Janie Face to Face

  She was sick when the cashier said how much money it would probably take to fill the tank of her big car. She was sure the man was trying to rip her off. But he turned out to be right.

  A large fraction of her cash was already gone.

  The moment she was back on the road, she forgot about cash. Driving so fast was so exciting. She would drive through the night. Her timing, of course, was superb. She would arrive with an hour or two to spare.

  The miles flew by. Each mile lifted her pulse. The hours passed like minutes.

  And soon, way too soon, the tank was empty again.

  She had always been good at math. She could divide the miles she had left to drive into the money she had left to spend. She would barely make it.

  Money!

  It always came down to money!

  How Hannah hated this society, so focused on money. As if money mattered, compared to the depth of your heart and spirit.

  That parent thief wanted all of Hannah’s money. Well, it wasn’t going to happen!

  Hannah was getting it! So there!

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Janie had crammed a year’s worth of bride activity into Friday.

  The morning had begun with Jodie and Sarah-Charlotte’s crazy bridal shower. Nobody had had time to buy anything, so there were no gifts; there was just discussion of what people would have bought if they’d had time. Jodie kept a careful list of each nonexistent present so Janie could write a prompt thank-you note.

  Next, Janie, Sarah-Charlotte, and Jodie had sped to the motel to greet all the Shields family. “Our job, Janie, is to get you in and out in one sane piece,” explained Jodie. “When people mention carloads of household hand-me-downs for you and Reeve, pretend you don’t hear.”

  That was easy. Janie didn’t hear a thing. She was deaf from the shouts and cries and laughter of this new family. So much family, multiplying, increasing, filling rooms and hearts. She could not believe how lucky she was. All these families! All hers!

  But no Reeve. The day was so strange without Reeve. She ached for him to come, to be here. All these nice people, and who cared? She wanted Reeve.

  “Time to go!” Jodie shouted finally. “Janie has a plane to meet! See you at the rehearsal tonight!”

  And then, the joy of another airport. The man she loved. And a diamond ring.

  Now on the drive home from Kennedy, her father at the wheel, Reeve sat as close to her in the backseat as the shoulder strap of their seat belts would allow. Janie kept touching the tiny glittering stone of her engagement ring, turning it inside to hug it in her palm, and turning it back out to watch it twinkle, and turning to give Reeve another kiss.

  Reeve was falling asleep.

  “Daddy?” she said.

  “Nice ring, huh?”

  “Did you know?”

  “Yup. Had to coordinate everything. Didn’t know about the pilot, though. That was a nice touch. I almost fell for it myself.”

  “Reeve is asleep.”

  “Wake him up. We’re at the church.”

  The minute she saw the church, Janie remembered music. She who loved music had not the slightest idea what, if any, music was planned for the church or the reception. She didn’t want silence! Could they still get somebody? Who?

  What a relief when a man walked up and announced that he was the organist and would run the rehearsal.

  He gathered the wedding party at the back of the church to do a walk-through without music.

  “We have three mothers,” said the organist. “Ushers will stop seating guests at two p.m. At that time, the mother of the groom will be escorted to her seat by a son. Son?”

  “Me,” yelled Todd. “I multitask. Best man, cue card holder, and mom escort.”

  “Lower your voice, Todd,” said Mrs. Shields. “We are in church.”

  “After that, one mother of the bride will be seated by a designated usher,” said the organist.

  “Me!” called Brian. “I seat Miranda.”

  How marvelous that people knew what they were doing.

  “Last person seated before the ceremony is the mother of the bride, escorted by a son.”

  “It’ll be Stephen,” said Brian, “but he isn’t here yet. Their plane lands around eleven.”

  “Brendan, you don’t get to seat anybody?” whispered Janie.

  “Everything’s cool,” he said. “I’m getting Stephen and Kathleen at the airport.”

  “That’s tonight. I was thinking of the ceremony. I wanted you to have somebody special to escort.”

  Brendan grinned and shook his head. “I’m the bouncer.”

  “Oh, you’ll be a fabulous bouncer. If the media shows up, they’ll regret it,” she said, hugging him. She was surprised by the emotion on his face. Weddings took it out of the most unexpected people.

