Last week, we shared Chapter Five of noted author Katherine Valentine’s newest inspirational novel.  Join us each Monday as we watch this incredible story unfold.

• Chapter One
• Chapter Two
• Chapter Three
• Chapter Four
• Chapter Five

Sweet Dreams – Chapter Six

Juan and his friend disappeared as soon as they heard the sirens. Emma rushed to Donny’s side and waited until Officer Ted Hawkins arrived. Emma’s hero would need a few stitches.

When the officer learned her address, he called Ava. The two were old friends. Ava was waiting inside the hallway when Emma pulled up to the curb. She threw her arms around her as soon as she walked through the front door, her face tight with concern.

“What were you thinking, going downtown alone at night?” she asked, leading her down the corridor.

“Apparently, I wasn’t thinking.”

In fact, Emma had never felt so defeated, so angry at herself. She was a foolish woman who hadn’t thought things through before placing herself and poor Donny at risk.  If she had, she would have realized that Benjamin would never have gone downtown. Knowing the way he felt about this area, he would headed the other way.

It had been a fool’s mission.

David Letterman’s voice filtering through the walls of 2A. Somewhere further down the hallway, a child began to cry.

“I’ll make us a cup of tea,” Ava said, stepping into her apartment that smelled faintly of  cabbage.

Emma sunk down on the sofa and rested her head against the back cushion. Maybe if she closed her eyes, the headache that was gathering like an angry storm would go away.

“So what were you doing there and why is Ted searching for Benjamin?” Ted had given her a quick rundown when he had called.

“Benjamin left this afternoon in a huff and hasn’t come home. We had big fight,” Emma began, her angry words still ringing in her head. “I waited until it was dark, then I got worried and decided to go out looking for him.”

Ava set down a tray and passed over a spoon and paper napkin. “What was the fight about?”

“I got a call from Madison High School. Benjamin hasn’t been seen there for three weeks.  The principal tried to reach me, but apparently, my answering machine wasn’t working. Benjamin removed the tape.”

“So, where’s he been all this time?” The tea kettle whistled. Ava shuffled back towards the open kitchen.

“At Caulfield.”

“His old high school? How did he manage to get re-enrolled?”

“He told the admittance office that I had come into an inheritance and had bought back our old home and that as soon as I recovered from my recent illness, I would be in to sign the paperwork.”

“Well, I suppose if you’re going to lie, you might as well make it a good one.” Ava carried in two mugs of steaming tea. She passed one to Emma and then placed the other on a small side table beside her recliner. Sliding in, she popped out the footrest and settled in.

“I really can’t blame him,” Emma said, using an old copy of Southern Magazine as a coaster. “He could win a full scholarship to Penn State, but in order to do so, he needs to complete certain courses, courses that Madison does not give.”

“What about Canfield? Why won’t they let him finish out the year?”

Emma shrugged. “The principal refused.”

“Who’s the principal over there now?”

“Emmett Sands.” Emma exhaled loudly. “You know the funny thing is that only a few hours before, I had actually allowed myself to believe that things would work out. The Main Street Deli called. They want to double their orders starting next week.”

“Good for you!”

“And Father Joe gave the Knights my name. They want two sheet cakes this Saturday.” She sniggered. “I can’t believe I was fool enough to think if things continued that maybe… just maybe, I could make a living at this. At least enough to support us. Then the call from Madison. The fight with Benjamin.  He hates me, Ava.”

She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, trying to block out the string of his hurtful words that had been thrust at her like a lancer.

“Absolutely hates me. He says we’re living here is all my fault and you know…after some thought, I think he might be right.”

“How do you figure that? You didn’t ask your husband to run off.”

“No, but I should have tried harder to keep him at Canfield. Or at the very least, I could have bypassed Jerry’s insistence that I not work and pursued a career. Then we wouldn’t be at the mercy of public assistance programs.

“Jerry let our son down and now it looks like I did, too,” she said, choking on the words.

Ava reached over and took her hand. “The devil has your tail, and he’s doing his best to make your bad situation even worse by filling you with a lot of guilt and self-recrimination. Don’t listen to his lies.

“Look, this might not be the way you saw your life going, but it’s the life that God has chosen to help you fulfill His divine plan. And you’re an important part of that plan.”

The thought made her laugh.  “Me?  You’re kidding, right?”

