The Turning by Davis Bunn Read Free Book Online Page A

lightning from an empty sky.”
    “Well, I for one think this is just the beginning,” Richard said.
    “I’m not sure I want to hear that, Daddy.”
    “I understand. It’s very frightening. You fear being called to do the impossible.”
    “Like going to my parents’ house and making peace,” Jenny said.
    Her mother asked, “Is that a smile I hear?”
    “A small one, Mommy. Very small.”
    “You are worried about losing control of your life.” Richard sighed. “That is something you learned from me, I fear. This need of mine to control everything. Including my daughter.”
    “Good luck with that, Daddy.”
    He was silent a moment, then asked, “Daughter, would you like us to come up and be with you?”
    She was glad she was sitting on the floor, as it saved her from falling down. “Say that again?”
    “Your mother and I could skip the dental convention. We could fly up and join you in New York.”
    “But only if you like,” her mother inserted. The pleading was there, but without the customary overlay of tension. “We could offer you support. Pray with you,” said her tender, retiring little mother.
    There was no reason in the world why those words should make her cry for the fourth time that morning. “I would like that so much. Please come.”
    John Jacobs should have been having the time of his life. Even his wife said so. There was no reason for the sense of heavy misery he carried with him as the two of them stepped into the hotel elevator.
    Monday morning, he had received a frantic call from headquarters. Their Midwest manager was down with an infection serious enough for the hospital to talk quarantine. They had a major new client wanting to talk numbers. John was to go to New York in his manager’s place, see this client. The client wanted somebody who could talk turkey. John knew the business as well as anyone. “Take Heather along—you’ll probably get some time in between to see the sights,” his boss told him.
    When they’d arrived in New York, he had learned the appointment had been postponed two days. Headquarters told him to sit tight, they would send someone to cover for him back home. But John had little interest in playing tourist. John felt every one of his fifty-six years, and had ever since the trip to meet Danny. The image of his young-old nephew limping from the prison gates blistered his nights. Heather had prayed with him, then held him through dark hours as he tossed and turned and sighed hard, pushing back against the helplessness that swelled his chest until his heart hurt. So much of his life felt like this, caught in the vise of unwanted events.
    The doors opened again, and there before him stood a lovely, dark-haired waif, molded from some Asian race that defined beauty. Her skin held a remarkable glow, like light shining through purest alabaster. Her long dark hair framed a face as perfect as any John had ever seen.
    John wondered if she even realized she was crying.
    Heather waited until the doors opened and the crowd spilled into the lobby to ask the young woman, “Are you all right?”
    The act of blinking caused another tear to escape. “I’m—I’m fine.”
    “You don’t look at all fine. Are you here by yourself?”
    “My parents are coming in this afternoon.”
    “Well, that is then and this is now. Have you had breakfast?”
    “I was just going for coffee.”
    “Would you like to sit with us?” Heather did not wait for the woman to respond. Instead, she did the same kind of thing that had welcomed so many newcomers into their church. She acted as though they had been friends for eternity. “This is my husband, John. Why don’t you and I sit down over here while he goes and buys us coffee. How do you take yours?”
    “A small latte.”
    “Coming right up,” John told them, listening to his wife pour a verbal ointment on the young woman’s sorrow. He did not need to hear the words to know that Heather was doing what she did best. Making things