  “With all mothers seated,” said the organist, “the ushers regroup in a room off the front of the church, which I will show you in a minute, and then the wedding march begins. The ushers, best man, and groom enter from the right to stand in a row by the altar. Let’s practice that much.”

  Mothers were escorted and seated. Ushers regrouped.

  “Next come the bridesmaids, one by one,” said the organist. “Then the maid of honor. You will line up at the opposite side of the altar from the men.”

  The bridesmaids argued about what order to march in. “I’m the maid of honor,” said Jodie. “I’ll decide. We’re going by height. Lindsay, you’re short, you’re first. Lizzie is last. How tall is Eve, Janie? And why isn’t she here?”

  “Eve will be here tomorrow. She’s just your average height, I think.” I knew two weeks ago, thought Janie. This is why brides hold their father’s arm. So they don’t tip over from too much detail.

  “Don’t walk so quickly, Lindsay!” cried Mrs. Shields. “Lizzie, slow down. Be dignified.”

  Down by the altar, Reeve’s brother and brother-in-law shoved and hooted as they took their places, holding up one sick and twisted cue card after another. Janie couldn’t help laughing. From her spot in the front pew, Mrs. Shields snapped, “This is a church! Not a bachelor party.”

  The organist hustled down the aisle to arrange all the participants in their proper spots.

  Father John appeared at Janie’s side. He said softly, “Don’t worry about a thing, Jennie. They’ll be on their best behavior at the wedding. But just to be sure, I will confiscate all cue cards.”

  She had forgotten she was Jennie.

  For a moment, in the midst of a noisy crazy crush of people who loved her, she was afraid. Who in the world was Jennie?

  She almost said to Father John, “Forget it. Skip the Jennie thing. I don’t even know a girl named Jennie.”

  “Bride!” yelled the organist.

  How long had she been standing there, wondering who Jennie was? How long had her father Jonathan been grinning at her, and waiting, while her father Frank sat smiling to himself in his wheelchair?

  Reeve was laughing, jumping up and down semaphore-style, signaling where she should land.

  “Reeve!” said his mother. “Behave yourself!”

  When the rehearsal ended, they had the rehearsal dinner. It was chaotic and crazy, like everything else. And like everything else, somebody other than Janie had planned it. Or not planned it, in Mrs. Shields’s view.

  Reeve was awake through the entrée and then he crashed. His brother, friends, and brother-in-law hauled him off to the hotel, where Janie hoped he would be allowed to sleep, while the girls hauled Janie back to the Springs’ house, where nobody had the slightest intention of sleeping.

  The slumber party lasted most of the night. Kathleen didn’t even get introduced until after midnight. Somewhere around one or two, Janie fell asleep on an air mattress. She woke up to find sunlight streaming through the window. Sheets and pillows covered the floor, but she was the only person in the room. She grabbed her cell phone to check the time. It was eleven in the morning! Her wedding was only three hours away!
r />   She should have been up at dawn!

  She raced down the stairs and found all the girls in the family room in various stages of undress. “What were you going to do?” she shrieked. “Have the wedding without me?”

  “Good morning, darling,” said her mother, giving her a hug and a kiss. “There’s plenty of time and you needed the rest.”

  “But Mom, I have only one wedding day, and I lost hours of it!”

  “Those early hours don’t count.” Her mother hugged her again, and Janie was stabbed through the heart. What about her other mother? Miranda was sitting in a hotel, staring at furniture or a ruined husband, waiting in silence and sorrow.

  Oh, Mom! thought Janie. Oh, my poor mother. I should be with you. Or you should be here.

  But no. Her real mother was the mother of the bride.

  I still don’t know, thought Janie. After all this time, I still don’t know who my real mother is. How can Miranda know?

  Janie had a horrifying icy thought that she had not had in all these years. She and Hannah had had the same parents. That made them sisters.

  No, she told herself. I will not think about Hannah today.

  Jodie, hair wrapped in a towel turban, smiled at her. “Don’t worry, Janie. Everything’s falling into place. Go shower and then we’ll get your hair done.”

