This Side of Heaven Page 25

  “Josh loved you. He had a lot to work through, and he wanted to find his daughter. But he always saw you as part of his future plans. At least he prayed you might be.”

  Becky dropped her gaze to her hands. “That only makes it worse.”

  Annie understood what she meant. All along the process of discovering who Josh had really been, she’d experienced that same feeling: that the depth of Josh’s loss grew the more good she found out about him. But that’s not the way God wanted either of them to feel about Josh, and now it was Annie’s responsibility to help relieve Becky of the burden she was carrying.

  “You need to understand something.” Again Annie put her hand over that of the young woman across from her. “You’ll keep Josh in your heart, the same way I’ll keep him. But you need to let your guilt and regrets go.” Annie hoped she sounded sincere. “Josh made his own decisions, and it took him a little longer to understand the sort of life you wanted.”

  “I didn’t want any sort of life, though.” She looked up and there were tears on her cheeks. “I wanted Josh. That’s all.”

  “I want him, too. Just for ten more minutes so I can tell him how proud I am of all he was, all I didn’t know about him.” Annie gave a slow shake of her head. “But that isn’t going to happen for either of us.” She thought about Savannah. “Not this side of heaven, anyway.”

  “I feel like I missed out on a kind of love I’ll never know again.”

  “But you will.” Annie wanted the young woman to believe that. Otherwise she would be paralyzed by her past. “You’ll love again, but first you need to let go of Josh and everything you’re feeling about him.”

  “How?” Her question seemed trapped in a heart that had never rebounded from a love she’d found when she was only fifteen years old. “How do I move on?”

  “You tell yourself that you can only keep those times you and Josh did have. Beyond that, you can’t grasp at days that never existed. For all you know, you and Josh might’ve been too different to make another go at things.”

  Becky seemed to ponder that for a few seconds. “Maybe. Still, I don’t know if I can go a day without wondering.”

  “Wondering is part of life. As long as it doesn’t keep you from living.”

  Their dinners came and they talked about Becky’s job as a therapist, and a young man at the practice who’d asked her out to dinner twice in the past month. Josh didn’t come up again until the end of the conversation, after the meal was over. “I still see him, this dark-haired gorgeous guy sitting in the stands at the first football game our sophomore year.” Becky’s eyes grew distant, the memory clearly alive again. “Everyone was talking about him, but after the game he came and found me. He said it’d been a long time.” She laughed.

  “Let me guess—the two of you had never met until then.” Annie would always remember her son’s sense of humor.

  “Not once.” She lifted her hands and let them fall back to her lap. “He was making the whole thing up, pretending that we’d met at a game the previous year, when he attended the school across town. By the time I figured out he was only teasing me, it was too late. I’d already fallen for him.”

  “And he for you.” Annie remembered. “He came home after one of the football games that fall and told me he’d met the girl he was going to marry. She had blond hair the color of sunshine and her name was Becky.”

  A wistfulness clouded Becky’s eyes. “I guess we’ll never know.”

  “Which is why you can’t spend today wondering about yesterday, my dear. Josh is gone.” The words would always hurt to voice them. “He’s gone and you have to let him go. It’s what he would’ve wanted for you.”

  She still didn’t look sure. “You believe in God, right?”

  “Of course. I talk to Jesus all the time.” Becky’s cheeks grew slightly red in anticipation of what was coming. “I ask Him to tell Josh how sorry I am, and that I never stopped loving him.”

  “Okay, then . . . I want to give you something.” She pulled a small greeting card from her purse and handed it over. “Read it.”

  Becky opened the envelope and read the inside of the card. Besides restating everything Annie had already said, the card contained the Bible verse that had meant so much to Josh in his final days. Psalm 119:50.

  “ ‘My comfort in my suffering is this: Your promise preserves my life,’ ” Becky read the verse out loud. “Really? That verse meant a lot to Josh?”

