“Like old times, eh?” Annie said, linking her arm with Myra’s just as Charles rolled up in the farm’s old, rusty pickup. Fergus lowered the tailgate, and the dogs leapt up and started to bark. Translation: an adventure was about to unfold.
Chapter 7
Kathryn Lucas almost lost her balance on the escalator as she whirled around at the sound of her name being called. She spotted Alexis Thorne, who was almost at the bottom of the down escalator. “Alexis!” She stepped off and waited while Alexis headed her way.
The two women hugged, as they always did, and immediately started to jabber. They were in Neiman Marcus at the Galleria. Alexis suggested a restaurant where they could go for coffee.
“It’s past lunchtime, so we won’t have to wait for a table. I haven’t had any lunch, and we can grab a sandwich.” Kathryn readily agreed, as she, too, had skipped lunch.
“The stores are already decorated,” Kathryn said in awe as the two friends walked along.
“Where have you been, Kathryn? The stores have been decorated since Halloween. Oh, I forgot, you are the queen of catalog shoppers. So what are you doing here?”
“Believe it or not, looking for a Christmas present for Bert. I thought I’d get an early start because he is heading to Macao to check out the new casino that Annie opened in China. He’s going to be there the whole month of December.”
Alexis and Kathryn walked into the restaurant and the hostess immediately seated the two women and handed them a menu.
Kathryn shrugged. “Bert’s married to the casino business. Cosmo Cricket is going with him. That means Lizzie and Little Jack are coming east for the holidays and staying with Myra. She’s happy about it. Myra, that is.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Kathryn. Are you okay with Bert going over there for a whole month?”
“Yes and no. I’m staying here in my little house. I have Murphy with me, so I won’t be alone. Bert did ask me to go with him, but I said no. I said no mainly because of Maggie, but I’ve really had enough of Vegas for a while. It gets to you after you’ve been there too long. I want to help Maggie, if it’s possible. Damn, I had no idea everyone was jumping the gun this early for the holiday season. Meaning the stores, the merchandise, all that, plus Christmas music, and it isn’t even Thanksgiving. It’s kind of disconcerting. Heck, if they don’t even wait for Thanksgiving anymore, why not start right after Labor Day? How about the Fourth of July? Let’s just have Christmas all year long.”
Alexis laughed. “They started early because all those doom-and-gloom financial pundits are predicting a slim shopping season given the poor economy. The retailers want to get the most they can get out of the season. They said Halloween sales were a bust, so they rushed right into Christmas. Everyone in my opinion has lost sight of the true meaning of Christmas. It’s just a money thing these days.”
Kathryn thought about the cashmere sweater she was going to buy Bert. Mentally, she scaled the sweater down to a tie and matching socks. She felt relieved at her decision.
“I talked to Nikki last night, and she told me that she and Jack are cooking this Thanksgiving. She said she didn’t tell Charles yet, but oh, too bad. She’s going to call everyone today to invite them. They both want to christen their new home. They positively adore it, by the way.”
“I bet they do. All that room. All those dogs. Makes for happiness,” Kathryn said.
“Speaking of doom and gloom, you don’t exactly look like a happy camper, Kathryn. Why is that?”
“Part of it is Maggie and how desperate she is to find her old teacher. Then there is my leg. The doctors told me I’d be able to drive my truck the first of the year, but it’s simply not true. I still need a boatload of therapy. That in itself is depressing. On top of that is Bert’s and my inability to commit to marriage. There’s a strain between us that both of us pretend isn’t there. I don’t like living year-round in Las Vegas, and he loves it. And Christmas is sneaking up on me faster than I would like. It’s me. I know that. I have to change my attitude. I will, but I don’t know when that will be. Enough about me. What are you doing here? You don’t like to shop any more than I do, so what’s up?”
Alexis winced. She sat back so the waiter could place the sandwich plate in front of her. When he was gone, she asked, “What do you buy your prospective mother-in-law who doesn’t like you because you are black and are marrying her son? Ah, I can see you are as stymied as I am.”
Kathryn blinked. “How do you know she doesn’t like you?”
