And then I began my search for Annie in earnest. The vantage point I had was perfect, as I had suspected. The lights from the stage lit up the faces of those on the dance floor.
When the band began to play “It Had to Be You,” I didn’t feel nervous. The lyrics slipped out effortlessly. I had come a long way since the Dingo Bar in Paris. I no longer worried about what people thought about my singing and simply enjoyed the song.
As I scanned the dancers’ faces, most of them paused to listen and watch.
A woman at the back of the dance floor shifted, allowing me to see her clearly. I almost tripped over my words as I continued to sing. She had dark hair and eyes, and she looked like an older version of me. She was standing next to a man, but I barely glanced at him, since I was so intent upon studying the woman.
She was looking back at me, but if she recognized me, she didn’t show any indication. Though why would she? If it was Annie, she would have no idea that she had a time-crossing daughter occupying the same life as her.
My heart beat so hard, I struggled to breathe. The ballroom filled with applause as I finished, and when the band leader asked me for an encore, I had to refuse. I had completed the task, and I needed to speak to the woman I suspected was Annie.
As I stepped off the stage, Lewis was waiting for me.
“What are you doing?” he asked quietly. “Do you want everyone in here to recognize you?”
“I saw her,” I said, trying to look over his shoulder. “She’s at the back of the room.” I started moving in that direction.
People tried to stop me and compliment my singing. I didn’t want to be rude, so I thanked them and kept moving deeper into the crowd.
The band began another song, and people started to dance again.
When I got to the back of the dance floor, where I had seen Annie, she was gone.
Disappointment and despair gripped me as I frantically searched for her.
Lewis stayed close to me as we walked around the huge room. Some of the men sitting in dark corners looked dangerous, and I stayed clear of them. Smoke curled around several tables, choking me. I couldn’t imagine what my parents would say if they smelled cigarette smoke on Irene and me.
Annie wasn’t at any of the tables, at the bar, or even in line for the ladies’ room.
Finally, Lewis grabbed my hand, causing me to stop.
“I think you lost her,” he said.
“She couldn’t have gone far.” I tried pulling my hand away to keep looking, but he wouldn’t let me go.
“I’ll ask around,” he said, drawing me closer to him. “Maybe someone talked to her and knows where she’s staying.”
Tears of disappointment threatened as I tried in vain to see her in the crowd. “I was so close.”
He put his hand under my chin to draw my gaze to his face. “I’ll find her, Carrie. I promise.”
Bitterness took hold as I wiped impatiently at a tear that fell. “Why won’t God let me talk to her?”
“Because it’s obviously not the right time. Trust His plan.”
“I want to, but I also know that He doesn’t like when we sit back and do nothing.”
He lowered his hand, his expression incredulous. “You’re not sitting back and doing nothing. You escaped a domineering grandfather to join a ship to look for her in the Caribbean. Then, you were kidnapped by pirates before you made it to Nassau where you learned she had died. After that, you risked everything to tell me the truth before traipsing across the county to a grocery store to learn that she was in Saint Paul, and you came to a ballroom, and sang on a stage, to see her in a crowd. You are doing everything you can to find Annie Barker.”
I let out a breath and shook my head. “If anyone heard you saying those things, they’d think you had lost your mind.”
His grin was wide when he said, “Chasing you as you chase her has left me feeling like that from time to time.”
I chuckled, trying not to feel so disappointed.
“Come on,” he said. “It’s been a long time since you danced with me.”
“Have I ever danced with you?”
