“You’re doing the best you can. Justin’s lucky to have you.”

  “I wonder what he’ll think of me when he gets older.”

  A lump rose in Roberta’s throat. She could hear the pain and fear in Cindy’s voice. “He’ll be grateful that you’re his mom and you did everything you could for him.”

  “Maybe,” Cindy whispered. “I’ll think about the food bank, okay? But you’re coming with me.”

  “Just tell me when.” She grabbed Cindy’s arm. “Come on. We really have to hustle now.”

  They made it to the stop just as the bus pulled up to the curb. Cindy dropped her cigarette butt onto the sidewalk and crushed it with her foot. Roberta bit her tongue.

  “About your dream,” Cindy said when they’d found a seat. “I know someone. She’s into dream analysis and stuff. Do you want her phone number?”

  Not really. Roberta would put dream analysts in the same file as psychics and palm readers, and the dream would stop now. But Cindy was trying to help, and after the conversation they’d just had… “Sure.”

  “When we get to work, I’ll write it down for you.”

  Roberta nodded, but doubted she’d need it.

  *****

  Tired after a more trying shift than usual, Roberta couldn’t wait to get home and put her feet up for half an hour. She hurried to the employee lounge and slipped her purse from her locker. Cindy had left her cash register only a few minutes ago, but she wasn’t in here. Weird. Hopefully she hadn’t rushed away with more baby food in her purse.

  Roberta’s vision narrowed. She was in the storeroom. Bill was backed against a stack of boxes, moaning. Sandy, another cashier, was on her knees in front of him. Ugh! Roberta didn’t want this image in her mind, and forced herself back to her surroundings.

  She stood there a moment, focusing on the employee lounge. Just like the other day, when she’d suddenly been in Bill’s office, what she’d seen had seemed so real. Bill and Sandy often took inventory together. Were they doing more than counting stock? She didn’t want to know.

  Wanting to leave the store and the image she’d seen behind, Roberta strode down the fruits and vegetables aisle and headed for the exit.

  “Bobbie!”

  Not again. She turned around. Dino, one of the shelf stockers, beckoned to her. “Bill wants to see us.”

  “Now? I’m on my way out.”

  “Yeah, now.” Dino jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “He’s in his office. John came and told me, and he told me to catch you before you left.”

  With a sigh, Roberta fell into step with him. “Do you know what he wants?”

  “Nope. But I know he called Cindy in, too.” Dino lowered his voice. “You haven’t heard anything about layoffs, have you?”

  “No,” Roberta said absently. Cindy, too? Shit. Was it about the baby food?

  A minute later, she caught Cindy’s eye and stopped next to her in front of Bill’s desk. Bill’s shoulders were stiff. His nostrils flared. “Shut the door,” he barked at Dino, who was closest to it. Dino pushed it shut and stood fidgeting. “I won’t beat around the bush,” Bill began. “Items have been disappearing over the past few weeks. You three are the common denominator. Which one of you has sticky fingers?”

  “What was stolen?” Dino asked.

  Bill shook his head. “One of you already knows what was stolen. Is it you, Dino?”

  “No.”

  “Well, it’s one of you. Who is it?”

  Nobody spoke. Roberta didn’t dare look at Cindy.

  “Don’t be shy.” Bill suddenly pushed back his chair, making everyone jump. He rounded his desk and met Dino’s eyes. He moved to Roberta and glared. Guilt stirred within her. She struggled to control her breathing. Bill stepped to Cindy. His jaw tightened. Cindy grabbed Roberta’s hand.

  “One of you stole from this store,” Bill said evenly. “I want to know who it is.” He moved to Roberta again, then shifted his attention to Dino. “Nobody wants to confess? I guess I’ll have to fire all three of you, then.”

  Cindy drew breath. Roberta gave her hand a warning squeeze. “I did it!” she blurted.

  Bill stared at her. She sensed Cindy doing the same. “You?” Bill said incredulously. “You stole the items?”

  “Yes.”

  He folded his arms. “What did you steal?”

  “Baby food.”