  “We’re going to a salon?”

  “No, the salon came here. Lizzie and Lindsay have already had their hair done. Sarah-Charlotte is next. We don’t know what to do about Eve. She hasn’t called and isn’t here.”

  Janie could not worry about Eve, who would do the best she could. Janie asked the only really important thing. “Has Reeve called?”

  “A hundred times. He’s already dressed and ready to go to the church and his brother is tying him to a chair because they can’t leave for two and a half hours.”

  Janie lifted her cell phone.

  Everybody gave Janie a threatening look. “You can’t talk to him!” yelled Jodie. “The bride doesn’t talk to the groom or see him on her wedding day until she starts down the aisle!”

  “Oh,” she said. “Then I’ll take my shower and get in line for hair.” She ran back upstairs and texted Reeve instead.

  Hi. You ready?

  Beyond ready. You?

  Beyond ready too.

  At one o’clock, Brendan and Brian went to get Mr. and Mrs. Johnson at the hotel where they were staying.

  Brendan was surprised to see Nicole’s cousin Vic hanging out with the Johnsons, laughing and telling stories. He had known Vic slightly when Vic was a tough teenager who wore grunge clothes. He’d seen Vic a few times in his army uniform and later his police uniform. He had certainly never seen Vic in a suit and tie. “Hey, Vic. What are you doing here?”

  “Just pitching in. Your mom called for reinforcements from every corner of New Jersey to achieve wedding perfection in ten days.”

  Brendan and Brian had just been killing time, trying to avoid or admire a bevy of half-dressed girls who had taken over the house. How come Mom hadn’t asked them to pitch in? Especially Brian, who loved Frank and Miranda? “You coming to the wedding, Vic?” asked Brendan.

  “Yup. You got room for me in the car?”

  “It’ll be tight,” said Brendan. Why was Vic, as remote an acquaintance as the family had, invited to the wedding? He and Brian tucked Mrs. Johnson in front, got Mr. Johnson into the van, and then the wheelchair, and Brian and Vic wedged themselves in back while Brendan drove.

  At the church, Brian took charge of Frank, handling him as well as any medic, keeping the extra parents of the bride happy.

  Brendan said to Vic, “And? You’re here because?”

  “Everything kind of moved up a level last night,” said Vic. “A few days ago, a woman in Boulder, Colorado, gets knifed several times. At the hospital, she keeps losing consciousness. She finally tells a cop that a woman she knew as Jill Williams stabbed her, but that Jill Williams’s real name is Hannah Javensen. The cop has never heard of Hannah Javensen and doesn’t react. The police go to the address of the Jill Williams person. Place isn’t rented in that name and nobody’s home. They get fingerprints, though, and catch on to the big picture. But Hannah Javensen doesn’t come back to her apartment. They get into the apartment. Last thing the Javensen woman does on her computer is print out a map to this church. They figure Hannah Javensen, now wanted for attempted murder as well as kidnapping, is on her way here.”

  At one-twenty, at the Springs’ house, everybody piled into cars, vans, and limousines. Everybody was on the phone. Everybody who wasn’t coming—and everybody who was—wanted constant updates and videos and photographs. Friends all over the country were texting.

  The second limousine held Janie, Jodie, Sarah-Charlotte, and Lizzie. It was just leaving the driveway when a little red car came skidding in, and Eve leapt out. “Bad traffic!” she yelled.

  “I’ve got your dress!” yelled Jodie. “Just get in the limo with us!”

  “I’m wearing shorts!” yelled Eve. “I need to clean up. I need makeup. I need a hairdresser. I want my nails done.”

  “This is what happens when you have a wedding without a plan,” said Lizzie severely.

  “No,” said Eve, scrunching in. “This is what happens when you have the wedding in New Jersey and there’s an accident on the turnpike. Hi, Jane. Happy wedding day, you beautiful bride you. Whoa, this is a big vehicle. There’s enough room in this thing for me to use it as a dressing room. Hi, Jodie.”

  “Peel off the shirt, Eve. I’ve got wipeys, you can scrub yourself one square at a time.”

