Christmas 2011 Trio A. Кейт Хьюит
Читать онлайн книгу.
assignment is to keep watch over Goodness and Mercy. Heaven knows, and I don’t mean that as a pun—” she paused and gave him a smug smile “—those two need looking after.”
“Indeed they do,” Gabriel agreed. “But it seems to me that you’ve taken part in their schemes a number of times.”
“Under protest,” Shirley rushed to explain. “I knew they were headed for trouble and I tried to warn them, but they wouldn’t listen to me. So what choice did I have?” She shook her head ruefully. “You can’t imagine the trouble I’ve saved you on other assignments. But I’m only one angel and there’s only so much I can do on my own.”
Gabriel didn’t need a reminder of the problems these three had caused. Yes, he did expect Shirley to be a supervisor of sorts for the other two, but as often as not they’d led her into temptation. Still …
“As the most responsible of the trio—”
“That would be me,” Shirley said, cutting him off. She folded her wings close to her back without revealing any degree of eagerness as Goodness and Mercy had done. Shirley was the picture of calm serenity, of unquestionable confidence.
“Let me point out the time limitations involved,” Gabriel said. “All three of you need to return to Heaven on Christmas Eve.” This shouldn’t come as any surprise, since it was one of the terms always set upon them during visits to Earth at this time of year.
A look of panic flashed into Shirley’s eyes. “That means we have barely a week by the earthly calendar.”
“Don’t forget, we need you back for the festivities,” Gabriel told her.
“Yes, of course.” She did seem unusually concerned with the temporal constraints, which he found odd, considering that they’d answered prayer requests in less time than that.
“If there are problems, I can come directly to you?” Shirley asked.
It went without saying that with Goodness and Mercy, there were bound to be problems. “Of course.”
On second thought, Gabriel wasn’t so sure of that. He’d seen compassion and a new depth in Mercy; she understood the seriousness of her assignment. Harry Alderwood’s days on Earth were few, and Mercy would have to convince Rosalie to move and at the same time prepare Harry for the crossing. Heaven awaited his arrival.
As far as Goodness went … That was an entirely different story. Beth Fischer had lessons to learn, obstacles to negotiate—obstacles of her own making. It might not be as easy as Goodness assumed to steer her toward the future. Gabriel would keep a close eye on this assignment.
And young Carter Jackson—this wasn’t an easy prayer request, either, despite what Shirley seemed to think. She might be a relatively senior angel, but she had a few lessons to learn herself.
“Can I see Carter?” Shirley asked.
“Of course.” As he’d done with the others, Gabriel parted the veil between the two realms and offered Shirley a chance to assess the situation.
Sitting at the breakfast table, Carter watched his parents closely.
“You remember this summer you said I could have a dog when I’m nine, Dad?” he asked, braving the subject dearest to his heart.
His dad exchanged a look with his mother. “I remember.”
“I’m nine now.”
His father put down his fork, and the careful way he laid it on the table told Carter this was going to be an important discussion. “Son, it hurts me to tell you this, but we can’t afford a dog.”
“Dad …”
“I’m sorry. I know you’ve been hoping to get a dog, but we can’t manage it financially, Carter.”
Despite his efforts, Carter’s eyes filled with tears and everything in the room went blurry. His mother came to stand behind him. Embarrassed to be caught crying, Carter wiped his face with his sleeve and gulped several times.
“As soon as we can afford one, we’ll get you a dog,” she whispered, placing her hands on his shoulders. “We promise.”
“But you promised before,” Carter challenged. “You said I could have a dog when I turned nine. And then you said I had to wait until Christmas. And now …”
His father looked as sad as Carter had ever seen him. “I’m sorry, Carter. I’m doing the best I can, and so is your mother.”
Bailey had started to cry, too. Carter tried to stop, but all he could do was sniffle back the tears. He felt like running away from the table. He couldn’t eat.
“What about Grandma and Grandpa Parker?” he asked, clinging to the dream that his grandparents would give him the dog he so badly wanted.
“I’ve spoken to them,” his father said.
Carter felt hope spring to life as he held his breath, waiting to hear the verdict.
“If your grandparents buy you a dog, that’s just the beginning of what it’ll cost. There’s a whole lot more that goes along with owning a dog.”
“He could eat my food,” Carter insisted. He’d already considered this. “I don’t mind sharing.”
“Then there are shots.”
“I’ll take them,” Carter said. It didn’t matter how much they hurt, either.
“The shots are for the dog, Carter, and they’re expensive.”
“Oh.”
“There’s the license and obedience school and neutering and a dozen other costs. All of that would drain the family budget. It won’t be long, though. Okay?”
Carter wasn’t sure he should believe his father. “How long?”
“David.” His mother’s voice was soft and filled with warning, almost as if she feared his father would make another promise he couldn’t keep.
“I don’t know, but I promise that as soon as we can afford it, you’ll get your dog.”
That was the same thing his mother had said. Carter swallowed hard. He couldn’t ask his father’s parents. They lived back east and they mailed their gifts, which had arrived last week. The gaily wrapped presents were arranged on the coffee table with a miniature Christmas tree his mother had bought at the grocery store for five dollars. His one hope had been Grandma and Grandpa Parker—his mom’s parents—and according to his father, it wasn’t going to happen.
His last chance, his only chance now, was God. And with everything inside him, Carter believed God would send him a dog.
Six
Rosalie Alderwood was humming “O Come, All Ye Faithful” in the kitchen while Harry watched the news on TV. This was Wednesday, their traditional shopping day, and the advertised grocery specials were in the morning paper. Soup was on special, tomato, his favorite, two cans for a dollar. So was ice cream—three half-gallons for only six dollars. The brand wasn’t his favorite but ice cream was ice cream, and Harry had always had a weakness for it. He didn’t have much appetite anymore, but the thought of chocolate ice cream was appealing.
For years—ever since his retirement—Harry and Rosalie had done their grocery-shopping in the middle of the week.
“Should I get the car warmed up?” Harry asked. He’d put off the conversation with his daughters about selling it; maybe he’d call them tonight.
“Good idea.” Rosalie came to stand in front of him, a dish towel in her hand, and glanced at the advertisements in the paper, spread out on the coffee table.
“You’ll want to get a few cans of the tomato soup that’s on special,” he said.
“Yes,”