Joyfully Yours

by Amy Lamont

  “Really?” Maddie’s voice came out just a tiny bit breathless. She leaned slightly closer to Michael and looked up at him through her lashes.

  Faith wrinkled her nose.

  “We realized a few years ago we didn’t get much of a turnout when we served Thanksgiving dinner. There are enough churches and restaurants around the city serving dinner to the homeless or anyone who can’t afford a decent meal on Thanksgiving.”

  Maddie placed her hand on Michael’s sleeve. “Oh, that’s so interesting.”

  Faith gritted her teeth.

  “We also noticed we had more people than usual coming to the church’s soup kitchen and pantry the weekend after Thanksgiving and far fewer volunteers than we normally have. So we decided to close on Thanksgiving and recruit more volunteers for the weekend after.”

  “What a wonderful idea.” Again with the breathless voice.

  Faith barely restrained herself from jumping over the table and stabbing her sister’s hand—still planted on Michael’s sleeve—with her fork.

  “It is lovely,” Faith’s mom agreed. “We’ve often talked about volunteering on Thanksgiving.”

  We have? Faith couldn’t imagine doing anything but what they were doing right now on Thanksgiving. Every Thanksgiving had been exactly the same as far back as she could remember. In fact, she’d bet good money her mother would become apoplectic at just the mention of doing anything else.

  “Well, I know it’s too late to help on Thanksgiving Day,” Michael said, “but we’d be more than happy to have your help this weekend. We open early and stay open late all three days. We need help cooking and serving, cleaning, and making up boxes of donated groceries for families to take home.”

  Faith kept her laughter to herself as she swung her head to see her mother’s reaction to being caught by her own words.

  “That’s a wonderful idea. I think we should all plan on volunteering this weekend.”

  Faith dropped her fork on her plate with a clatter. “What?”

  “We all have the weekend off,” her mother said. “We can be at the church to volunteer. It’ll be a lovely family activity.”

  “I agree.” Maddie smiled up at Michael. “I’d love to help.”

  “We could go for a few hours and help serve food, couldn’t we?” Faith’s grandfather hopped up from the table and went around to pat his wife’s hand. Then he slowly slid his fingers up along her arm. He nibbled on her grandmother’s neck and Grandma’s words of agreement were lost in a giggle.

  “If those two keep it up, all the homeless people will lose their appetites,” Frank whispered to Faith.

  Faith nodded, but didn’t take her eyes off the elderly couple necking at the end of the table. It was like a train wreck. No matter how much you might want to, you just couldn’t look away.

  “And you two will be there, too.”

  Her mother’s command ripped Faith’s attention from her grandparents. She stared right at Faith and Frank, leaving no doubt who she was referring to.

  “Sorry, Mom, I’d love to, but I’m on call all weekend. It was the only way I could get today off, ” Frank said.

  Her mother turned the full force of her scrutiny on Faith. Her raised eyebrow told Faith her mother would brook no objections.

  She opened her mouth, but was cut off before she got so much as one word out.

  “You’re going, Faith.”

  “Fine.” Her gaze landed on Maddie’s hand where it rested on Michael’s sleeve. Maybe she should scramble for some kind of excuse.

  Then her gaze shifted up to find his blue eyes full of warmth and completely focused on her. Maybe not.

  Chapter Four

  Faith’s alarm blared at 6:50 a.m. on Black Friday. She slapped her hand around on her nightstand without opening her eyes. She breathed a sigh of relief when her hand connected with the snooze button.

  When her alarm went off again a few minutes later, she smacked it off and laid in bed moaning and groaning for a few minutes. What was so important that she’d set her alarm for this ungodly hour? Her bank account was on “E,” so shopping the Black Friday sales wasn’t an option. Not to mention, she hated shopping with the hordes that turned out the day after Thanksgiving. The best mall in the world was the Internet.

