her performance, or really wanted to get away from him. He hoped it wasn’t the latter, because he absolutely hoped to see her again, to get to know her a little better.
It had been so long since he’d pursued such a course that he wasn’t quite sure how to go about it, but he figured he could probably muddle his way through, given the opportunity. He didn’t really expect much to come of it. They might not have anything in common, might not like each other at all if they got better acquainted, but it was time to move forward again in his life. He might as well start with the pretty little strawberry blonde who’d sparked his interest for the first time in a very long while.
He turned, finally, and moved toward his own building, thinking how pleased his parents would be when he told them that he’d seen her again. He’d been too busy to stop by their place lately, but he was going to drop in soon to show them the letter and get their take on it. On the other hand, they might read too much into what had actually been a very brief meeting. Maybe he should just wait and see what happened before he mentioned encountering Piper Wynne on the street.
He couldn’t help thinking, though, that it was some coincidence that in a city of this size they should wind up working right down the street from each other—not that he actually believed in coincidences. To his mind, it was no accident that he’d run into her again, just as it was no accident that he’d come across that letter that day. Accidents and coincidence were for those who didn’t know the Lord or trust in His ways.
Mitch wholeheartedly believed that God controlled the events of a life yielded to Him, so if he were meant to get to know Piper Wynne better, the opportunity to do so would come when the time was right. Likewise, if he were meant to find the owner of that letter, God would show him how to do it and why. Meanwhile, he had clients waiting.
He practically skipped into the building, ready to face the day.
Vernon Sayer laid aside the single, creased sheet of notepaper and reached for his pipe, removing it from his mouth in a prelude to speech. First, however, he cleared his throat. The poignancy of the letter had affected him as much as it had his wife.
“They’ve obviously lost someone dear to them, perhaps a son or even a father.”
“It’s so sad,” Marian added, shaking her head to emphasize the words.
“And you may be right that there is a higher purpose here,” Vernon went on, shifting his large, blocky body, “but I don’t think you can really blame yourself for not acting sooner, Mitch. What could you have done? Stood up in the middle of the flight and announced you’d found a letter suggesting that someone was running away from grief?” He shook his head sagely. “No, this has to play out another way or not at all.”
Mitch sat forward on the comfortable overstuffed couch that matched his father’s easy chair and clasped his hands, forearms braced upon his knees. He was well aware of the physical traits that he shared with his father. To Mitch, looking at Vernon was like looking at his own future face. He found comfort in the character that he saw there, the laugh lines that fanned out from the corners of his intelligent eyes and carved deep grooves of his dimples. Even the leathery, beard-coarsened cheeks spoke of masculine strength, a natural counterpart to his mother’s feminine softness, both physically and emotionally. With her comfortable roundness, the thick, gray coil of her hair and naturally enthusiastic concern, Marian was the epitome of everyone’s favorite teacher.
“What would you suggest?” he asked of them both. “Where is there to go from here?”
“We will certainly pray about it,” Marian put in, but Vernon always took the more pragmatic approach.
“Why don’t I run this by Craig Adler? He’s just been promoted to some sort of vice presidency at the airline. He might have some ideas.”
Mitch straightened in surprise. “Is Mr. Adler still working? I thought he retired some time ago.”
Vernon chuckled and stuck his pipe into the corner of his mouth, speaking around it. “They’ll have to blast old Craig out of his chair and take him straight from there to the morgue.” Narrowing his eyes, he added, “Craig doesn’t have any reason to want to stay home and take it easy.”
Mitch ducked his head smiling at the not-so-subtle hint. Craig Adler’s wife had divorced him nearly twenty years ago, and the experience had so soured him on marriage that he’d remained single. Apparently he’d devoted his life to work ever since. The implication, of course, was that Mitch, too, was in danger of making that same mistake. Obviously he was right to keep mum about meeting Piper again, Mitch deduced. No telling what they’d make of that.
Mitch got his sudden smile under control, looked his dad in the eye and said, “Can’t hurt to run it by him, and meanwhile I’ll follow Mom’s advice.” Since she was sitting right next to him, he patted her on the knee.
“Your father didn’t mean anything by that last remark,” she assured him.
“Yes, I did,” Vernon instantly refuted. “Mitch works too much. If he’s really interested in finding someone to spend his life with, then he’s going to have to cut back on his hours. You said it yourself.”
“I also said we should keep our opinions to ourselves,” she scolded benignly, shaking a finger at him.
He gave her a droll look over the bowl of his pipe. ‘You’ve been married to me long enough to know better than that.”
She rolled her eyes, saw that Mitch was trying not to laugh and threw up her hands. “So I have, you meddling old mother hen.”
Vernon clamped the pipe stem between his teeth, looked at his son and quipped, “Ah, the joys of married life.”
Mitch laughed at them both. His father grinned unrepentantly while Marian folded her arms in a mock huff. “If it makes you feel any better,” he heard himself saying, “I saw her again.” So much for keeping quiet.
“Her?” Vernon echoed, forehead beetling.
Marian clasped her hands together. “The girl on the plane! The one with the pretty name.”
“Piper Wynne,” Mitch confirmed. “Turns out she works just down the street from me, but that’s all I know about her. And that’s all I have to say on the subject.”
“For now,” Vernon qualified with a flourish of his pipe. “Well, well,” he mused, inserting the stem between his lips again.
Well, well, indeed, Mitch thought, looking at his mother’s shining eyes. He couldn’t help wondering how long they had kept silent, waiting for him to be ready to love again. It was to be expected from his mother, but his father had shown great restraint and respect. Thinking of his garrulous, take-charge father biting his tongue for only God knew how long stunned Mitch.
He cleared his throat and softly asked, “Have I told you two lately how much I love you?”
Vernon removed the pipe from his mouth, smiled and looked down, brushing at imaginary lint on his thigh. Marian’s hand closed tenderly over Mitch’s forearm.
“It’s always good to hear,” she said softly.
Mitch sat back and lightened the moment by asking, “What’s for dinner?”
His mother hopped up and headed to the kitchen, answering him over her shoulder, “Your favorite,
