened with you, Lydia?”

“I don't think so.” After a moment, she said quietly, “It just happened that one day I knew Walker was the man who could make me happy.”

Lydia made love sound so easy, Frannie thought. But it wasn't easy at all. After all, Micah should have been the perfect man for her—they were part of the same community, and had many of the same values.

But instead of making her feel happy and secure, Micah had only made her feel doubtful and troubled. And sometimes . . . even annoyed!

Now, Luke, on the other hand, he did make her feel excited and happy. But he was a policeman! Furthermore, he left for Cincinnati without even telling her a final goodbye!

How could something so wrong feel so right? It made no sense. How could falling in love be the wrong choice? She bit the inside of her cheek to distract herself from the burning ache in her chest.

“I tried to fall in love with Micah,” Frannie admitted over the lump in her throat. “But I just couldn't do it.”

Beth nibbled her bottom lip. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and Frannie suspected she harbored a painful heartache of her own.

Diplomatically, Beth said, “Micah is a good man. That is true. But he wasn't ever the man for you.”

“I know.” Heaven knew she had tried hard to make it work. But it hadn't been enough. And once she met Luke, she knew it would have never been enough.

She hadn't loved Micah.

But she did love Luke—with all her aching heart.

“Only the Lord knows.” Lydia shrugged. “Perhaps one day he'll see fit to tell us why.”

Beth pulled the tin closer, then picked up another cookie. “It's probably best they're gone from here. I mean, it's best Chris left and that I have no way to get in touch with him ever again.” She shoved the cookie into her mouth and chewed for all it was worth.

“I suppose so,” Frannie reluctantly agreed. Because, well, what else could she say? Beth was right. But that didn't mean she had to like it. Where was Beth's happy ending?

Where was hers?

And here, Lydia wasn't all that happy, either.

Maybe, she reflected, happy endings didn't exist. Maybe happy endings were what you made of the pieces left behind, like some sort of crazy quilt.

She grabbed a cookie, popped the whole thing into her mouth, and let the peanut butter melt on her tongue. After a long moment, she said, “Girls, do you think one day we'll look back at all this and laugh? No doubt we'll wonder why we ate ourselves silly!”

“I'll know tonight when I have a stomach ache,” Lydia said darkly.

Beth, on the other hand, didn't look as if she'd ever look back on her feelings and feel like laughing. No, at the moment, Beth looked only like she wanted to cry. “I told my
mamm
I don't understand why the Lord brought me and Chris together in the first place, if we were never meant to be.”

“What did she say?”

Beth slumped. “She said she'd given up wondering why God made things happen. And then of course I felt terribly guilty for bothering her with my selfish problems.”

“Maybe your
mamm
liked being bothered,” Lydia ventured as she picked back up her sewing. “I've always thought your mother liked being involved in your life.”

“She does. I try to protect her by telling her that I'm always fine. But sometimes we both know I'm not.”

Tentatively, Frannie said, “And how do you feel when your
mamm
tries to protect you and not tell you when she's feeling poorly?”

Beth ran her finger over a row of stitches. “I do not like it much.” She glanced up and gave a watery smile. “When did you become so wise, Frannie Eicher?”

She grinned and held up a cookie. “It must be the chocolate.” She brushed away crumbs and said, “Sometimes it's impossible to pretend you're not upset. Sometimes, it's more important to share your feelings with friends.”

She bit into the cookie. When the yummy combination of peanut butter and chocolate settled on her tongue, she smiled in bliss. “These are the best cookies ever.”

“I agree,” Lydia said. “They are truly
wunderbaar
.”

Beth's expression lit up. “I'll tell Mamm that!”

Frannie laughed. It helped ease the hollowness in her chest. She glanced out the window and wondered where Luke was. What he was doing. Then she shook her head. She had no right to be thinking such things.

After a few moments, Beth said, “Frannie, do you think we'll ever truly know what happened with Perry?”

“We might find out, but I doubt we'll ever understand why he got mixed up with so many dangerous people.” He'd become such a lost soul—looking to find his way. Only he'd looked in all the wrong places.

“I'm wondering if those men who hurt Chris had anything to do with Perry's death.”

She shrugged. “Maybe.” Thinking about those sunglasses, Frannie figured Chris's investigation had a lot to do with Perry. “Drug dealers in Marion.” Frannie shivered. “I never thought I'd see the day. That is one bit of news I would have been happy to never know.”

