Page 90 of Final Approach
“Change.”
“You say that with a note of regret in your voice. Everything okay with you and Nathan?”
“Yes, for the most part. You know the Bureau is going to assign him somewhere and I’m going to have to follow.”
“Yeah, I know.” The Bureau had a habit of doing that. But Jesslyn knew that when she agreed to marry the man. “You don’t want to go?”
“Oh, I do! Yes, of course. I’ll be fine. My biggest regret? Leaving the youth center.” She laughed. “How silly is that?”
“Not silly at all.” Jesslyn had opened a youth center in honor of her parents. “You’ve poured a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into that place. Not to mention money. It’s a huge success and so many parents have come to rely on it as a safe place for their kids to go.”
“I know. And I love it. I also love Nathan, so...” She blew out a sigh. “God will work it out. I have faith in that, so I’m not stressing too hard.”
“But a little?”
“Yeah. A little.”
“You know the one thing you haven’t said you’ll miss?”
“What’s that?”
“Your job as deputy fire marshal.”
“No, I guess I haven’t.”
“It’ll work out. God has a way of doing that.”
“I know. You’re right. I just wish he’d give me a little more advance notice about things.”
Kristine laughed. “Well, just keep bugging him until he does.”
“Yeah, I’m good at that.”
The rest of the ride home went smoothly, even though she kept an eye on her mirror. She couldn’t help notice Jesslyn doing the same thing. Her mind kept going to Andrew, though. “Should we go by the bookstore?” she asked.
“No, Andrew’s there. He’ll keep us updated and let us know if we can do anything.”
“Okay. I don’t want to be in the way or make him feel like he has to pull his attention away from his parents for any reason. I’ll wait for him to text or call me.”
But goodness, it was hard to do that.
ANDREW PULLED TO A STOPat his parents’ home-slash-bookstore and hurled himself out of the vehicle and up the three porch steps to the front door. Other officers had already arrived, but he flashed his badge and made his way inside to find his mother wrapped in his father’s arms, sitting on the couch in the reading corner. Both of his parents looked worn and pale. Older than their sixty years.
“Sorry it took me so long. Tell me everything.” He pulled up a chair from the card table and planted it in front of them.
“Oh Andrew,” his mother said, “it was just awful. Your father and I had gone to get some food, and when we came back, the door was open and the cash register had been broken into and the displays knocked over...” She sniffed and swiped at the stream of tears sliding down her cheeks. “And he came rushing down the stairs and out the door, pushing your father...”
A sob slipped out and Andrew wanted to smash the man’s face. Doing his best to keep his emotions in check, he said, “It’s okay, Mom. I’m here. I’ll take care of this. Are your cameras working?”
“Yes, of course, but all you can see is a person wearing a mask. We already looked.”
“That’s okay, I want a copy anyway.”
“Sure.” His father nodded, then rubbed his temples, careful not to touch the wounded place.
“Let me get you some Motrin for that headache.”
He ran up to their apartment and found the medicine and two water bottles.
