Joey Hill is an ordinary-looking guy with a wispy moustache and a wide smile. He jokes that people expect him to be bigger, to fit his nose.
Joey was a popular radio personality on Canada’s West Coast until a very public disgrace cost him his job, his relationships and his freedom. He’d tell you the one good thing about losing everything is that he found Jesus. Or Jesus found him.
Now he’s starting over in a new city, hosting a late-night all-request oldies radio show. And lucky to have a job in the field he loves. The hours are terrible, the pay is worse.
Next to the music, his callers are the best part of the job. Mostly they chat about sports scores, movies, singers and songs. But something about the faceless contact with a friendly voice lets some of the regulars open up to him. That’s when Joey feels they cross the divide from acquaintances to friends—even if he’d never recognize them on the sidewalk.
Those calls are where he tries to make a difference, by his words or with a listening ear, and with a little prayer after he says goodbye.
He’s never felt driven to actually meet a radio friend before, but there’s this one woman, Carol. Joey can’t get her out of his mind. From the little she’s shared, he knows there’s a lot of pain in her past.
She sounds like she could use a friend. Carol’s very private, though, almost paranoid. She’d never agree to meet him in person.
When an opportunity to meet her drops into Joey’s lap, he takes it. Just to be a friend. Until he figures out how to do life as a man of faith, he doesn’t dare complicate it with a relationship. The protective surge he gets when he’s talking to her? Friends are protective. That’s all it is. Really.