The Lights of Tenth Street (41 page)

She found herself nodding at his back as he moved away, shaking a few more hands and sharing words of welcome with others he recognized. She took her seat again, curious as she watched him work the aisle. He looked like he truly cared about those he spoke to, making people feel at home.

Ronnie picked the final textbook off the shelf and rechecked her course list. That had to be everything. She hefted the tall stack of books in her arms. Time to find out the damage. She waited in the long checkout line, and held her breath as the cashier hit a few keys.

“That’ll be two hundred and eighty-three dollars.”

Ronnie winced. “I was afraid you were going to say something like that. Do I need to get all these books right away, or are there some that I can wait a few weeks?”

The cashier—a middle-aged woman with orangey hair—shrugged. “No idea, doll. You want ’em or not?”

Ronnie glanced at the line behind her, which wound among the bookshelves, at least fifteen people deep. The girl behind her looked at her watch.

“Um …”

“Look, we can’t wait all day for you to decide. Either pay or come back when you know what you need.”

Ronnie felt a tap on her shoulder. The girl behind her leaned forward, a small smile on her face as she gestured at one of Ronnie’s thick textbooks.

“You have Barnes for Biology 101?”

“Yes.”

“He spends the first part of class going over a high school refresher. He won’t get to the textbook for at least two weeks. And I bet you won’t need half of those little literature books until later in the summer. Just keep the main text and you’ll be fine for a bit.”

“Thanks.” Ronnie gave a sigh of relief as she separated out the unnecessary purchases. “I feel totally clueless today.”

“Everyone is the first week of school.”

The cashier scowled and gave Ronnie the new total—one hundred dollars less than the original. Ronnie paid in cash and retreated with another word of thanks to the girl.

She stepped out onto the sidewalk and glanced at her watch. She would need to hustle to make it to work on time.

The next morning, Ronnie tried to stifle another yawn as she climbed the stairs heading for her second class. She saw a familiar face coming toward her and paused, glad for the excuse to rest.

“Hi, Mr. Woodward.”

“Good morning, Ronnie.” He peered at her in the green-tinted light that filtered through the old windows. “Goodness, you look tired.”

“Yeah.” Ronnie gave another huge yawn. “I had to work late last night and didn’t get much sleep.”

“I can see that. Too bad you have a nine o’clock class this morning.”

“It’s the only time they offer Biology 101 in the summer.”

“Well, maybe after classes you can go home and take a rest.”

No, after classes I need to go to work and exhaust myself all night
.

Ronnie gave him a noncommittal smile. “Maybe. At least tomorrow’s Saturday.”

“Are you getting a sense of how you’ll balance things, putting yourself through school and all?”

“Um … not yet. Soon, I hope.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. And remember to come see me if you need anything.”

D
oug Turner grabbed his suit coat off the back of his chair and stepped out of his office. Mary was on the phone.

“I’ll be back in forty-five minutes. I have to get something to eat.”

Mary put her hand over the receiver, calling after him. “Don’t forget the executive strategy meeting at three o’clock. New client.”

Doug looked at his watch and sighed. “Make it thirty minutes, then.”

He headed downstairs and out the door, making a beeline for a bustling little deli nearby. This pace was crazy. Almost two-thirty and he hadn’t eaten yet. But what else was new? He was making a concerted effort these days to be home by seven—not seven-thirty or eight-thirty like before—but that meant he needed to get to work extra early, often leaving before anyone was up.

The kids, at least, appreciated his extra attentiveness, even if they didn’t know the reason for it. Sherry probably did, too, but they still weren’t at ease with each other. He ached for the day she would give him a spontaneous hug and snuggle into his arms like she used to early in their marriage, secure in his love for her, before the stresses of life had begun to pull them apart. There had been a few signs of their old playfulness returning, but too few—and they only made him yearn for the old ways all the more. With God’s help, he held out hope. It was the hope that was keeping him sane.

That and the surprising support of their home group. It had been so hard to confess—in general terms—what he and Sherry were going through. But after that astonishing church service when they felt moved to stand up and support their pastor, it somehow made it easier. They had little left to lose. And they had unexpectedly gained so much. Their home group had become a haven for them, a place of desperate honesty, a place where everyone knew all their stuff and loved and supported them anyway. Doug had never seen anything like it, and he was quite sure the church hadn’t either. Pastor Steven’s sermon that day had started an earthquake, and it seemed the rumblings were getting stronger with time.

For the tenth time that day, he thanked God for surrounding him and his wife with such dedicated friends, and for helping him to stay pure. He’d had some mighty struggles, but the protections he and Sherry put in place had—to
his surprise—really helped. With his Internet filtering software on all his computers—unbeknownst to his colleagues, he had even installed a copy at work—he could no longer access those awful sites. And since Sherry was now checking his credit card bill, he wouldn’t be able to pay for them even if he could. Amazing the pressure it took off, knowing former failing points were no longer an option!

At times when he’d been tempted to get around the system—to sneak into a bookstore on his lunch hour to buy a dirty magazine, or to take a quick detour to a shop selling
X
-rated videos—he’d called Eric or Pastor Steven. Even though he had to force himself to make the calls, once made, they brought such freedom. Knowing that his brothers knew his weakness and loved and supported him anyway had empowered him to somehow resist the temptations even more.

He snapped open the cell phone as he stepped into the deli, noisy and crowded even at this hour. The voice mail answered and he left a quick message.

“Hi, sweetheart. Okay, I’m at the deli. It’s … 2:35, and I’ll probably be here for twenty minutes. Then I have to run back for a meeting at 3:00. You can call me back, or since Mary is at her desk you can check with her if you’d like. I love you.”

