Missing and Endangered (Joanna Brady #19)(103)
Butch was planning on leaving early the next morning to drive Jenny and Beth back to Flagstaff. Having the girls there for Christmas had been fun, but after dealing with company for the better part of two weeks, Joanna was looking forward to having their household shrink back down to normal.
She was surprised when shortly after noon there was a tap on her doorjamb and Jenny stepped inside.
“Why, hello,” Joanna said. “Where’s everybody else?”
“It’s just me,” Jenny said. “We need to talk.”
Uh-oh, Joanna thought, isn’t this where I came in?
“What’s up?” she asked as Jenny slipped onto a chair.
“When you first got elected, I hated the fact that you were sheriff,” Jenny admitted. “For one thing, I was afraid you were going to die, just like Daddy did. I hated that you worked such long hours. It was all about catching the people who do bad things. I knew it was important, but it made me mad when you couldn’t be at school events the way other kids’ mothers were. I guess I was just jealous.”
“I’m sorry—” Joanna began, but Jenny held up a hand to stop her.
“Don’t apologize, Mom,” she said. “I’m not here asking for an apology. The last couple of weeks have been real eye-openers for me. You job is about way more than just catching bad people; it’s about helping good people, too, and about putting broken lives back together. And I want to tell you I’m proud of you.”
Not knowing what else to say, all Joanna could manage was a murmured, “Thank you.”
“That evil man almost destroyed Beth, and he might have gotten away with it if you and Robin Watkins and Adele Norris and LuAnn Maxfield and Marianne Maculyea hadn’t all worked together to help her. I want to say thank you for that, too.”
“You’re welcome,” Joanna said, but somewhere out there, just out of earshot, she was waiting for that other shoe to drop. Eventually it did as Jenny continued.
“I realized the other day that sometimes you have to walk and sometimes you have to gallop, so I’m galloping now, Mom. I haven’t told Dad this yet. I’m telling you first. You know that all my life I’ve wanted to become a vet, but I’ve changed my mind about that. When I get back to Flagstaff, I’m planning on changing my major over to criminal justice. Someday I hope to join the FBI and become an agent just like Adele Norris.”
Jenny finally ran out of steam and fell silent. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, Jenny because she’d said what she had to say and Joanna because she was torn between two diametrically opposed emotions—incredible pride and absolute dread!
“Well,” Jenny prodded finally, “aren’t you at least going to say something?”
Without a word Joanna rose from behind her desk, walked around the side of it, and then hugged her daughter for all she was worth.
“From what I’ve seen, you’ll make a great one,” Joanna said, “and I couldn’t be prouder.”