Belinda scheduled the dress rehearsal for the fashion show for Wednesday morning. With about a week until Christmas, everyone was busy—including her—and it was tempting to skip a rehearsal. But she knew these girls needed serious coaching. Besides, she reminded herself as she drove over to the high school, where she’d arranged to use the auditorium, this was bigger than simply a fashion show.
By now she felt like she’d established some pretty good relationships with most of the girls. And she knew, after hearing some of their family histories, that these girls needed role models in their lives. Not that she’d ever considered herself a role model before. But after Remmie tearfully thanked her for helping her, saying that Belinda was the first person to take time like that with her, Belinda realized how important this fund-raiser really was.
Because school had already let out for Christmas break, Belinda could park right in front. As she walked up to the school, she saw Carey striding out to meet her. “I’ve already unlocked the auditorium,” he explained as he reached to carry the oversized bag she’d brought with her. “Most of the girls are there waiting for you.”
“Thanks.” She pulled her collar up against the cold, hastening her steps. “Hopefully we can wrap it up before noon. At least that’s my goal.”
“Well, I’m here all day,” he said. “So take as long as you need. I doubt the girls will mind.” He grinned. “They seem to have fallen in love with you.”
She laughed. “Well, I’m pretty crazy about them too.” As he walked her to the auditorium, she told him a little about some of the girls and how they’d responded positively to their fashion show makeovers. “I’m so glad that I did them one at a time. That gave us the chance to get acquainted. And some of them really opened up.”
“That’s great.” He opened the door for her.
“Yeah, it’s really been fun.” She smiled, taking her bag from him. “Thanks for encouraging me to do it.”
“Thank you!” He tipped his head as several girls came rushing up to meet her. “Your fans await.”
She laughed as she went inside, greeting the girls. “Did the clothes make it here okay?” she asked as they walked up to the stage.
“Yeah, Savannah and a guy just brought the racks in.”
Belinda set her bag in one of the auditorium chairs, extracting her CD player and clipboard and a few other things. “Okay, let’s get this party started.”
As the last few stragglers arrived, Belinda began to organize the girls, explaining the order they would go in and that they’d have help changing outfits backstage. Then, talking a little about posture and poise and attitude, she gave them lessons on how to walk a runway.
“Have you done this before?” Kelsey asked with interest.
Belinda made an embarrassed smile. “Yeah, I did some runway modeling during beauty school. Helped to cover my tuition.”
The girls seemed impressed, which she decided was probably good since she really got their attention. She turned on the music and cranked it up, and the runway walking lessons began. Some girls really got it, attacking the runway with swagger and style, but others needed coaxing and encouragement. After about an hour, she felt like they’d made enough progress to move on to the dressing part of the dress rehearsal.
With only Savannah there to help her, it was a bit of a challenge, but she reminded the girls that her friends would be assisting behind the scenes on Saturday. After a rough first run-through, Belinda insisted they had to try again, and to her relief—although there were some good-natured complaints—no one really seemed to mind.
“I’m going to clock us this time,” she told them. “Hopefully we can keep it under ninety minutes.”
As the girls changed and strutted and changed again, Belinda tried to watch the process with objective eyes. And, honestly, she was worried. As hard as she’d tried to make this fashion show into a success, she felt uneasy. The girls were amateurs at best, and the outfits were, well, secondhand clothes. The whole thing, for all she knew, could fall totally flat.
As they were wrapping it up, she tried not to focus on all that was wrong—which seemed to be plenty. Instead, she would have to hope for the best and pray that the girls had an enjoyable time and that the attendees of the fashion show would not be disappointed. From what she could tell, ticket sales had been strong. She wasn’t sure why or how that had happened, but she was impressed—and terrified.
“I want to go through one last runway strut,” she told the girls after they were back in their own clothes. “Just so that you can have it fixed in your minds. And I want everyone to promise me to practice your strut at home. I want you all to be in fine strutting shape by Saturday. Okay?”
They all agreed, and she turned on the music again. Like before, she started them out, strutting her stuff like she was a supermodel at New York Fashion Week. The girls all clapped and then, one by one, imitated her. Finally, as if to reward them for their efforts, she did one final strut, laughing to herself as she realized that, at forty-five, she was a bit long in the tooth for modeling. Still it was fun. As she made her final turn at the end of her run, she heard the sound of enthusiastic clapping down in the auditorium.
“Mr. Trellis,” someone called out. “Have you been watching us this whole time?”
He laughed. “No, I just stepped in.”
Feeling embarrassed, Belinda turned off the music.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he called out.
“It’s okay,” she called back. “We’re finishing up.” She went down the stairs to join him, speaking loudly so that the girls could hear. “The models are fabulous. I think they’re ready for Saturday.”
“That’s great.” He lowered his voice. “I actually stopped by to see if you had time to go to coffee with me—I mean, if you’re done here. I don’t want to rush you.”
Was he asking her out? Her usual reaction to male attention like that was to make up an excuse. She’d been doing it for years. But seeing the hopeful expression in his eyes, and realizing that perhaps he wanted to discuss the girls and the fashion show, she accepted. “Let me have a last word with the girls and get my stuff,” she said quietly, “and I’ll meet you out by the administration office, okay?”
