Janie Face to Face (31 page)

“I think it’s okay if he mumbles,” said Brian. “Janie wants all her parents at her wedding.”

“No,” said Miranda. “He thinks he’s spoken to Hannah. He thinks she called him on the phone. Over and over again, he keeps calling for Hannah. I can’t let him cry out to Hannah during Janie’s wedding.”

Brian squatted down. Now he was eye level with Mr. Johnson. “Did she call?”

Frank nodded. The grip on Brian’s hand lessened, but the eyes grew more intense.

Frank Johnson was afraid.

Brian raged at Hannah with a ferocity he had thought long
gone. Trying not to let it show, he took out his cell phone and opened the photographs within it. He held one up for Mr. Johnson to see. “This is Janie in her wedding gown. Isn’t she beautiful?”

With less difficulty than Brian had expected, Mr. Johnson took the phone in his good hand. “Werring.”

“Right. Wedding. And you’re the father of the bride. Actually, she’s got a pair of fathers, and she wants them both at her wedding.”

“But what if he talks about Janie’s kidnapper during Janie’s wedding?” cried Miranda.

“Nobody will know,” said Brian brutally. “Nobody will understand what he tries to say. The good news is, Frank knows his daughter Janie is getting married to the boy next door. Frank needs to be there. Go pack Frank’s bag.”

Miranda Johnson went into the bedroom and began opening drawers. Brian Spring took his cell phone back. “Everything’s okay, Mr. Johnson,” he said. “I got your message about Hannah.”

Brian went out into the hall, shut the apartment door behind him, and opened the contact list on his phone. All these years, he had kept Agent Mollison’s number. Just in case, his parents used to say.

For all he knew, the man had changed his phone number years ago. Retired. Died, even. Nobody answered. Eventually a machine requested a message.

Brian identified himself. “Frank Johnson believes that his daughter, Hannah, telephoned him and he’s afraid.”

People were so stupid and Hannah was so smart.

She headed to the nearest post office branch. Lazy customers ignored the designated parking, parked where they felt like it, blocked everybody else, left their cars running, and slouched in to get their mail.

It was a terrible world when people wouldn’t follow simple basic rules that allowed everyone to get along in harmony.

Maybe the car she found would have GPS, which she had heard about but never seen. She was panting with excitement. Oh, there were so many cars to choose from! Now,
there
was a handsome car! A mysterious gray-brown, meant to vanish in a thick fog.

Its driver was fat and slow and deeply concerned with a little package. Letting his engine idle, the man waddled into the post office, face down and frowning. Hannah waited for the big glass doors to close behind him and then she slid into his seat.

The police would not bother to look for this car, because
finding one stolen car was hopeless, and because they had better things to do.

Me too, thought Hannah, giggling. I have really good things to do.

She eased into traffic, tuned the radio to a better station, and set out for Interstate 80.

Two thousand miles, more or less. A lot of hours.

But that’s okay, she thought. I’m so excited. I don’t need to stop for sleep or food.

Traffic was heavy but I-80 was straight. Hannah could watch stuff on her cell phone at the same time she drove. She was a very clever person and could always multitask in ways that defeated other people.

She had been driving only an hour when the car started to beep.

She checked her seat belt. Looked around to see if it was some other car beside her, honking. Checked the dashboard for the glow of warning signs.

She was practically out of gas.

The needle shivered below E.

She’d have to take the next exit and find a gas station.

Of course when you needed to get off an interstate, they didn’t have an exit. They conspired against you!

She drove slower and slower, hoping to use less fuel. People honked and gave her the finger. At last she was going down an exit ramp, a stupidly long curve of concrete, leading to yet another highway, but also a whole bunch of gas stations. She made it to the first one and pulled up exactly right, the little flap of the gas tank positioned perfectly by the pump.

She was amused that she had had even the slightest worry. She didn’t make errors and she had not made one this time.

If you paid cash at this gas station, you had to go inside first and give them the cash before they would turn the pump on. Nobody trusted people anymore! It was terrible.

She was sick when the cashier said how much money it would probably take to fill the tank of her big car. She was sure the man was trying to rip her off. But he turned out to be right.