“Kathryn, I can tell. She’s a sweet lady, and Joseph is the apple of her eye. She wanted him to marry a nice Spanish girl who would produce a lot of babies. I don’t quite fit that mold. I do a lot of pretending, but it’s starting to get to me. Joseph is oblivious, and you know how he loves and adores his mother, his whole family.”
“You aren’t marrying the whole family, damn it. You’re marrying Joseph.”
“Now, you see, that’s where you are wrong. I will be marrying the whole family. That’s how it works. I turned myself inside out to be nice to them, to go the extra mile. She’s aloof, pleasant, but she has never smiled at me. Not once. She’s nervous around me. Joseph said it’s because I’m a lawyer. She is in awe of me. I’m not buying it. She just doesn’t like me. What does my being a lawyer have to do with marrying her son? Nothing, that’s what.”
“So what are you going to do?” Kathryn asked as she bit into her sandwich.
“I’m going home, and I’m going to decorate my house. That’s what I’m going to do. Maybe that will help. Nikki and Jack went out today to cut down a real, live tree. We’ve all got Maggieitis. And before you can ask, no, the Valentine’s Day wedding is probably not going to happen. Now, let’s talk about Maggie. You got any ideas?”
Kathryn leaned across the table. “You know what, Alexis? I do have an idea. I was going to call you later, and Isabelle, too, to see what you thought. I tried to put myself in Miss Roland’s shoes. You know what I would have done? I would have gone to some church, whatever her faith was, and asked for help.
“The minute Maggie shared her story with me, I had this strange feeling that I knew something that could help her. I just couldn’t nail it down. It was just a flash of something. Then, this morning, I remembered what it was. I used to deliver to the Home Depot in the Fayetteville area. I remember a delivery I made years ago. While my truck was being unloaded, I passed the time by walking around the garden center. At the far end you could see the buildings across the road. The biggest sign to be seen was THE GUARDIAN ANGELS MISSION. A storefront kind of place.
“I struck up a conversation with one of the workers who was watering the plants, and she said the place was wonderful and was run by some ex-military guy from Fort Bragg. I can’t be sure, but I think she said he was a chaplain. She said that they donated plants to them and that in the back he had a massive garden, which his flock tended. She gave me the lowdown, but at the time it was just conversation, and I didn’t pay all that much attention. I do remember that she said the guy never turned anyone away. No matter what, he’d find room for one more lost soul. They exist mainly on donations. Restaurants donate leftover food. That kind of thing. They feed the homeless three times a day.”
Alexis reared up. “And you think maybe that’s where Alma Roland might have gone, right?”
“Yeah. Wanna take a ride there tomorrow? Or we could fly up in the morning and come back the same night. I think Isabelle is free, so she could go with us.”
“Why aren’t we telling the others?” Alexis asked.
“In case I’m wrong. No sense getting everyone’s hopes up, in case I’m way off base here. Especially Maggie. Oh, Alexis, think about it. What if I’m right, and we actually find the elusive Miss Roland?”
Alexis pushed her plate away and motioned the waiter for a coffee refill. “Count me in. Send Isabelle a text. You better explain the secrecy part. I’ll check with the airlines. I’m not in favor of a long car ride. The earliest flight
they have, right?”
Kathryn nodded as she sent out a text to Isabelle.
Isabelle’s return text arrived at the same time the restaurant’s complimentary brownie arrived, along with their coffee refills. “She said she’s in, too.”
Alexis drove around the block three times before she was able to park her rental car. Alexis, Kathryn, and Isabelle climbed out of the car and headed toward the entrance to a storefront. It was cold, and a light snow was falling. The women shivered as they picked up their pace.
At the entrance, Kathryn turned and said, “Look across the road, at the far east end. That’s where I was standing. Now look up at the sign. It’s weathered since then, but you can’t miss it.”
Isabelle and Alexis nodded. They stepped to the side to allow Kathryn to open the door. A bell tinkled, a pleasant sound.
It was warm inside, and the enticing scent of something cooking permeated the air.