  She turned over and pulled the covers up to her chin, staring as the digital numbers on the clock changed to 7:02. Her eyes drifted slowly closed. She snuggled deeper into her warm, comfortable bed relishing the thought she had no work for three days.

  As if that thought triggered the memory, she could clearly hear her mother’s voice in her head. You’re going, Faith.

  Crap. She set the alarm because she had to get up and ready to volunteer at St. David’s. She’d promised her entire weekend to it. What had she been thinking? Well, okay, it’s not like she had a whole lot of choice in the matter. Her mother left her few options.

  The reason for her reluctance to volunteer when normally it would be right up her alley suddenly loomed in her mind's eye. Father Michael Flannery. The priest. But not that kind of priest. He was a priest who could date. A sexy, warm, charming, music loving, sexy priest who could date. And yes, she was well aware she’d gotten sexy in there twice.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before tossing off the covers. Directly across from the bed, her outfit for the day hung over the closet door. She’d spent way too much time last night picking out clothes. She wanted something that looked good without making it look like she was trying too hard to look good. In the end, she’d given up and decided the best thing to do was dress to suit herself—jeans, a black t-shirt layered over a more fitted, long sleeve gray one, and comfy boots.

  She headed for the shower, grumbling under her breath. “Not like he’s going to notice me.”

  She wasn’t exactly his type. He was a priest, for God’s sake. She wrinkled her nose at the pun before grimacing at the sentiment. Father Michael would never be interested in someone like her. As her mother liked to point out, Faith was a wild child. She kept crazy hours, didn’t have a “real” job, and spent evenings in some of the seedier bars and clubs the tri-state area had to offer—all in the name of a music career her mother promised would never amount to anything. And she had to admit, if only to herself, she was beginning to fear her mother was right.

  The hot water beat down on her. She closed her eyes and waited for the steamy heat to ease her muscles. But as her mind played over the events of last night, her shoulders remained rigid. A lump formed in her throat and she wondered for the millionth time since walking out her mother’s door last night if she should come up with an excuse to get out of volunteering.

  Finding no relief from her churning thoughts, she quickly did what needed to be done and hopped out of the shower. She rubbed a towel briskly over her skin and cringed as she remembered telling Michael about her music. Did she sound like a complete idiot still trying to make a living with her music at the ripe old age of twenty-six?

  The idea of trying things differently had been floating around Faith’s head for several months now. Last night, coming out on the losing end in comparisons with her sister and being reminded of what it felt like to be passionate about her music, just brought it to a head. Maybe it was time to make some changes.

  “But not right now.” She looked at the clock and then quickly pulled her shirt over her head. They’d agreed to meet at St. David’s at nine, and she was already running a few minutes behind. Major life changes could wait. Right now it was more important she put a little hustle in her step to avoid a lecture from her mother on the virtues of punctuality.

  Maybe, too, getting there early meant she could have her pick of jobs. She’d be sure to pick one well away from Michael. As nice as he was to look at, she didn’t need the reminder she wasn’t right for a man like him.

  Faith’s plans went out the window the moment she arrived. She definitely wasn’t early. By the time she and her family got there, the church and the auditorium swarmed with volunt
eers. Hoping she could blend in with them before she was noticed, Faith’s gaze darted around the room seeking a place she could offer her services without talking to Michael first.

  Luck was not on her side. Before Faith could stop them, both her mother and her sister started waving and calling out to him. So much for lying low.

  “Good morning,” Father Michael said as he walked over to them. “Happy to see you all made it.”

  Was it Faith’s imagination or did his eyes linger on her? Nope, must be her imagination. Or wishful thinking.

  Maddie offered a saccharine smile. “Good morning, Father Michael.”

  “We’re so happy to be here,” her mother said. “My parents send their regrets. They weren’t feeling up for a full day of activity today. I guess that’s what happens as our parents get older.”

  Her last words came out on a regretful sigh and Faith suppressed a giggle. She’d bet her next paycheck her grandparents weren’t too tired because of their age, but rather because they’d stayed up all night christening the bed in her mother’s guest room.