  “Baby food,” Bill drawled. Roberta could hear his wheels turning. “What do you need with baby food?”

  “I gave everything to the church,” Roberta said, knowing it sounded ridiculous. She wasn’t surprised when Bill gaped.

  “You stole to give to your church? Come on, Bobbie, you can do better than that. You didn’t steal the baby food. We both know you’re covering for someone.”

  Roberta squeezed Cindy’s hand again. “No, I’m not. I took the food.”

  Bill studied her. His brows drew together. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked quietly.

  “Do what? You asked, I answered,” Roberta said, sounding more confident than she felt.

  “If that’s the way you want it.” He stepped back and pointed at Dino and Cindy. “You two. Out!”

  Not needing any further encouragement, Dino yanked the door open and fled. Cindy hesitated. “Bobbie…”

  “Go,” Roberta snapped. “Get out of here.”

  Her chin trembling, Cindy marched from Bill’s office. Bill shut the door. He was silent for a moment, then said, “Are you sure you want to throw away eight years? For what, a friend who has a kid she can’t afford? We both know Cindy took the baby food.”

  Roberta clasped her hands behind her back. “I took the baby food.”

  “Jesus, Bobbie,” Bill exploded. “You’re not leaving me a choice. You’re either a liar or a thief.”

  “We’re all liars.”

  “Not when it comes to matters that count. You’re throwing your job away.” He gave her a pleading look. “Just tell me the truth.”

  Roberta swallowed. “I am.”

  Bill’s face fell. “You’ve left me with no choice. You’re fired.”

  She should feel ashamed, afraid, mortified. But she felt nothing. What was wrong with her?

  “The worst part about this is that it’s all for nothing. I’m still firing Cindy.”

  “No, you’re not,” Roberta said without thinking.

  Bill’s eyes bulged. “Excuse me?”

  “You fire Cindy and your wife will get a phone call about how you and Sandy love to do inventory together every Tuesday afternoon, if you know what I mean.”

  Bill lunged toward her and drew back his hand.

  Roberta turned away and waited for the smack. A second passed, then two, then three. She released her pent breath when Bill lowered his hand. He returned to his desk and pulled open a drawer. “Here,” he said, stuffing money into an envelope. “Your severance pay, and I’ll send you a reference letter.” He shoved the envelope into her hand. “If I ever see you around here, you’ll be sorry, do you understand?”

  Roberta stared at the envelope in her hand. This was exactly what she’d seen in her mind, and her vision of Bill and Sandy had been true, too. What was going on? Why was she suddenly seeing the future and people’s secrets?

  “Get out of my office,” Bill shouted.

  Roberta slipped the envelope into her purse. “It was nice working with you,” she murmured.

  “Bitch,” she heard him mutter as she passed him.

  Cindy was waiting for her outside the store. “What happened?” she breathed.

  Roberta shrugged. “I’m unemployed.”

  “Shit.” Cindy marched toward the entrance. “I’m going back in. I’ll tell him it was me.”

  “No.” Roberta grabbed Cindy’s arm. “Even if you do, he won’t take me back. I’ve burned my bridges.”

  Cindy’s gaze sharpened. “Why? What did you say?”

  “I lied, and he knows it.”

  “What will you do for money?”

  “I’ll get another job. Plus, I got severance.” Roberta slid the envelope from her purse and thumbed through the bills.

  Cindy gasped. “Holy shit, how much is in there? What did you have to do for it, blow him?”

  “I didn’t have to do anything.” Roberta elbowed Cindy in the side. “As for blowing him, Sandy’s got that covered.”

  “Sandy? Are you serious?” Cindy squealed. “Oh my god. How did you find out?”

  She must have overheard them talking and not realized what they’d meant until now. She wasn’t having visions, for Pete’s sake. “Someone told me, and now I’ve told you. Keep it to yourself. Bill’s already out to get you.” Roberta pressed five twenty-dollar bills into Cindy’s hand. “Here.”

  Cindy vigorously shook her head. “I can’t take this. You just lost your job for me.”

