A Why in the Journey

Her phone rang while she was still at home, but things had changed since last night when she noticed its silence. Andrea let it ring. She was having second thoughts about her response to Richard’s request.
The two of them had great conversations and found things in common that they enjoyed. She thought of Richard as handsome, honest and thoughtful, so she originally responded with favour to his request to phone her. Even with all this positivity for a potential relationship, there was a big, very big, difference that Andrea knew lingered unexpressed. The Harrisons were religious—and Richard certainly was. So, she was not wanting to get close to any of that.
In her professional capacity as a nurse, she had served the Harrisons in caring for Jake, recognizing his religion but avoiding discussing it. Even the religious aspect of the rest of the family, she purposely ignored. She was dedicated, determined and stubbornly Atheist, having purposely avoided Jake’s religious church memorial and only dropping in at the reception to express her respects. When on her own, the Andrea who was not an on-duty palliative care nurse, the real Andrea, drove by churches with pity, if not disdain, for those so deceived.
Andrea silenced her phone.

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Mark, with his cellphone, headed for Andrea’s apartment late in the afternoon. This is like a TV show, a stakeout. It’s kind of fun, he thought as he parked where he could see the 1969 convertible. He filled his time by using up his cellphone data and researching the Cougar XR7. Only 4,024 of these convertibles had been produced. Only two had the Boss 429 engine, and eight had the 428 Cobra Jet engine. Mark was sure this one had a 460. Either he was mistaken or Andrea’s dad, before he passed away, had done an engine swap.
Mark continued to read off his cellphone: 335 horsepower with 440 foot-pounds’ breaking torque. He set his phone aside as to him this was the equivalent of car porn. It was probably best he not go any further.
Andrea started her Cougar at 5:30, he noted. He called the cell number where he could send a group text to keep everyone informed of the execution of the plan. He texted, “The big cat is on its way.” Then he started up his truck, which Andrea might recognize, and followed from a far distance. He knew where she was going, so it was not a big deal if he lost the tail. But when you’re living out fantasy—“008. Palmer. Mark Palmer”—you might as well put your best into it.
Richard, like all the others, received Mark’s group text when the ’69 Cougar was parked: “Cat’s resting. Little kitty heading your way.”
Andrea was at the elevator. Mark hung back by the revolving doors to text everyone, “Little kitty coming up.”
The elevators were too far away for Richard to hear the doors opening and whatever Francois would say when greeting Andrea. All he had access to was his imagination.

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“Mom, you knew about this stuff before?” Andrea questioned.
“As a little child, I had some religion. Then we moved and we stopped.” After a little pause, Ruth continued. “You know your grandpa John is really my stepdad, right?”
Andrea nodded. “Yes, I knew that. Grandpa John married Grandma later.”
Her mom continued with, “My real dad, Alfred, died when I was young. It was tough for our little family, and we ended up moving. I think your grandma was mad at God, religion and church, so we stopped going and didn’t talk about it again. That’s why after all this trauma you are facing with Richard, I asked if going to church helped, because my mom sure blamed God for Alfred’s death.”
Andrea thought, Oh! If only Grandma Grace had known Richard, he could have explained to her how grand and immense God’s LOVE really is! You can’t blame God, although I was close to that kind of anger just a few hours ago. I could have been mad at Him too. However, I had Richard’s dad to remind me, and I had Shameena’s story to guide me.
“Mom, I’ve got an idea from a song at church this morning stuck in my head. It talks about ‘love coming after me’ … something, something, ‘chasing me down,’ then something like ‘fighting for me,’ ‘walls crashing’ or ‘falling’ or ‘breaking down.’ Ah, I can’t remember it now. Anyway, it’s about God’s love pursuing me. I wish Grandma had heard it. It might have made a difference.”