by Leah Atwood
As she wove around the rows of tables, where several families seemed to be in a hurry to finish eating, her confidence once again faltered. She checked the time. Four thirty on the button, and there was no sign of Chris anywhere. Wouldn’t it be just her luck that his group would be reliably prompt? They had probably already gone backstage.
What now? Should she just hang out and wait? She couldn’t pretend to be there to watch the tree lighting, because the entire view of the courtyard was blocked by the curtains.
As she stood there biting her lip and debating, a group of people passed by her, happily chattering among themselves. Shelby watched as a man from the group pulled back one of the curtains and held it open for the rest of them. As they passed through, she caught a glimpse of several people milling around on both sides of the windows that separated the balcony from the inside.
Of course. People were going back there because it was the best place to stand to watch the tree lighting. It shouldn’t be a big deal for her to do the same.
Hope surged. Her mental yellow light bypassed red and returned to a very festive shade of green.
She approached the break between the curtains with the confidence of someone who had just been called to the podium to accept a major award. The sureness that Chris would be there and that she would be able to carry on a conversation with poise and grace lifted her spirits. Whatever the outcome might be, she finally felt certain that the afternoon hadn’t been wasted and that she’d been on the right path all along.
Just as she was about to cross through the opening, a strong hand landed on her shoulder and stopped her in her tracks.
Letting out a little gasp, she looked up at the stern face of a man wearing a dark blue uniform and a scowl.
As he looked down at her through hooded eyes, which told her his default setting was ‘mistrust’, he spoke in a low growl. “You got a pass?”
“A pass?” Images of herself wearing an orange jumpsuit, and using her one phone call to let Kendra know she wouldn’t be in to work tomorrow, flashed through her head. “No, but I—”
“Can’t go in without a pass.” He let go of her shoulder and gave her a gentle nudge backward.
She stood there, stunned, staring at the insiders who all, she now saw, wore laminated passes around their necks and milled about eating finger foods and sipping wine. She gulped back the shame of her unintentional foray into party crashing.
Attempting to sputter out an apology, she looked up at the security guy. He folded his tree trunk arms against his ample body, narrowed his gaze, and shook his head.
Frustrated, she walked back to the seating area, which had cleared out except for a few clusters of rowdy teenagers and some solo diners. She pulled back a chair, causing its black metal legs to make an echoing screech against the tile floor. She sank into it, wanting to cry, but knowing she wouldn’t. Not in public, anyway.
In her mind, all she could see were glaring red lights that had nothing to do with the tree.
The music coming from behind the curtain swelled, and a too-loud, obviously microphone-enhanced voice welcomed the crowd.
Plunking her elbows onto the table, she covered her face with her hands. When she peered through her parted fingers, a movement caught her eye. A man hurried up the escalator, zigged between two of the kiosks, and kept moving through the maze of tables on a path that would roughly lead him right past her. She recognized him immediately. It was Jake—the guy from Impact Ministries.
Without thinking, she stood and called out a greeting. “Jake!”
His curious gaze snapped her way, and he slowed slightly, smiling in recognition.
“Oh, hey.” He veered toward her, looking anxiously toward the curtains as he pulled a pass out of his pocket and looped the cord attached to it around his neck. “You working this event too?”
“What…? Oh…no. I mean, I would, but I just—”
“Hey, thanks again for finding those bells.” Clearly having no time to listen to her babbling, he patted his messenger bag and kept moving past her. I’m giving them to Chris right now. His ladies are going to love him even more than they already do.”
Her mouth froze around whatever incoherent half thought had been about to come out of it. His…ladies?
“Five gifts for five ladies.” Jake shook his head, chuckling as he held up his pass for the security guy and kept talking over his shoulder. “Can’t risk one of them thinking he’s playing favorites or something. That guy. What a Casanova.”
Before she could respond, he disappeared through the curtains.
She let out a breath. Chris was in there, on the other side of that curtain. But so were his ‘ladies.’ All five of them.
Her eyes fell shut. In her rush to find Mr. Right, she had mistakenly honed in on Mr. ‘Casanova.’ Was she really so dense that she had to go through all of that just to learn that she had to follow God’s plan, not her own?
Whatever appeal the tree lighting held had been lost in a wave of exhaustion and disappointment. All she wanted now was to go home.
She lowered her chin, and started for the escalator.
Chapter Twelve
Chris let out a relieved breath when he saw Jake appear through the opening in the curtain. For the past ten minutes, he’d been keeping watch over the instruments while running snacks and rations of bottled water back to the dressing room. He’d also been praying that Jake would arrive before his charges started announcing their need for a pre-show bathroom run.
“Man, I’m glad to see you.” Chris held up his hand to give his friend a fist bump. “I was afraid I might have to do this all on my own.”
“No worries.” Jake set his bag down on a table and started digging around in it. “And you’ll never guess what I have.” He produced a small white bag, then presented it to him like a trophy.
“You’re kidding me.” Chris grabbed the crumpled bag and took a quick inventory of the five boxes. “Where did you find it?”