  “Take it. Because you can’t steal anymore, right? You’ll definitely lose your job. He knows it’s you. He’ll be watching you like a hawk.”

  “I know, I know.” Cindy hesitated, then shoved the bills into her jeans pocket. “Thanks for covering for me. I’m sorry about your job.”

  “Don’t be. I was sick of it, anyway.” Roberta forced a smile. “Something will turn up. The Lord has something in store for me.”

  Cindy looked up at the sky. “I wish I had your confidence in the Lord.”

  Roberta had no choice but to trust Him and pray that her job hunt would go well. She’d just thrown away her job to protect a friend who’d stolen. It felt right to her, but He might feel differently.

  *****

  She was fighting, fighting to keep her head above the choppy waters, fighting to breathe, her arms and legs feeling heavier with every passing second. “Help!”

  “Roberta!”

  She found the strength to raise her arm and wave. “Help!” Where was he? She couldn’t see him.

  “Roberta!”

  “Help me!” The water pulled her under again. She tried to resurface, but she was tired, so tired. It was time to leave. She had to leave. She opened her mouth, swallowed the water. Her lungs filled. Her head pounded.

  No, she wasn’t dying here, today, and it was only a dream. She was dreaming! She mustered her energy and forced her head above water.

  “Roberta!”

  “Patrick!” She waved again and splashed around. “Patrick! I’m over here.”

  A rowboat emerged from the mist, heading her way. The man in it leaned over the side of the boat. “Roberta.”

  Thank God. “Patrick.”

  Suddenly she was sucked beneath the water. “Patrick! Patrick!” she screamed.

  “Bobbie!”

  Her eyes flew open. Ben. She reached for him, held him tight.

  “You’re trembling.”

  “I had a bad dream,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

  He stroked her back. “Should I be concerned? You were calling out another man’s name.”

  Her blood ran cold. “What?”

  “Who’s Patrick?”

  “No one.” She drew back. In the early morning light, she could see his concern and curiosity. “It was a dream.”

  He propped himself up on one elbow. “What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been having trouble sleeping for a while. You lost your job because you lied to Bill.” He avoided her eyes. “Is it me?”

  “What?”

  “Do you regret saying yes?”

  “No! I’ve been having a recurring dream.” She hadn’t intended to tell practical, grounded Ben, but she didn’t want him to think that she was having second thoughts. “I’m drowning. Someone is trying to save me. Someone named Patrick.” She wouldn’t mention that Patrick had been a shadowy, nameless figure until now.

  Ben took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “How long have you been having the dream?”

  She took a moment to think. “A little over a month.”

  “How many times have you had it?”

  “I don’t know. Six, seven times, maybe.”

  “You’ve been tossing and turning more nights than that.”

  “Cindy has a friend who’s a dream analyst. She gave me her number.”

  Ben scowled. “Who cares what Cindy thinks you should do? It’s her fault you don’t have a job. And why did you tell her, and not me?” He shook his head. “Dream analysis is bunk. Don’t bother with it. You’re under a lot of stress, that’s all. If you want to talk to someone about it, talk to Pastor Williams.”

  She respected Pastor Williams, but she doubted he’d be able to help. He’d dismiss her dream and tell her to pray.

  Ben lay back. Roberta snuggled into him, hoping he’d drop it. “You said you’ll start putting in applications today,” he said.

  She nodded, knowing he’d feel her response.

  “You don’t have to, you know. I—”

  Shit, she knew where this was going. “Yes, I do. I need to work.” Though she’d wondered if she should go back to school, rather than find another cashier’s job. She’d always felt that she should be doing more with her life—that God wanted her to do more with her life. Now would be the logical time to make a change, but how would Ben react if she told him she wanted to get a degree? Before breathing a word to him, she had to figure out what she wanted to do.

  “If you want to work, find another job,” Ben snapped. “But don’t forget we have a wedding to plan.”

  “I know. Just give me a few months to get myself settled again.” Thank goodness he couldn’t see her face. Did You hear that? You have a few months. Please, help me figure out what I’m supposed to do with my life. Otherwise she’d have the prince, the house, and the white picket fence, and always wonder if she was supposed to be doing more.

