Paige watched Dawn pull out of the driveway on her way to work, then walked outside and sat at her mother’s favorite bench on the edge of the property. “Forgive me. I know I haven’t been trusting You. I mean, I’m not going to sit here and lie to You. You know everything anyway, but it doesn’t seem like You’ve come through for me much lately. Why should I expect this time to be any different?”
A squirrel ran across the grass, picked up a piece of a twig, and sat up, holding it in his paws. He leaned forward and nibbled a little, then dropped the twig and moved on. Paige understood how he felt. How are you supposed to know what to ignore and what to pick up?
“Okay, I thought I was praying in faith all along, but obviously I need some help. Ora was right, I wouldn’t have done something that was obviously wrong to ‘help You out’ if I’d really had faith in the first place. I guess this is one of those times that I need You to ‘help my unbelief,’ because let’s just be honest, I don’t have any belief left.” The truth of the words sickened her, but she was done playing games—especially with God.
She looked through the oak leaves above her to the traces of blue beyond them. The vastness of the sky was blue, but the leaves right in front of her kept her from seeing it—just like her problems were keeping her from seeing the entirety of God, she supposed.
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place where the Most High dwells. God is within her, she will not fall; God will help her at break of day.
The verse echoed deep within her as she focused on the largest spot of blue she could find. “I’m going to stay at my post and trust You. But I’ve got to tell You, I sure hope daybreak is coming soon.”
“Come on, Dusty, let’s go back up to the house.” He stood and followed her. “Why don’t we do a little deep cleaning today, boy? What do you think—should we start with the kitchen?”
Dusty walked into the house and into the front room, where he took his usual spot at the bay window. “I guess I can’t count on you for help, eh, boy?”
Paige opened the bottom drawer and removed the cast-iron skillets that had seen more years on this earth than she had. How many chicken drumsticks had been fried in these? Paige could almost hear her mother’s slightly off-key humming that always accompanied her cooking. The memory made her both smile and ache.
Dusty began to bark with a fury from the front room. Paige slowly pushed to her feet, reluctant to leave the bittersweet connection.
She went to the window and peered out at the driveway. Dawn was climbing out of her car.
Oh, no.
Dawn walked into the house, looking rather less upset than Paige would have supposed for someone who had just been fired.
“What happened?”
“Clarissa called in sick. The pharmacy will be closed today.”
Clarissa exited the elevator and started down the long corridor, hearing the clack of her sandals against the floor. This had to be the hardest walk she’d ever taken. She drew a deep breath when she reached suite 301 and pushed through the door.
The receptionist looked up from the keyboard, her chin tilting down so she could look over her half-glasses. “May I help you?”
“I’m Clarissa Richardson. I called yesterday to meet with Gary Powell.” The calmness in her own voice surprised her.
“I’ll let him know you’re here. Have a seat.”
How much did the receptionist know? The woman treated her politely, but Clarissa felt condemned. Thoughts of yesterday’s visit to the hospital still ached, and this had been the only thing she could think of to try and soothe that pain. Clarissa stared aimlessly out the window. Such a beautiful day and she barely saw any of it.
“Miss Richardson? Mr. Powell is ready for you. Third office on the right.”
Clarissa walked across the heavy-duty blue carpet past two doors, then stopped at the third. She could turn now, run out of here, and never come back. Maybe find a little place on the coast and get a job in a tennis shop, where a ten-minute coffee break couldn’t hurt somebody.
She suddenly found herself standing inside the office, although she had no memory of making the decision or taking the necessary steps. Yet somehow, here she was.
“Please sit down.” He motioned toward a cheap leather chair.
Slowly she lowered herself into it, although every instinct told her not to. She needed to be ready to bolt.
He looked at her with sympathy in his eyes. Or was it condescension? “Thank you for coming in today.”
Somewhere down the hall a door closed softly and murmuring voices drew near, passed by, and fell silent. Clarissa squeezed her fingers tight together, watching the tips turn white.
Gary Powell cleared his throat. “I’m hearing some different versions of the story out of Shoal Creek. Do you have anything new to add to what you’ve already told me?”
Clarissa studied the manufactured grain on the surface of the desk. Dark black swirls against a dark brown background. She supposed it was meant to look like mahogany, but it didn’t. It looked like a cheap imitation. She had always hated fakes.
“There are a few more things you need to know. Something I guarantee you neither Paige nor Dawn has had the guts to tell you.”
And so she began.