Head Over Heels. Gail Sattler

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      “I mean as more than just the Creator of the universe. Do you believe in God, who loves all the children He’s created, including you?”

      “Yeah.” He just hadn’t been to church lately. Actually, he hadn’t been to church for a long time. On a few occasions, he’d weakened and gone back, but he didn’t know why. Going to church or not going to church didn’t make any difference. Nothing got better, nothing changed. He’d struggled and worked hard, and he had been faithful, but God hadn’t given him any breaks in his youth, and God didn’t give him any breaks now. God made him work, and work hard for everything he had. It seemed God never considered his debt repaid.

      He cleared his throat. “Please don’t worry. I’m fine. In fact, I’m anxious to get back to work. I’m a Web designer, and I’m in the middle of designing a big interactive Web site for an important client.”

      “Oh.” She paused, then shuffled something in her hand. “It’s just that, well, the newspaper…” Her voice trailed off.

      “The newspaper?”

      “The newspaper is saying something very different than what you’re telling me right now.”

      Russ gulped. “You mean there was a reporter there?”

      Marielle nodded. “Yes. And it appears they’ve done quite a bit of research, first on the history and infrastructure of the old building, and also…on you.”

      She held the newspaper out to him, and Russ’s hand trembled as he accepted it. Was it possible the newspaper knew more about what had happened than he did?

      Chapter Two

      Marielle watched Russ’s eyes widen, then squeeze shut after he read the front-page headline: Near Death at Downtown Office.

      “I don’t believe this….” He opened his eyes and continued reading. “I’m not nearly dead. It was only the third floor! And they’re being really vague about whether I jumped or fell. I don’t remember what happened, but I certainly didn’t jump.” He reached up to touch the bridge of his nose, but stopped when his fingers brushed the bandage. “They even quoted a few people I work with as saying they didn’t know what happened.” He lowered the paper to his lap. “In one sentence the reporter insinuated that I jumped, and then in the next says it’s unconfirmed. How can they print this?”

      Marielle looked into his face. All the training and courses she’d taken for her position as volunteer counselor at her church told her that he was sincere. He really hadn’t jumped, and she’d been worried about him for nothing. It was simply an accident.

      “Because sensationalism sells, I guess.”

      “I suppose. The truth is often boring.”

      A silence hung between them for a few minutes.

      “I guess you’re here to make arrangements for your car. I probably left a pretty big dent. May I see your estimate?”

      Marielle felt her cheeks heat up. “I haven’t got an estimate yet. I was busy last night, and I’m on my way to work right now. I actually came just to see how you were, and to return your wallet. I had better get going or I’m going to be late.”

      “Let me give you my phone number, then, and call me as soon as you know. Would you give me your phone number, too?”

      “Sure.”

      “I want you to know that if you hadn’t been there, I would have been seriously injured, maybe even permanently disabled. I know your car was damaged. I don’t want to be more of an inconvenience to you than I’ve already been. If you go to your insurance agent and this raises your rates for the next few years, I want to know, and I’d like to pay the difference.”

      Marielle stood and smiled. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”

      She turned to go, but she’d only taken one step when a man of average build and height who looked to be in his mid-forties appeared in the doorway. When he saw her standing beside the bed, he quickly turned his head to check the number on the door, then continued inside. His polite smile, easy demeanor and friendly brown eyes immediately made Marielle feel relaxed.

      When he turned to Russ his smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. “Hi, Russ. You’ve looked better.”

      “Thanks. I needed to hear that. I’ve felt better, too. Grant, this is, uh, Mary Ellen, is it?”

      “You’re close. It’s Marielle. But don’t worry about it. It happens all the time.”

      “I’m so sorry. Grant, this is Marielle, the woman whose car I landed on. Marielle, this is Grant, my boss.”

      Grant immediately grasped her hand. “I’m so glad to meet you. I asked about you when the ruckus died down, but no one knew who you were, or where you came from. You were like Cinderella, disappearing at the stroke of midnight. You were in the paper with your statement—but then things get so busy. And the calls…”

      Marielle smiled sympathetically. “I’ve had lots of questions about yesterday, too.”

      “I want to do something to make it up to you. After all, Russ is my best employee. But now that we’re face to face, I wish I knew what to suggest.”

      “I was simply put in the right place at the right time. If you have to thank someone, then thank Brittany. It was because of her that I had to park to answer my cell phone. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work. It was nice meeting you both.”

      Russ and Grant looked up at the clock on the wall. “It’s not even six o’clock,” Russ said. “You have a very early start to your day. What do you do?”

      “It’s just an office job. I work in accounting. I start at six and get off at two-thirty. But I start early because I go someplace else afterward.”

      “You mean you have a second job?”

      Marielle froze. Second job? Not anymore.

      She shuffled her purse under her arm, pretending she needed to concentrate on it so that she didn’t have to look at the two men while she spoke. “It’s not a job. I volunteer for a youth program that teaches underprivileged kids computer skills so they’ll know how to use computers for more than just memorizing the cheat codes from the latest online games.”

      Grant nodded. “Well, good luck, and it was nice meeting you. I hope we can…” Grant’s voice trailed off.

      Before Marielle could walk away, he wrapped his fingers around her arm, preventing her from leaving. “Wait. If you won’t take anything personally for what you did, can I make a donation to your organization?”

      Marielle looked up at the clock again. “That would be great. We’ve had a bunch of new members join the group. We need to get more equipment and there’s never enough money.”

      “You know, I’ve been thinking of upgrading some of my office’s computers. Instead of trading them in, how about if I donate them to your group? It sounds like you could really use them. Let me give you my card so we can set up an appointment.”

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