Shirley, Goodness and Mercy (Angels Everywhere #4)(20)

“No wonder you weren’t listening earlier,” Sandy said, freeing herself from his embrace. “You had other things on your mind.”

“I’m sorry, honey.”

“You are going to help him, right?” Sandy was obviously seeking reassurance.

He nodded, still without looking at her.

“Fine. You’ll be busy with that, so let’s skip the practice. I’ll tell Evelyn we can’t do it.”

Evelyn was the choir director. “Can’t do what?”

“Go caroling Christmas Eve.”

“Just a minute,” Phil said. “Why not? We don’t have anything on the schedule, do we? None of the girls can come until Christmas morning.”

“You’re sure you still want to?” Sandy asked, sounding pleased.

“Very sure.”

“You’re just hoping to see that blonde again, aren’t you?” she teased.

The blonde he’d spoken with earlier in the week hadn’t shown up for practice the last two times, and Phil was growing discouraged. She hadn’t been a figment of his imagination, despite what Sandy claimed.

“Maybe I did just imagine her,” he said to appease Sandy. “I have to keep you on your toes, don’t I?”

“We’re going to be singing at the hospital Christmas Eve. San Francisco General.” Sandy eyed him as though expecting Phil to change his mind.

“That’s all right.” Not exactly his favorite place, but he could live with it.

Besides, singing carols for the sick was what Christmas was all about. This was the season of love and goodwill, and he had an abundant supply. Not for his brother, but that was Greg’s own fault. “As a man sows, so shall he reap.” That was somewhere in the Bible, and if anyone questioned his actions, Phil would happily quote it.

Oh, yes, his brother was getting exactly what he deserved.

Eight

Matthias stepped off the plane and walked through the long jetway to the terminal at San Francisco International Airport. He’d come to spend Christmas with his grandson, fearing it would be the boy’s last.

He spotted his daughter in the crowd and rushed toward her. “Gloria,” he whispered, hugging her close. She’d lost weight and looked pale and fragile. This was destroying her—to watch her son dying, one day at a time. Matthias remembered how emotionally drained he’d become when Mary had been so terribly ill. Gloria had suffered then, too—and now she had to go through all this grief and pain again…. How could she bear it?

“Oh, Daddy, I have wonderful news!” his daughter exclaimed. “A donor’s been found.”

The unexpected relief, the gratitude Matthias suddenly felt made him go weak. “Where?” he asked hoarsely. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know his name. He’s a stranger, someone who responded to the article in last week’s newspaper about the need for volunteers. Dr. Thorpe says he’s making the phone call this afternoon and the whole process should start before Christmas. Isn’t that wonderful? Oh, Daddy, I can’t tell you how happy I am!”

“It’s the best Christmas gift anyone could have given me.”

“Me, too.” Gloria’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “Dr. Thorpe says the match is an especially good one. He sounded really hopeful, Dad. He didn’t come right out and tell me this was going to save Tanner’s life, but it is, I know it is. My heart tells me everything’s going to be all right now.” No longer did she struggle to hold back the tears. They fell unrestrained down her cheeks.

“When can I see this grandson of mine?” Matthias asked, eager now to reach the hospital.

They chatted nonstop on the drive into the city. When they got to the hospital, they hurried to the eighth floor. Weak as he was, ten-year-old Tanner was sitting up in bed waiting for Matthias.

“Merry Christmas, Grandpa.” His pale face was wreathed in an extra-wide grin, although his eyes were sunken and shadowed.

“Merry Christmas, Tanner.” Matthias hugged his grandson, careful not to hurt the fragile little body. Seeing him like this was hard. So hard.

“Grandpa, are you crying?”

“It’s only because I’m happy.” Matthias glanced up and smiled apologetically at his daughter and the young nurse who stood beside her.

“Everything’s going to be all right now,” Gloria assured him again, and Matthias believed her. Everything was going to be better.

“Hello,” Greg snapped into the small cellular phone. He’d never enjoyed talking on the telephone and was particularly annoyed by these new-fangled cell things.

“Is this Greg Bennett?”

“Yes.” Again his voice was as sharp and short-tempered as he could make it. He was walking between the rows of dead and dying grapevines, recognizing with final certainty that nothing was salvageable. No one could save what had taken fifty years to build.

“This is Dr. Edward Thorpe from San Francisco General.”

Greg was so shocked he nearly dropped the phone. “Yes…Dr. Thorpe.”

“I was wondering if you’d be willing to come back to the hospital later this afternoon?” His voice was pleasant, smooth, and if Greg wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of relief, too.

“I’ll be there,” Greg told him immediately.