“I agree.” Shifting, Beth wiped her hands, then picked up her needle and thread and focused her attention once again on the sheet she was mending.

Obviously hoping to lighten things up, Lydia said, “Maybe you should think about finding another man?”

Beth stuck her tongue out at Lydia.

Feeling mischievous, Frannie said, “Micah is available now.”

Beth raised two hands in mock horror and smiled wide. “No, but
danke
. I'm afraid he'd drive me crazy in a week.”

Frannie laughed. “Maybe not that long. You have less in common with him than I do.”

Beth grinned, then little by little her smile faded. “Oh, Frannie, I am just so sad . . . sad, and with a stomachache, too. Ach.” Carefully, she clipped her thread, then neatly folded the sheet she'd been mending and put the needle and spool of white thread away. “I think I'm going to head on home now.”

“But it's only two o'clock,” Lydia protested.

“I'm watching a couple's children tonight.”

Frannie shared a knowing look with Lydia. “You're now babysitting in the evening, too, Beth? You need some time for yourself.”

“No I don't,” she said quickly. “That is what I absolutely don't need. If I think too much, I'll hurt too much.”

As Lydia frowned, Frannie nodded. She knew the feeling well.

L
ydia stayed a little bit longer, then soon left, too. She had a date with Walker.

When she was alone again, Frannie sat in silence sewing for at least an hour, with Beth's last comment ringing in her ears. She privately felt the same way as Beth, though wasn't brave enough to admit it. At the moment, she was sad that only she and Jack were in the house. She ached for an inn full of people so she wouldn't have time to be alone with her thoughts.

She yawned, and let her eyes drift shut. Her insomnia had returned, and she hadn't been sleeping well at all lately. She supposed it was time to accept that she was now going to sleep whenever her body demanded it—even if it was in the middle of the afternoon.

She'd just drifted off into that first layer of rest when there was a pounding at the door. She sat upright with a start, but now knew enough to wait patiently for Jack to open the door first.

He came down the steps and advanced toward the front door.

She was shaking out the skirt of her dress when she noticed that Jack hadn't checked the safety of his gun. Instead, he was unlocking the door and opening it with a broad smile. Just like he was a doorman!

“How are you doing, Luke?” he asked.

Luke? Was she dreaming?

She peered around the corner. It wasn't a dream at all. Luke Reynolds stood just inside the doorway, murmuring something to Jack when he looked in her direction and paused.

It was as if all time stopped as they stared at each other, neither blinking.

Her heart forgot its pain and was now beating a rapid rhythm that sent her pulse pounding. She didn't know whether to laugh with joy at seeing him—or cry with the knowledge that she would have to say goodbye. Again.

He cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Hey, Frannie.”

“Luke.” She didn't even try to be formal enough to say
Detective
. Her throat had gone dry as she looked at him with foreboding. “Has . . . has something happened with the case?”

He smiled slowly. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

Frannie darted a look in Jack's direction. But instead of taking out a pad of paper or peppering Luke with questions, he was grabbing his coat off the hook by the door.

“If you two don't mind, I'm going to take off for a little while, to, ah, get some air.” He handed Luke a card. “Call me when you are ready to leave, and I'll come back.”

Frannie stared after Jack in confusion. “Well, that was mighty strange. He's never done that before.”

“I guess he thought you were in good hands?”

She caught the flirty tone in his voice and wondered at it. “So I suppose you want to talk to me alone? Want some coffee?”

“I do.” He followed her to the kitchen, and sat at the table and watched her pour water into the old percolator just like it was part of their daily routine. She really hoped he couldn't see her hand shaking.

“Luke, I thought we wouldn't see each other again.” She really was proud of the way she was keeping her voice even.

Looking sheepish, he said, “To tell you the truth, I wasn't planning on it.”

“Yet,” she said, “here you are.”

“Yes. Here I am.”

As she carefully measured out coffee, and wondered why he was here, he said, “Did I ever tell you about Renee?”

Her hand shook, spilling coffee grounds everywhere. “
Nee.
” She grabbed a sponge.

“Renee was a woman I was seeing off and on before I got here. We kind of had a ‘thing', an understanding, between us.”

She squeezed the sponge extra hard. “I see.” So that was why he had returned! To tell her in person about his girlfriend. She now wanted to throw the sponge at his head. There were some things she didn't need to know.

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