Mother's Promise (32 page)

“I thought we'd eat out on the balcony. It's such a lovely night.”

“Works for me.” Ben tossed the salad with the dressing she handed him and then filled two side plates with the mixture. “What else, chief?”

Darcy fought the urge to cringe. She didn't want to be someone he thought of as
chief.
She wanted him to think of her in more romantic terms. “I'll dish up the pasta and sauce and take the bread from the warmer and we'll be all set. Why don't you refill our glasses and take the salads out to the table?”

Once they were seated, Darcy raised her glass to his. “To Sally's speedy recovery,” she said.

He clinked his glass to hers and took a sip before starting in on his meal. “Rachel Kaufmann offered to pray for Sally,” he said as he focused on buttering his bread.

“Well, that's kind of her area, isn't it?” Was it Darcy's imagination or was her tone a bit critical? “I mean, she is part of the spiritual care team.”

“How's she doing with that?”

“As far as I can tell there have been no more incidents since the time she invited Zeke Shepherd to play for the children. The supervisor from the certification board seems quite impressed with her work. And as I mentioned before, Paul Cox thinks she's pretty near perfect.”

“And what do you think?” Ben's voice was quiet, and he was watching her closely. “Are you going to back Paul's recommendation to make her position permanent once she's certified?”

“Will I have a choice?” Now she knew she sounded peevish. But Rachel Kaufmann had a way of inserting herself into Darcy's private time with Ben, and she seemed capable of doing that without even being on the premises. “Let's not talk about work, okay?”

“Sorry. This sauce is fabulous. What's your secret?”

“Well, I could tell you but then I'd have to shoot you, so best to leave it a secret. After all, if you really like it and know that this is the only place you can get it, then that's all to my advantage.”

“Touché.” He smiled, but it was evident as the meal continued that he was distracted.

Darcy tried several conversation openers that went nowhere. “You're still in Tampa, aren't you?” she asked after a long silence had stretched between them.

“Maybe. Probably.” He smiled and pushed his plate away as he leaned back and stretched his arms high over his head. He was looking out at the stars. “Do you think there's something out there, Darcy? I mean some higher being that's calling the shots?”

Religion was the very last topic of conversation she would have expected from Ben, but it was clear that this was something weighing on him. “I used to,” she admitted.

“What happened?”

“Nothing huge. I went off to the university and everything was about getting top grades so I could get into grad school, and by that time going to church had pretty much fallen by the wayside.”

“Do you miss it?”

Darcy did what she always did when she found herself asked a question that made her uncomfortable. She turned the tables. “Do you? I mean, your father was a minister, right?”

“Yeah. Pretty hard core at that.”

“Meaning?”

“I don't know. He'd preach about a loving God and then turn around and assure everyone that this same loving God was going to punish all the sinners in terrible and vicious ways. If there was a hurricane or a tornado, that was God's punishment or God's warning. If a famine struck halfway around the world, that was God's message that those people had sinned. If I thought unclean thoughts, God would know and there would be a price. I have to admit that I never really worked out how my feelings for my father affected my overall faith. I mean, the fact is that I do believe, but …”

“What brought all this on, Ben?”

He sighed heavily and stood up, moving to the railing of the balcony and continuing to study the night sky. “I don't know. I keep saying that I don't believe—that I'm a man of science. But there's a part of me that still sometimes wishes maybe there was something greater than us out there. Rachel said …”

Rachel. Rachel. Rachel.
Darcy thought she might actually scream. “Ben, Rachel Kaufmann is a devout Mennonite, and if she has you questioning what
you
believe, perhaps you can understand why I have such doubts about her as an ecumenical spiritual counselor especially for our younger patients.”

She knew that her voice sounded shrill and she was talking far too loudly. Still, she couldn't seem to stop. “I don't trust that woman, Ben. It was a mistake to hire her in the first place, and you may as well know that I plan to do everything I can to see that she is replaced at the end of her probationary period.”

Ben was staring at her as if she were someone he'd never seen before. To stop her tirade, she picked up her wine glass and drained the last dregs of wine. “Sorry about that,” she murmured. “Now I've gone and spoiled our lovely evening.” She started stacking their dishes.

“Hey.” Ben took the dishes from her and set them back on the table then led her inside to the sofa. “What's going on here?”

She was so tempted to tell him. To finally admit that she was jealous of Rachel. But how ridiculous was that? There was nothing between Ben and Rachel. The very idea that there could be was ludicrous. He admired the woman as he did any other coworker. So what?

“Don't mind me,” she said. “The truth is that from the first time we heard that woman's voice on the phone it seemed as if everyone simply accepted her, embraced her as the perfect candidate for the job and a wonderful addition to the entire team. I've never known that kind of instant acceptance, Ben. All my life I have had to fight for everything I've ever achieved.”

“So maybe you should stop fighting.”

“Give up?”

“Open up,” he corrected. “Have a little trust in others.”

“Like Rachel,” she said flatly.

“Like anyone you come in contact with. Have a little faith in people.”

“I thought you didn't believe in faith,” she said petulantly.

