“And there are folks who can’t afford it,” Dorothy reminded her.
They continued to talk about the mobile vet clinic, brainstorming together, coming up with various ideas for how it might work. Cassidy was thoroughly enjoying herself—and she was falling for Brent. But at least she wasn’t showing it.
As she helped to clean up after the meal, Dorothy apologized for not having fixed a dessert. “I hoped that I could send you two kids out for ice cream.” She winked at Cassidy, almost as if she had planned this from the start. “There’s a really good shop just a few—”
“Sorry, Grandma.” Brent leaned down and pecked Dorothy on the cheek. “I can’t do that tonight.”
“Oh?” Dorothy frowned. “You have other plans?”
“Something I need to take care of—before tomorrow.” He hung up his dish towel. “So if you ladies will excuse me, I’m going to bail out even before the cleanup is done.”
“No problem, I can finish up in here.” Cassidy forced what she hoped looked like a genuine smile. “Thank you for making such a great dinner.”
“Yes, thank you.” Dorothy still looked troubled. “You really have to go home so early?”
He made an apologetic smile. “Sorry, but I do.”
He told Cassidy that he’d been glad to meet her and, just like that, he grabbed his coat and left.
“I’m so sorry,” Dorothy told Cassidy. “Brent is usually not that rude.”
“That wasn’t rude,” Cassidy said lightly. “He just had somewhere he needed to be.” She put a hand on Dorothy’s shoulder, guiding her to the living room. “And I insist you go put your feet up while I finish up in here.”
Dorothy started to protest, but Cassidy wouldn’t allow it. Finally, with Dorothy in her recliner and Jeopardy! playing on the TV, Cassidy returned to the kitchen. As she continued cleaning up, she reminded herself that this was nothing new. She usually had that effect on guys. They would meet her and act cordial for a while, but before the evening ended, they would lose interest. She usually blamed herself for being too eager, but she didn’t think she’d done that tonight.
Of course, she had monopolized the conversation. She hadn’t really meant to, but both Brent and Dorothy had seemed so interested . . . and supportive. But perhaps they were simply being polite. And really, what difference did it make? This was how it always went with her. When it came to guys, she was useless. The sooner she accepted her fate to be the spinster cat lady, the better off she would be. You can’t get your heart broken if you don’t go throwing it out there for some guy to trample on. Still, she had really believed that Brent was different. Of course, she’d been wrong . . . again.
Grace had arranged to meet Belinda at her shop on Saturday, in order to see what she might be willing to donate to the Habitat project. The plan was to meet early, even before the shop opened, since Belinda hoped to have a busy day. Considering that the Christmas shoppers would be out and about following this morning’s Christmas parade, it made sense. But it also meant that Grace got up while Joel, worn out from his late-night Christmas party, was still sleeping. Perhaps it was for the best, since she was still smoldering over being stood up—and her ruined dinner. She knew it was unreasonable on her part, but it was how she felt.
“I brought us coffees,” Grace announced. She handed Belinda a latte that had been made exactly like Belinda liked it.
“You’re an angel!” Belinda laughed as she sniffed it. “Oh, that’s right, we all are.”
“I don’t feel much like an angel,” Grace confessed as Belinda led her into the back room. “If you knew what I wanted to do to my husband last night—” She stopped herself, embarrassed that she’d said that much.
“What did you want to do to him?” Belinda’s dark eyes twinkled with curiosity as she leaned against a cabinet, sipping her latte.
Grace waved a dismissive hand. “You know how it goes. He’d gotten my goat—I guess I wanted to drop-kick him over the goal post of life.” She laughed. “No big deal.”
“What happened?” Belinda gently prodded her. “I always thought of you two as being very close. Anyway, that was how Abby painted it. I remember how you and Joel vacationed with Abby and Clayton last year. From what I heard, Grace and Joel Westland were all sweetness and light.”
Suddenly Grace found herself opening up, spilling about how she and Joel had been at odds with each other ever since they’d disagreed over the twins at Thanksgiving. “To be honest, it started even before that. But Thanksgiving was when it seemed to come to a head. Now it seems like all we do is argue,” she said sadly. “Over anything and everything. And I realize that a lot of it is my fault. I’ve been stressed out over my angel project. I know I bit off more than I can chew. I didn’t do it intentionally. And I would think that Joel would be more understanding—or even offer to help. But he hasn’t.”
“Maybe he thinks you’re handling it fine on your own. And at least you’ve got your friends helping you. According to Cassidy, you’re making progress.” Belinda pointed to where a dressing table and mirror was set up in a corner, explaining how she’d given Cassidy a makeover yesterday. “I wanted to give her confidence a makeover too. Cass said you’d encouraged her along those same lines.”
“I did.” Grace nodded eagerly. “I’m so glad you did that. How did she look?”
“Really great. And she had a date last night. Well, she didn’t call it a date. It was her old lady friend and her grandson. Anyway, when Cass left here, she was in good spirits.” Belinda picked up an angel ornament. “Her cats had torn this up,” she said as she twirled it on her finger.
“But it looks okay.” Grace leaned forward to see better.