He hung up and clipped the phone back in its holster, thinking how mortifying it had been at first; reporting his whereabouts to his wife any time he left the office, allowing her to call and check with Mary to corroborate his whereabouts. It had been even more mortifying to bring Mary into his confidence and explain in vague terms why he needed her patience with Sherry’s repeated calls. But now, weeks later, it was no longer humiliating; it was just the way it was, the way it needed to be to reassure his precious wife. God was dealing with his pride, too, he realized. And that couldn’t be a bad thing. Once he gave up his pride it had somehow allowed Sherry to trust him just a little more, allowed her to make the repeated check-ins almost a game between them, her way of helping him without fear. And anything lighthearted was a boon these days.

Doug gave his order at the deli counter, then took his sandwich, chips, and soda to one of the small tables that lined the shop, said a quick prayer and thankfully dug in.

He had to admit his constant check-ins provided him very little leeway, which had helped in several moments of weakness. He was sure that, if he had wanted to, he could have figured out a way around the system, could have still found a way to sneak around.

But he didn’t want to. He was being healed, was feeling freedom for the first time in his adult life. The last thing he wanted was to provide the enemy a new foothold. He knew if he even cracked the door the tiniest bit, that could be enough.

The phone at his belt vibrated—there was no way to hear a ring in here—and he opened it without looking at the readout.

“Sherry?”

There was a pause. “No, Doug. Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Sorry, Jordan. I was expecting a call from my wife.”

“Ah. Before the meeting at three, can you check your calendar and make sure you’re available for a get-together next Saturday with our new client?”

“Saturday? I’m sorry, I need to keep that free—”

“I guess I wasn’t clear, Doug. I need you to be there. I just needed to make sure you weren’t planning to be out of town.”

“Maybe I should go out of town.” Doug sighed. “Saturday is family day, chief, you know that.”

“Not this weekend. Just check and make sure you have it on your calendar. We’ll need to confirm with the new client at the three o’clock meeting.”

Before Doug could respond, the line went dead. He polished off his sandwich with no further enjoyment and hurried back to the office. Mary caught him at the door.

“Did Jordan find you?”

Despite himself, Doug made a face and Mary suppressed a giggle.

“Yes, he did. Something about a get-together next Saturday?”

“That’s it.”

“Do me a favor. I couldn’t get ahold of Sherry. Would you keep trying her while I’m in the meeting and explain the situation? We weren’t planning on being out of town, which seemed to be the only excuse Jordan would accept. I guess I’m hoping she has something scheduled that we just can’t get out of. Buzz my cell phone to let me know. Just leave a text message.”

The new client wrapped up his introduction and looked around the small conference table with a self-satisfied air. He pointed at several graphics on the conference screen behind him.

“So you see how the production triangle fits together—we provide the digitizing and production technology that allows a signal to be sent and received, our clients provide the content to be broadcast, and our partners provide the satellite space. Since you geniuses have the capability to link diverse systems, we need you to develop the protocols for linking the triangle—linking our hardware, their content, and the software necessary to actually complete a satellite broadcast.”

Doug raised a finger. “So it sounds like your ultimate purpose is to be a one-stop
shop for anyone looking to get content from point-to-point via satellite broadcast. Like what sort of content—television shows?”

“Like anything you would want or need to be broadcast by satellite, which these days is almost anything. It doesn’t have to just be television signals. It can be anything from a television commercial to a sophisticated code that will remotely operate robotic hardware. It really doesn’t matter what sort of signal it is.”

Doug’s phone vibrated at his waist, and as another person in the meeting asked a question, he took a surreptitious glance at the readout.

Wife says
, “
If you have to, you have to. I’ll take the kids to White Water that day.
”

Doug sighed, though he could hardly blame Sherry for going ahead and scheduling the outing without him, given how unpredictable his work schedule was at times.

Twenty minutes later, Jordan and his new client stood and shook hands like the old friends they apparently were.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for the opportunity to do a deal with you all,” Jordan said, “and this looks like a good fit. We’ll send you a package in the next few days. In the meantime, we’re all on for the yacht party Saturday, if you and your partners are still able to join us.”

The client’s face lit up. “Ah, Saturday. I’ve been looking forward to it. You took one of my partners to a party like this before, not long ago, and Wade hasn’t stopped talking about it yet. Wade said—”

“Everyone got it on your calendars?” the COO asked, looking around the room.

Doug was watching the exuberance on the face of their new client. The man looked like a child who’d just been handed a bag of Halloween candy and couldn’t wait to dive in.

Very odd, Doug thought. It was just a boat party. Probably a long, hot day of sitting on the deck of a cramped cruiser and pretending to enjoy the shallow company and conversation. He couldn’t wait until it was over.

Tyson’s e-mail chimed. Another note from Proxy.

This would be so easy. Their investigator had uncovered further evidence that this target was desperately concerned about losing his wife and would do anything to keep her. Even if Marco’s girl failed, they would have plenty of pictures of the target lounging on the deck of a ship, surrounded by lovely young things wearing nothing much at all.

S
aturday dawned clear with a hint of rising warmth in the air. Ronnie Hanover checked an on-line weather site and learned it should get into the seventies. Yippee. At least her skin wouldn’t turn blue.

Ronnie showered and shoved a bikini and a change of clothes into her carry bag. She stared at the stack of untouched textbooks on her floor. “Why did I agree to this? What was I thinking?”

There was a quick knock on the door, and Tiffany poked her head into the room. “Ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Oh, stop grousing, girl! You sound like my mother. This’ll be fun!” Tiffany bounced into the room and picked up Ronnie’s carryall. “Good food, good drinks … and lots of cash for a short day’s work.”

“I still don’t know why I agreed to it.”