He hooked his forefinger under her chin to get her to look at him. “I never said I didn't believe, and this is about having faith in
people
, Darcy.” He kissed her forehead then and stood up. “It's late, and I want to get an early start back to Tampa tomorrow.”

“I could go with you.”

“Thanks, but it would be a waste of your time. Sally can't have visitors right now. Maybe after she gets home.” He brought the dishes in from the balcony and set them in the sink. “Hate to leave you with all this …”

“Go on. You've had a long day—and my meltdown wasn't exactly what you needed.”

“Stop that. You have a lot of pressure on you. The occasional meltdown is an occupational hazard. I'm glad I was here.” He walked to the door and then paused. “I would ask you”—he looked her in the eye—“to think about how your personal feelings might be influencing your view of Rachel, Darcy. I think she might be a very good addition to the team we're trying to build at Gulf Coast.”

Rachel. Always Rachel.
Darcy manufactured a smile. “Promise,” she said, holding up the three-fingered Girl Scout sign. “Give Sally my best.”

When Ben was gone, Darcy stood for a long time looking down the empty hallway toward the elevator. Not a single thing about this evening had gone according to plan. She had totally embarrassed herself and in the process made the serene Rachel look even more saintly.

With a growl of frustration, Darcy walked back inside her condo, slammed the door, and grabbed a fork. She took the cheesecake from the refrigerator, snapped off the springform pan, and carried the whole thing out to the balcony. There she curled herself into the chaise lounge and attacked the cake, shoveling bite after bite into her mouth until she felt as physically sick as she did emotionally wounded.

Chapter 19

W
as that your mom?”

Justin jumped when he heard Derek's low voice behind him after he and his mom had left the meeting with Mortimer and she had gone outside to wait for the bus to the hospital.

“Yeah.”

“Fat Sally told on us?”

Justin knew he should defend Sally, especially since she was sick again. “No. Mortimer figured it out.”

“Yeah, right.” Derek smirked. “What's with your mom and that hat? Is she some kind of nun or something?”

So here it was—the moment Justin had dreaded from the very first day. “We're Mennonite,” he muttered. “I have to go.”

Derek grabbed him by the shoulder and held on. “Whoa, dude. You mean you wear the dorky suspenders and stuff?”

“My mom dresses in the traditional way. Kids don't have to until …”

The bell rang, but Derek didn't budge.

“What did you tell Mortimer?”

“Nothing. Like I said, he'd already figured it out. He knows that you've been copying my homework, and he told me not to let you have it anymore. He's going to give you special tutoring during study period.”

Derek let out a howl that passed for a laugh. “Yeah, that'll happen. Now listen up, Kaufmann. You got us into this mess—or your little girlfriend did—so somebody pays. If you don't want to be that somebody, then you need to be sure Fat Sally gets the message loud and clear.”

“She's back in the hospital.”

“Even better. You live at her house, right?”

“Next door.” Justin did not like the way Derek was clutching his shoulder and looking at him. His eyes were wild and scary.

“Get me her glove,” he ordered.

“Her glove?”

“Her baseball glove, stupid.”

“I can't….”

“Here's the deal, Kaufmann. Either you get me that glove or life as you know it is going to change big-time.”

He pinched Justin's shoulder hard and then turned and left school.

Justin had seen what Derek did to those he didn't like. Once he had seen Derek actually shove one of the other boys up against a locker and hold him there until the boy nodded and promised to do anything Derek asked. It occurred to Justin that he wasn't really sure exactly how Derek might carry out his threat to make his life miserable, but he had no doubt that it would happen unless he got Sally's baseball glove.

Unexpectedly, his chance to deliver what Derek had demanded came that very night.

“Justin, I need your help,” his mom said as they were finishing up their supper. “I spoke with Mrs. Shepherd today and offered to do what I could to prepare the house for Sally to come home.”

“She's well again?”

“No. That will take time, but she's on medication that will help her. If all continues to go well, they hope to be home by the end of the week. Mr. Shepherd will return tomorrow. So after supper Zeke is going to meet us to open the house so we can clean it.”

“All of it?” Justin glanced toward the multistoried mansion.

“All of it,” his mom confirmed. “Zeke will help us, but it's very important to be sure that everything is as clean as possible. Sally is even more susceptible to germs and infection now that she's on these medicines.”

Justin chewed his lower lip. It was always fun being with Zeke. Nothing ever seemed to bother him. In fact, Justin thought he might tell the man about Derek's order, but then he remembered that Zeke was Sally's uncle. Telling him would only make things worse.

It was when his mom gave him the chore of gathering the trash from the wastebaskets in all the upstairs rooms that he saw his chance. There on a hook on the back of Sally's door was the baseball glove. He stood for a long time fingering the smooth leather.

He should have asked Derek why he wanted the glove. Maybe he just wanted to scare Sally. Surely that was it. Taking her glove was a warning and once she'd gotten the message then Derek would give it back.

But Sally hadn't done anything.

On the other hand Derek didn't believe that, and now that he knew about Justin being Mennonite he could make life miserable for him. Justin closed his eyes, shutting out the memory of how Derek picked on kids who were different—torturing a boy who wore thick glasses that kept slipping down his nose and another boy that Derek called a
fairy.