  “Right up until his death.” Annie crossed her arms, warding off the sadness that threatened to consume her. “I think Josh would want you to take that verse to heart. Stay grounded in God’s Word, Becky. Let the Lord’s truth revive you so that you can date that young man from your work, and so you can let Josh take his rightful place in your life. As a part of your past, a very fond part.”

  For the first time since Annie had spotted Becky sitting at the booth, the young woman’s eyes looked less troubled, as if a cloud had lifted from her heart. The process of letting Josh go wouldn’t happen in an instant or overnight. But this was a beginning, and Annie felt sure she’d done the right thing by meeting with her. They said their goodbyes and agreed to stay in touch. Annie had a feeling that someday in the not too distant future, she and Nate would be invited to Becky Wheaton’s wedding.

  Night had fallen as she drove home to Nate. They had plans to watch Monday Night Football that evening and go over the last phase of Nate’s reelection plans. The election had taken a backseat in their lives since Josh’s death, and neither of them felt driven to return to the frenzy for votes that had defined their lives prior to losing their son. They were involved in their church’s Bible study again and were planning to take meals to the homebound starting in January.

  The settlement funds had been transferred to Savannah in care of her mother, and at any time she expected to hear from Thomas that Maria had changed her phone number or moved without any forwarding address. Thomas explained how at the last minute he’d worked out the settlement so that Maria couldn’t have access to all of it right away. But the details no longer mattered. The money was gone, and very soon Savannah would be gone, too.

  In the meantime, she comforted herself with something Cody Gunner had told her that afternoon in Josh’s apartment. In light of Josh’s faith, Cody and his wife had figured Josh was just starting to live. Annie understood now how true that was.

  He really had just started to live. Just not the way she and Nate and Lindsay and the others had expected.

  The beautiful thing was this: She hadn’t only discovered what her son meant to other people, the sort of true success he’d been while he was alive, but she’d discovered something about herself, as well. In taking over the love and friendships Josh had begun, Annie had become a better person in the process. More of the person God had intended her to be.

  If only she could have forced Maria Cameron into a shared custody arrangement with Savannah. Then she could be absolutely sure that not only would she spend the rest of her days proud that Josh was her son, but that he would spend eternity proud that she was his mother. She pulled into the driveway, parked her car in the garage, and found Nate waiting for her inside.

  “How was dinner?” He pulled her into his embrace and rocked her slowly.

  “Good. I told her she needs to move on. Let Josh go because that’s what Josh would’ve wanted for her.”

  Nate nodded. “The game’s already started.”

  “I figured.” She set her purse down. “Any score?”

  “Not yet.” Nate moved to sit down, but then he stopped himself. “I almost forgot. There was a message for you on the machine when I got home. Thomas Flynn. He wants you to call him first thing in the morning.”

  Annie nodded absently as she took her place beside her husband. Thomas was good about giving her updates on the case, even now, after it was long since settled and the funds dispersed. She stretched out her legs and focused her attention on the football game. When it came to the lawsuit or the painful t
ime after Josh’s accident, Annie believed God wanted her to take the same advice she’d given Becky. Let it go and move on.

  No matter what bit of information Thomas had for her this time.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Maria didn’t want to admit to herself that she was worried. Harry Dreskin would take care of the mess she was in. Ever since she met him, Harry always took care of her messes, right? She gripped the bars of her jail cell and shouted at an officer as he walked by. “Where’s my attorney? He should’ve been here an hour ago.”

  The officer scowled at her. “When he shows up, we’ll tell you.”

  “That’s not good enough.” She cursed at the man and stormed to the opposite side of the boxy cell. She’d been sitting here for nearly three days, and she hadn’t talked to Harry Dreskin since she was arrested. How was she supposed to get out of here if he didn’t make more of an effort?

  Two men were fighting in a cell across the hall, yelling at each other, getting on Maria’s nerves. “Shut up!” she screamed. “Officer, get back here and tell them to shut up!”

