Don't Take Any Wooden Nickels (45 page)

“Now remember, Verlene,” I said, “it wasn’t the whole company that was awful. Just the head of that one division. And you can rest assured that she won’t be conducting business of any kind for a very long time.”

I thought of the list of charities that Maureen had used to funnel money through CNA, the list that Litman thought I had burned. According to the authorities, in the end it had turned out that every single one of the donor businesses on that list was a fake, just like Manno Seafood, each one set up to help facilitate the smuggling process in one way or another. I thought, as I often did when I uncovered fraud hidden in a charity, just how frustrating the nonprofit world could be. In the case of CNA, they had violated one of the basic tenets of any company—for-profit or nonprofit alike—and that was to make sure that there are good internal controls so that one person can never subvert operations to their own purposes.

“How’s your friend,” Verlene asked me, “the detective who was in the hospital?”

“Gordo went home yesterday,” I said. “He’s still a mess, but they think he’ll eventually have a full recovery.”

“I sure hope so.”

“In the meantime, my friend Eli and his wife are going to stay with Gordo for a week or two, to help him get settled and to make sure he’s got the proper in-home care. Eli’s wife is rich, you know, and apparently she’s decided to make Gordo her new pet project.”

“Lucky him.”

“Well, not really,” I said. “But he’s a survivor. He’ll be okay in the end.”

“How about you?” Verlene asked. “How are you feeling?”

I smiled.

“I’m almost fine,” I said. “I just seem to tire more easily, but the doctor said that’s to be expected.”

“Well, good,” she said, flashing me a brilliant smile and stepping back to take in my new look. “I’ve got to say, you look absolutely stunning. I do believe this is the single best makeover I’ve ever seen!”

“Now wait a minute,” I heard from behind me. “Isn’t that the same thing you said to me when I had my hair done?”

We turned to see Shayna looking positively radiant in one of her new outfits from Advancing Attire. She was holding firmly to the arm of Hank, who beamed like a kid on his birthday.

Much to my surprise, I realized that standing next to them was Shayna’s public defender, Max Nealson.

“Ms. Webber,” he said, shaking my hand. “Nice to see you again.”

I must’ve seemed shocked to see him there, because he laughed and then told me to wipe that look off of my face.

“What was it you said to me that day in my office?” he asked. “‘Better late than never’?”

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I was just worried about my friend.”

“Don’t apologize. Thanks to you, I decided that some changes needed to be made down at the Public Defender’s office. I’ve started advocating for a more realistic workload, and apparently my concerns were heard. They’ve just put through a request to hire two additional attorneys.”

“That’s wonderful,” I told him, meaning it.

We shook hands again, and then I turned to see Dewey and Murdock and even Stinky, who didn’t look half bad all cleaned up and changed into slacks and a sports jacket. We all chatted for a while and then I made my exit, happy to walk back toward my car and head home. I still wasn’t fully recovered, and the business of the afternoon had completely worn me out.

“Callie!”

I was just climbing into my car when I turned to see Shayna running toward me. She stopped in front of me, breathless, looking like a beautiful bird that was almost ready to take flight.

“I just wanted to say goodbye!” she said, grinning. “Goodbye and thank you. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you for what you did for me.”

I looked at her, at the kid who had made some dumb choices that had very nearly ruined her life. My deepest hope was that she had learned her lesson and that she wouldn’t settle for less than she deserved ever again.

“You want to pay me back?” I said, noticing movement out of the corner of my eye. I glanced over toward Main Street, where I watched as Kirby Collins pulled out of his parking space and drove away, Verlene’s lovely daughter comfortably buckled into the seat by his side. Seeing them together gave me a sense of happiness, and that made me realize, once and for all, that although I enjoyed being with Kirby, there wasn’t, and never had been, anything between us except friendship. I focused my attention back on Shayna.

“You want to pay me back?” I asked again. “Then do this for me. Promise me you’ll never allow a man into your life simply out of loneliness. There are plenty of good reasons to have a relationship, Shayna, but ‘just so there’s someone there to hold my hand’ isn’t one of them.”