“A woman brought it in to the office. Apparently, you left it at Streebecks.” He said that last word with a raised eyebrow and a tone rich in judgment and incredulity.
A woman…Shelby? His stomach jumped to his throat. “What did she look like?” Please don’t say ‘blonde.’
Jake quirked his eyebrow. “Young. Pretty. Kind of like that girl from that movie we saw.” He snapped his fingers next to his cheek. “You know the one…”
He swallowed hard. “Victoria Justice?”
Jake pointed a finger. “Yeah.” He looked around. “Hey, where’s Tom?”
“Stuck in traffic.” Chris tossed off the answer as he tried to formulate his next question. “You said she came to our office? How did she find me?”
“I didn’t ask. But I saw her again just now out in the food court.” He jabbed a thumb toward the curtain.
“Wha….” Chris felt his head start to swim. “Why is she here?”
“I don’t know.” Jake shrugged. “Here to see the tree lighting, I guess. Hey, you need someone to take Tom’s place? She seemed interested in volunteering for us.”
“Oh man.” He shoved the bag back into Jake’s hands. “Keep an eye on things. I’ll be right back.”
By the time Shelby made it down to the first floor of the mall, her emotions had gotten the better of her, and she seriously thought she was going to lose the battle not to cry. She had acted like such an idiot and for what? Just another dead-end.
Now that most of the patrons were outside enjoying the entertainment and happily anticipating the tree lighting, the mall had cleared out significantly. She slowed as she approached the bank of glass doors, wondering if she’d even be able to make it through that mass of happy Christmas revelers.
Tears filled her eyes, and she reached up to wipe her cheeks. All she wanted was to get out of this mall and go home, where she could curl up on the couch with Gerald and pretend that none of this had happened.
She reached out for the bar on one of the doors, but something stopp
ed her from pushing it. Turning her head, she listened past the sound of the emcee outside thanking a list of sponsors. She could have sworn she’d heard another voice…someone saying her name.
She shook it off. It had probably just been some dad calling his kid. But as she gripped the bar on the door and pushed, she heard it again.
Letting the door shut, she slowly looked over her shoulder. Someone hurried toward her from across the expanse of nearly cleared-out corridor.
As she turned to face him, the air caught in her throat. Was she imagining it…or was that Chris?
Speechless disbelief swept over her as she blinked to clear her tear-blurred vision. No, she wasn’t seeing things, and she wasn’t just caught up in another one of her daydreams. This was the guy who had monopolized her thoughts for the past two days, and he was actually headed straight for her.
Jarring out of her stupor, she moved to meet him halfway. They met next to the sign with the giant pretzel on it.
A hesitant smile played on his lips, and that dimple appeared again, just like she remembered it.
But she couldn’t let that cross on his jacket fool her. Looking at those magnetic green eyes, she wanted to shout, Casanova! like that was some criminal offense that might get him hauled out to the sidewalk by mall security.
Then it hit her. He had called out to her. How did he know her name?
Her expression must have reflected her confusion, because he immediately explained. “I saw your name badge when you were at work the other night—”
“Oh.” She nodded, even though there was so much more she didn’t understand. “But…why did you…? How did you know I…?”
It came as no shock that her ability to put together a sentence had fled the scene. She stopped, mentally tossing the ball into his court while she attempted to regain some semblance of composure.
“I…just…” Oddly, he seemed to be as at a loss for words as she was. “Jake said you were here and I…I wanted to thank you.”
“Thank me?” She swallowed against the quiver in her voice.
“For returning the bells. Jake just told me you brought them. You didn’t have to do that.”
She clutched her hands in front of herself to stop them from shaking. “It was nothing.”
He smiled again, his eyes warm with sincerity. “It’s going to mean the world to the ladies I bought them for, so I appreciate getting them back.”
The ladies. Her stomach took a quick elevator ride up to her throat and plummeted back down again. But somehow the word didn’t sound as incriminating now as it had when Jake had said it. In fact coming from Chris, it almost sounded…gallant.
Not really knowing the proper response, she just stood there nodding like a bobblehead.
Obviously not too put-off by her lack of conversational contribution, Chris continued. “I know you were on your way out, but one of my volunteers didn’t show up, and Jake mentioned that you said might be interested.”
He had? She had? “Oh, I—”
“—unless you’re expected at home.”
“Expected?” She swallowed a nervous giggle. “No. I mean, my cat will be expecting to get fed, but he’ll just have to wait.”
One corner of his mouth turned upward. “You have a cat?” His eyes narrowed. “What’s his name?”
Of all the conversations she’d imagined them having, this had not made the list. “Promise not to laugh, but it’s Gerald.”
The barest hint of a smile played on his lips. “That’s a really great name for a cat.”
“Yeah.” Heat crept into her cheeks, which she hoped read as a healthy glow under the harsh mall lighting. “And I’d love to volunteer, if you really need the help.”
“Yeah. I’m going to be leading the bell choir, and Jake’s taking pictures. All I need you to do is to hold on to whatever personal belongings they don’t want to leave in the dressing room.”
She nodded. That sounded easy enough.