“That’s because she’s been in angel surgery.” Belinda told Grace about the Bible verse that had been tied underneath the angel’s lacy gown. “It was the verse about how we are fearfully and wonderfully made by God. I think it was Abby’s way of nudging Cassidy to appreciate herself more.”
“That’s amazing. It’s exactly what I told her yesterday,” Grace declared.
“I think Abby might’ve put a verse in each of our angels.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I found mine last night.”
“What did it say?”
“I don’t have it with me, but as soon as I read it, I remembered it as a verse my grandmother used to say to me. It’s Jeremiah 29:11, and it says that God knows the plans he has for me—that they’re good plans that won’t hurt me—and that I’ll have hope and a good future.” Belinda smiled.
“That’s encouraging.”
“I know.”
Grace grimaced. “Maybe I need to go see if my angel has some secret message for me. She’ll probably tell me to quit being so hard on my husband.” She smirked at Belinda. “I had actually planned to apologize to Joel last night. I’d made this really nice dinner and had a fire going in the fireplace and everything. But he was off at his stupid office party—having too good a time to come home to his poor lonely wife. He didn’t even get home until well past midnight.”
“Why didn’t you go to the party with him?”
Grace shrugged. “I don’t know . . .” She actually did know. She had declined to go because she’d been angry when he’d told her about it. She had thought she could punish him by refusing to go. It seemed like she’d only punished herself, though.
“So, I’m curious, Grace, are your worst marital problems in regard to your kids and how they’re wasting their college tuition? Did I understand you right?”
Grace nodded glumly.
“And Joel has never cheated on you?” Belinda’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“No, of course not.”
“And he’s not an alcoholic or a gambler or an abuser or anything like that?” Belinda peered closely at Grace, clearly studying her.
“No, nothing like that.” Grace frowned uncomfortably. “He’s actually quite decent. On a good day, he’s rather likeable.”
“You want to know t
he truth?” Belinda sighed. “If my husband had been a little more like Joel—if he’d stuck around—I think I might still be married. And if he’d invited me to a Christmas party last night, I would’ve been there with bells on.”
Grace started to cry now.
“I’m sorry.” Belinda put a hand on her back. “I guess I shouldn’t have said that. Abby was always warning me not to say everything that came into my head. As you can see, I’m still learning.” She handed Grace a tissue.
As Grace blew her nose, she knew that Belinda wasn’t trying to be mean. She was only being honest. Belinda’s husband had cheated on her and he’d been abusive too. According to Abby, it had been a blessing in disguise when he’d abandoned Belinda shortly after Emma had been born. But that was more than twenty years ago. None of them could figure out why someone as beautiful and intelligent as Belinda had remained single all these years. Abby said it was because of Emma. Belinda had devoted herself to raising her.
If Grace hadn’t felt like her own life was such a mess, she might’ve asked Belinda about this. As it was, she was barely able to keep her emotions together as they went through Belinda’s back room, picking and choosing items that Grace felt would work for the Habitat homes.
“Thanks for all these great pieces,” Grace told Belinda shortly before Glad Rags was supposed to open for business. “They will add some real personality to the rooms. I’ll send my moving guys over on Monday to pick them up.” Grace hugged Belinda. “And thanks for listening to me—and for saying what you said. In a way it reminded me of Abby.”
“Really?” Belinda looked hopeful.
“It was like Abby—with sharp teeth.”
Belinda grimaced.
“But I needed it.”
“We’re setting chairs out on the sidewalk to watch the parade.” Belinda walked Grace to the front of the shop. “Want to join us?”
“Sounds fun, but I need to go to my studio and get to work. Thanks to my Habitat project, I’m way behind.”
“That’s too bad.” Belinda sadly shook her head. “If you change your mind, you’re welcome.”
Grace thanked her again, but she knew she wouldn’t be coming back. Not because it didn’t sound fun but because, like she said, thanks to her angel project, her real work was getting neglected. She knew her paying clients would be understanding—at least during the holidays. But Christmas would come and go, and then they’d expect their design dreams to be put perfectly into place. One client, vacationing in Hawaii during December, expected her home remodel to be completely finished in time for her big New Year’s Eve party. Grace didn’t have time for parades or parties—she had work to do!
12
The design studio was dark and quiet as Grace let herself in the back door. Typical for a Saturday, and a big reason she often worked on weekends. With no distractions or interruptions, she could accomplish more than twice as much. She hurried up the stairs, turning on the lights in her loft studio and opening the blinds to let even more light in. She glanced down to Main Street below, where spectators were already gathering to watch the parade. It must be nice to have that kind of free time.
As she set her bag down on her big worktable, she noticed her angel ornament dangling from the desk lamp. She’d left it there to remind herself that the Habitat homes were her angel project. Not that she needed much reminding since she’d pretty much been thinking about it night and day lately. As she turned on her computer, she remembered what Belinda had said about the “secret message” that she and Cassidy had discovered. Was it possible that Abby had left an angel message for Grace as well?
Feeling anticipation akin to opening a Chinese fortune cookie, Grace peeled back the layers of lace and satin and felt around on the angel. Sure enough, there was a tiny paper scroll. It was secured around the angel’s midsection with a piece of gold thread. Grace removed the thread and unrolled the small scroll, longing for some words of encouragement. But all it said was “Matthew 6.”
