by Pat Simmons
Of all the questions she wanted answered, the last one would be her first. Sticking her head out the kitchen door, Joy advised it was time to eat.
Mrs. Thomas instructed the children to wash their hands. As they headed in the opposite direction, following her neighbor like baby chicks, Christian stood and walked toward her.
“Would I break house rules if I wash my hands in your sink?”
His voice wasn’t that husky in her dreams. She blinked. “No.”
His heeled dress boots clicked against her polished wood floor, a notable contrast from her house slippers’ faint sliding sound. She watched Christian take in the ambiance of her magnificent kitchen with granite countertops, island and all the amenities to make one’s dining experience enjoyable. It was intended to be a showstopper for a single professional.
“Wow, good taste, Miss Knight.”
“Thank you, but a bit impractical for a woman with four small children.”
Drawing Joy into a steady gaze, Christian chided her. “My two brothers and I grew up with nice things, which encouraged us to work hard to obtain and appreciate nice things. Okay?”
Swallowing, Joy took a deep breath and nodded. As her heart pounded wildly, she had to ask, “What is your fascination with me?”
“You’re kiddin’ me, right?” When the others entered the kitchen, Christian lowered his voice. “I love cliff hangers, don’t you? It’ll give us a chance to pick up on that note.”
The smirk he gave her was a tease as the little people vied for his attention, begging Christian to sit next to each one of them. Even Bethani voiced her invitation.
“Children,” Joy said sternly, “Mr. Andersen and Mrs. Thomas are our guests.”
With the seating arrangements settled, Bethani asked if Christian would bless their food. Joy looked to him and he didn’t seem to mind. Andersen nodded and reached for Bethani’s hand, then cupped Joy’s hand in his. He gave hers a faint squeeze. The vibes returned. Clearing her throat, she focused on grace.
“Father God in the mighty name of Jesus, we thank You. In Your presence, we give thanks for our lives, possessions, family and friends. I pray You will not only bless and sanctify our food, but this household. In Jesus’ name—”
“Thank You, Lord, for the giver of this meal,” Joy whispered.
“And my ice cream!” Bethani added as the other children cheered.
After the Amens, Joy insisted Christian fix his plate first, then she and Mrs. Thomas took care of the children. A few times, Joy had to coax her daughter and Shane not to play with their food. Finally, the children begged to finish watching cartoons with Christian.
Mrs. Thomas stepped in. “Why don’t I watch them with you, then after Mr. Christmas—” She paused, chuckling at the nickname—“has some dessert, maybe he’ll come.”
Shane lifted his fork. “Yay.” Jada and Darla followed his antics.
Once the children scrambled into the next room, Joy stood and grabbed the sweet potato pie and a knife. She returned to the table. “You do the honors, Mr. Christmas,” she teased.
“You, Miss Knight, can say my name.”
Christian cut two hefty slices and placed one on her plate and then his. They smiled, waiting for the other to take the first bite. He nodded for her to go on. The sweet, creamy taste exploded from the moment she took her first bite until she swallowed. “That is good!”
“I’ll tell my mom you liked her masterpiece.” Christian broke off a chunk and slid it in his mouth. He barely chewed and smacked his lips. “Umm-umm.”
“Why me, Christian? What is your interest in a woman with four children?”
“Why not you, Joy?” he rebutted with a serious expression. “I let my heart guide me. The day I saw you, I almost missed you. What we may think are coincidences, accidents or surprises are on God’s schedule for us. If you hadn’t been short on money, our paths may have never crossed, then I wouldn’t have known to pray to God to see you again.”
Joy’s mouth dropped. “You wanted to see me again?” The mention of children alone should have made him take a commanding dash across an imaginary race. She frowned, clearly not understanding this man.
“You’re one classy lady who makes juggling a career and rearing children—well behaved by the way—easy.”
“Really? Then that means I’m doing a good job pretending.”
Christian frowned. “What does that mean?”
Joy fanned her hand in the air. “Oh nothing. It’s a long, painful story why the children aren’t with their father.”
