Christie walked into the bedroom and opened the closet. She shuffled through the hangers, looking for an outfit to wear. She chose a pair of gray slacks and a blue knit pullover, then she showered and dressed. A short time later she was in her office. There was a message from Dani saying that she expected to be in San Francisco by three o’clock.
Christie tapped her pencil on the desk blotter. It was impossible to concentrate. She felt as though she was on a caffeine high. She peeked into the other office and told Tom that she was going to Starbucks for a decaf latte and a bagel.
Sitting at a small sidewalk table, she watched pedestrians hurrying to lunch or appointments. A woman wearing a neatly tailored suit and carrying a leather briefcase rushed past, her focus obviously unbroken, as she headed to her destination. She poked the button at the pedestrian crosswalk and waited for the walk icon to flash on. Christie could almost sense her impatience. She felt the same way; three o’clock couldn’t come soon enough. Concentrating on other cases was difficult when Dani was foremost in her mind. Would the woman bring her a major clue to her identity, or just a bunch of innocuous childhood scribbles?
She felt an urge to talk to Cash again. Maybe his voice would ease her jangled nerves. Her fingers poked the familiar numbers on the keypad, and she listened to the phone ring. Disappointment was sharp when she heard Paige’s voice. Cash was out of the office taking a deposition. She decided not to leave a message; what could she say, that she needed some verbal hand-holding? She knew that he would reassure her if he could.
Her mind latched onto the realization that Cash’s entry into her life had changed her outlook. She was ready to share her insecurities and risk allowing him to enter her inner sanctum. This indicated a huge step forward. Her heart was now open to the possibility of love—his love. To be honest with herself, she admitted that she had already crossed over; her feelings for him were deep. That placed her in a vulnerable position, but she was ready to embrace that stage in their relationship.
She tossed her empty coffee cup and napkin into a trash can and then strolled down the sidewalk. She peered into shop windows, hoping to edge out thoughts of the Farley case. The stores were high-end, and although she admired the leather purses and shoes in one store window, she realized that she could not afford even a key case in the designer collection. Why would anyone pay so much? she wondered. She suspected that a trendy hobo-style purse in the center of the display cost almost as much as a down payment on a car. She shook her head and walked on.
In a pocket park, a bunch of pigeons scrabbled for handouts. She wished that she had kept a few crumbs from her bagel to feed them. It always amazed her that in the middle of high-rises, pigeons or starlings found their way to even the smallest plot of grass. An elderly man on a concrete bench dug into his pocket and then sprinkled sunflower seeds on the ground. The pigeons pushed and shoved their way to the banquet. One bird fanned its wings and screeched at the greedy crowd that had elbowed him out of line for the snack bar. Just like some humans, Christie thought.
She looked at her watch. Dani would arrive in a little more than an hour. She returned to her office and transcribed notes from a case she was working on for an auction house. The minute hand on the wall clock clicked forward as her fingers flew across the computer keyboard. When she finished she hit the Print button.
She thought about the consequences involved in the Farley case, both human and financial. There might not be any winners in the resolution, and that clawed at her gut. If Dani was Danielle, Mrs. Farley would be ecstatic, but Dani’s memories of her father would be compromised.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Christie filled a small watering can and walked to the window. On the sill a trio of orchid plants was in bloom; their dainty scarlet blossoms climbed long, spiky stems. She generously watered each plant, then went to the small palm that was on the stool beside the bookcase and doused it with water. Then she remembered that the plants had been watered yesterday; she had probably drowned them.
At a quarter to three Dani walked into the office. Christie stood and stepped around the desk, hand extended. Dani gripped her hand firmly. “You made good time,” Christie said.
“There wasn’t much traffic.” Dani pulled a chair close to the desk and sat. Christie stared at the manila envelope on Dani’s lap. Let’s get on with it, she thought. A great deal depended on the contents of that envelope. Finally, Dani put the packet on the desk.
Christie opened the envelope and gave it a shake. Half a dozen cards scattered across the desk blotter. Made of brightly colored construction paper, they were decorated with childish drawings scribbled in crayon, embellished with lace doilies, yarn, and glitter. The assortment fanned out like a kaleidoscope.
Heart pounding, Christie picked up a Father’s Day card. The sun and a rainbow had been crayoned across the front. She opened the card and read the greeting, “Dear Daddy, Happy Father’s Day. Love, Dani.” The words were in unsteady printing, with a backward e. Another card had a picture of a Christmas tree decorated in red and green glitter.
Christie laid out each card, open to the inside writing, then reached into the second drawer in her desk and removed the thirty-year-old schoolwork that Gladys Farley had given her. She placed them above the greeting cards and positioned her magnifying apparatus over them. The backward e’s, the slant of the crossed t’s, the shape of the b’s, the unsteady arched m’s and n’s, the fancy curve of the f’s and k’s, and the i’s dotted with checks that looked like tiny hearts, so familiar to her now, were nearly identical on the greeting cards. After all the hours she had spent scrupulously studying each letter, and unsuccessfully looking for a clue in Dani’s present-day writing, the answer was revealed in a bunch of crudely constructed cards.
It was so quiet in the room she could hear Dani’s breathing. Outside a car alarm went off, breaking the silence.
“They don’t match, do they?” Dani said.
“We have a Hallmark moment,” Christie said, softly. “They match.”
“They match,” Dani repeated in a whisper. Two simple words that would forever change lives.
A few hours later Christie was home, eagerly awaiting Cash. She was still riding high on the euphoria of not only solving the Farley case, but having provided a storybook ending. It wasn’t every day lost loved ones were reunited. Mrs. Farley had invited Christie to have dinner with her, Drew, and Dani at the Palace Hotel. She had demurred, telling Mrs. Farley she’d take a rain check; the reunion should be private.
The doorbell rang and she hurried to answer it. Cash loomed large in the doorway and without hesitation Christie stepped into his arms and pressed her face against his chest.
“What’s that all about! If I’d known that a sack of takeout would guarantee a reception like this, I’d be over with a brown bag every night.” He put his arms around her and held her tightly.
He touched her cheek with his fingertips. “Are those tears?” She nodded. “What’s wrong?” Cash held her at arm’s length, his brows furrowed in concern.
“Actually, everything’s wonderful,” she said. “I just need you to hold me a little longer.”
He pulled her close again, and for a few minutes neither spoke. There was comfort in his embrace. Familiarity, too, and strength. He smoothed her hair back from her forehead and gently kissed her beneath each eye. Her eyelids fluttered like butterfly wings as his mouth blotted each tear dry. His touch was warm and soothing, melting her bones.