“Huh?” Grace stared down at the words. Did that mean she was supposed to read a whole chapter from the Bible? It wasn’t that she was unwilling to read a whole chapter, but she felt slightly irked by it. Why had Abby given Belinda and Cassidy a few lines, but decided that Grace needed an entire chapter? She tossed the curly paper aside and turned her attention to the computer screen, but unable to focus now—thanks to that slip of paper—she knew she had to find out what that chapter said.
Grace went over to her bookshelf, where she was pretty certain she had a New Testament—one that Abby had given her for Christmas several years ago after Grace had confessed to never reading the Bible. Sure enough, the book was wedged between a design book and an old furniture catalog. She blew the dust off the Bible and opened it up, flipping a few pages until she came to the specified chapter.
She no longer felt the fortune-cookie anticipation. Instead, she felt aggravated. Really, she didn’t have time for this! To read a whole chapter? What was Abby trying to say to her anyway? Grace decided she would simply read the first line or two, then skim a bit—and get back to what she should be doing—working!
She took in a deep breath and started to read. She could barely get past the first couple of sentences. It was a strong warning—not to do good deeds publicly. She laid the book down with an uneasy feeling gnawing inside of her. Wasn’t that exactly what she’d done with the Habitat project? Doing her “good deeds” so everyone could see them? She’d acted like a spoiled show-off, going around town talking the project up—even complaining about what a hardship it was for her—like she was some sort of saint.
But according to this section of Scripture, she should be doing this work in private—so that only God could see her. Although these verses cut her to the core, they also resonated deep inside. It made sense, and she felt like she really should’ve known better.
At the same time, she reminded herself she wasn’t completely mercenary. After all, she really had come to care about the new homeowners. Hadn’t she gotten more interested in the project after meeting them? Hadn’t her heartstrings been tugged? But the real truth was that she never would’ve agreed to help in the first place—not without the incentive of having her name attached to the project. She wanted the public relations and advertising—all good for her design firm. But now she understood that by continuing along her PR-motivated path, her only reward would be some cheap temporary publicity. Whereas if she did it secretly—simply because she wanted to help—God would be pleased with her.
She stared at the angel Abby had made her and, just like that, she knew what needed to happen. She would continue her Habitat project—wholeheartedly—and in such a way that no one would realize it was Grace Westland or her design firm that was responsible for it. She would leave no placards in the Habitat homes, she would discontinue boasting and complaining about it. She would do everything possible to remove her fingerprints from the whole thing.
Interestingly, as this realization hit her, she felt surprisingly free inside. Like a weight had been lifted. Suddenly now she wanted to read the rest of the Scripture Abby had given her. So she continued to read, slowly taking in the words of what she decided must be the best chapter in the whole Bible. Why had she never read it before? In the middle of everything was the Lord’s Prayer, something she knew from years of attending church, but seldom prayed with genuine sincerity.
She felt another jolt of reality as she read the verses reminding her that God was far more important than money. She knew this in her head . . . but in her heart? Not so much. In fact, this was exactly what had been coming between her and Joel of late. They’d been fighting over the expenses of the twins’ tuition. Beating each other up and making each other miserable when they should’ve been trusting God instead. She wondered what Joel would think about these Scriptures.
Finally, she came to the end of the chapter. These warnings were in regard to worrying. This really hit home with her. So much of her life had become wrapped in worry during the past several y
ears. It had started when she’d grown her design business from working out of her home to working downtown in her rather expensive studio. In fact, that was exactly why she was working today—simply because she was so anxious and worried about getting everything done on time. She stared at the verse that said not to worry about tomorrow—that each day had enough troubles of its own.
She shut the New Testament and closed her eyes. Could she even do that? Could she stop worrying? Could she trust God to take care of tomorrow? She knew what Abby would tell her right now—and that was what Grace did. She bowed her head and asked God to help her—she would need a lot of God’s help in order to put these principles into practice. But she knew she wanted to—from the bottom of her heart she wanted to.
As she said “amen” she heard the shrill call of the fire engine siren signaling that the Christmas parade was starting up on the other end of town. She went over to the window, suddenly remembering the times she’d taken the twins to the parade when they were small, and later on when she and Joel would go to watch the kids participating in a school float or drill team or marching band.
“Why am I still up here?” she asked herself. “If I’m trusting God for tomorrow, shouldn’t I be down there watching the Christmas parade today?” As minor as this decision would seem to anyone else, it felt like a very big deal to Grace. A big step in the right direction.
Grabbing her coat and scarf, she raced down the stairs and across the street to where Belinda and Savannah were already sitting in their camp chairs in front of Glad Rags with a thermos sitting between them.
“You decided to join us after all.” Belinda dragged a spare camp chair over to set up next to hers.
“Have some cocoa.” Savannah filled a cup, handing it to her.
Belinda pointed down the street to where the first float was coming. “You’re just in time.”
Grace sighed as she sniffed the cocoa. She was both just in time and a little late—but maybe she could start changing that now.
The Christmas Angel Project Page 10