“I’m a good listener.”
“Bethani thinks you’re my guardian angel because you seemed to be there at the times I needed someone,” she was stalling, debating if she would burden him with her problems.
“You’ve opened your home to me for dinner. I accepted because I wanted to see you again. Now, take a chance and open your heart. We can start off as friends.”
Friends? Joy didn’t know if she was insulted, wounded or didn’t care. It wasn’t like she had free time to invest in a romantic relationship.
“Okay.” Joy folded her hands, not making eye contact. “This may be our last Thanksgiving and Christmas in this house. If Capital Community Bank doesn’t approve my loan, then the next time you see me, I might be in a line for the homeless shelter.” She glanced around with glazed eyes.
“I bought this house when I was pregnant with Jada and accepted it was over with her father. Since it was a foreclosed property, I got it for a good deal. Who knew it would be booked up like a hotel with more children? Now, I’m in the same boat as the previous owners. As you can imagine, my ratio of income to expenses has changed.”
Christian seemed thoughtful and concerned. “Have you prayed about it?”
“I’ve prayed about a lot of things, but God hasn’t changed a thing,” Joy answered in a tone that dared him to argue with her.
He switched the subject. “You don’t seem like a woman who lives beyond her means, so what happened? Where is the children’s father?”
Joy grunted. “Which one? I think Langston, my brother-in-law, started his disappearing acts when the doctors said Regina’s cancer had progressed and there was nothing more they could do. My sister was the wise one, good-hearted, and had so much faith in God. She was convinced she was marrying a good Christian man—no pun intended.”
Christian smiled. “Sometimes God spares the good from seeing the bad. Read 2 Chronicles 34:28,” he suggested softly.
Up until that point, the Bible had provided her little comfort. She didn’t comment. “Regina’s family was her priority, so she worked part time. If she was still alive, Regina would not recognize the man her husband had become. He started drinking, smoking and God knows what else.” She paused as her mind drifted.
“Anyway, God took the wrong sister. Take me for instance, I was the disposable one. I fell in love, too, but without waiting for a proposal, I got pregnant with Jada. That’s when I learned that Steven was a diehard self-proclaimed bachelor. My relationship with God was a second thought, at best. I’d rather work and earn crazy amounts of money to buy my heart’s desire than go to hear someone preach about something that isn’t tangible to me. What a fool.”
Shaking her head, Joy was on a roll and couldn’t stop venting. “Langston remarried three months after we buried Regina. His new wife is nothing like my sister.” Joy stood and began to collect dishes. Christian followed her lead. “Bethani says she is mean and yells a lot. The woman has made it clear she doesn’t want Langston’s kids in their marriage. She already had two of her own.”
“Whoa.”
“Yes. For a while, I felt like the ex-wife, reminding Langston of his responsibilities until I just went to court and filed for legal custody. He’s still welcome to see his children anytime. So far, his visits are scarce.”
“Joy, I’m so sorry you had to go through this alone.”
“How humiliating.” She sniffed and looked away. This was not meant to be a pity
party.
“God favors humiliation. Jesus suffered it for us. You endured it for your children. That’s what attracted me to you. You opened your home. I know people who wouldn’t open their home to their own mother.”
“You make me sound like I’m some sort of hero,” Joy mumbled as a tear fell.
Christian’s thumb was there to catch it as the children burst through the kitchen doors, demanding Christian before the next cartoon started. “We’ve already Skyped with Grandma and Grandpa. They said for you to call them when your company leaves, auntie,” Bethani said,
“Okay.” Joy could just imagine what Bethani told her mother about her guest.
Looking torn between staying with her, and caving in to the whims of the little people, Christian seemed to hesitate, but she needed time to regroup.
“Go. I’ll join you in a minute.” When he left the kitchen, Joy slipped into the garage and sobbed silently. “God, if you’re listening, send help.”