She seemed to consider what I had to say. Finally, she nodded.

“I promise,” she said earnestly.

“You have a second chance here,” I said. “You’ve already accepted Christ as your Savior. Now you need to give your life over to Him
fully.
He has a plan for you. I know it’s a good one, but now you’ve got to put Him at the very center of your life.”

She thanked me and then we hugged and said our goodbyes. I got in my car and was just pulling away when I heard my name shouted, once again. This time it was Verlene, waving at me from among the small crowd on Main Street.

I rolled down the window and leaned out.

“Yes?” I called.

Verlene stood there among the gathering of friends and well-wishers, looking for all the world like a woman who was in her element. I was reminded again of the good works she did, of the way her efforts rippled out from small acts like waves from a stone thrown into a pond. With enough people devoting their lives to full-time nonprofit service, we really could change the world, I thought, one little person at a time.

“Don’t forget about next Sunday!” she cried. “The Ladies Circle Dinner, at church. Are you going?”

I wanted to roll my eyes. I wanted to step on the accelerator and get out of there. But then I looked back at her expectant face, and I knew what the Lord wanted me to do.

“Count me in,” I told her, trying not to groan. “I’ll be there.”

I drove straight home, hoping I would be able to grab a few moments on the water. Once there, I didn’t even take the time to change out of my tweed slacks and into something more comfortable. Instead, I simply let Sal out of the house, and we walked down to the dock together. There was going to be a lovely sunset this evening, and despite my fatigue I wanted to enjoy it from the canoe.

I started slow and easy, because this was the first time I had gone out since being discharged from the hospital. After a while, though, I found myself soaring across the water, my exhaustion disappearing, my heart suddenly light and free. As I went, I thought about all that had happened in the last two weeks, and how it all had seemed to start with a silly little wooden nickel.

Don’t take any wooden nickels
was the saying, which I took to mean “Don’t grab onto something that only looks valuable, because it may not be.” Someone like Eddie Ray hadn’t known the difference, and he had managed to get himself killed.

I realized that, as a Christian, one of my jobs was to keep in mind, always, the things that truly are of value: Faith. Hope. Love. All the fruit of the Spirit.

It was time to pray. As I continued to paddle, I talked to God out loud, thanking Him for the lessons He had sent my way these past two weeks. Then I went down my list, praying for the people who had recently touched my life. I prayed for Shayna and her new start. I prayed for Hank and Dewey and Murdock and Stinky. I prayed for Barbara Hightower and Denise. I prayed for poor Gordo. I prayed for repentance for Russell and Tia Lynch and Agent Litman and the Tanigawa brothers. I prayed for the immigrants, for their health and their plight.

I prayed for Kirby, asking God to draw him into a closer relationship with Him and to provide him with guidance and new opportunities in the days ahead.

I prayed for my parents, and I asked for help in restoring our relationship.

Finally, I prayed for Tom, thanking God that He had put such a wonderful man in my life. As the sun set on the water in front of me, I raised the paddle over my head with both hands and looked up at the brilliant blue-and-purple sky.

“Thank You, God,” I said. “For this beautiful world, for Your awesome power.”

I lowered the paddle and looked at Sal, who was perched on the deck plate of the canoe, facing forward, ready for whatever might be coming her way.

“Thank You, God,” I added softly, “for helping to make me whole.”

Filled with a warm sense of well-being, I paddled on toward home, watching the sunset in the distance, gazing in wonder at the myriad of colors that streaked the autumn sky.

My reverie was broken, however, by the muffled ringing of my cell phone. I didn’t usually bring it with me out on the canoe, but I’d had it in my pocket at the ribbon-cutting ceremony and had forgotten about it. I hesitated before finally digging it out and answering, a little unwilling to lose the moment.

“Hello?” I said absently.

“Callie?”

It was Tom. My face broke into a smile, thinking that in the entire world, his was the only voice I felt like hearing on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Tom,” I said, much more warmly, “I didn’t expect it to be you.”

