Cupid's Christmas (Serendipity #3)(46)



Traci snickered and gave Ray a poke in the back.

“Now I’ve been blessed with another opportunity to be a wife to the man I love. Second chances don’t come around all that often. Can’t you please just be happy for me?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Ray mumbled. “If you’re happy then I’ll be happy for you.” His words had the sound of a forced apology, but the look of anger was no longer spread across his face. Ray shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “But, you can forget about my taking the house.”

“That’s not something you have to decide right now,” Eleanor smiled.

Ray moved to the side of his mother’s bed, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Mom,” he said, “…and yes, we’ll be there for Thanksgiving.”

No one noticed when John arrived, but apparently he’d been standing in the doorway long enough to hear something that made him smile. When he walked into the room, he looped his arm across Ray’s shoulder and gave a squeeze, “Welcome to the family,” he said.

Luckily Ray couldn’t see what he looked like because his ears had blossomed into the color of a scarlet rose.





It might look like everyone is coming out of this unscathed, but unfortunately that’s not quite true. For a while I figured The Boss was going to gloss over what I’d done to Life Management. I even started believing He might be in agreement with my opinion. Apparently not. He said He’d let it slide this time, but if I used the mega love zap on Life Management again, I’d find myself shoveling coal—I think you know what that means. To prove He meant business he gave me 684 cold case assignments. Every one of them a couple who’d been married for decades. “They’ve lost the joy of their love,” he said, “and it’s up to you to see that they get it back!”

I argued that I’m only supposed to handle matches, not repairs—He said to consider it a penance for the prank I pulled. Repairs are tough. They make working with someone like Lindsay seem like a piece of cake. Repairs involve humans with years of stored-up slights—forgotten anniversaries, busy schedules, arguments—the list is endless and with that kind of baggage they’re none too quick to forgive or forget. Not only do I have to rekindle all 684 love affairs, but I have to get it done by December thirty-first.

I guess this pretty much nixes any plans I had for a day off.





Eleanor



It’s odd how the worst of things sometimes work out to be the best that could have happened. I’d like to sound like the heroine of this story and tell you I was willing to give my life to save Lindsay’s, but the truth of the matter is, I didn’t have time to think about anything. When I saw that car coming toward her, I just did what any mother would do. Yes, I’m well aware that I’m not Lindsay’s mother, but try telling my heart that.

A few weeks back, I figured John and I might have to give up any idea we had about getting married, because both Lindsay and Ray were vehemently opposed to us even seeing each other. Things sure have changed. Oh, we’re not a full-fledged family yet, but at least we’re on the way to becoming one.

Although I’m not happy to see Lindsay with her leg in a big heavy cast, it’s way better than the alternative. And, selfish though it may sound, the accident did serve a purpose in bringing Ray around. He’s terribly stubborn and once he gets a hate in his heart, he just about never lets go of it. I honestly thought he’d stay mad at me forever. It’s sad how people like Ray can waste so much of their life being angry. They carry around a grudge and wait until the person dies before they can forgive and forget. And, by then it’s too late. Ray did that way with his daddy and when he came running to the hospital, I’ll bet he thought the same thing was going to happen with me.

When I started saying how Lindsay saved my life I spotted the look on her face and figured for sure she was gonna let the cat out of the bag, but apparently she caught on because she didn’t mention a word about how it happened the other way. I know Ray, and if for one minute he thought I risked my life to save Lindsay, he’d hate her and her daddy all the more. I’m not a big advocate of telling lies, but that one was my only shot at bringing Ray around, so I’m hoping it’s something The Lord can live with.

When I got home and started fixing for Thanksgiving Day, I thought back on how Ray sat all by himself at the barbeque. I sure didn’t want that to happen again. I told John he was gonna have to make sure Ray had a good time on Thanksgiving. Ray’s not much of a joiner, I said, so you may have to work to draw him into the conversation.

After everything that had happened, I was determined not to let anything spoil our Thanksgiving day, and nothing did—not my mismatched candles, not the missing cranberry sauce, and not even Ray.

Okay, I’ll admit I was a bit worried at first, because Ray walked in wearing that ‘I dare you to cross me’ look of his, but I nodded across the room and gave John the high sign. Next thing I know, he’s standing alongside Ray asking what he thinks of this year’s Philadelphia Eagles. After that they moved on to talking about football, basketball and the stock market. I had to chuckle when I heard them discussing the Daytona five-hundred, because that’s one sport John doesn’t know a thing about.

The one who really surprised me that day was Traci. The girl has never shown one iota of domesticity, and yet she spent most of the afternoon following me around the kitchen asking what ingredients go into one thing and another. She even wrote them down on a little notepad she pulled from her pocket. And, if that wasn’t surprise enough, right after dinner she asked if I’d teach her how to crochet a throw, I started wondering if she meant throw or baby blanket. Traci had a certain look, and it was a look I’m not usually wrong about.

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