“I know at present, you’re tempted to think that you’re just so much flotsam set adrift on stormy seas. But that’s a lie. The Bible tells us that we are made in His image, to do good works. Now, you might not see at this moment what those works might be, but don’t let the devil trick you into believing that God doesn’t have you in the palm of His hand and is watching your every step.  He brought you here, didn’t He? So I could comfort you by my dazzling insights into His grace.”

Emma smiled.  “You sound like Father Joe.”

“Taught him most of what he knows,” Ava chuckled.

“God’s protected you this evening, Em. Ted told me how Donny rescued you. Do you think that was a coincidence? And what about Ted being just a few blocks over when he got the call? Once those thugs heard the sirens, they took off. You think that’s a coincidence, too?”

Emma’s smile broadened. “Now you sound like Father Joe’s theory of ‘God-incidences.”

“As long as you live, there is going to be sad times. It’s just the way life is.  But you must not give up hope, or go thinking that because you can’t help the ones you love as they would like to helped that you’re a failure. In the end, their God’s children first.

“No, my dear, the only way we can fail is when we stop trying. So…” she patted Emma’s knee.  “We’re going to pray and ask for God’s intervention. Ask Him to show us how to work things out for Benjamin so he can go back to his old high school.”

There was a time that Emma would have been uncomfortable with that suggestion. Like many, she felt her relationship with God was something personal not to be displayed in public.

But that had since changed. If anything, moments like these now made her feel more deeply connected with God.

They joined hands. Ava said a simple prayer. She wasn’t much on words, but the words she chose always seem just right, asking God to open a way for Benjamin to return to Canfield and to spread a blessed blanket of peace over mother and son.

When it was over, Emma felt the first shards of hope breaking through the storm.

Ted arrived thirty minutes later with news about Donny. He had promised Emma on an update.

He was a solid, broad shouldered man and seemed to dwarf the tiny apartment.

“Donny’s fine,” he said, directing his comments to Emma. “He needed a couple of stitches and they bandaged his wrist, but didn’t feel that he needed to stay overnight. I dropped him off at the men’s shelter,” he ended by nodding in that direction of town. “One of the attendants promised to keep a close eye on him.”

“And my son? Anything?”

“I’m afraid not.” He placed his hat on an end table and took a seat opposite Emma. “I checked the normal hang-outs, places that kids think they won’t be found. Then I asked around. No one has seen a teenager fitting that description.”

“I appreciate your help. I just wish I knew where he had gone.”

“Mrs. Smith…”

“Call me Em, please. After all, you’re a good friend of Ava’s.”

“That he is,” Ava said, rubbing his shoulder. His broad face softened. He reached up and took hold of her hand.

“And after tonight, I certainly count you as a friend, too. Did I say thank you.”

“No need, ma’am,” he said, with a slight blush to his checks and smiled in a way that Ava had not seen since his wife died.

“I’m guessing that your son is staying at a friend’s house. When kids take off, they usually seek out one of their own.”

“But I called. It was the first thing I thought to do, but they all swore they hadn’t seen him.”

“Teenagers live by a silent code. Even if he was standing in the same room, they would have lied.” He reached for his walkie-talkie, hit a button and brought it to life. “Name your son’s best friend.”

Emma thought a moment. “That would be Timothy Freeman. They eat lunch together and sometimes they meet at the mall.”

Dispatch…

“What’s his home phone number?”

“859-2363.”

Ted relayed the number to dispatch and waited for it to be placed through. After several rings, a sleepy woman’s voice answered.

“Hello, Mrs. Freeman, this is Officer Hawker from the State Police. No…no one has been injured.

“Mrs. Freeman, I’m working with Emma Smith. I believe your sons are friends. We’re trying to locate Benjamin. No, I don’t think there’s any reason to be alarmed.  She’s just trying to track him down and wants to know that he’s safe.

“I was wondering if you might make a search of your house. See if Benjamin is hiding out somewhere. Yes….I know….. But sometimes kids sneak in and parents aren’t aware.  I appreciate that. Thanks.” He gave her Ava’s number. “I’ll wait for your call.”

Ten minutes later Timothy’s mother called full of apologies. Ted had been right. Benjamin had been found in a sleeping bag in her son’s closet. She offered to let him stay the night which Ted suggested might be a good idea. Emma agreed.