  They turned on her instead, shouting vile things at her. Maria didn’t care. She tuned them out and sat on the wooden bunk bed in the corner of the cell. Ever since her arrest she’d done everything in her power to get her attorney back to the jail, back into a conversation about what might happen next.

  What worried Maria was Harry’s attitude. Normally, her lawyer was as cocky and full of himself as any man she’d ever met. Harry prided himself on finding ways around the system. Creative representation, he called it. Caught writing a bad check? Harry could make it look like a mistake. Public intoxication? A case of depression gone bad. The slap across Savannah’s face? An exaggeration on the part of the restaurant employees. Harry hated judges, all judges. If he thought he had even the slimmest chance of winning a case, he made promises and predictions and he bragged about his abilities until the victory was his.

  But this time Harry had promised her nothing.

  An hour after her arrest, he’d met her at the jail. They sat in a windowless conference room for thirty minutes. Harry had spent half the time poring over the booking sheet, stopping only to ask a snappy question or two. “You kiddin’ me, Maria? You stole two grand from a pawnshop in Harlem?”

  “I needed start-up money.” Maria was indignant. “I told the guy I’d pay him back in a week. So what?”

  “You tried to buy a bag of coke from a cop?”

  “He wasn’t exactly wearing a uniform, okay?”

  He read a little more and his eyes opened wider. “With your kid standing there watching?”

  Savannah was a sore subject right now. “Keep her out of it.” Maria had wanted to kick the guy in the leg. “Come on, Harry. Give me a pep talk. That’s what I need, because you’re the best, right? Isn’t that why I hired you?”

  Harry didn’t respond. He read the details on the booking sheet again, pointing at a line here and there and shaking his head. “This is bad stuff. Real bad.”

  “Quit it, Harry. You’re scaring me.” She gave him a light shove in his shoulder. “This is just like the other times. No big deal, right?”

  “First”—Harry’s tone changed—“don’t shove me.” He straightened his coat sleeve. “Second, hittin’ up a pawnshop and dealing to a cop’s a very big deal. Especially with your rap sheet. You could lose your kid for good this time, Maria. I mean it.” He raised a wary eyebrow at her. “What kinda down payment you got?”

  Maria had been stumped by the question. “I just paid you thirty grand. What do you mean down payment?”

  “That was my cut a’ the settlement.” He thumped his chest. “I earned that. This”—he flicked the booking sheet—“is a new case. I don’t work for free, got it?”

  “Okay.” Maria thought about the money. “I can afford you. So get on it, already.”

  “I need up-front money. When I come back I want two g’s to get started on this mess.”

  Their thirty minutes was up, and Harry told her he’d be back in the next day or two. Only she hadn’t heard a word from him since then and it was going on the end of the third day. She dropped her head in her hands and tried once more to shut out the shouting from across the hall. What had she gotten herself into? This was supposed to be the beginning of the big time, the best days of her life.

  She went over the series of events again and tried to figure out where things had gone wrong. The answer was easy.

  Josh Warren.

  The guy had been bad news from the beginning, talking about his plans for success and then failing to see a single one of them come to pass. He’d gone and knocked her up, and once her old man ditched her she was nothing but a single lady with a kid on her hip. Savannah was a nice girl, but she’d cramped Maria’s style long enough. What sort of big time was she going to find trying to make a living for the two of them?

  She’d believed Josh Warren, thought he’d be good for eighteen years of monthly payments, but he’d let her down. And since she couldn’t count on him for child support when Savannah was a baby, what was she thinking to count on him for the settlement money? Maria rubbed her thumbs into her temples. Her head pounded, her body screaming for a drink. Sure, the settlement seemed like the answer to all her cares. Like she’d hit the lottery without buying a single ticket. But when the money finally came there were more strings on it than a frayed sofa.

  Thomas Flynn saw to that.

  Right off the money went into an account with Savannah’s name—not hers—on it. Maria told Harry to fix the problem, but he told her his hands were tied. The money belonged to Savannah, not Maria. Then she found out about some guy called an administrator who had the job of giving Maria a couple thousand dollars a month. Pennies, really.

