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Authors: Gail Sattler

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BOOK: Head Over Heels
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“Here. Can you take our picture for a before shot?”

Russ shoveled the rest of the sandwich into his mouth and stepped back. “This isn't going to work. If
we're going to see the results, I need a close-up shot of everyone for the detail. Do you ladies mind if I take individual pictures instead of a group shot?”

Those who didn't nod, shrugged, so Russ took that as a collective yes.

He snapped a close-up picture of every girl there, including Marielle when she wasn't paying attention to him. He noticed that not a single male remained at that particular table except himself, and he was only there because he'd been hijacked to be the photographer.

During the application of each layer of makeup, Russ also snapped more pictures, hoping first that Marielle's camera had a large enough memory card to handle everything he intended to take, and second, that she had new batteries. He found the process interesting because the technique of applying the makeup was something he'd never seen before. Then, when all the girls were done, they insisted that Marielle also have a makeover.

“No. Not me. I don't wear much makeup.”

Susan clapped her hands together once. “You have to do this! Giving you a makeover is one of the main reasons I came. It was fun to do all these lovely young ladies, and I need a challenge.”

“A challenge?” Marielle sputtered. “I don't know if I like the sound of that.”

“I mean that you're an adult, and your skin texture will be different and you'll have different needs. Let me show you.”

Before Marielle could protest more, Susan had her seated in the chair and was already applying something to Marielle's cheeks.

For this, Russ swapped cameras and used his own.

When they were done, Russ's chin nearly hit the floor. The beautiful woman seated in the chair was every inch Marielle, but at the same time, she was completely different.

She was the most beautiful woman he'd seen in his life.

After the girls divided into groups to pick through Susan's samples, Susan held out a mirror to Marielle.

“This isn't me,” Marielle said, staring at her reflection.

“But it is.” Susan waved to Russ. “If you'll give me that camera, I'll take a picture of the two of you together.”

“As long as you don't come near me with that tube of lipstick,” Russ said.

“Some men are starting to wear makeup, you know.”

“I heard. But not this one.”

Russ rested his hands on the back of the chair where Marielle sat, bent at the waist and leaned forward so his face was next to hers. The woman took a couple of pictures, then returned the camera.

“It's time for me to go. Thanks for having me.”

“Thank you for doing this, Susan. I hope someday these girls will buy your makeup,” said Marielle.

“Whether they do or not doesn't matter. What does matter was that we all had fun.”

After Susan left, the girls started filtering out, and when they started leaving, so did the boys who had been paying much more attention than usual.

“This was a good idea. I hope it works. When we go to the key-making booth tomorrow we just might have our answers.”

“W…we?” Marielle stammered. “What do you mean? Why do you want me to go with you?”

“She wasn't very cooperative with me. Hopefully you'll get a better reaction.”

“If you think it will make a difference, sure, I can go with you.”

“I also want to take you out for lunch on the way there. You do so much for everyone else, it's about time someone did something for you, and I accept that responsibility.”

At first Marielle frowned, but soon her thoughtful expression changed to an impish grin. “Okay. I'll go with you for lunch and to the home center store if you come to church with me on Sunday.”

“You're kidding, right?”

“Nope. That's the deal.”

“That's silly. The trip to the home center store is to benefit us both, and me buying you lunch benefits you.”

“And going to church on Sunday will benefit you.”

He couldn't argue with that logic. Strangely, now that he was obligated to go, he didn't mind. In fact, he was almost looking forward to returning to church after so many years.

“All right. I'll go.”

Russ found himself smiling. Maybe it was time. He wasn't sure what would happen, but it seemed a good time to find out.

Chapter Twelve

R
uss scanned the interior of the church. Of course the inside was as old as the outside, but it was in much better condition for its age. The walls were plain and painted a neutral beige, and the ceiling appeared to be some kind of hardwood. The floor was covered by a well-worn Berber-style carpet that had seen better days. He suspected that it covered a hardwood floor that was the same wood as the ceiling, except the floor beneath was probably in worse shape than the carpet that covered it.

At the front, light shone in a rainbow of colors through the two stained-glass windows, one on each side of the raised area where sat an elaborately carved wooden podium. The wooden pews also reflected times gone by. They were worn, but clean and polished, at least where the verathane hadn't been worn off. Well-used hymnals were nestled in little pockets on the backs of the pews, giving the whole place a well-loved ambience.