“Part of me is immensely relieved, but the other part wants to drag him back here and put him under house arrest,” Emma confessed, following Ted to the door. Ava handed him his hat.

“I wish all my cases were this easy.”

“Still, I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me tonight.”

“It’s what I get paid for.”

“Maybe, but it must give you a great deal of satisfaction knowing that you’ve helped to provide for a mother’s peace of mind.”

He smiled and Emma felt the warmth emanating from the depths of his dark, brown eyes.

“Nice meeting, you,” Ted said, donning his hat and adjusting the bill. “Ava, see you next week for Bingo.”

“I’ll be here,” she assured him. “Oh, and stop down sometime at the soup kitchen. I know that a bachelor like you could use a home cooked meal.”

“Maybe, I will. Donny says Emma’s pastries are first rate and he should know. Used to be a professional pastry chef at some fancy restaurant in Chicago before he let the booze take over.

“Well, good night ladies.”

And with a nod, he headed down the hall while Emma tried to wrap her mind around the fact that Donny, who spent his nights on the streets and his days washing pots at the soup kitchen, could probably show her a thing or two.

What a difference a week could make, Emma thought on her way to morning Mass.

Through some alchemy that Emma would never understand, Benjamin had been reinstated at Caulfield High. The school secretary would only say that a call had come down from the Superintendent’s office that Principal Sands was to allow Benjamin to finish out his senior year.

When she shared the good news with Benjamin, she had expected him to be thrilled. Instead, his only reply had been, “It’s about time.”

Emma lingered after morning mass to light a candle.  Donny had spent a week healing then had disappeared. She worried incessantly that her two attackers might have sought him out for payback. If he didn’t show up today, she had made up her mind to ask Ted for his help.  Ted Hawker had been showing up regularly this past week at the soup kitchen.

The sanctuary held the hushed silence of in-between masses. The morning regulars had already left, some heading over to the Main Street Deli that had put in a small seating area. The breakfast special which included one egg, two strips of bacon and a slice of provolone on a toasted English muffin for $1.25 was a hit among the seniors.
Emma finished her prayers then tidied up the altar, replacing the linens and used vessels. Ava headed the Altar Guild and had asked if Emma would cleanup after today’s Mass.

Father Joe was just finishing hanging his robes as she entered the sacristy.

“How are the pastry orders coming?” he asked, closing the closet door to where the vestments were stored. “Get any new customers?”

“More every week. In fact, it’s the strangest thing, Father,” she mused, washing the vessels, then removed a fresh towel from the linen drawer. “Every time I think we’re sunk because the electric bill is more than I budgeted or Benjamin needs a new pair of sneakers or whatever… another order comes in.”

“I see,” he said, smiling.

“Just last week, my car battery died.  Who knew that a car battery cost over a hundred dollars?”

“Prices certainly do keep escalating,” he said, nodding his head.

“In my situation, that hundred dollars might have been a million. I’d just finished paying the car insurance. Now that the Benjamin is attending Canfield again I have to keep that old rust bucket going.”

She returned the cleaned vessels to their place, locked the cabinet and handed him the key.

“Ava told me that the school had reversed its decision.  You must be very pleased.”

“Pleased but mystified. I still don’t understand what happened.”

“God’s ways are mysterious,” he said. “But I suspect that your neighbor had something to do with it.”

“Ava?”

“She used to clean house for Harry Sands.”

“The School Superintendent?”

“She worked for him for nearly twenty years.”

“Ava never said a word.”

“That’s her way.  Sorry, I’ve interrupted your story. Please go on.”

“Well, I desperately needed a car battery, but couldn’t figure out how I could pay for it. Then, I decided to pray and ask the Lord for His help.”

“Always a good plan of action,” he concurred.

“That afternoon, I got a call from my friend, Arlene Fields. I told you about her. She’s married to Ira Fields, the cardiologist.  Anyway, she had just been made chairperson for the hospital’s annual fundraising dinner, and asked if I would provide the desserts. It took me three days to put everything together, and I used just about every one’s freezer in the apartment building, but in the end, I made five hundred dollars.”

“The Lord will guide you always; He will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land,” he cantered in a lovely baritone voice.

“That’s lovely, Father.” She grew quiet. “There’s a question that’s been weighing heavily on my mind.”

