The Trouble with Angels (Angels Everywhere #2)(65)

"I see.” Gabriel clasped his hands behind his back and walked around Goodness. "What efforts have you made to help him?”

"Ah…”

"I already know that you put the binder filled with his study notes back on the bookshelf. It’s something I would generally frown upon, but in this case, I believe it was the best thing to do.”

"You do?” Encouraged, Goodness raised her head an inch.

"I also know about your so-called miracle.”

Her head went back down.

"It didn’t work, did it?”

"No,” she admitted miserably. "I shone with the love of God so brightly, anyone else would have been blinded. Reverend Morris didn’t notice.”

"What have you done since?”

Goodness bit into her lower lip, afraid she’d disappointed Gabriel, destroyed his faith in her. "Nothing.”

"Nothing?”

"I’ve walked with him,” she explained, thinking how weak and useless that sounded. She waited for a chastisement, but when none came, she elaborated. "When he sat in the car alone and miserable, I sat with him. When he stood outside and waved good-bye to Joe and Annie. I waved with him.”

"And just now?”

"Just now,” she whispered, "I stood beside him in the middle of the church and held him upright.” Naturally Paul didn’t know that. If he wasn’t aware of her presence when she was full of the glory of the Lord, then he wouldn’t sense it when she stood silently at his side.

"You held him upright?”

"Yes.” Goodness was afraid she’d broken some rule she knew nothing about.

"That’s all he needs, Goodness. No tricks. No miracles. No shenanigans. You’re doing everything exactly right.”

"But he’s resigning from the church.”

Gabriel cocked one thick eyebrow. "Is he? Why don’t you go back and find that out for yourself?”

14

"Here, what do you think?” Joy asked, holding up a frilly pink dress that didn’t look big enough to fit a doll, let alone a child. The skirt had a white apron trimmed with a lacy ruffle. Just the sort of thing women, no matter what age, enjoyed dressing in.

"It’s pretty, but it’s not my color,” Ted teased.

"It’s not for you! The dress is perfect for my niece, Ellen Joy.” She added it to the stack of items in Ted’s arms.

They were Christmas shopping, and like every other man Ted knew, he wasn’t keen on crowds and malls. But he discovered that anything, even plowing his way through cranky last-minute shoppers, was fun with Joy.

"You’re not buying anything?” she commented.

"How can I, when you’re buying out the store?”

"Oh, dear, you’re right. I’ve been thoughtless, haven’t I? I dragged you into the children’s section and didn’t give you a chance to look for anything you wanted. I’ve been completely selfish.”

He stopped her by pressing a hand to her forearm. "I finished my shopping weeks ago.”

She looked at him and blinked as if she weren’t sure she’d heard him correctly. "You did?”

"You seem to forget I’m an engineer. I like my life neat and orderly…most of the time,” he amended. What he didn’t tell her was that a few years back he’d left everything until Christmas Eve. The only store open had been a corner grocery. No one could say his gifts hadn’t been creative. His boss had enjoyed the standing rib roast, and his grandmother had gotten a real kick out of the twelve pairs of multicolored panty hose. This year he’d ordered almost everything through a fancy mail-order catalog Blythe had recommended. It had been expensive, but hassle free.

"I love Christmas,” Joy said, and her eyes brightened.

Ted discovered he couldn’t be with Joy for any length of time and not want to kiss her. He couldn’t look at her and not be affected. He’d never felt this way about a woman, never been this keen for one’s company. It was as if were incomplete when they were apart.

For the last few months he’d assumed he was in love with Blythe. She was smart and energetic. He’d realized one day that thirty was fast approaching and had decided it was time he started thinking about settling down. He’d admired Blythe for her beauty and her brains. Not a bad start. It wasn’t until he’d spent time with Joy that he’d realized what the other woman was missing.

Heart.

Joy possessed a generosity of spirit that drew others to her the way a child is attracted to something bright and fun. Ted discovered that, like everyone else, he was no exception.

Every time he was with Joy, he came away feeling better about himself in some small way. This was her gift, her God-given talent: to draw out the best in others.

It didn’t surprise him that the residents at Wilshire Grove talked about her as if she were the greatest thing since the invention of the juicer.

"Uncle,” he muttered, shifting the load of goodies in his arms.

"You want to buy something for your uncle?” Joy asked.

"No, ‘uncle’ as in I need a break,” Ted said as if he’d already endured more than should be asked of any one male. "A man can only take so much of this shopping business.”

Ted didn’t know who it was who’d claimed women were the weaker sex, but apparently they’d never ventured into a shopping mall with one.