The Trouble with Angels

Page 28

"But you just got home.”

"Yes, I know.”

"But, Dad, I need to talk to you.”

It was unusual for Joe to raise his voice. "All right, son.” Paul pulled out a chair. "Let’s both sit down and we’ll talk.”

Joe and Annie sat across the table from him. They joined their hands, and Paul noticed that his son’s gaze couldn’t seem to settle in any one place, as if the subject he wanted to discuss made him uncomfortable.

"Dad, Annie and I were thinking about heading to Oregon in the morning,” Joe announced without preamble.

The news hit Paul like a rock square in the chest. Joe leaving, with Annie. So soon. It seemed he’d barely arrived. They’d barely had a chance to talk.

All the things he’d planned with his son had fallen by the wayside. The anticipation, the excitement and energy, had been for naught. Joe had his own life, and he didn’t need his father messing it up.

"You don’t mind, do you?” Annie asked in that velvety sweet voice of hers.

"Of course not. There’s not that much to do around here, and I imagine you’re anxious to see your family.”

The young woman brightened immediately. "I swear my mother’s been cooking all week. She can’t wait for us to arrive so she can introduce Joe to all my relatives.”

"But, Dad, we won’t go if you’d rather we stayed here with you,” Joe was quick to add. "Then…” He let the rest fade, apparently unsure what to say.

"Don’t be silly,” Paul said, making light of his disappointment. "There’s nothing going on here.” He imagined the two young people were bored.

Joe looked down at his hands as if he weren’t sure he was doing the right thing. "The Christmas decorations are all up, and you’ll be with Bethany and Eric, and—”

"It’s fine, son, don’t worry about me.”

"Annie and I put a couple of presents to you under the tree,” Joe said next.

Gifts. Sweet heaven, Paul hadn’t purchased a thing for the two of them. Or anyone else, for that matter. He hadn’t given a thought to buying Christmas gifts. Barbara had always seen to the task, and he’d been so plagued with his own troubles that it had slipped his mind. He felt like an utter fool.

"You didn’t need to do that,” he told his son and Annie. He really did wish that the two had saved their money. They needed it for college expenses, and if they were getting married the following summer, well, they should be saving what little funds they had for their wedding. But he said none of this.

The minute he could, Paul escaped the house and hurried over to the church office. He nearly stumbled over a chair on the way to his desk in his hurry to reach the phone.

Funny, he’d worked with Leta Johnson more years than he could remember, and he couldn’t recall ever phoning her at home. Yet she was the first person he thought to contact.

She answered on the first ring. "Hello.”

"Leta, it’s Paul Morris. I’m sorry to call you unexpectedly like this, but I need a favor.”

"Of course.”

"Joe and Annie are leaving for Eugene in the morning. I seem to have put everything off until the last minute, and I don’t have any gifts for them.”

"What is it you want me to do?” Leta asked.

Paul swore the woman was dense. "I don’t know about buying gifts, especially for a young woman. I’m asking that you go out and purchase whatever you think would be appropriate and wrap the presents for me.”

His words were followed by a long silence.

"If you’d given me a bit more notice, I might have been able to help,” Leta said without censure, "but I already have plans for this evening.”

Paul sank onto the chair, thoroughly discouraged. He’d counted on Leta to come to his rescue the way she had a thousand times before. "Barbara was one who saw to gift buying,” he murmured. "I wouldn’t have a clue what to purchase for a young woman.”

"I’m sure the sales clerks will be more than happy to help you.”

Paul didn’t share her confidence. "There isn’t any way you could change your plans?” he asked hopefully.

If Barbara had been his right hand all those years, then Leta was of equal value when it came to church matters. In some ways she knew more about the inner workings of his church than he did himself. He had come to rely on her more and more of late, perhaps too much.

"I’m sorry, Paul,” she said after a moment.

He heard the regret in her voice, and something else. Sadness? Paul couldn’t be sure.

"I can’t help you this time.”

"I understand.” He replaced the headpiece and leaned forward and propped his elbows against his desk top. Well, she’d certainly told him. He strongly suspected that he deserved it. Heaven help him, he’d do what he could to buy his children Christmas gifts. It would have been much easier if Leta had agreed to do it for him.

"Mercy, just exactly what are you doing?”

The prayer ambassador looked up from her perch on top of the elevator and examined the ends of her fingernails. "Doing?”

"Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, either,” Goodness cried.

"I’m not.” Mercy checked the peephole. Joy and Ted still weren’t talking to each other. The last ten minutes had been spent in complete silence.

"I need you to do something for me,” Goodness said frantically. Mercy might have been swayed, but she knew her friend all too well, and dear, dear Goodness had a flair for drama. Her fellow prayer ambassador tended to exaggerate everything.