He nodded. “See you then.”
Belinda gave the girls one last pep talk, then talked to Savannah about getting the clothes back to the shop and finally headed out to meet Carey. As she walked across the campus she felt a mixture of anticipation and nerves. Even if this wasn’t a date per se, she knew that a part of her wanted it to be. And yet another part of her wanted to stick with her status quo. She was comfortable as a single woman. She was strong and independent and liked doing what she wanted to do when she wanted to do it. At least that was what she usually told herself—and anyone else who wanted to know. But the truth was she was lonely too. Especially since Emma went off to college three years ago.
Suddenly Belinda remembered her angel verse from Abby. God had good plans for her, plans for hope and a good future. What if those plans involved a man? Shouldn’t she be open to that? Still, she was reluctant to get her hopes up. Especially with someone like Carey Trellis. If he let her down, the fall would be painful.
As she neared the admin offices, she prayed a silent prayer. If Carey Trellis was truly part of God’s good plans for her, God would have to make it happen. She sure couldn’t. But knowing that helped her to relax some as Carey came out to meet her.
“I thought we could walk over to Starbucks,” he said as he joined her. “That is, if you’re warm enough.” He checked her out more closely. “And if those stylish boots are good for walking.”
She laughed. “Walking sounds lovely.”
As they walked, he expressed even more gratitude for her work with the girls. “Some of the staff gave me a bad time for caring about something as seemingly insignificant as the way some of these girls dress. They said I was opening a can of worms to do this. But I kept thinking that if they were my daughters, I’d want some
one to help them.”
“I know.” She nodded as they waited to cross the street. “I actually started Glad Rags because I was so unhappy with the way my daughter, Emma, and her friends were dressing when they were in middle school. Their excuse was that it was too expensive to dress stylishly—whatever that was back then. So I decided to show them how they could use redesigned resale clothes to have a really unique look.”
“How old is your daughter?” he asked.
“Twenty. She’s in her junior year at college.”
He turned to look curiously at her. “You don’t look old enough.”
“Thanks. I was only twelve when I had her.” She laughed. “Joking. I was actually in my early twenties.” She suddenly regretted this. Why was she telling him her age? “What about you? Any kids?”
“We wanted to, but I insisted on waiting until we were both done with college and settled into good jobs. After that, Marley’s illness made it impossible.” He paused in front of Starbucks to open the door for her. “Sometimes I think that was a mistake.”
“That old 20/20 hindsight,” she said as they went inside.
Before long they were seated at a table and, as they sipped their coffees, they both began to open up, telling their stories and how they had reached the place in life where they were. Belinda didn’t go into all the details of her failed marriage. “Suffice it to say that my ex didn’t want to be married with children. He went his way and I stayed here. I don’t really have regrets. I used to. But then I realized that my rotten marriage gave me Emma. She’s worth it all.” Belinda told him a bit more about Emma and all her accomplishments, and how proud she was of her girl.
He smiled. “She sounds like a lovely person.”
Belinda’s smile faded. “I’m just sad that she’s not coming home for Christmas.”
“Why not?”
“The boyfriend.” Belinda grimaced. “And I really can’t complain. Archer is a really great guy and I wouldn’t be surprised if they get married. She’s going home with him—to Connecticut—to meet Archer’s family.”
“So you’re alone at Christmas?”
She sighed. “I would’ve gone to Abby and Clayton’s, but Abby passed on.” She looked down at her coffee, wondering why she was divulging so much.
“I’m alone at Christmas too,” he said glumly. “My family is all in Southern California, and after this move and buying a house, it’s not in the budget to go down there this year.”
“I have some single friends,” she said suddenly—without really thinking it through, although Cassidy and Louisa did come to mind. “I was considering inviting them to my place for Christmas. Maybe you could join us.”
He brightened. “That’d be great. Thanks, I’d like that.”
Now she’d gone and done it—Carey Trellis was coming to her house for Christmas. Hopefully he hadn’t agreed out of plain old pity. And hopefully Louisa and Cassidy hadn’t made plans yet. Belinda had less than a week to figure it all out. Or cancel. She could always cancel.
13
On Wednesday afternoon, Grace knew it was only a matter of time before her house would become busy and noisy again—the twins would be home from college tomorrow evening and, knowing them, a bunch of their friends would be hanging out there too. And although Grace had apologized to Joel for several things, she still hadn’t had a good opportunity to tell him about what was going on inside her. She wanted the chance to do that before her house turned into Grand Central Station.
That was why she called Joel from work, making sure that he would be home by a decent hour and informing him that she would be fixing dinner. “Just for the two of us,” she said in a mysterious tone.
“That sounds interesting.” But she could hear the question mark in his voice—as if he suspected she might have ulterior motives. As she put her phone away, she had to ask herself . . . Had she really been that manipulative? Was that how Joel perceived her?
As she drove home from the grocery store, she saw a few snowflakes flying. Were they really going to have a white Christmas like the weatherman had been predicting? Perhaps she should’ve stocked up more provisions. And what about the twins driving home tomorrow—what if they got stuck in a blizzard?