“Ask away.”

“So many wonderful things have happened since I returned to the Church. Do you think that the reason my life fell apart is because I stopped coming to Mass or praying?”

“Oh, Em….”  He sighed heavily, then patted the cushion beside him and waited until she was seated before answering.

“Sometimes things just happen. Good people get sick and die of cancer, or get involved in a traffic accident; or loose their precious child. But do I think that God brings these things on people as a form of punishment? Heaven’s no! They happen because man was given the gift of free will and not everyone uses it to make good choices.

“Take your husband, for instance. His poor choices caused you and your son to be removed from your home and impoverished. His choice caused your suffering. Not the Lord.

“It’s like someone at a party who decides to take that extra drink that dulls their senses, then gets behind the wheel of a car that causes the death of an innocent family. The person who took the drink caused the suffering. Not the Lord.

“God never intended that any of these things happen, but because He has covenanted with man not to usurp his free will, His hands are tied.”

He looked at her in earnest, his eyes revealing a depth of trust in God’s providence that she could only hope to one day experience.

“But never forget, Em.  God is always there to pickup the pieces, help the troubled find hope and as in your case, to uncover a ministry.”

“Ministry?” she laughed, shocked. “What ministry? You must have me confused with Mother Teresa.”

“All those who serve God are saints, Em. In a way, you’re no different than Mother Teresa.”

“I think that’s little over the top.” She studied the herringbone pattern of the brick floor tiles.

He continued. “Before you began to volunteer at the soup kitchen, the meals were….now I don’t mean to be unkind here… but they were pretty lackluster. Rich tells me that since you began volunteering and making those fabulous decorated cakes and desserts, the other volunteers have started to put more thought and effort into the meals. In fact, he said just the other day, he saw the kitchen crew with cookbooks, discussing new dishes.”

She had seen them, too and the surprised faces of clients when they discovered Chicken Picatta and linguini with clam sauce being served that day for lunch.

“Then there are the clients, themselves,” he continued. “Your idea of asking clients to list their birthdays and then making individual cakes for each has touched so many. When they see that cake with their name on it, their eyes light up like a hundred watt bulb.

“You have to remember, Em, these are basically forgotten people; yet your simple act of kindness makes them feel special. There’s validation in being recognized. They are no longer just a face in the crowd.”

“It wasn’t anything, really,” she protested.

“It was to them. In essence, it lifted their spirits and that’s what a ministry is designed to do. Ministry at its best connects God’s love and joy to others through our talents. Your gift as a baker is doing just that.”

They both rose. She slipped into her coat. He buttoned his and threw on his scarf. She adjusted the back collar as they walked back through the sanctuary.

“To answer your question, Em, I don’t think that God punished you for not going to Mass, or for not having a more active prayer life. But, I do believe that once you invited Him back into your life, He began to work overtime to help you find your way through the shattered pieces. And somewhere along that journey out of the darkness, you uncovered a gift that not only will help you meet your needs, but in the process meet the needs of others.”

“But how?” she asked. “By baking birthday cakes? It hardly seems something that God can use to change the world.”

“Not the whole world, perhaps,” Father Joe said, pausing beneath the statue of St. Teresa of Avila. “But it might change your world and the world of those God places in your path. You once told me that you have always loved to bake.  You liked seeing the look of pleasure on the faces of those who sampled your desserts.”

“Yes, but it seems so simple compared to ending world hunger or finding a way for everyone to have access to medical care.”

“God hasn’t called you to address those issues. You were formed for another purpose.”

“What purpose?”

Father Joe looked into her eyes and smile. “That, my dear Em is a journey of discovery that each soul must take on their own.”

He pushed open the church doors, allowing her to step through first. They headed down the stone steps.

“You know, talking about your delicious cakes and pies has made me hungry,” he said, rubbing his midsection.

She laughed and linked her arm through his. Father Joe was becoming a dear friend, almost like a big brother.

“Well, then. Let me show you a place where we can take care of that sweet tooth of yours. It just so happens that I dropped off a couple of coffee cakes at the Soup Kitchen before mass.”

Join us next Monday for the next chapter of Sweet Dreams by Katherine Valentine.

• Chapter One
• Chapter Two
• Chapter Three
• Chapter Four
• Chapter Five

Copyright 2009 Katherine Valentine