shouldn’t be sitting here,” Jenny agreed. “There’s something he wants me to
do
.”
Richard Linn opened his mouth, but then shut it and remained silent.
Ruth said, “Please tell us what you were thinking, I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
“Richard. I, well …” He shot his daughter a worried look.
“Tell us, Daddy.”
“I’ve spent too many hours doing just that. Telling, rather than listening.”
Jenny smiled for the first time that day. Her mother sniffed softly as Jenny took hold of her father’s hand. “Go ahead.”
“It seems to me that unless you know where God wants you to go and what he wants you to say, you’re just running on a wheel of your own making.”
“Like Fred,” Jenny said.
“I’m sorry, who?”
“My hamster when I was little.”
Alisha harrumphed a laugh. “Girl, you haven’t stopped being little yet.”
Jenny seemed to like that. “Little-er, then.”
Richard said, “My daughter would watch that little beast for hours.”
“I liked to watch him run. His legs moved so fast they were a blur.”
“And he still didn’t go anywhere,” Ruth said. She pointed to the Book in her lap. “The disciples were told to go to Jerusalem and wait. They gathered and they prayed. How hard it must have been for them to sit there, taking no action, while outside the world wanted them all dead.”
Aaron startled them by speaking for the first time that day. “There should be twelve of you.”
Alisha looked at him. “I been thinking the exact same thing.”
“It’s bothered me ever since we watched the Times Square mob,” Aaron went on. “Twelve were called. But only you five showed up. Out there are seven more that God chose, but who didn’t act.”
“And now we’re not being allowed to do just that,” John groused. “Act.”
Heather shook her head. “Climb down off your wheel, John. Ruth is right.”
“I know she is. But it doesn’t make it easy.”
“Welcome to the upper room, friends.” Ruth reached out both hands. “Now let’s join in prayer and ask God to show us the way.”
LOS ANGELES
When the jet landed at John Wayne airport in Burbank, two limos were pulled up on the tarmac. As the jet rolled over and the engines whined down, the drivers emerged and straightened their jackets. The pilot lowered the stairs and saluted his departing passengers. Trent followed Edlyn Mundrose down the steps and watched as she slipped into the first limo. The driver collected her bags from the pilot, climbed in behind the wheel, and took off, leaving Gayle to travel with him. Edlyn never once looked their way.
The limo was an anonymous black Lincoln. Nice enough, but after a Bentley to the airport and a private Gulfstream ride across the continent, he would have at least expected to be met by a Caddy.
Gayle fielded three phone calls as they threaded their way along the LA concrete spaghetti. She spoke quietly with her hand cradling the receiver, and Trent felt no need to listen in. His own phone rang as they exited the I-405. The detective service he had hired confirmed that his requested files would be ready in an hour. As he closed his phone, Gayle said, “I suggest we shift our reservations to the Bel Air, since that’s where Mr. Denning said we should meet. It will make a statement.”
“Only if Stone Denning bothers to check.”
“His people will make it their business to know.”
Trent nodded as if it all made sense. Welcome to Hollywood.
He thought of other young men and women who had come before him, granted an instant in the corporate spotlight. The limos, the thousand-dollar hotel rooms, the access to the throne room. He wondered at the difference between those who had made it and those who were not even memories. He knew that most people granted this chance failed. He hoped he had what it took. He knew some of them mistakenly assumed that a glimpse of the high life meant they could claim it as their own. They padded their expense
do
.”
Richard Linn opened his mouth, but then shut it and remained silent.
Ruth said, “Please tell us what you were thinking, I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
“Richard. I, well …” He shot his daughter a worried look.
“Tell us, Daddy.”
“I’ve spent too many hours doing just that. Telling, rather than listening.”
Jenny smiled for the first time that day. Her mother sniffed softly as Jenny took hold of her father’s hand. “Go ahead.”
“It seems to me that unless you know where God wants you to go and what he wants you to say, you’re just running on a wheel of your own making.”
“Like Fred,” Jenny said.
“I’m sorry, who?”
“My hamster when I was little.”
Alisha harrumphed a laugh. “Girl, you haven’t stopped being little yet.”
Jenny seemed to like that. “Little-er, then.”
Richard said, “My daughter would watch that little beast for hours.”
“I liked to watch him run. His legs moved so fast they were a blur.”
“And he still didn’t go anywhere,” Ruth said. She pointed to the Book in her lap. “The disciples were told to go to Jerusalem and wait. They gathered and they prayed. How hard it must have been for them to sit there, taking no action, while outside the world wanted them all dead.”
Aaron startled them by speaking for the first time that day. “There should be twelve of you.”
Alisha looked at him. “I been thinking the exact same thing.”
“It’s bothered me ever since we watched the Times Square mob,” Aaron went on. “Twelve were called. But only you five showed up. Out there are seven more that God chose, but who didn’t act.”
“And now we’re not being allowed to do just that,” John groused. “Act.”
Heather shook her head. “Climb down off your wheel, John. Ruth is right.”
“I know she is. But it doesn’t make it easy.”
“Welcome to the upper room, friends.” Ruth reached out both hands. “Now let’s join in prayer and ask God to show us the way.”
LOS ANGELES
When the jet landed at John Wayne airport in Burbank, two limos were pulled up on the tarmac. As the jet rolled over and the engines whined down, the drivers emerged and straightened their jackets. The pilot lowered the stairs and saluted his departing passengers. Trent followed Edlyn Mundrose down the steps and watched as she slipped into the first limo. The driver collected her bags from the pilot, climbed in behind the wheel, and took off, leaving Gayle to travel with him. Edlyn never once looked their way.
The limo was an anonymous black Lincoln. Nice enough, but after a Bentley to the airport and a private Gulfstream ride across the continent, he would have at least expected to be met by a Caddy.
Gayle fielded three phone calls as they threaded their way along the LA concrete spaghetti. She spoke quietly with her hand cradling the receiver, and Trent felt no need to listen in. His own phone rang as they exited the I-405. The detective service he had hired confirmed that his requested files would be ready in an hour. As he closed his phone, Gayle said, “I suggest we shift our reservations to the Bel Air, since that’s where Mr. Denning said we should meet. It will make a statement.”
“Only if Stone Denning bothers to check.”
“His people will make it their business to know.”
Trent nodded as if it all made sense. Welcome to Hollywood.
He thought of other young men and women who had come before him, granted an instant in the corporate spotlight. The limos, the thousand-dollar hotel rooms, the access to the throne room. He wondered at the difference between those who had made it and those who were not even memories. He knew that most people granted this chance failed. He hoped he had what it took. He knew some of them mistakenly assumed that a glimpse of the high life meant they could claim it as their own. They padded their expense
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