  “Makeup?” asked Eve.

  “Makeup,” agreed Sarah-Charlotte, waving an Estée Lauder bag.

  “Shoes?” asked Eve.

  “You were supposed to bring your own!”

  “I was teasing. I have my shoes. We’re all wearing white satin slippers, right?”

  One bride, one maid of honor, and two bridesmaids stuck out their feet.

  White satin slippers.

  Jennie, Janie said to herself. My name is Jennie. I, Jennie, take thee, Reeve.

  Brendan and Vic stood on the grass between the church and the parking lot.

  A stream of wedding guests stopped to tell Brendan how terrific he looked in his tuxedo.

  “Thanks,” he repeated over and over. “Great to see you. Welcome.” To Vic he said, “Who else knows?”

  “Your father and Father John. Plenty of police here. They are extra guests, parking lot attendants, and even a priest.”

  Brendan had never thought of his sister’s kidnapping as a violent crime. No blood had been spilled. There had not even been a bruise. But of course kidnapping was violent. A kidnapper was a raptor, a predator.

  “Is it in the news yet?”

  “No, but reporters in Boulder will figure it out soon.”

  “My sister, my mother, and Miranda Johnson need to have this wedding. It has to be safe and happy. It can’t have Hannah in it. It can’t have arrests and chases and guns and media.”

  Vic nodded. “We’ll prevent that part. As for people finding out and spreading the news, see Father John greeting everybody at the door? He’s requiring everybody to turn their cells off the minute they step inside the church. People are a little irked, especially the ones who wanted to take photos and videos, but he’s a priest and they’re doing it. So far, anyway. If people turn on their cells later, it’ll probably be for photos. The wedding should be okay. Reception, maybe not.”

  Todd opened the limousine door and helped Janie out. Sarah-Charlotte fluffed Janie’s skirt and Jodie adjusted Janie’s tulle and Eve said, “Don’t get grass stains on your slippers!”

  “Is Reeve here yet?” Janie asked Todd.

  “You kidding me? We got here before the priest. You have the most eager groom in history. Me—I was scared to come to my wedding. I cut it pretty fine.” He grinned at Lindsay and tenderly helped his wife out of the limo, and Janie suddenly realized that although Lindsay had gained
weight, it wasn’t fat. Lindsay and Todd were going to have a baby.

  Life was so wonderful.

  Janie was beyond happy.

  Next, Lizzie’s husband, whom Janie barely knew, helped her out. Marriage to Lizzie would be demanding. Janie wondered if marriage to her would be demanding. She thought of herself as so reasonable and pleasant. But she hadn’t been easy for the Springs. And she had abandoned her mother, her other mother, for the whole weekend.

  A wide portico with slender columns marked the front entrance to the church. On either side were fat holly bushes, green and prickly, rimmed with hundreds of daylilies in buttery yellow. Sarah-Charlotte gathered the bridal party and photographed them against the green and gold.

  The vans from Connecticut had been here for hours. The guys were mostly hanging out with Reeve in some back room in the church. The girls stood on the portico with Janie and Sarah-Charlotte, introducing themselves to the other bridesmaids. Everybody talked as if they’d known each other for years.

  The ushers were seating the ladies while the husbands walked slowly in their wake. The ushers weren’t bothering with groom’s side or bride’s side. They were just packing them in. There was going to be a serious crowd.

  There were ushers Janie didn’t even know! It struck her as wildly funny.

  And then she did know one of them.

  Agent Mollison.

  Whom she had seen once, when she was fifteen; when she was first reunited with her family. From whom Janie had hidden her face. And then her dad had thrown him out.

  She had known from the moment Reeve put everything on Facebook that there was risk. She had never displayed herself anywhere; never gave the girl named Janie Johnson a stage or a page. The sense of her kidnapper hovering in the wings, waiting for another chance to enter Janie’s life, had never entirely left Janie. Reeve and Adair and Sarah-Charlotte and all the others exhibited their hundreds of friends and photographs and posts, but not Janie. She saw that as a threat, a door to her past creaking open, beckoning to Hannah.

  Apparently, the FBI agreed.