Chapter 8
Laughing, Christian played along with the children as he allowed them to drag him into the next room. But his heart was heavy, thinking about Joy. In a short period of time, God revealed that her greatest need wasn’t food and shelter, but spiritual strength. Christian had his work cut out for him to draw her to Christ, and this time it was personal. He was attracted to his “assignment.”
Come first thing Monday morning, Christian would use his connections and see if he could intercede with the bank on her behalf. With the extent of his family’s wealth, all Christian had to do was write a check to pay down her loan or to clear her debt totally, but that act would be for selfish reasons. How would that increase her faith in God?
Giggling, the children forced him to fall on the sofa where they were sticking to his sides like a bandage. Christian was aware that Mrs. Thomas was watching him.
Clearing her throat, she spoke above a whisper. “What do you do for a living besides rescuing damsels in distress?” She smiled with admiration.
“Well, my two brothers and I run a company where we invest in people and their dreams. We put our money where our mouths are in terms of production, marketing and staff support.”
“Sounds like a mouth full. Why don’t you make it plainer for this sixty-five-year-old woman,” Mrs. Thomas prompted.
“Sorry.” Christian chuckled. “Inventors see visions and we help bring them to life. Imagine mailing a letter on a rainy day. Thanks to African-American Philip B. Downing who thought of the hinge door on the street mailboxes, our mail is protected. He, along with Dr. Charles Drew, George Washington Carver, Morgan Garrett and others were just a small handful of Black pioneers with inventions that sparked something in me to keep the ideas coming.”
Mrs. Thomas seemed fascinated with his explanation.
“As a matter of fact, one of our clients, Stacy Clark’s invention will be in stores next week in time for the holidays. It was a hit with consumers during test market. Her bright idea is bras that have compartments for storing money, medicine or a cell phone. There’s even a punch—”
She lifted her hand to stop him. “I get the point, but you can understand if I’d rather not talk about women’s underwear with a man.”
Christian grinned in embarrassment. “Sorry. I tend to get carried away.”
“Oh, that’s all right.” Mrs. Thomas smiled. “I’d rather see these young minds create big things. I just want to say God bless you, young man, for helping Joy. She’s not a complainer, but if you looked into her eyes, you can see she worries too much.”
Christian nodded. Her eyes also told him that she was attracted to him.
Mrs. Thomas scooted closer and whispered, “She’s been through so much with her sister’s death and brother-in-law’s split personality, but she loves these children. She ain’t got time for foolishness. I’m a praying neighbor.”
“We’re on the same page.”
Satisfied, she relaxed in her chair, then Shane crawled into her lap. Once he nuzzled a comfortable position against her bosom, the toddler drifted off to sleep like the girls.
Minutes later, Joy stepped out of the kitchen with a beautiful smile that didn’t reach into her brown eyes. Without looking at him, Joy spoke to her neighbor. “I’ll take Shane and lay him down in his bed. We have a crazy day tomorrow.”
“How crazy?” Christian frowned.
“Let’s just say I’ll be going insane as I try to catch some of the Black Friday specials, mostly to stock up on clothes. Children grow so fast. Then I’ll let Bethani and Darla pick out a present for their Secret Santas at school and preschool. I’ll get my daughter and Shane something so they won’t feel left out.”
“Yep, you are insane. You may have to park a mile away from the stores. Plus, it will be chilly tomorrow,” Christian said, trying to reason with her. He had never been a fan of mob-like sales.
“I offered to watch the babies,” Mrs. Thomas interjected.
“No, Mrs. Thomas, you need a day off. Anyway, shopping is part of the holiday tradition. This will be my nieces’ and nephew’s second Christmas with me. It won’t be as extravagant as last year, but I’ll make sure they have presents under the tree.”
“Okay, dear. If you change your mind, I’ll be next door,” her neighbor said, slowly standing and patting her round stomach. “I’d better head home. I think I’ll take a nap.”
“Hold on.” Joy adjusted Shane on her shoulder and headed upstairs.
