"Thanks." She glanced down at the card and then up at him, her eyes wide with hope. "Are you hiring?" Her voice held a note of desperation. "As much as I love the guild, I'm not sure I can go back there, but I don't have a job."
Mark scratched his cheek as he tried to hide his surprise. "Um, I hadn't really thought about it. It's just Lily, my business partner, and me running the studio. I'd have to discuss it with her first."
Judy leaned forward. "I know how to edit photos! I took a few classes as electives. I'm good at it. Or I can be a receptionist, answer the phone, set up appointments-whatever you need."
Things had been getting busy, and someone in the studio all day answering the phone could be a distinct advantage. It would mean potential customers would get a live person to ask questions instead of having to wait for a return call from either Mark or Lily.
Lily probably wouldn't mind if he offered her a job, but on the other hand, he didn't know that much about the girl. He couldn't help the sense of responsibility he felt for her now. "I'll tell you what. When you feel up to it, come on down to the studio and talk to Lily. I'm sure we can work something out."
The brilliant smile returned. "Thank you so much! I'll do that. I'm getting out of here later today and I'll come by first thing in the morning."
Mark chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Great! Lily usually gets there around ten. I'll let her know you're coming by."
"You offered her a job?" Lily stood in the doorway of his kitchen, her expression bordering on annoyed.
Mark poured coffee for each of them. He handed Lily hers and took a sip of his own before answering, "Not exactly. I just said she should come by and talk to you." Placing his mug on the counter, he rummaged in his fridge looking for something to eat and had to settle for an apple and yogurt. Everything else was spoiled or a condiment. Someday soon he'd have to do some shopping and buy some real food. He thought about ordering a pizza a little later.
"I don't know, Mark. She seems to have an awful lot of baggage."
Speaking around a mouthful of apple, Mark defended his offer. "Aw, c'mon Lily. She's practically a kid. A desperate kid." He gathered his meager meal and went to the sofa and sat gingerly, a sigh escaping. It would be a miracle if he managed to stay awake long enough to wait for a pizza delivery.
"I know, it's just that all that cult stuff makes me nervous." Lily followed him and took a seat on the chair beside the couch. "What kind of monsters would do that to a woman?"
"Sick twisted ones, that's for sure, but Judy insisted that they weren't a cult." Mark downed the yogurt in record time and polished off the rest of the apple, sticking the core in the empty yogurt cup. He thought about going around the corner to the hot dog place to get something more substantial, but hated to risk seeing any more media. The horde had continued hanging out front and he had no idea what they hoped to learn by loitering. The most tantalizing tidbit would be what he preferred on his pizza.
Lily's brow furrowed. "How could she say that? Normal people don't treat someone that way."
Mark leaned back into the sofa, stifling a groan. His back had stiffened already. "I don't know. Could be she's embarrassed that she ever became involved with them."
"I suppose."
They fell silent for several minutes, and Mark almost dozed off when Lily broke the silence. "Hey, how did it go with the little boy today? I'm assuming you were there in time?"
Rubbing his eyes, he nodded. "Yeah. Just barely. The little guy landed like a sack of potatoes right in my arms."
"So he was okay?"
"Oh, sure. Shaken up a bit, but fine." Mark touched the back of his head, feeling a raised swelling where he'd thumped against the pavement. It was tender, but the ibuprofen he'd taken earlier had helped with the headache.
Her eyes narrowed as she watched him. "And you? Did you get hurt?"
Mark shot her a look. "Not really. Just a little sore. But…the parents recognized me from the Tribune article."
"Yikes. What did they say?"
"Actually, they were surprisingly calm about it all. The dad heard me call the little boy's name before the kid fell, and questioned how I knew his son's name." Mark paused, feeling a lump rise in his throat as he remembered his near breakdown. "I…ah…" He swallowed the catch in his voice. "I finally said I just knew." Mark tried to chuckle but the sound, when it finally squeezed past the lump, was harsh. "Pretty quick thinking on my part, don't ya think?"
Lily sat forward and put her hand on his knee, giving it a slight squeeze. "Mark, are you all right?"
Leaning into the corner of the sofa, he stretched his arms over the rear and side and let his head fall back against the top. He didn't answer for a long time. When he finally did, his confusion and anger escaped. "Why is this happening, Lily? What's the point? I have this camera that has some spooky power from…God only knows where… and I try to do my best, but it seems like every time I turn around, some one is…is throwing marbles in my path."
"I don't know why that reporter decided to write an article. She was probably just looking for a story and your name popped up." She shook his leg. "Listen to me, Mark. I know everything happens for a reason. God doesn't do things on a whim, without a plan. He just doesn't. There's a purpose for all of this."
Mark rolled his head to look at his friend; amazed to hear Thomas's dad's words coming from Lily. He narrowed his eyes. "Did Scott Palmer call you today or something?"
Lily straightened and pulled her hand away, her expression confused. "Who?"
Shaking his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Thomas's dad. The kid I caught today. His dad's name is Scott Palmer, and he said the very same thing to me over lunch. He said I should listen to you."
Her shoulders went back, and she beamed. "I've never spoken to him, but I can tell he's a very wise man."
He laughed. "Of course he is."
Lily chuckled, but then turned serious. "Have you ever tried asking God what his plan is for you?"
Mark squirmed on the couch, then sat forward. With a drawn out sigh, he rubbed his hand over his face before resting his forearms across his knees. "How am I supposed to do that, huh? It's not like I can just call him on the phone or…or send him an email. I can ask it in my head but…God's not there…he's…I don't know where the hell he is…"
He stood and stalked to the window, bracing his arms on either side of it. Maybe if he just looked really hard, he'd see God down there strolling the streets of Chicago.
Why couldn't he feel the same sense of certainty that Lily felt? She just seemed to know. He thought of the Tribune article that suggested that he, Mark Taylor, might be the second coming. His mouth twisted ruefully. Even thinking something like that made him feel uncomfortable. If only they knew. Not only was he a far, far cry from the second coming of Jesus, but, he wasn't sure he even believed in God.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kern motioned to the chair opposite his desk. "Please, have a seat, Judy."
The young woman scuttled from the door to the chair and sat with her hands clasped, head bowed. A large bruise marked her pale neck. Was she trembling?
He'd made sure to send the most nurturing member in the Guild, Claire, to pick Judy up from the hospital this morning. His instructions were to act as if it had been the plan all along for Judy to escape from the ceremony. Not only had he advised Claire to be comforting and supportive, but gave her money to buy a complete outfit for the poor girl.
"Have you recovered from your unfortunate ordeal the other night?" The concern he poured into his voice did the trick. Judy looked at him, her eyes brimming.
She nodded.
"Do you understand why the unpleasantness had to happen?"