  “I understand,” Michael said smoothly. “I’m happy to have the three of you. Do you have a preference as to where you want to lend a hand?” He went on to explain what was going on in each area of the church auditorium.

  “Oh, Mom and I will probably do best in the kitchen. We can help with the food prep and service,” Maddie said. “I just love to cook.”

  “Maddie is an excellent cook,” her mother agreed with a smile for her “good” daughter. “The kitchen is usually my domain, too.”

  “Great. How about you, Faith?” Michael turned the full force of his blue eyes on her and for the first time in her life, Faith found herself tongue-tied. She stalled for time by looking around the room, trying to think of something, anything, to say.

  Her gaze landed on a spot in the corner of the room. There was an area rug rolled out and a number of different toys scattered around. There were already two small boys busy pushing trains around on the carpet.

  Turning back to Father Michael, she still had trouble forming words. Had he been this handsome yesterday? It immediately struck Faith he had indeed, but he’d also been a different type of priest yesterday, at least in her mind. Impatient with herself, she gestured over to the corner of the room. “Do you need help over there?”

  “That’s the perfect spot,” Maddie said before Michael could respond. “As far as you can get from the kitchen.” Maddie laughed at her own joke. Faith narrowed her eyes at her sister.

  “Yes, I’m afraid Faith doesn’t have much talent in the kitchen,” her mom said. “But she’s wonderful with children. She’d be perfect to help out with the little ones.”

  Faith’s jaw dropped. Had her mother just paid her a compliment?

  “Great,” Michael said. He pointed her mother and Maddie in the direction of the kitchen and the volunteer in charge of organizing things there. “And Faith, I can get you started in the children’s area.”

  Faith wasn’t surprised to see annoyance cross her sister’s face at being passed off to somebody else. She seemed to be hoping for a little personal attention from Michael. Faith felt like sticking her tongue out at her, but settled for a small gloating smile.

  The smile left quickly, however, as she realized how silly she was being. Why wouldn’t Michael prefer Maddie? Maddie would be the perfect wife for the head of a congregation. She had all the domestic skills Faith lacked. Not to mention, Maddie was the queen of volunteer projects. Faith could easily picture Maddie heading up church bake sales, ironing Michael’s…whatever he had to wear…and being the perfect little wife. Even their names sounded good together—Michael and Maddie. She could almost see the engraving on the wedding invitations.

  “Everything okay?” Father Michael’s deep, quiet voice pulled Faith from her thoughts.

  “Yes. Fine.” She shook her head, as if the motion could shake out the picture of Maddie and Michael walking down the aisle together. Gross.

  Michael took a step closer and his gaze roamed her face.

  “You sure?”

  Under his intense scrutiny, Faith could only nod. She swallowed hard once and then again, but couldn’t make herself look away from his intent perusal. A small smile quirked the corner of his lips, and Faith couldn’t help but linger there, staring at the perfect mouth and imagining what it would feel like to have his lips lower to meet hers, softly at first, and then….

  “Father Michael! Father Michael!” The voice of the little boy who was now dancing around their legs broke the trance. “Come see my train.”

  Faith smiled as the boy, who had to be around five, tugged on his hand, pulling him over to the play area on the rug. “Looks like your services are needed, Father Michael.”

  “Michael,” he said.

  Faith shifted her attention from the boy to the man. “What?”

  “You can drop the Father. My name’s Michael.” He allowed the little boy to drag him away.

  Faith’s voice was no more than a whisper when she repeated it. “Michael.”

  A small smile tugged at her lips as, instead of paying lip service to the small boy’s enthusiastic chatter, Michael got down on the floor and sat cross-legged, asking the boy serious questions about everything his train could do. The other boy, this one about three years old, wandered over and leaned into Michael’s side. Michael reached up and, in an action that seemed completely natural, pulled the little one into his lap while the discussion of trains continued.