  *****

  Roberta walked down the church’s aisle and chose a pew three rows from the altar. When she sat down, the creak sounded louder than usual. The silence of the empty sanctuary unnerved her. She rarely came into the nave on Tuesday mornings, when she cooked meals for the elderly in the church’s basement kitchen. Bill had known not to schedule any shifts for her during that time. It didn’t matter now.

  She set her purse and umbrella next to her, then lowered her head and closed her eyes. Did I do the right thing, lying to Bill and letting Cindy get away with stealing? The alternative would have been worse: Cindy unemployed with Justin to care for. What had happened to the comforting world of black and white? It had been easier when she’d blindly accepted the absolutes she’d learned in Sunday school. It had also been easier when she hadn’t questioned herself. Had she lied to Bill so he’d fire her? Throwing away an eight-year job should have distressed her, but she’d waltzed out of his office without a care in the world.

  I’ve put in a few applications, and I’ll fill more out later. But is that what I’m supposed to be doing? Now would be the perfect time to start something fresh. She sat quietly and cleared her mind, but inspiration didn’t strike. No voice whispered to her. She wouldn’t find the answer here. She’d find it out there, living her life—but how long would it take? What was she meant to do with her life?

  Was she being arrogant? She should be sensible, find another job and marry Ben, hopefully in that order. She wouldn’t be a stay-at-home mom. There was nothing wrong with that road, but it wasn’t the one she was meant to travel. Was it right to marry Ben when she knew there’d be a heated argument in their future? She’d told him she’d want to keep working and he hadn’t protested, but when the time actually came… I love him. I want to marry him. I don’t want to resent him. If I start something new now, he’ll be used to it by the time we have our first child. But what am I supposed to do? I’m putting in applications but it feels wrong. What should I be doing?

  Silence.

  She snatched up her purse and umbrella and fled from the church. Raindrops spotted her blouse. She opened her umbrella and stood on the church steps, pondering whether to go back in. She hadn’t said good-bye. Her prayers had been selfish. Not one word for anyone else’s welfare but hers.

  Across the street, a beggar in a ratty blue blazer sat on the sidewalk, appearing oblivious to the rain. He must be soaked. Not wanting to enter the quiet sanctuary again, Roberta crossed the road. She stopped near the beggar and fished inside her purse for change. She dropped two dollars in quarters into the beggar’s dirty, crumpled baseball cap and smiled wanly at him.

  Bleary eyes met hers. “Thank you, Roberta.”

  Her heart pounded. “How do you know my name?” He couldn’t have overheard people going to the church using it. Everyone called her Bobbie, a nickname that was starting to grate. It had been okay when she was a kid, but she was pushing thirty now.

  “Patrick’s real, you know. He’s not a figment of your imagination. He’s real. You have to find him.”

  Shock tightened her throat. Her lips moved, but nothing came out. When had the beggar’s eyes cleared?

  “Find Patrick. Find the Deiform Fellowship.” He lowered his head.

  She found her voice. “What’s the Deiform Fellowship? Where’s Patrick?” When the beggar didn’t respond, she tried again. “Tell me where Patrick is. Please.” Her hands clenched. She wanted to shake him. “I’ll give you more money.”

  She swung her purse in front of her, then rested the umbrella on her shoulder while she pulled out her wallet and plucked out a twenty-dollar bill. She held it out to him. “Here.”

  She stared at the empty sidewalk. Her brain balked at what her eyes were telling it. He was gone. She looked to her left, then to her right. She turned in a circle, searching for him, until she was back staring at the empty sidewalk. Then she saw them, the eight quarters scattered near her feet, as if someone had just dropped them there. No, she’d put them into his cap. She hadn’t imagined him. He’d been right there. He must have run off when she’d focused on her purse. But she hadn’t been distracted that long, and why would he leave money behind?

  She stepped away from the quarters, not wanting to believe they were there. She hadn’t imagined him. He’d spoken to her! She hadn’t heard him inside her head. He—

 

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