In place of an organ, a small group of musicians played a contemporary Christian hymn, allowing people to talk without raising their voices before the service began.

Russ turned his head and looked behind him. Nearly every seat was filled, and in many of the pews, people were standing and shuffling in closer together to make room for others to squeeze in beside someone they knew.

Today was the first time Russ had been in the sanctuary. Until now, he'd spent most of his time in the church basement. “Wow,” he muttered as he glanced around. “This place is packed.”

She turned to him, rested her hand on his arm and smiled. “No more than usual for a Sunday morning.”

Russ was about to tell her that he didn't know how so many people could fit into such a small place, but someone called out Marielle's name and waved, interrupting him. She waved back, then waved to a few more people in the crowd who waved to her. She even went so far as to playfully blow a kiss in the air toward one of the teenaged boys, who pretended to catch it. The boy then kissed his closed fist, and laughed before turning back to his friend.

Russ leaned his head toward her so he could speak quietly. “Do you know
everybody
here?”

“Of course not. But I do know most.”

It looked like it, too. She was completely in her element, and she looked so happy she nearly glowed.

Russ didn't feel nervous about being here; in fact, the opposite was true. He felt fairly comfortable, and that was what made him nervous. He shouldn't have felt comfortable. It was just like the church his mother had
taken him to when he was growing up. In fact, the building was probably the same age.

Yesterday, before he and Marielle had gone to the home center store, he'd taken her to a quaint little bistro he liked, where they were on his “turf.”

He'd seen a few people he knew, and had nodded politely at them. He didn't wave at people across a crowded room. He certainly didn't blow kisses in the air.

Yet he felt more comfortable in Marielle's church than he had yesterday, where he should have been in his element.

It wasn't right.

He was a glutton for punishment.

Yesterday, he'd told himself all the reasons they shouldn't keep seeing each other, yet here he was again, not hating the experience, but actually looking forward to maybe once again joining with other believers in God's presence.

The sad fact was that all the time he had left to be with her was one week, and then he would be back at his job. He had no good reason or opportunity to see her again unless she called him to say she was having trouble with either a program or one of the computers.

Since the worship leader still hadn't approached the podium, Marielle turned toward him.

“I can't believe that the clerk didn't recognize a single one of the girls as the one who made duplicates of your keys yesterday. What are we going to do now?”

Russ found it interesting that she had grouped them together as “we,” when really, it was his problem, not
hers. “I don't know. This puts us back to square one, doesn't it?”

“Not really. At least we know there's a security breach. I just wish I could find some sensible reason.”

“They're teenagers. Sometimes there is no reason.”

“There's always a reason. Even if it's a stupid reason, there will be one.”

Before Russ could respond, a man's voice boomed over the loudspeakers welcoming everyone present, and inviting the congregation to stand.

Russ followed along with the order of the service, feeling more and more like it had been far too long since he'd last done this very thing, though it had been his own choice. He looked up at the old, scarred cross hanging on the wall near the ceiling. It wasn't that God had turned his back on Russ. God had been faithful. Russ knew it was he who had turned his back on God.

He knew he would be back next week, with a new and improved attitude.

Without asking, when the service was over he automatically followed Marielle down to the youth center room in the basement.

Today, it was only boys in the room, taking advantage of the day that was open for the online games. Today, he didn't think about anything more than simply having a bit of good, honest fun.

Even though it had been three weeks that he'd been off work, today was the first time he could say he really felt relaxed. In the end, Grant had been right. Russ
had
needed more than a couple of days off.

Marielle's laughter destroyed his concentration and caused Russ to crash his helicopter.

He stood. “I've had enough. If anyone wants to use my player, I've got a lot of points built up.”

A boy whose name he couldn't remember quickly took his chair. Russ watched the boy immediately fire up another helicopter and take off.

Marielle knew all their names, even the new ones. He still didn't know all the names of the regulars. Russ made up his mind to learn them, even if he only had a week left.

Suddenly the lunch Marielle had made and he'd so much enjoyed turned to a lump in his stomach.

One week left.

Marielle's voice rang out from the corner of the room, but there was suddenly no tone of gaiety. “Russ, can you come here, please?”

“What's up?” he asked, concerned.

“Look.” Marielle pointed to the shelf in the corner of the room.

“So? It's a pile of disks.”

