Touched by Angels (Angels Everywhere #3)(13)
Lies were like that, Mercy realized, and wondered why humans so readily fell into that trap. She’d seen for herself how lies tainted human lives. Would they never learn?
What had started out as a slight exaggeration on Jenny’s part had turned into a monster that separated her from those she loved most. All because she hadn’t wanted to disappoint her family. Instead she’d disappointed herself.
“This shouldn’t be so hard, should it?” Goodness said, looping her arm through Mercy’s. “From what we’ve seen, Jenny’s ready to give it up and head back to Montana all on her own. Not just for Christmas, either. After all the disappointment she’s suffered, she’s more than ready for the green, green pastures of home. I can’t say that I blame her. The time has come for her to face up to a few home truths.”
Gabriel’s brow rose as if Goodness’s insight surprised him, and Mercy’s friend beamed. “Is that a fact?”
“I wouldn’t be so fast to form an opinion about Jenny,” Gabriel warned. “She’s very talented. I shouldn’t need to remind you what God says about the desires of one’s heart.”
“You mean she isn’t ready to relinquish her dream?” Mercy asked. She’d read the situation the same as Goodness. It seemed all Jenny needed was one good excuse to pack her bags and head home to Montana. And to Trey, the young man who cared enough to pray for her return.
“I’m not here to answer those questions,” Gabriel said, “but I don’t think you should underestimate the power of a dream. Jenny has lived and breathed little else for three long years. It’s true she’s discouraged, but that doesn’t mean she’s willing to give up. You might be surprised to discover just how close she really is to seeing her name in lights. Don’t forget,” Gabriel warned, “that the darkest hour is just before dawn. She could be on the brink of something big.”
“Do you really think so?” Mercy felt the excitement churning inside her. But that enthusiasm slowly ground to a halt as she studied the archangel. “Is there something you know that we don’t?” Gabriel occasionally withheld information in a blatant effort to teach them a lesson. Mercy had long suspected it to be so.
“No,” the archangel assured them. “Just don’t be so quick to assume the obvious.”
“My oh my, she is talented,” Mercy admitted, watching her young charge’s agile leap across the stage.
It was at times like this that Jenny realized how badly she hungered for this dream. Once she stood on stage with the other dancers, her adrenaline started flowing, pumping her deflated hopes until they soared higher and higher.
This was where she belonged, where she longed to be. Her heart hummed with excitement, waiting for the opportunity to prove herself.
“Jenny Lancaster.” Her name was called by a man sitting in the theater seating. Since the lights blocked her view, the casting director was no more than a hoarse, detached voice. From her best guess, she figured he was somewhere in the first five or six rows.
Jenny stepped forward and handed the piano man her sheet music.
“What will you be singing?” asked the same uninterested voice.
She moved one step and peered into the dark. “ ‘Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina.’ “
“Fine. Give us your best eight bars.”
It was always the same. Rarely did it vary. Jenny suspected she could have sung a tune from a Sesame Street production and no one would have known the difference, least of all the casting director. He’d made up his mind even before her turn had come, even before she’d been given a chance to prove what she could do.
Argentina might not weep for her, but Jenny felt the tears welling up inside her. Tears of disappointment. Tears of struggle. Tears of a dream that refused to die.
The first chords from the piano filled the silence. Jenny hung her head and closed her eyes, allowing the music to transport her to another world. She drew in a deep breath and slowly lifted her head. No longer was Jenny Lancaster auditioning for a bit part; she was playing the role of her life. Within the magic of a few notes, she was transformed from a disillusioned waitress into the ambitious wife of a South American dictator.
“Wow.” Mercy was set back on her wings. “That girl can sing.”
“She is talented,” Shirley was quick to agree.
“Incredible.” Goodness seemed to be at a loss for words, which was completely unlike her.
Mercy knew she could accept no credit for Jenny’s skill; nevertheless she experienced a deep sense of pride that she should be assigned to this amazing young woman.
“Her voice, why, it’s almost . . .”
“Angelic,” Gabriel supplied, grinning broadly. It was a rare treat to find the archangel in such good spirits.
“Yes,” Mercy agreed. “Angelic.”
“You believe you can handle this request?” he questioned.
Mercy was sure she could. “Yes,” she assured him confidently. “Leave everything to me.” Somehow, some way, Mercy would come up with the means of helping Jenny fulfill her dreams. With a little help from her friends.
Anyone with this much talent, this much heart, deserved a break. A bit of intercession from the heavenly realm never hurt. Naturally Mercy wasn’t about to let Gabriel know her plans, but then what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.