“Our new driver is supposed to come to the stateroom and get our bags. I’ll assess him and determine if he is acceptable by thetime we reach your grandmother’s.” Melanie had become much more direct and protective as they’d journeyed.
It reminded Chaisley of the years before Melanie’s mother died. Melanie had been quite the force to be reckoned with back then. After her mother was gone, though, it was a different story. So to hear confidence back in her voice now was more than encouraging.
Perhaps this journey was giving her friend a new purpose as well.
Purpose.The word washed over her, leaving renewed resolve in its wake. Her thoughts hadn’t stopped spinning in the last week and a half with partially formed plans and ideas that led to more ideas.
And then she remembered Dr. G’s contact list.
At first, Chaisley feared what might arise to put them in a position toneedthe list, but now? Giving hope to those suffering overpowered her fears. More than anything, she wanted to give hope to Mary Beth and Geraldine. There had to be more like them as well.
Using music to inspire and lift spirits was a gift. Twelve new pieces written in musical braille sat in her music folder, their themes all reflecting brighter futures.
Hope.
She ran her fingers over the buttons of her dress, smoothing the fabric.
This tour would be different.Shewould be different. Ready to do anything within her power to help those in dire straits.
Exactly what God was calling her to do wasn’t clear. Yet. But she was back in the Bible, praying, and seeking Him. And in time, she would talk to Melanie about all her ideas. She needed a bit more time to think through details.
A knock sounded at the door, and she turned her face in that direction.
“Come in.”
Melanie’s take-charge tone almost made Chaisley giggle. She lifted a hand to her mouth and covered her mirth.
The door creaked open.
“Ik ben de chauffeur van mevrouw Frappier.” The male voice was a bit hesitant. Was the man nervous?
“This is Miss Frappier. I am her assistant, Miss Brigman,” Melanie replied in perfect Dutch.
“Friederich Zimmerman.”
The slight rustle of something—his uniform? He must have bowed.
“But I prefer to go by Rick.”
Chaisley raised a brow. A bit too familiar for a driver, but she didn’t have the opportunity to comment as Melanie continued her inquisition.
“Do you speak other languages, Mr. Zimmerman?”
“German, Miss, if that is more comfortable?” The man’s soft voice held kindness. Humility.
Chaisley liked it, which made her like the man. So far. A lot could be heard in the intonations of a person’s voice.
“We can do either. Do you speak English as well?” Melanie continued, her tone no-nonsense.
“Very little.”
Chaisley restrained a frown. His response was ... different. Was he embarrassed that he didn’t speak much English, or was it something else? She’d have to hear him speak a bit more to ascertain what she’d picked up.
Chaisley stood and turned her face toward the sound of his voice. “It is a pleasure to have you as our driver.”
His shoes shuffled a bit on the floor. “It is my honor.”
Had he noticed anything? “I guess we should be off. My grandmother will be anxious to see us.” Andshe’dcounted down the hours until she could hug her grandmother again.
