Finding Christmas

His head shot upward. “What kind of paper?”

“A restraining order—a permanent order to keep you from going near Connie and her mother. What was that about? I thought you and—”

His fist smashed down on the table, lifting the plate from the surface and sending his butter knife clattering to the floor. He snatched it up and pointed it at her.

“Carl, I’m just confused. You said you were a widower, but if you and she weren’t together, then why do you have custody now?”

He leaned across the table and poked the knife at her chest. “Are you stupid? Her mother’s dead—and that’s where you’re going to be if you don’t quit snooping. Why were you in the basement? Stay out of there.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t snooping. I was looking for my stuff, and I have to go there to do the laundry.” The look in his eye frightened her. “I suppose the question was stupid. Where else would Connie go but with her father?”

“Connie can go to her grave with you for all I care. You’re both a weight around my neck. Women are worthless.”

He eased the knife away from her chest, and Donna caught her breath. Another question about his name nudged her, but she wouldn’t ask, not if she wanted to live another day. “I can heat up some more stew.”

“It’s garbage,” he said, giving the plate an angry shove across the table. “Anyway, who can eat with your puss gapin’ at me?”

She started to say she was sorry again, but stopped herself. Donna wasn’t sorry. She’d put up with too much, and if she didn’t love Connie so much, she’d pack her bags and leave. If only Connie were her child, they could make their escape together—but she had no rights.

For the sake of Connie, she was stuck.

“So who was your friend last night?” Nita Wolfe asked.

Joanne swiveled in her desk chair and faced her co-worker, who was standing in her office doorway. Nita was one of those women with a good heart and the spirit of Cupid. If Joanne spent too much time talking with the copy machine repairman, Nita assumed it was a budding romance.

“Actually, an old friend of Greg’s,” she said.

Nita’s conspiratorial expression shriveled to one of disappointment. “That’s it?”

“That’s it. He’s a longtime friend who’s been away. Now he’s back in town.”

Nita perked up as she moved closer. “Married?”

“No.”

“Aha.” Nita raised her eyebrows.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just never know what God has in store.” She put her hand on Joanne’s shoulder. “You’re too young to be alone the rest of your life.”

“Thanks for the wisdom, Nita, but I can handle my life just fine.” Even as she said the words, Joanne admitted to herself that her life was lacking. She’d made a valiant effort to move on in every area but relationships.

A movement in the doorway caught Joanne’s eye. She followed Melissa Shafer’s entrance into the office, noted the woman’s eyes shifting from one side to the other. Joanne guessed her motive.

“Am I interrupting?” Melissa asked, giving Nita a look.

“Not at all. We were just talking,” Joanne said.

“Just wanted to see what you did to the office.” She wandered behind the desk and gazed out the large window overlooking the Detroit skyline. “It’s nice to have real sunlight.”

Joanne opened her mouth to apologize and then closed it. Recently, they had both been interviewed for the same position. Joanne had been given the promotion. “It’s nice, but I’m not sure it’s worth the added work and worry.”

Melissa grinned. “You worry? Never. You’re too cool and collected, Joanne.” She glided away from the window. “Well, congratulations. You made an impression and I didn’t. No hard feelings.”

“Thanks,” Joanne said, amazed at Melissa’s understanding.

Melissa strutted back to the doorway and paused. “You can get back to business.” She wiggled her fingers in a wave and vanished into the hallway.

Nita’s eyebrows arched. “I like the inflection. I suppose she assumed we were talking about her.” Then she grinned. “I bet you did make a better impression during the interview.”

Joanne shrugged, already wanting to forget the conversation. “By the way, here’s the novel I said I’d loan you.” She opened her desk drawer and pulled out the book she’d brought from home. “It’s a good story, and a nice way to spend a quiet evening.”

Nita skimmed the novel cover for a minute, then lowered the book and studied Joanne’s face. “All joking aside, you look stressed. What happened? Did your friend have bad news?” She settled her hip against the edge of the desk and ran her finger along a picture frame propped beside Joanne’s telephone.

Joanne’s gaze rested on the photograph she’d taken of Greg and Mandy at the Detroit Zoo in front of the bear fountain. The sunlight played on Mandy’s blond halo of curls, and Joanne felt a tug on her heart at the memory.

“It’s a lot of things,” she said, “but nothing that Benjamin said.”

“Benjamin? He was your midnight visitor?” Nita sent her a perky smile.

“He left at nine.”

Nita chuckled. “I’m only teasing.”

Joanne drew in a long breath and tilted her head toward the frame. “Three years ago today the accident happened.”

Nita’s focus shifted to the photograph. She lifted it from the desk and studied the picture, then replaced it with sorrow in her eyes. “Oh, honey,” she said, leaning over to give Joanne a hug, “I’m sorry. Here I am pulling your leg, and you’re really upset.”

Joanne wanted to tell her that her upset was about more than the anniversary date, but she hesitated. “Don’t worry about it,” she said finally. “I’ve had other things on my mind, too.” Still, maybe Nita would understand. She looked into her friend’s serious face. “Do you believe in—” She paused trying to find a word that made sense. “In premonition?”

Nita looked puzzled. “You mean like a sixth sense?”

“Sort of.”

“Women’s intuition?”

“A little more than that.”

“A little more, how?” Nita rested her hands on the desk and leaned closer. “What’s going on?”

“Voices?”

The word caused Nita to draw back. She straightened, as if she thought Joanne had lost her mind.

Joanne wondered herself. “Not really voices. A feeling. It’s in here.” She pressed her hand against her heart.

“You’re hearing things?”