Page 86 of To Belong Together
“Yeah. Okay.” She hit the button to drop the call, then resumed staring. Her jaw shifted, and her bottom lip curled in, between her teeth. The glow reflecting into the car from the headlights shifted on her neck as she swallowed. She passed a hand over one cheek and then the other.
“What is it?” he asked.
He knew, but only in general. If he had any hope of offering comfort, he needed specifics.
“I missed it.” She waved a hand toward the radio display. “Slept right through it.”
If only she were talking about a favorite song. That, he could solve in fantastic fashion. “Missed what?”
“Twenty-four hours. Time’s up.” Her mouth turned into a sharp frown. She swiveled her head toward the darkness surrounding them. “If he’s alive somewhere, he’s suffering, and what can we do? We’re sohelpless. Where could he be?” Tears softened her enunciation, but she smacked her clenched fist into her thigh.
He covered her fist with his hand. “We don’t know he’s suffering. He might be fine, waiting for us. And we’re not helpless. We’re part of a massive search. We’ll find him.”
Please, God.
She jerked away, hopped out, slammed her door. Even through the vehicle, he heard her cry of frustration and grief.
He rested his head back, praying, giving her space. He couldn’t guarantee they’d find her father, and the false assurance probably hadn’t helped. His vision drifted to the time on the radio display. Twenty-four hours before, John had been hoping Erin would show up at the reception. Hoping to hold her on the dance floor and laugh with her about how often she kicked his feet.
He angled to see out the passenger’s side window. She stood three feet from the car, one arm crossed, the other hand holding her face.
As he exited, he heard her sniffling. One touch of the shoulder was all it took for her to fall into his arms. He let her cry it out before rubbing her back. “Susanna is right. We need to call it a night. We can pick it up again in the morning.”
“We can’t quit.”
“We’re not quitting. Others are looking, but I’m not seeing right, and you’re too emotional and tired to drive.”
She eased back, a crease between her brows. “Not seeing right?”
Shouldn’t have mentioned that. “It’s just the concussion. We need to let others continue the search. Just for tonight.”
“I have to be involved.”
“No. You have to trust. Trust the teams, but mostly, trust God.”
Darkness and doubt shaded her brown eyes as her forehead furrowed and her mouth tightened with a frown she appeared to be fighting. Hard.
She lost the battle, coughed, started crying afresh.
He understood how the mention of trusting God had led to tears. Recognizing trust as the right answer—the only answer—didn’t make accepting helplessness any easier. He’d been there enough to understand.
But he wasn’t completely helpless.
For now, he would help by ensuring that whatever else Erin felt, she didn’t feel alone.
27
He was walking her to the door? Erin stared as John circled the hood of his car. Mom and Dad’s short front walk didn’t warrant an escort for safety. The memory of their kiss sent her stomach somersaulting, but the thought of Dad righted her sensibility once again.
She pushed open her door before he got it for her. If Dad’s disappearance and the search had taught her anything, it was to expect the worst. So what hope did she and John have?
He stopped at the side of the car, studying her face with regret. For a moment before he spoke, she wondered if he’d read her thoughts. “I’m sorry this is happening. I know he means the world to you.”
She drew her fingernails across her scalp, then dropped her hand. “Thanks.”
“It starts getting light around six. I can pick you up again then?”
“You—” She stopped short of questioning if he’d really get up so early for her sake. “You don’t have to.”