She slid closer to him. “These are the disks that went missing a couple of days ago. I know I didn't put them here. I would never have put them here. I was going to lock them up in the desk.”

“But there are only boys here. The clerk at the key booth said it was a girl we were looking for.”

Marielle shook her head. “Not necessarily. We now found out that it's a girl who made the copies, but it's not necessarily one of our girls who took the keys in the first place. But I trust every one of these boys here. How could one of them have done something so
devious, especially working with a partner? That takes planning.” Marielle swept one arm in the air to encompass all the boys busily keyboarding at the computers and racing their helicopters, none of them having any clue they were now considered suspects.

Russ crossed his arms over his chest. “I don't understand what is happening, but the first thing I can think of is that someone is looking for a file. First on the computers in here, then at my house, and now they're looking at the files on the disks. This doesn't make any sense. It's just a bunch of kids.”

“Did you see that movie a while back, where a teenage boy hacked into all sorts of military secrets? Could something like that be happening here?”

He stared at Marielle. “Be realistic. That was fiction. Look at your group. Most of them don't have computers at home—they barely know the basics. Not one of them is capable of even a fraction of what you saw in that movie.”

Marielle looked up at the clock. “Five minutes, everyone,” she called out over her shoulder, “then it's time to go home.”

A united groan echoed through the room. But with only a gentle reminder when the clock hit the top of the hour, everyone said goodbye and headed home.

Marielle started at one end of the two tables, Russ at the other, and they met in the middle, shutting all the computers off.

Russ pulled his cell phone off his belt clip. “I just have one more thing to do, now that everyone is gone except you and me.” He dragged a chair around the
room to all the windows, where he carefully checked for disturbances in the dust patterns. One window appeared to be cleaner than the others, so he took a photo of it with his cell phone.

“This isn't as good as my real camera,” he mumbled, “but it will do.”

He turned around and hopped off the chair. “I'll compare these at home and see if maybe someone is coming through this window. That may be our answer, although it doesn't look like enough disturbance for a person to have sneaked in.”

“Uh, that may have been me. I opened that window on Friday for a few minutes because it was getting stuffy in here with so many people in the room. These basement windows aren't very big.”

The moment of triumph sunk into a puddle at Russ's feet. “Oh well. I tried. Let's go.”

As he did every time he gave Marielle a ride, he helped her up into the passenger seat of his SUV, then jogged around to the driver's side.

“I've never had anyone open the door for me like that, yet you've done it before. That seems so old-fashioned.”

“My mother taught me manners. I also got very used to opening the door because she had to help support my sister a lot. Sasha spent a lot of time either on crutches or in a wheelchair, and she needed help. We didn't have a car with fancy wheelchair access. I just got the cheapest car I could get that would run, and we made do.”

“Oh. I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay. We survived.”

They were at Marielle's town house much too soon.

He stopped outside of her carport but didn't get out. Instead of looking at Marielle, he looked first at her town house, which was simple and modest, just like Marielle. He then looked down the block, in the direction of a small playground. Her neighborhood wasn't new, but was well maintained, respectable and practical. Again, just like Marielle.

“How would you like to go to the park or something? Or just take a walk, and then catch dinner somewhere?”

“I'm sorry, I just can't. I have a bunch of stuff I have to do that I've been putting off all week. I should have done it yesterday, but I spent most of yesterday with you.” She opened the door and slid out. “Don't worry about seeing me to the door. I'm just going to get in my car, go to the store for a few things and come right back home. I'll see you tomorrow, I guess.”

Russ watched her do exactly as she said. He followed her for a few blocks, but didn't go after her when she turned into the parking lot for the grocery store.

The whole way home, all he could think of was Marielle and how in some ways, since he'd met her, his life was so different. For the first time since he could remember, he felt content. Even his ulcer had been acting up less. Yet sometimes he felt his life was spiraling out of his control, and other times he felt like his life had been put on pause and it was time to hit the play button and take back control of the game.

He'd just pulled into his driveway when the musical tone of his cell phone sang out.

He checked the display. “Hey, Marielle. What's up?”

Marielle's voice came out shaky. “I just got home. There was…someone in here. I'm so scared.”

Russ's heart turned cold. “Get out. Quickly. Don't stay inside. Go to the front and stand under the street-light and call the police from there. I'll be over as fast as I can.”

BOOK: Head Over Heels
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