“Chicken soup,” Alexis said.
“Vanilla. Either chocolate cake or chocolate pudding,” Isabelle said.
“The Christmas tree is up and decorated,” Kathryn said, sniffing as she pointed to a corner of the big room they were standing in. There was a long table where six men were playing chess. Next to their table, another table was set up with easels, and three women were splashing paint on different canvases. Another group sat by the fire blazing at the end of the room. A stack of wood that reached almost to the ceiling guaranteed that the warmth would last as long as it was needed. The sound of someone playing a piano somewhere out of sight could be heard.
Alexis whirled around at the same time Isabelle did and said, “We don’t have a story, an explanation as to why we’re here,” they both hissed at the same time.
All three women spun around when they heard someone ask if he could help them. The voice belonged to a tall, gray-haired man wearing a religious collar. “Pastor Tennyson. Can I help you?”
Kathryn’s brain raced. She held out her hand. “Kathryn Lucas. This is Alexis Thorne, and this is Isabelle Tookus. Ah . . . I think it’s the other way around. We want to know if we can help you. Um . . . we belong to an organization that . . . that takes on a cause, and your . . . ah . . . mission came to our attention. We’d like to help. It is the Christmas season, you know,” she said, finishing lamely.
“Well, look around, ladies. I’m not proud. I never turn down an offer of help. Would you like to stay for lunch? Chicken noodle soup with real chicken, thanks to the Chicken Emporium. Homemade bread made by these hands,” Pastor Tennyson said, holding up his hands. “And chocolate pudding for dessert, thanks to Coburg Dairy, which provided the milk to make the pudding.”
“That’s very kind of you, but we don’t want to impose,” Alexis said.
“No such thing. Anyone who walks through these doors is welcome. This will be my thirtieth year at Guardian Angels. I hope I can be here for another thirty years. So, you’ll stay?”
The girls nodded.
“Can we help?” Isabelle asked.
“I never refuse help. My wife is home with a bad case of bronchitis, so I’m here alone today. It’s not a problem. My people are patient, and sometimes, they even help. Come along, ladies. We can talk as we ready the tables. We still have an hour till my flock arrives for lunch, and you can tell me about the organization you represent.”
Kathryn was quick on the uptake this time. “Of course, but turnaround is fair play, so we want to know how you came to be here and why.”
“Deal,” Pastor Tennyson said, handing over three pristine white aprons. “We use paper tablecloths from that roll on the shelf. We use paper plates when we can to help with the cleanup. Everyone has to wash up first, and then we say grace and our guests get in line. We encourage everyone to eat as much as they want and to not go hungry. Mostly, they oblige. Then they come back to sleep here if they have nowhere else to go. My wife and I are proud of the fact that we’ve never turned a soul away. They might have to sleep on the floor, but they’re warm and safe inside these doors.”
The girls had golf ball–sized lumps in their throats as they listened to Pastor Tennyson. If Kathryn’s guess turned out to be wrong, and Alma Roland wasn’t here, this was going to be Annie de Silva’s next project.
“And you and your wife do this alone? That’s a tremendous undertaking. I don’t think I know anyone who could do what you’re doing,” Alexis said.
“Of course you could. If the need is there, a soul can do whatever it takes. My wife walked through those doors many, many years ago. I could see by the look on her face that she was at the end of her rope. She never left, and within a year, we got married.
“You hear a lot today about movie stars and the like saying they have finally met their sixth or seventh soul mate. Those people do not know the meaning of those words. My wife is my soul mate in every sense of the word. I would have closed up shop a long time ago if it weren’t for her.”
Kathryn felt light-headed at what she was hearing. It had to be Alma Roland he was talking about. Still, she wasn’t ready to ask the pastor for his wife’s name.
“Tell me about your organization, ladies,” the pastor said as he handed out plastic silverware and hard plastic throwaway bowls.
Alexis took the floor. “I’m a lawyer, Pastor Tennyson. I do a lot of the legal work for what has to remain an anonymous benefactor. It’s not exactly a charitable organization. She relies on our recommendations. So, if you could tell me what your wish list is, we’ll try to accommodate you.”