A large fraction of her cash was already gone.

The moment she was back on the road, she forgot about cash. Driving so fast was so exciting. She would drive through the night. Her timing, of course, was superb. She would arrive with an hour or two to spare.

The miles flew by. Each mile lifted her pulse. The hours passed like minutes.

And soon, way too soon, the tank was empty again.

She had always been good at math. She could divide the miles she had left to drive into the money she had left to spend. She would barely make it.

Money!

It always came down to money!

How Hannah hated this society, so focused on money. As if money mattered, compared to the depth of your heart and spirit.

That parent thief wanted all of Hannah’s money. Well, it wasn’t going to happen!

Hannah was getting it! So there!

Janie had crammed a year’s worth of bride activity into Friday.

The morning had begun with Jodie and Sarah-Charlotte’s crazy bridal shower. Nobody had had time to buy anything, so there were no gifts; there was just discussion of what people would have bought if they’d had time. Jodie kept a careful list of each nonexistent present so Janie could write a prompt thank-you note.

Next, Janie, Sarah-Charlotte, and Jodie had sped to the motel to greet all the Shields family. “Our job, Janie, is to get you in and out in one sane piece,” explained Jodie. “When people mention carloads of household hand-me-downs for you and Reeve, pretend you don’t hear.”

That was easy. Janie didn’t hear a thing. She was deaf from the shouts and cries and laughter of this new family. So much family, multiplying, increasing, filling rooms and hearts. She could not believe how lucky she was. All these families! All hers!

But no Reeve. The day was so strange without Reeve. She
ached for him to come, to be here. All these nice people, and who cared? She wanted Reeve.

“Time to go!” Jodie shouted finally. “Janie has a plane to meet! See you at the rehearsal tonight!”

And then, the joy of another airport. The man she loved. And a diamond ring.

Now on the drive home from Kennedy, her father at the wheel, Reeve sat as close to her in the backseat as the shoulder strap of their seat belts would allow. Janie kept touching the tiny glittering stone of her engagement ring, turning it inside to hug it in her palm, and turning it back out to watch it twinkle, and turning to give Reeve another kiss.

Reeve was falling asleep.

“Daddy?” she said.

“Nice ring, huh?”

“Did you know?”

“Yup. Had to coordinate everything. Didn’t know about the pilot, though. That was a nice touch. I almost fell for it myself.”

“Reeve is asleep.”

“Wake him up. We’re at the church.”

The minute she saw the church, Janie remembered music. She who loved music had not the slightest idea what, if any, music was planned for the church or the reception. She didn’t want silence! Could they still get somebody? Who?

What a relief when a man walked up and announced that he was the organist and would run the rehearsal.

He gathered the wedding party at the back of the church to do a walk-through without music.

“We have three mothers,” said the organist. “Ushers will stop seating guests at two p.m. At that time, the mother of the groom will be escorted to her seat by a son. Son?”

“Me,” yelled Todd. “I multitask. Best man, cue card holder, and mom escort.”

“Lower your voice, Todd,” said Mrs. Shields. “We are in church.”

“After that, one mother of the bride will be seated by a designated usher,” said the organist.

“Me!” called Brian. “I seat Miranda.”

How marvelous that people knew what they were doing.

“Last person seated before the ceremony is the mother of the bride, escorted by a son.”

“It’ll be Stephen,” said Brian, “but he isn’t here yet. Their plane lands around eleven.”

“Brendan, you don’t get to seat anybody?” whispered Janie.

“Everything’s cool,” he said. “I’m getting Stephen and Kathleen at the airport.”

“That’s tonight. I was thinking of the ceremony. I wanted you to have somebody special to escort.”

Brendan grinned and shook his head. “I’m the bouncer.”

“Oh, you’ll be a fabulous bouncer. If the media shows up, they’ll regret it,” she said, hugging him. She was surprised by the emotion on his face. Weddings took it out of the most unexpected people.

“With all mothers seated,” said the organist, “the ushers regroup in a room off the front of the church, which I will show you in a minute, and then the wedding march begins.
The ushers, best man, and groom enter from the right to stand in a row by the altar. Let’s practice that much.”

Mothers were escorted and seated. Ushers regrouped.