  Did he have to be so perfect?

  Throughout the morning and into the afternoon, Michael stopped to check on her. The children’s corner had gotten crowded, and Faith and another volunteer worked hard to keep the peace, hand out juice boxes, and make sure all the kids made it to the potty before any accidents happened.

  “You look like a natural,” Michael said when he stopped by for the tenth time that day. Not that she was counting or anything. And she certainly hadn’t paid any attention to the fact he had only popped his head into the kitchen twice.

  “A natural?”

  “With the kids. They all seem to really like you.”

  Faith smiled. “I like them, too.”

  Michael nodded with a smile of his own. “It shows.”

  Faith discreetly pointed to a girl with platinum blond hair sitting on a corner of the rug reading a book. “See her? Sarah’s seven. She asked me how I thought she’d look with a streak of hot pink in her hair. She totally rocks.”

  “What did you tell her?” Michael asked with a laugh.

  “I told her to hold off. I did that once when I was sixteen. It looked cool, but my mother flipped her lid. The streak of pink didn’t look good enough to make it worth all the lectures I had to listen to. Sarah told me she completely understood.” Faith giggled. “She even rolled her eyes. She’s great.”

  “I can see why the kids gravitate toward you.”

  “Probably because I’m usually acting like one of them.”

  “No,” Michael said, “it’s because you treat them with respect. You see them for who they are and you don’t talk down to them because they happen to be kids.”

  Faith beamed at him. No matter which of her shortcomings were pointed out to him, he seemed determined to see only the good.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Oh boy. There was that look again. If he kept gazing into her eyes she was going to start getting ideas.

  He was gorgeous, had a killer smile, and seemed to take a genuine interest in everyone he came into contact with. How was this man still single?

  “How come you’re still single?”

  Darn it. Did she say that out loud? She’d been so distracted by his lips, she forgot to pay attention to her own wayward mouth.

  A laugh escaped him. “What?”

  “I mean, I’m just surprised.” Faith paused, trying to collect her thoughts, but couldn’t keep from doing some more blurting. “It’s just, I met a
bunch of single women today. I thought they’d be all over you. You’re so…perfect.”

  Dear. Lord. Was it possible to die of embarrassment? That wasn’t what she’d intended to say. At all. She opened her mouth only to close it again. Her mouth, which seemed to have a mind of its own only seconds ago, was suddenly silent.

  “You think I’m perfect?” He laughed again, and Faith heard all the blood in her body racing to her cheeks.

  “Well, I just mean….” Damn it, why couldn’t she have forgotten how to form sentences two minutes sooner and spared herself this moment?

  “Faith,” Michael said as he reached out for her hand and tugged until she looked up at him, “the women in my church think of me first and foremost as a priest. A few may show interest here and there, but when it comes down to it, I guess the whole man of the cloth thing is a real turn off.”

  Faith sucked in a breath and then gave a startled laugh. She hadn’t expected him to couch things in quite those terms. But seriously, how could these women not see the man behind the collar? “They must be blind, deaf, and dumb not to notice what’s under the cloth.”

  A shudder went through her. She yanked her hand from his and clapped both hands over her mouth. She would not allow one more word to slide from her lips today. She was taking a vow of silence. She should never, ever be allowed to speak anywhere near this man.

  She stared at him. She waited for him to brush her off gently, maybe give her a tight-lipped smile.

  But the rebuff didn’t come. He smiled all right, but it was warm and gentle and went all the way up to his eyes. He took a step closer so she had to tilt her head back to keep her eyes on his. He reached his hands up towards hers, but Faith shook her head. No way was she letting him take her hands from her mouth. That way was danger. Who knew what might come bubbling out next? She might propose to him.

  Michael just nodded in response and continued on his way, gently pulling her hands down. Her head dropped forward, but he wouldn’t allow even that much escape. He used his finger on her chin to raise her eyes back up to his. “Faith, don’t look away. Please.”