  “The stipend is intended so that Savannah is taken care of. The rest of the money can only be withdrawn by Savannah, and only on or after her eighteenth birthday,” Harry told her.

  “How ’bout if I’m the administrator?”

  “Flynn said you can’t be because you have a criminal record. I checked it out, and he’s right. Nothing I can do about it.”

  Thomas Flynn had a lot of nerve, rubbing that in her face. Everyone had a past. With two million dollars she had every intention of being a respectable mother. But on two grand a month? What did the system expect, that she’d get a job waiting tables to supplement the money?

  Harry suggested she draw up an expense sheet, prove to the judge that she needed more money to keep Savannah comfortable. Five g’s or maybe seven a month. But Maria never got around to writing up the details. She ran into one of Freddy’s guys first. Big Pete was his name, and he gave her an idea for making money all on her own, without Savannah’s help or the administrator’s permission. A career only she could take credit for. “It’s a business venture,” he told her. “But you’ll need start-up cash.”

  The venture turned out to be dealing drugs to high rollers, guys who took the subway each morning to Manhattan’s financial district. “We got no one running drugs for that crowd.” Big Pete winked at her. “With your looks, shouldn’t take no time to get clientele.”

  It was Big Pete’s idea that Maria hit the pawnshop. “I know the guy who runs it.” Pete shrugged. “Go in on a Friday night. Make like you got a gun in your pocket and when he gives you the cash, tell him you’re good for it. You’ll pay him back in a few days.”

  Big Pete set up the buy. Maria would take the money and meet secretly with one of the biggest drug dealers in the city. She’d buy a half-gallon bag of coke and break it into smaller bags. “You’ll triple your investment in a week,” Big Pete said. “Oh, and I’ll get twenty percent of everything you make—since you’re using my contacts.”

  Maria wasn’t sure what went wrong. She got the money without a hitch, wore the ski mask, kept her identity a secret, the whole nine yards. The day of the big buy, she went to the right corner, looked for the guy with the right description, and used the right code words. Only instead of some big-
time drug dealer the guy she tried to buy from was an undercover cop.

  A frustrated sigh slid through her teeth. Figures. And now even Harry was worried. Maria stood and walked from one side of the cell to the other. Harry was wrong. She’d get through this and find the big time on the other side. Big Pete had given her an idea. If the high rollers from the financial district took the subway every morning, then she could do the same thing. She could take some of the monthly stipend money and fix herself up real nice. A better haircut, better clothes. And then some morning soon she would hit on the right guy and all her problems would be solved.

  All except two.

  When was she going to get out of jail, and what was she going to do with Savannah?

  Two weeks had passed since Thomas learned of Maria Cameron’s arrest, and as he hung up the phone with the social worker, he could hardly believe how quickly the system was working. Especially less than a week before Christmas. The way things were happening, it was like God was moving heaven and earth to help Savannah find her way home for the holidays.

  Thomas stared out the window at the rainy Denver sky and reminded himself of all that had transpired in the past fourteen days. After Maria’s arrest, the investigating officer found evidence on more than just the crimes in question. Maria was now being charged with enough to send her to prison for at least twenty years. She’d confessed to using a gun in the robbery and, on top of that, the investigating officers were able to connect her with a bad-check writing ring. All that combined with her attempt to buy from an undercover officer, and no one thought Maria would see the light of day before Savannah turned eighteen.

  Thomas even called Harry Dreskin, Maria’s less than reputable attorney, and the man had been straight about his client. “She’s got no money. I’m repping her as a favor.” He sounded weary of the case. “I’m gonna try to cop a plea for five years, but I’ll be happy with ten.”

  Harry said he’d shared the information with Child Protective Services for two reasons. “First, the kid deserves a family if she can get one. Second, Maria doesn’t want to be a mother. Not in prison or out. She’s tired of pretending.”