A Mrs. Miracle Christmas(33)

As though reading her thoughts, Mrs. Miracle held up her hand. “No worries, love. I’m afraid I might have brought this on myself.”

“You? What could you have possibly done to warrant this?”

Leaning back in her chair, the other woman sobered. “I mentioned something to Zach that I should have kept to myself. That young man is a quick study. Don’t worry, Helen, there’s no need for concern. It’s being handled. All is well.”

    That left Helen with even more questions. “Did you slip and tell him about the baby?”

“No, not directly. It was something I implied. Some mention of the future, but Zach picked up on it right away. I’m afraid there are times when my tongue gets ahead of my brain.”

“But…”

“Yes, yes, I know. I’m an angel, but when I hang with humans for long, I seem to pick up a few of your less favorable human traits. Saying more than I should is one of them.”

“Really? What did you let slip?”

“Well, for one,” she said thoughtfully, tapping her index finger against her lower lip, “I should never have told you about Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy. At times, and this is embarrassing to admit, I forget I’m an angel. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I fear it’s true. And at other times, I overstep my boundaries. That’s what happened with Zach.”

“Overstep? How so?”

“I knew you were going to ask me that,” Mrs. Miracle said, looking chagrined. She smoothed out the napkin on her lap, avoiding eye contact. “It’s all due to what happened earlier in the week. I’m afraid I laid it on rather thick.”

Clearly more had been going on than Helen knew.

    “I arranged for Zach to buy baby clothes, with Mercy’s help. Then I heard from Mercy that he’d prayed for a sign from God that he was doing the right thing, so the two of us conspired to answer his prayer. That’s how he ended up with a box of cigars individually wrapped with pink IT’S A GIRL labels at the gift exchange. It was a bit over the top, now that I look back on it.” She paused and giggled. “I just couldn’t help myself, and Mercy was all in. I thought it was the perfect answer to his doubts.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I think the box of cigars was a nice touch,” Helen said.

“Perhaps, but later when he came home, I implied to him what he’d received that afternoon in the exchange was something he’d be able to put to good use in the future. The way Zach saw it, I shouldn’t have had any way of knowing what that gift was. See now? I was getting ahead of myself, yet again. That aroused his suspicions, which is why he asked Laurel to contact the agency.”

While her friend didn’t appear overly distressed, Helen worried about the possible consequences of such a call. After all, Helen was no longer convinced that Mrs. Miracle had arrived by conventional hiring practices.

“Will Laurel discover something you’d rather she not?” Helen asked, rubbing her hands together in nervous agitation.

    “Well…possibly. The agency that sent me isn’t exactly the one your granddaughter first contacted.”

“I didn’t think it would be. Is there any way to divert the call to the…the ‘proper’ channels?”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way, especially if you’re an angel. My friend Shirley—Shirley of the ‘Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy’ stories I’ve mentioned—took care of the matter. She’s stepping in as a receptionist and will answer Laurel’s questions. I am confident Laurel will be reassured, although I’m upset with myself.”

“Whatever for?”

“Sometimes I simply can’t help myself,” Mrs. Miracle added. “Zach needed confirmation and he got it, thanks in large part to Mercy. I should have left matters alone. That’s another unfortunate human trait I’ve acquired while on earth: impatience.”

“Will I have the opportunity to meet your angel friends someday? You’ve told me so much about them.”

“All in good time, my dear. All in good time.”

“And I’ll have the chance to hold my great-granddaughter in my arms, won’t I?”

“Oh yes, and she’s going to love you, as much as Laurel does.”

To know that she would have the opportunity to see the joy on Laurel’s face as she held her daughter in her arms—a baby who wouldn’t be taken away—was far more than Helen had prayed for.

    The two moved into the living room and began to work on their knitting projects, chatting about the future as Helen’s fingers worked the pink yarn into what would be a blanket for her great-granddaughter. She knit with a sense of purpose, wanting it to be ready for the baby.



* * *



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Laurel waited until lunchtime before she placed a call to Caring Angels. She closed the door to her classroom so she wouldn’t be interrupted, and took out the business card Mrs. Miracle had given her with the agency phone number on it

“Caring Angels,” the receptionist answered in a professional yet cheerful tone. “This is Shirley. How may I help you?”

“Shirley,” Laurel repeated, wondering how best to start this awkward conversation. “This is Laurel McCullough. I don’t recall speaking with you when I originally contacted the agency. I believe it was a Ms. Jones. Elise, if I’m not mistaken. Is she available to answer a few questions?”