A Mrs. Miracle Christmas(43)
Helen cupped her mouth to smother her laugh. She’d met gloomy people like that over the years—those who always looked at the glass as half-empty, no matter how big the glass, or how full it was already.
“Do you sing?” Helen asked.
“Some,” Mrs. Miracle admitted, “but not much. God gave me other talents.”
“There’s singing in heaven, isn’t there?” Helen could only imagine how beautiful it must sound.
“Oh yes, but the music is out of this world. You can’t compare it to what you hear on earth. There’s no possible way to describe heaven’s music.”
“I’ll hear it myself one day.”
Mrs. Miracle placed her hand over Helen’s and gave it a gentle squeeze, “Yes, you will.”
After saying her good-byes, Mrs. Miracle collected her coat and purse and left the house. Helen took a short catnap in her favorite chair while Laurel remained in the kitchen. The next thing she knew, Laurel was bringing her lunch.
“I made your recipe for beef barley soup,” she said, setting a bowl on the television tray in front of Helen.
“I didn’t mean to sleep so long, and I don’t like you waiting on me like this,” she protested. “I can come to the table.”
“Stay right where you are,” Laurel insisted. “I know Mrs. Miracle served you lunch every day. I can do the same.”
“Then you need to sit and join me, just as she did. If it’s all right, I think I’ll head over to the senior center this afternoon. Today is bingo and I’m feeling lucky.”
“Of course. I’ll walk over with you.” Laurel brought out a second television tray and sat next to Helen with her own lunch. She blew on the spoon to cool down the hot soup. “You’re going to miss Mrs. Miracle, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Helen admitted. “She hasn’t been with me for long, but she has had a strong impact on us all.”
“Yes, she has,” Laurel agreed, smiling.
* * *
—
Laurel walked the short three blocks to the senior center with her grandmother. When they entered the facility, Helen was greeted by three men, who all vied to be the one to pull out her chair at the long table set with the bingo cards. Helen found it amusing. Laurel observed her grandmother with a new set of eyes—she truly was an attractive woman.
“Your grandmother has been turning heads ever since she set foot in the center,” a woman commented, coming over to greet Laurel. “I’m Mary Lou. I used to live three houses down the street from where you live now. Your mother, Kelly, and my Julie used to play together as children. We moved when the girls started high school.”
Laurel smiled indulgently, pleased that her grandmother had reconnected with her friend.
“I was happy to find Helen coming to the center. It’s been so good getting reacquainted with her.”
“I’m pleased to meet you,” Laurel said, glancing around the room, which was filling with seniors carting their bingo gear. This was apparently a hot game.
Mary Lou offered to drop Helen back at the house following bingo, so after a few minutes to make sure Nana had settled in with her friend, Laurel returned home.
* * *
—
There would be no tubs of licorice for Helen today, as Lady Luck wasn’t on her side. She and Mary Lou chatted all the way home. Mary Lou promised to collect her after the holidays were over for the Zumba class being held every Monday morning at the senior center.
That night, Helen’s dreams had been full of Robert. As she slowly awoke in the morning, she clung to remnants of the dream, letting them linger. How she missed her husband. He’d always made Christmas special for her, decorating the outside of the house with a multitude of lights. Helen had loved how they brightened the house, and how, in the darkest part of winter, the lights cheered her and brought her joy. Robert knew that and was willing to put in long hours in the cold, climbing up and down the ladder, stringing lights around their roofline and all of the outside trees, because he loved his wife.
When it came to gift-giving, Robert had sincerely tried to find something special that he knew would please her, even when their budget was tight. Helen had never complained when he’d chosen household appliances as gifts instead of something more personal. The real gift, in Helen’s mind, was his love and those outside lights.
This was the same love she now saw flowing between Zach and Laurel. No matter what the future held, she knew that it would be with them as it had been with her and Robert, the man who had been her soulmate, the love of her life.
Helen joined the young couple for breakfast, and she felt she needed to let Zach know that she’d invited her home companion to the upcoming Christmas Eve candlelight service.
“I hope you don’t care that she’ll be joining us.”
“Why would I? Mrs. Miracle is more than welcome.”
Reaching for a slice of toast, Helen kept her eyes lowered to hide a smile. “I understand the choir is in tip-top shape, rehearsing their hearts out. We bumped into one of the ladies from church on our walk the other day, and she said the choir had never sounded better.”
“Really?” Laurel replied. “The last I heard, Mrs. Nelson was desperately searching for additional altos. Mrs. Murphy is joining her children in New York for the holidays, and both Alice Knight and Brenda Nichols have that awful flu bug that’s going around.” Their neighborhood church choir was small, and a few missing voices could make a world of difference.