got to do something.” Shirley was back to her pacing in front of the Wilcoffs’ Christmas tree. The living room was empty, with Julie in her room and Dean overseeing a last-minute security check of the Fletcher building.
“This is your fault,” Goodness said, glaring at Mercy. “If you hadn’t been so busy tossing salmon in Pike Place Market and holding security guards by the knees, we might’ve made some headway.”
“Give it up,” Mercy growled. “Besides, we both know you had a hand on Jason, too. I couldn’t have held him back all by myself. That guy has muscles.”
“Stop.” Shirley planted herself between the other two and shook her head. “We don’t have time to play the blame game.”
“You’re telling me,” Goodness moaned. “It’s already five o’clock.”
“That means we have seven paltry hours,” Shirley said, glancing at the old-fashioned clock on the fireplace mantel.
“Woe is we.” Goodness couldn’t believe that a prayer request could go so wrong. They’d worked harder on this one than on any previous request. In years past, they’d each received separate assignments, but she’d assumed that with their combined efforts this one would’ve been simplicity itself. Not so. And if there was anything Goodness hated, it was having to admit she’d failed. “We’ve just got to do something.” They had a few hours left. Just a few.
“But what?” Mercy cried.
“Think,” Shirley ordered. “There’s a way. There’s always a way.”
Defeated and depressed, Goodness walked into the darkened kitchen and threw open the refrigerator door. For a long moment, she studied the contents. It was easy to understand why so many humans turned to food for comfort. A pan of something dipped in chocolate was bound to improve any situation.
“I had hope until Roy threw out her letter,” Mercy said. “Without reading it.”
“How could he?” Shirley asked, although the question was rhetorical. “I thought humans were curious about things.” That was a characteristic they shared with angels.
“I’m sure he was tempted,” Shirley said, sadness weighting her words. “However, his fear was even stronger.”
“He was afraid?” Goodness was unable to decipher human reasoning. “Of what?”
“Of changing his mind,” Shirley explained. “He knew if he read Julie’s letter, he might be swayed. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t hold on to his anger if he allowed himself to feel her love.”
“But love is what he needs!”
Goodness wanted to weep with frustration. Shirley was right. Roy had closed himself off from love, even though he needed it, even though he wanted it. He equated love with pain. Opening his heart made him vulnerable, and he couldn’t risk that after what his father and Aimee had done.
“I’d so hoped for a better outcome,” Shirley murmured forlornly, “especially for Anne’s sake.”
“Anne,” Goodness repeated, remembering Shirley’s previous connection to Roy’s mother. She studied the former Guardian Angel and detected a suspicious smile in her eyes. Quickly Shirley looked away.
“Shirley,” Goodness pressed, certain now that her friend was up to something, “you’re holding out on us.”
“Shirley?” Mercy joined in. “What did you do?”
A giggle escaped, followed by another. “I made a quick trip to New York, and … well, you’ll see soon enough.”
“Tell us!”
“And ruin the surprise?”
“Does it have to do with Roy and Julie?”
The laughter in Shirley’s eyes faded. “Sorry, no.”
“With Anne?”
The humor was back and she nodded. “All in good time, my friends, all in good time.”
“But what are we going to do about Roy and Julie?” Even with the clock ticking away the last hours, Goodness refused to give up. Somehow or other, they had to accomplish their goal.
“That letter could always find its way back into his life,” Goodness suggested. Of course, that might entail a bit of detective work …
“I will serve the Lord with my whole heart,” Mercy said,
“but I am not digging around in someone’s garbage. That just isn’t me.”
“You would if it meant we could answer this prayer request, wouldn’t you?”
Mercy looked uncertain. With her arms crossed, she cocked her head to one side and shrugged. “Well … maybe.”
“Then let’s get to it,” Goodness said with renewed hope. “We’ll find the letter, and we’ll make sure he reads it.”
“How are we going to do that?” Shirley asked.
“We’ll figure it out when the time comes,” Mercy assured her. “You can’t expect us to have all the answers, can you?”
“I don’t expect all the answers,” Goodness said, “but one answer would be nice.”
“Why make things easy?” Mercy asked pertly.
“Right.”
With renewed purpose the three hurried to Roy’s condo. This was their last chance, and they had to make it work.
Roy picked up the remote control and automatically flipped through the channels. He didn’t stay on any one for more than a few seconds. His patience was nonexistent, and his irritation mounted by the minute. Roy didn’t understand why he felt like this. He should be thrilled. His company had just had its best year to date. When any number of dot-com businesses were fast becoming dot-gone businesses, his own was thriving. Money and happiness, however, didn’t seem to be connected.
Roy had dreaded spending Christmas with his mother. Being continually reminded of everything she’d lost in the divorce was too much for him, especially during the holiday season. Pretending was beyond him. Now she was in New York with her college friend and he could do as he pleased.
Only nothing pleased him.
“What did you do in other years?” he asked himself out loud.
Work had dominated his life for so long that he had no idea how to relax. Christmas Eve should be special in some way, except it wasn’t. If he was with Julie, it would be … He refused to think about Julie. She was out of his life and he was out of hers. Good. That was exactly how he wanted it.
With nothing on television to intrigue him, Roy sat down at his computer. Because he felt he should know what was going on in the world, he left the local news channel playing in the background. He decided to surf the Internet. Maybe he’d get so absorbed investigating