“Next come the bridesmaids, one by one,” said the organist. “Then the maid of honor. You will line up at the opposite side of the altar from the men.”

The bridesmaids argued about what order to march in. “I’m the maid of honor,” said Jodie. “I’ll decide. We’re going by height. Lindsay, you’re short, you’re first. Lizzie is last. How tall is Eve, Janie? And why isn’t she here?”

“Eve will be here tomorrow. She’s just your average height, I think.” I knew two weeks ago, thought Janie. This is why brides hold their father’s arm. So they don’t tip over from too much detail.

“Don’t walk so quickly, Lindsay!” cried Mrs. Shields. “Lizzie, slow down. Be dignified.”

Down by the altar, Reeve’s brother and brother-in-law shoved and hooted as they took their places, holding up one sick and twisted cue card after another. Janie couldn’t help laughing. From her spot in the front pew, Mrs. Shields snapped, “This is a church! Not a bachelor party.”

The organist hustled down the aisle to arrange all the participants in their proper spots.

Father John appeared at Janie’s side. He said softly, “Don’t worry about a thing, Jennie. They’ll be on their best behavior at the wedding. But just to be sure, I will confiscate all cue cards.”

She had forgotten she was Jennie.

For a moment, in the midst of a noisy crazy crush of people who loved her, she was afraid. Who in the world was Jennie?

She almost said to Father John, “Forget it. Skip the Jennie thing. I don’t even know a girl named Jennie.”

“Bride!” yelled the organist.

How long had she been standing there, wondering who Jennie was? How long had her father Jonathan been grinning at her, and waiting, while her father Frank sat smiling to himself in his wheelchair?

Reeve was laughing, jumping up and down semaphore-style, signaling where she should land.

“Reeve!” said his mother. “Behave yourself!”

When the rehearsal ended, they had the rehearsal dinner. It was chaotic and crazy, like everything else. And like everything else, somebody other than Janie had planned it. Or not planned it, in Mrs. Shields’s view.

Reeve was awake through the entrée and then he crashed. His brother, friends, and brother-in-law hauled him off to the hotel, where Janie hoped he would be allowed to sleep, while the girls hauled Janie back to the Springs’ house, where nobody had the slightest intention of sleeping.

The slumber party lasted most of the night. Kathleen didn’t even get introduced until after midnight. Somewhere around one or two, Janie fell asleep on an air mattress. She woke up to find sunlight streaming through the window. Sheets and pillows covered the floor, but she was the only person in the room. She grabbed her cell phone to check the time. It was eleven in the morning! Her wedding was only three hours away!

She should have been up at dawn!

She raced down the stairs and found all the girls in the family room in various stages of undress. “What were you going to do?” she shrieked. “Have the wedding without me?”

“Good morning, darling,” said her mother, giving her a hug and a kiss. “There’s plenty of time and you needed the rest.”

“But Mom, I have only one wedding day, and I lost hours of it!”

“Those early hours don’t count.” Her mother hugged her again, and Janie was stabbed through the heart. What about her other mother? Miranda was sitting in a hotel, staring at furniture or a ruined husband, waiting in silence and sorrow.

Oh, Mom! thought Janie. Oh, my poor mother. I should be with you. Or you should be here.

But no. Her real mother was the mother of the bride.

I still don’t know, thought Janie. After all this time, I still don’t know who my real mother is. How can Miranda know?

Janie had a horrifying icy thought that she had not had in all these years. She and Hannah had had the same parents. That made them sisters.

No, she told herself. I will not think about Hannah today.

Jodie, hair wrapped in a towel turban, smiled at her. “Don’t worry, Janie. Everything’s falling into place. Go shower and then we’ll get your hair done.”

“We’re going to a salon?”

“No, the salon came here. Lizzie and Lindsay have already had their hair done. Sarah-Charlotte is next. We don’t know what to do about Eve. She hasn’t called and isn’t here.”

Janie could not worry about Eve, who would do the best she could. Janie asked the only really important thing. “Has Reeve called?”

“A hundred times. He’s already dressed and ready to go to the church and his brother is tying him to a chair because they can’t leave for two and a half hours.”