Stay Tuned

Chapter 30

Candace buckled Jaden and Addie into their car seats. Both rubbed their eyes furiously, heads drooping.
    
“They’re exhausted,” I said, handing over the last of the picnic gear.
    
“Me, too,” Candace agreed and stowed the cooler between the seats. She clicked a button on her key fob. The air conditioning kicked on. Then, with a soft whir and snap, the mini-van door slid shut behind us.
    
“About your mom,” she began.
    
“Listen, I’ll be okay. She hurt my feelings. Nothing new,” I shrugged.
    
“Try and forgive her,” Candace reminded me. “What does Chris have to say about it?”
    
“Not much,” I said ruefully. “Probably because he hasn’t been home. I see Rick Roberts more than my own husband, and that’s pretty sad.”
    
“Has Rick Roberts been friendly?” She put her hand on the door and cocked her head.
    
“Of course,” I said. “But I’ve only worked with him a few days.”
    
“I mean friendly.” She scrutinized my face. “From what I hear, he’s hard to resist when he turns on the charm.”
    
The skin on my face grew hot. I couldn’t argue with his charm. People fell in love with Rick. It was an unspoken truth, like the sun would rise in the morning, kids loved ice cream, and new parents needed sleep.
    
I caught my breath. “He’s fine.”
    
Candace squeezed my fingers. “I don’t want anyone trying to take advantage of you.” She opened the door to the van and climbed inside. Candace rolled down the window, and stuck one elbow out, resting her chin on her hand.
    
The touch under the desk from Rick was nothing but a friendly gesture. Wasn’t it?
    
Okay, he did make my skin tingle when he walked by and looked into my eyes. And the way the lights in the studio made him almost, well, that was a different story. But it meant nothing. Nothing at all.
    
Candace waved her fingers in front of my face. “Okay?”
    
I jumped. “Okay, fine,” I answered.
    
Candace softened. “Good.” She straightened her back against the seat and adjusted the rearview mirror.
    
When she turned back to look at me, tears had filled her eyes. “Here I am trying to lecture you and you just found my child. I don’t know what I would have done—”
   
“We found her. That’s all that matters.”
    
Candace swallowed hard and nodded. “Thanks for everything. I mean it.”
    
“Anytime.” I hugged her through the window then stepped back and waved.
    
Candace wiped her eyes, slipped on her sunglasses, and eased the mini-van away from the curb. I watched as they rolled down the block, homeward bound.
    
The dark green grass bent and cushioned my steps the few steps to my car. The park was busier now, almost mid-afternoon, with families dotting the picnic benches, a few daddies throwing footballs, mothers holding babies. The crack of a ball and wooden bat connecting echoed from the baseball diamond.
    
One hand on the car door, I fumbled for my keys.
    
A whistle pierced the air. “Hey!”
   
When I whirled around, Candace was driving back toward me. She parked, extended a hand out the window, holding a tiny box.
    
“Here!” Candace grinned. “In all the excitement, I forgot to give you this.”
    
I started to ask why, only to have her put a finger to her lips.
    
“A reminder that I believe in you,” Candace said, “and that you need to believe in yourself.” She blew me a kiss. She drove away as I cradled the narrow gold box in my hand. Its opalescent white bow glimmered in the early afternoon light.

In any other circumstance, I’d have unwrapped the present eagerly, held it out, and admired it. The ribbon pulled apart easily, the paper unfolded with barely a rustle. Inside the box lay a delicate chain on a white cushion.
    
A round locket with an intricate design slid into my palm. As I brought it closer, I realized the engraving spelled out a word. I hugged my fingers around the locket.
     
Believe.