She pulled into her driveway, reminding herself of Matthew 6 and what it said about worrying. She needed to trust God for provision and protection—and stop fretting. She continued to remind herself of these things as she fixed a simple dinner for Joel and her. As tempting as it was to start obsessing over all the various details and demands of her life, she was determined to trust God. Otherwise, she felt certain she would completely lose it.
When Joel came home she greeted him with a hug and a kiss. “Did you see snow on your way home?” she asked.
He looked at her with a puzzled expression, like he was thinking, Who are you, and what have you done with my wife? Fortunately, he didn’t say this. “Yeah, some flakes were flying around out there. Hopefully it’ll hold out until the kids get home.”
“I’m sure they’ll be fine. Even if it does snow, it will be an adventure, right?”
He blinked as he removed his coat.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” she said as she went to check on the wild rice. “Just fish and veggies and rice. But I know you don’t like heavy dinners.”
“Sounds good.” He followed her into the kitchen. “You okay, Grace?”
She turned to smile at him. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s just that you’re acting weird.” He narrowed his eyes slightly. “Like you’re about to say something like, ‘We need to talk.’”
“Well, we do need to talk.”
He looked truly alarmed.
“Not like that,” she assured him. “I’m not about to run off and have an affair or anything stupid like that.”
“Oh . . . good.” He still looked perplexed as he pulled out a counter stool to sit before a small plate of appetizers she’d set out. “What’s up then?”
“There are some things I want to share with you,” she said mysteriously.
His brow creased with concern. “You’re not sick, are you? You’re not about to tell me you’ve got cancer or something?”
She patted his hand. “No, nothing like that. Don’t be such a worrier.”
He smiled. “Oh, that’s right. That’s your job. You’re the little worrywart.”
“Not anymore.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m trying to change some things.” Then, as they sat down to eat, she explained about Matthew 6 and her new outlook. She told him about the Habitat project and how she was trying to fly beneath the radar on it. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m responsible for it.”
“Because it’s so bad?” he questioned.
“No, it’s actually turning out really great. Miraculously great. But I want to give God the credit. That’s part of that Bible chapter. But it’s more than just that.” She told him about the money part. “I know that we used to say that we trusted God to provide for us. Back when we were newly married and broke. But somehow we kind of lost track of that. It’s like we started to believe we were in charge of everything. And we started to worry and fight and, well, it got very stressful.”
Joel nodded as he chewed. “I can’t disagree about the stressful part, but I’m not really sure how to do what you’re saying. We still have bills to pay, Grace. It’s not like we can just throw in the towel and give up. Expect God to drop down pennies from heaven.”
“I know. But I think I’ve come to realize that having my own design firm downtown might’ve been a bad idea.”
His eyes lit up. “Really?”
“I know, you always thought that from the start.” She tried to suppress her urge to defend herself.
“Not exactly. I mean, I always wanted you to do what made you happy, Grace. I knew you were a great designer. But the timing of it . . . well, you know. With the twins about to head to college and the real estate market
still slumping, I questioned it.”
“I know. And you were probably right.”
He stared at her with a bewildered look.
“The reality is that I’ve been more stressed than ever since I opened the design studio. Lately I’ve been wishing that I was still working from home. You know?”
“Well, you can always do that. I mean, if you want to, Grace. I won’t tell you what to do. I know how well that works.” He grinned.
They continued to talk—about their jobs, their lives, their kids, and money . . . and for the first time in ages, it felt like they were really connecting. Like it was old times.
“I sort of wish the twins weren’t coming home tomorrow,” he said as they were cleaning up the dinner dishes together. “I wouldn’t mind it just being me and you for a few more days.”
She laughed. “Well, they’ll be so busy with their friends, I wouldn’t be too concerned. And before you know it, they’ll be gone again anyway. We should enjoy them while they’re here.” She held up a finger. “And if you don’t mind, I would appreciate it if you didn’t harp on them about their grades too much. If you need to say something, why not get it over with as soon as they get here and then we can move on. I don’t want our time together to turn out like Thanksgiving. Okay?”
He nodded as he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her to him. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“I’ve missed you,” she said quietly.
“Me too.” He bent down to kiss her. “It’s been too long.”
Louisa felt inexplicably happy as she puttered around her house on Thursday afternoon. She knew that her lifted spirits were directly related to her art therapy class. She’d led the second one that morning and, to her delight, everyone from last week had showed up again. Their projects today had gone well—and the sharing was even better than the previous Thursday. The only downside was that they wouldn’t meet again for two weeks. But that was simply because of Christmas.
As she got her house ready for tonight’s angels’ meeting, with Christmas music playing on her ancient stereo, she felt that old spring in her step again. She paused to look at the Bible verse that she’d found tucked inside her angel ornament. She’d taped it to the refrigerator so that she could look at it frequently. It was Isaiah 40:31, and the promise was that those who hoped and waited on the Lord would fly like eagles—they would run without tiring and walk without getting weary.
The Christmas Angel Project Page 11