Once she disappeared, Mrs. Thomas faced Christian. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Andersen, and I hope to see you again.” They chatted a few more moments before merriment danced in her eyes as she wagged her finger, making sure the girls had dozed off. “And no talking about women’s underwear.”
They were sharing a laugh as Joy reappeared and asked, “What about women’s underwear?”
After her neighbor left, Joy seemed more relaxed. She arched a brow. “Okay, do I even want to know what you two were discussing?”
“It was business.” He stepped closer and glanced at the couch. The girls remained sleeping. “I was thinking, how about letting me be your chauffeur during your shopping spree.”
Bethani stirred, but ignored them.
“And while we’re at it, I can show you a stress-free Christian Christmas,” he challenged.
Bethani instantly sat up, fully alert. “Can we, Auntie? I want to know what a Christian Christmas is, don’t you?”
Throwing up her arms, Joy conceded. Bethani grinned, and Christian walked to the sofa and gave her a high five. He was about to leave when Joy stopped him to go into the kitchen and get his mother’s pie pan, which she had cleaned.
“Mr. Andersen, are you an angel?”
Christian smiled at her innocence. He tweaked her nose. “Sorry, I’m not.”
“Great!”
“Great?”
“Yeah, because angels can’t get married.” Bethani beamed.
She had dumbfounded him. For such a young child, she had a better understanding of the Bible than some adults. In Matthew 22, Jesus said those that rise in the resurrection will neither marry, nor are given in marriage, but become as the angels of God in heaven.
Forgetting about him, Bethani woke Darla and Jada. As she guided them up the stairs, Joy returned with the pan in a brown bag.
Bethani glanced back and waved. Christian did the same, then focused on Joy.
The rapture hadn’t taken place yet, so as long as he remained in his earthly body, Christian would desire a woman. He locked Joy in a stare. It seemed as if they were waiting for the other to make the first move since they were alone again. Christian made it and stepped closer. Fighting temptation, he had to take control of the moment.
Although she was the object of his affection, Christian held back. He had to be about his Father’s business, which was to show Joy the true meaning of Christmas. Once he accomplished that, a kiss was on! “Good night,” he whispered. “I’ll see you tomorrow, if it’s the Lord’s will. May the Lord watch between
me and thee while we’re absent...”
“While we’re absent.” Joy blinked. “Then I guess I’ll be praying that it is God’s will. Good night.”
Chapter 9
Joy waved as Christian drove off and exhaled. Christian Andersen tempted Joy to believe in fairy tales. The kiss was coming. She knew it. When he retreated, her lips didn’t like it.
But it was for the best. After all, she had fallen hard and quick for Jada’s father without really knowing him. This was only the third time she and Christian had seen each other. Plus, it wasn’t like she had been searching for male companionship, but after tonight, she craved his presence. The question still lingered, why her and her brood—four children?
She proceeded to tidy her family room before turning off the lights. Joy had no idea what she was getting into with Christian. Joy giggled. Did the man know what he was getting into when he accepted her dinner invitation? The children watched him as if he was the main course.
He was ultimate fine with a laid back persona and his patience with the children…whew, she needed a dose of what he took for that. As Joy climbed the stairs, she wondered what he meant by a Christian Christmas. It didn’t matter. She still dreaded the thought of dragging two, three and four year olds around, and although Bethani was obedient, it was Joy’s responsibility to keep an eye on her as well. At least, Christian offered to drive.
Once upstairs, Joy quietly entered the bedroom the little girls shared. She gazed down at her daughter before tucking her under the covers, then checked on Darla in the other bed, kissing her cheek. They were only one year apart, but they would grow up as sisters.
She crossed the hall to Bethani who had the larger room next to Joy’s master bedroom. Her niece was so much like her mother at that age. Joy’s eyes watered. Finally, she peeped in on Shane.
Retiring to her own bedroom, Joy prepared for bed, thinking she would call her parents in the morning. Sliding to her knees to pray became easier with the passing of time. Not long ago, Joy had been too angry with God for letting Regina die.