“A wish list, is it? Lord, have mercy, ladies. It’s endless. I’m not greedy. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give us, and I’ll pray for you all night and day, as will my wife.”
“Still, everyone has a wish list. What would make this place better than it is?” Isabelle asked. “Or if we were to ask your wife, what would she say? Is it possible her wants would be different than yours?”
Pastor Tennyson laughed. “Alma would ask for one of those industrial bread-making machines. The oven on our stove is about gone. She’d ask for one or two of those extra big washing machines.”
Kathryn swayed dizzily. She risked a glance at Alexis and Isabelle, who looked exactly like she felt.
“We need more cots, more blankets, a deep freezer. Sometimes we get too much food, and if we don’t cook it right away, we have to discard it. As I said, the list is endless. We pride ourselves, Alma and I, on how clean we keep this place. Detergent is very expensive, and not many people donate cleaning supplies. Suddenly, I am feeling very selfish here. But you did ask.” Pastor Tennyson grinned.
Kathryn smiled. “That we did. And we can guarantee it all. Do us all a favor, Pastor, and call your wife and ask her now. I’d like to take a full list back with us. Please tell her not to be shy about what you all need or want. Whatever it takes to make this place even better. Can you do that?”
“Of course I can. The phone’s in my office.” Pastor Tennyson eyed the clock. “Set the table, ladies. Condiments are on trays, and there are two to a table. Bread is to be sliced, and the butter isn’t butter but margarine, and it’s in the fridge, which is also on its last legs.”
The minute the pastor was out of sight, the threesome hugged and did a jig.
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God, we actually found her. Kathryn, thank God for your memory. Maggie is absolutely going to go over the moon when we call her. We found her! We honest to God found Alma Roland!” Isabelle squealed happily.
The front door opened just as Alexis set the last bowl on the table. Since the food was served buffet style, Pastor Tennyson’s flock lined up and started to help themselves from the huge serving pots.
Pastor Tennyson motioned for the girls to come closer. He looked flustered and apologized before he even conveyed his wife’s wishes. “It would seem my wife’s list is something I never thought of. She said if we have a fairy godmother with a magic wand, then we need three new toilets. Industrial dryers to go with the industrial washers. She also said if we had an indu
strial dishwasher, we could save on all the throwaway products we have to buy if we don’t get donations. Of course, that means we would have to buy dishes and silverware. She wasn’t shy. Is it too much?” he asked anxiously. “Oh, she also said it would be nice if somehow we could get our piano tuned.”
“Consider it done, Pastor,” Kathryn said as she stepped to the end of the line. She could hardly wait to dig into the chicken soup.
An hour later, hands were shaken as the lunch guests cleaned up the tables.
The pastor smiled. “One of the rules is that it’s not totally free. You eat, you clean up.”
“We’ll be in touch. I hope your wife feels better soon,” Alexis said as she tucked her scarf inside her coat.
“Thank you for the lunch. It was delicious,” Isabelle said.
Outside in the cold November air, the women ran to the car. Once inside it, they high-fived each other and laughed until they had to hold their sides.
“We found her! Oh, Maggie is going to be so happy. What a perfect Christmas present,” Kathryn said happily. “Next stop, the airport, ladies!”
Chapter 8
Snow was falling heavily when the girls exited the airport and headed for the parking lot. They were so excited, they barely noticed.
When they finally became aware of the weather conditions, Kathryn looked around and said, “I live the closest, so let’s head for my house and have a sleepover. I’m starved, for one thing. All we had to eat today was that soup at the mission and those stale pretzels on the plane. What do you say, girls? A good old-fashioned sleepover? I have some real cozy flannel nightgowns.”
Isabelle’s head bobbed up and down as she danced from foot to foot, shivering in the frigid temperatures as Kathryn searched for her car keys.
“That works for me,” Alexis said.
Finally, with the windshield cleared and the engine running, the girls huddled, teeth chattering, as they waited for the car to heat up.
Wishes for Christmas Page 6