“Is this a bad time?” he asked, the connection sounding clear and strong even though he was half a world away. “Are you busy?”

“I’m out on the canoe. It’s okay. What’s up?”

I cradled the phone against my ear with my shoulder and attempted an awkward maneuver with the paddle. I’d made a few strokes before I realized he wasn’t answering me.

“Tom?”

I could hear him exhale slowly.

“Callie, did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” he asked finally, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

“Find out what?”

“How hurt you were. Exactly what happened that night.”

I closed my eyes. Even though I had hoped we wouldn’t be having this conversation, I had known all along that it was inevitable. He knew too much; he learned too much. Eventually, he’d had to find out.

“Obviously, it took a while for the news to catch up to me,” he continued. “It seems you weren’t ever going to tell me about it yourself.”

“It’s just that you’re so far away, Tom. Between your work and your mother, I didn’t want to burden you with my problems, too.”

He was silent for a moment.

“Didn’t you think I deserved to know?” he asked, his dear, familiar voice cracking with emotion. “Didn’t you think I cared?”

I’d never meant to hurt him. “I know you care,” I whispered, my heart fluttering in my chest. “Believe me, I know you do.”

I switched the phone to the other ear and tried again to paddle. The sun had dipped below the horizon now, and it would be dark soon.

“I’m sorry, Tom,” I said earnestly, wanting to reassure him. “I’m doing so much better now that I didn’t think it was necessary to give you the whole story.”

“You’re really doing better?” he asked, sounding somewhat placated.

“I am,” I said. “I promise.”

Floating with the current, I slowly rounded the final bend toward home. In the gathering darkness, I could see up ahead that someone was standing on my dock. Distracted, I asked Tom to hold on while I brought the boat in, telling him that I needed both hands free. I carefully set the phone in my lap and then paddled quickly, guiding the canoe toward the landing.

At first I thought it was Kirby standing there waiting for me, especially given the nice shoes, the creased gray pants, the tasteful black dress coat. But then as I drew closer, I realized that it wasn’t Kirby after all. This man was just as handsome, but he was taller, with dark hair and broad shoulders.

“Hang on another minute, Tom,” I said, picking up the phone and speaking into it. “I’m just home, and somebody’s here at the dock.”

I set the phone by my feet, coasted in, and then climbed from the boat, pulling it onto the shore. As I tied off the rope, Sal jumped out and ran to the man, sniffing at the cuffs of his tailored slacks.

“Can I help you?” I asked, grabbing the phone from the bottom of the canoe and holding it at my side.

The man didn’t reply for a moment, but when he did, it was to say my name, his tone deep and instantly familiar.

“Callie,” he said, looking down at my phone and then back at my face. “It’s me.”

It wasn’t until that moment that I noticed the cell phone in his hand as well. He pressed the button to disconnect it, and then he took a step toward me on the dock. As he did, I saw that on the front of his suit jacket, peeking out from under his coat, was a big red mum.

I gasped, air rushing to fill my lungs. He stepped toward me again, but I backed away.

“You’re in Singapore,” I said, shaking my head, trying to align reality with what I was seeing and hearing. I held my phone to my ear, but the line had been disconnected. As I fumbled to turn it off, tears sprung unexpectedly into my eyes.

“No, I’m not. I needed to be here with you,” he replied gently. “Business in Singapore can wait.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding, my voice caught somewhere in my throat. I didn’t trust myself to speak, didn’t trust myself to do anything but stand there and gaze at him, trying to match the voice of the man I knew so well with this handsome stranger. Finally, I dropped my phone onto the grass and took a tentative step toward him.

That’s all he needed. A smile teasing at his lips, he crossed the wooden slats of the dock, walking until he stood on the grass in front of me. He reached out and put one warm hand on my arm. I looked up at him, searching for the person I knew inside, thinking that even if I didn’t recognize his face, the man behind those beautiful eyes was already my very best friend in the world. I smiled, and then I whispered his name.

“Tom.”