“Great.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pass just like the one he wore around his neck. As she took it from him, their hands touched and for a moment neither of them moved. Her breath held, as an unseen current propelled her heart into a raging gallop. She lifted her gaze to his, and felt herself getting irretrievably lost in those mistletoe-green eyes.
All of a sudden, a cheer went up from the crowd outside, followed by what sounded like live Christmas music.
Jerking to attention, Chris let go of the pass. “The show’s starting. That means we’re up in about fifteen minutes.”
He tipped his head in the direction of the escalators, and they both took off at a near run.
Chapter Thirteen
A few minutes later, Shelby followed Chris past the table where she’d been sitting by herself just a few minutes earlier. She fluttered her pass at the security guy, which won her a satisfying grunt and a wave of his beefy hand.
The inner sanctum was more congested than when she’d stolen a glimpse of it earlier, with people hanging out in clusters talking, laughing, and noshing. As she and Chris scooted through the crowd, Shelby wondered if she was brushing elbows with any Seattle celebs. How famous did a person have to be to get an invitation to this kind of event?
Chris led her toward the wall made up entirely of windows, which gave a perfect view of the backs of a bunch of kids in Dickensian costumes standing on a set of risers. They belted out “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” with so much gusto that the glass behind them actually rattled.
Jake stood near the door leading out to the balcony, rubbing the back of his neck and looking anxious. He looked up as they approached, relief evident on his face. “There you are. Thank goodness.” He nodded a greeting to Shelby as he continued speaking to Chris. “I thought you were going to make me manage this on my own.”
“Not a chance.”
Shelby followed them to another wall of black curtains that were perpendicular to the windows and ran the width of the area. Sheets of white paper were pinned to it every few feet. Shelby noted that the papers seemed to indicate the names of the acts that would be performing.
“Ladies, it’s Chris.” He spoke into the curtain next to a paper that read simply, Cornerstone. “Can we come in? I have someone I want you to meet.”
A buzz of voices rose up. Chris gestured for Shelby and Jake to follow him into the small area, which had been set up with tables and mirrored lights. People turned in their seats as they entered.
“Ladies,” Chris spoke over the din of the party going on just a few feet away. “I’d like you to meet Shelby. She’ll be taking Tom’s place tonight.” His open hand swept the room. “Shelby, I’d like you to meet Ruth-Ann, Violet, Helen, Mable, and Juanita.”
As the room came alive with greetings directed at her, Shelby bobbed her head at the silver-haired women, all decked out in green choir robes with red trim. She smiled to herself. So these were Chris’ ladies. All five of them seemed very sweet, and not one of them posed a romantic threat.
A barrage of questions followed, none of which was decipherable to Shelby, but all of which Chris seemed to field to their satisfaction. He held up a hand to silence them just as a woman wearing a headset poked her head through the curtain.
“Cornerstone Senior Residence Bell Choir?” She asked the question, but didn’t wait for the answer. “You’re on deck.”
“Okay, ladies.” Chris reached out his arms and the women all stood, pulling into the center of the small space. “Let’s say a prayer.” He reached back to draw Shelby and Jake into what quickly became a tight circle.
As he thanked God for this opportunity and asked that they would be a blessing to their audience, Shelby felt the warmth from his hand on her shoulder spread down her arm and across her back. She added her own quick ‘thank you’ in her head before joining everyone in saying, “Amen.”
Jake took the lead and Chris held the curtain for the five women, who seemed barely able to contain their excitement. As they passed by Shelby, each o
f them handed her a purse and said something sweet to her.
Toting the five purses on her arms, she brought up the rear of the group along with Chris. She inclined her head up to him so he could hear her speak. “So, these are your ladies?”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “I do a lot of work with Impact Ministry’s senior center. These gals have been best friends for years and they’ve kind of adopted me. They’re all pretty special to me.”
She smiled. “I can see that.”
As they stepped out into the cold night air, Shelby readjusted the purses so she could shove her hands into her pockets for warmth. Feeling the crinkly wrappers of the candy canes that Cynthia had given her, she smiled to herself. She found a place off to the side where she could watch the women perform, then glanced down at the row of carriages on the street below.
She remembered the message on Cynthia’s card.
Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.
For the first time all day, she felt certain that she was right in line with God’s plan.
Back in the dressing room, Shelby distributed the purses and watched with tears in her eyes as Chris presented the bells. After expressing their gratitude to him, the ladies went out with Jake to circulate with the party guests, and enjoy the rest of the show before the countdown to the lighting.
“So,” Chris said as the two of them leaned against the window, finally relaxing. “I guess I have to thank Tom for getting stuck in traffic.”
Shelby smiled. “I still can’t believe you were going to have a guy stand there holding five purses. I mean, if you ask me, he got stuck in traffic on purpose.”
“Good point.” Chris laughed.
Shelby smiled to herself. She’d been right. He did have a great laugh.
“So,” she spoke as they half listened to a local stand-up comedian do a bit about Santa getting stuck in a chimney. “How long have your ladies been together as a bell choir?”
“Oh, just since the beginning of the year.”
“Seriously?” She sputtered out a little laugh. “But, they were so good.”
