Those Christmas Angels (Angels Everywhere #5)(93)

Slowly Rosalie lowered her gaze and conceded. “And me.”

This was the first time she’d been willing to admit that age had taken a toll on her, too. As far as Harry was concerned, it was a giant leap forward.

“We should ask the girls,” she said tentatively.

“Good idea.” Their youngest daughter was coming to spend Christmas with them, and Lorraine and family would arrive the day after. Both his daughters agreed with Harry. Like him, they recognized the necessity of this change, even if they hadn’t quite grasped its urgency.

Harry knew that if Rosalie discussed the situation with either Lorraine or Donna, their daughters would reassure her in ways he couldn’t. He felt it was only a matter of time. God willing, everything would fall into place….

“I don’t want to discuss it again until after Christmas, though,” Rosalie insisted. “I won’t even talk about moving until the holidays are over.”

“But, Rosalie, there’s only the one unit,” he blurted out. “Unless we give the administrator a security check, someone else might take it.”

“Then so be it,” she said, missing the point that he’d talked to the administrator without her knowledge.

“Mrs. Goldsmith told me there’s another party interested.” A sense of dread almost overwhelmed him. If they didn’t act quickly, the unit would go to some other couple.

“Of course she told you that,” Rosalie said with unshakable confidence. “That’s what she’s supposed to say. It’s a tactic, Harry. You, of all people, should know the things people will say when they’re after a sale.”

Frustration beat hard against his chest. “But, Rosalie….”

“Harry, sweetheart, don’t be so concerned. If we lose this unit, another will come up later.”

Without telling her what Dr. Snellgrove had said, Harry had no choice but to agree. “Personally, I’d like this all settled before the holidays.”

“Do you mind if we wait?” Rosalie asked. “It won’t make any difference, will it?”

“I suppose you’re right,” he said reluctantly. “It doesn’t really matter.” Only it did, but Harry couldn’t find it in his heart to tell her why.

Harry left the table and as much as he hated his walker, he reached for it. The damn thing was a nuisance, but at this stage it was a necessary one.

“The girls could help us move while they’re here.” He made the suggestion as he settled back into his recliner.

“Not over Christmas, Harry. Please, sweetheart, I don’t want to ask that of them.”

He nodded. He wouldn’t mention it again. Not tonight.

“It doesn’t look good,” Shirley had the audacity to say.

“Rosalie wants to wait until after Christmas.”

Mercy didn’t know what to do. “That won’t work.”

“Why not?” Both her friends turned to face her.

Mercy sighed, more burdened now than ever. “Because Harry will be in Heaven by then.”

Ten

Joyce Fischer had found a table at the ultra-busy Nordstrom Café by the time Beth got to the store. As soon as she appeared, her mother waved to catch her attention.

Beth felt wonderful and couldn’t have disguised her mood had she tried.

“Hello, Mom,” she said, giving her mother a quick hug.

“I took the liberty of ordering for you, dear. I just got two of what we usually order.”

“That’s fine.” Beth only had an hour for lunch and although she would’ve liked to try something new rather than her standard soup du jour and turkey sandwich, she didn’t object.

Taking off her coat, Beth draped it over her chair.

“You’re positively glowing. What’s going on?” Her mother looked like she was about to rub her hands together in glee. “Is it that young man from the computer game?”

“We’re going to meet.” Beth wasn’t sure how and why the situation had changed. Just as she was losing hope that they’d ever take a chance, Peter had stepped forward. Without understanding why it had happened, she realized that a transformation had taken place.

They’d logged on to play World of Warcraft last night and after a while had started exchanging messages again. In the beginning it wasn’t anything special, just their normal chitchat. Then out of the blue Peter had made a startling admission.

“He’s divorced,” Beth informed her mother.

“Well, dear, so are you.”

“I know…That’s not the point. Peter and I were talking.”

“On the phone?”

“No, no, online. That’s the only way we’ve communicated so far.”

Her mother frowned, then decided not to make whatever comment hovered on the tip of her tongue. “Go on,” she urged instead. “I want to hear everything.”

“Well,” Beth said, eager now. “He told me that it’s taken him some time to get over the divorce, but he thinks he’s ready to move on.”

“How long has it been?” her mother asked. “I mean, since his divorce was final.”

Beth frowned. Her mother was right; that was an important question. “I didn’t ask him.”

“You should, dear. If it’s been less than a year, it might be best to move slowly and carefully in this relationship.” Then, as if she regretted having given advice, she shook her head. “Follow your heart. Don’t listen to a thing I say.”