Gail Martin - Finding Christmas

“I’m just glad you came,” she said, beckoning him into the living room.

He followed her through the archway. “What’s happened? More voices?” He sank onto the sofa as she paced in front of him.

“A voice, but this time a real one.”

“A real one? What do you mean?”

“Telephone calls. I had two tonight.” She finally settled into a chair.

Benjamin winced, knowing he should have been there earlier. His chest tightened. “What kind of calls.”

“Anonymous. Nothing, but they upset me. I called the police, but they can’t do anything. I made a fool of myself.”

“No you didn’t. You felt threatened. So tell me exactly what happened.”

He listened as she detailed the incident. His mind tried to make sense of it. He understood why the police had passed it off. Two calls—hang-ups really. What could they do? “What’s going on at Solutions? Is someone frustrated with your status with the company?”

She shook her head. “I can’t imagine it being anyone from there. Certainly there’s tension at times, particularly in the powwow sessions when everyone has competing ideas, but no. No one would do that.”

“What about your promotion?”

“No. It’s no one from Solutions. I’m positive.”

“You never know.” He didn’t want to remind her that most crimes involved people who were family or friends.

“When Greg was alive, I learned to tolerate such calls. I’m sure you’ve had them. They were rare. Angry defendants usually blame the prosecuting attorney.” She looked at him as if seeking validation. “But why me, and why now? It’s morbid and awful.”

“It was a wrong number or a crank call. The world has some sick people.”

“I know, but…” She rose again to gaze out the window. “I’d probably blow if off if I weren’t so jittery already.” She turned and gave him a telling look. “I’m infuriated at myself for letting it upset me.”

“You have every right to be, but don’t be angry at yourself.” He stretched his arm toward her. “Come here.”

Her look softened as she walked across the room, then sank beside him on the sofa.

“Don’t forget, if it continues you can do something,” he said. “You can change your telephone number. Have it unlisted.” A new thought struck him. “You have caller ID, right? Did you notice—”

“It was blocked. Both times. I looked.”

“It’s frustrating.” He shifted his hand and rested it on hers. Her fingers felt as cold as his had been when he arrived. Benjamin pressed his warm palm against them. “I wish I had better news, but unless you’re threatened or continue to be harassed, like the officer said, you can’t do much about it. It’s one of those things.”

Joanne gave a faint nod. “I know that now.”

“People call wrong numbers all the time, and then they’re careless enough to try the same number again. Not bright, but not uncommon. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

“I hope so,” she said, but her voice didn’t sound convincing.

“Have faith, Joanne.”

On Sunday morning, Joanne slipped into Benjamin’s car.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Not much, but let’s not talk about it now,” she said.

He gave her one of those looks that let her know if she were a witness in court he wouldn’t let her get away with it, but today he would. He backed out of the driveway and headed toward the church, talking about the weather and any mundane thing that came to mind.

“How’s work?” he asked.

“It’s suffering. I’m the head of a think tank, and I doubt that I could find the solution to punch my way out of a paper sack. My co-workers are giving me strange looks.”

Benjamin didn’t respond as he nosed the car into the church parking lot. He supported her elbow as they ascended the church steps, and she gave him the best smile she could muster to reassure him that her mood had nothing to do with him. Joanne wasn’t even sure what bothered her. The woman hadn’t called since Friday night. She should be pleased, but she wasn’t.

Joanne had a difficult time thinking the woman’s calls had been a wrong number. She sensed that, like the voice, the calls meant something, but church wasn’t the place to dwell on it. Today, she needed strength and rejuvenation.

As they settled into their seats, the service began. Music rose and the congregation lifted their voices in praise. Benjamin smiled as if he was glad he came. He’d mentioned he hadn’t been to church since he’d moved back from Seattle.

Church had become a difficult place for Joanne after the funeral. Joanne knew that might sound strange to most Christians, but she and Greg had shared so much there. They’d been married and had had Mandy baptized at the same church. They had been at worship each Sunday. After he was gone, she felt abandoned by Greg and by God. Now, with Benjamin beside her, she felt complete again.

When the sermon began, the message startled Joanne. As if the pastor knew her need, he spoke about evil attacks on God’s children. “It’s like a war, a battle of good and evil. God cries to us in one ear while the sin beguiles us in the other. We need selective hearing when it comes to good and evil.

“But those who are victims of evil, remember this from Deuteronomy 23: ‘For the Lord your God moves about in your camp to protect you and to deliver your enemies to you.’ God’s children are never alone in the fight. Though all seems lost, keep your eyes pointed to heaven and your ears tuned to God’s Word. He might speak to you in a whisper, but His power is almighty. Let these words from Psalms be your prayer as you face the powers of evil. ‘God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.’ Amen.”

As she rose for the prayers and final hymn, Benjamin glanced at her as if wondering if she’d been listening. She would assure him that she had. Having heard the message, Joanne knew she had to let God be her strength and refuge. Thank you, Lord, she said in silent prayer.

The last hymn began, and Joanne was surprised to hear Benjamin’s rich baritone voice as he belted out the last verse of “Stand Up, Stand Up for Jesus.”

“I needed that,” Joanne said minutes later as she slipped from her pew into the aisle.

“I did, too,” he said, sending her a tender smile.

He walked beside her into the cold, and she shuddered as they turned into the wintery wind.

“Want to stop for coffee?” Benjamin asked, slipping his arm around her shoulders as if to ward off the cold.

“That would be nice.” She glanced at him, afraid to gaze too intently. His closeness affected her in a way she hadn’t expected. She felt a familiarity she hadn’t felt since Greg died.

Benjamin nosed the car onto the highway and soon a small coffee shop appeared on the right. He pulled into the parking lot. “Is this okay?”

“Anything’s fine,” she said as she opened the door.

They hurried inside, and a waitress waved them toward a table. They ordered mugs of coffee, which were brought to their table immediately. Benjamin sipped the hot brew and Joanne lifted the cup and let the aroma surround her.

“Thanks for coming to worship with me today. I felt less lonely than I have in a long, long time.” She paused, then decided to continue. “I like the feeling.”

“So do I,” he said.

“I was thinking that you’re a glutton for punishment, though. I’m not the greatest company lately.”

She took a sip of the coffee and looked at him over the edge of the cup.

“You’ve always been good company, Joanne. You and Greg.”

“Thanks,” she said.

He set the mug on the table and leaned forward. “I think we’re avoiding something, Joanne. What’s on your mind?”