Truly Yours Contemporary Collection December 2014

by Joyce Livingston, Gail Sattler, Joyce Livingston

  “I can’t see anything.”

  She stepped closer and pushed the hair flatter. “There. See how it’s done?”

  “Yeah. I see how it’s made now.” Phillip looked up, about to comment that to make the hairpiece alone must have taken hours. Before he could speak, his breath caught in his throat. In order to show him how the hair was attached, Grace stood so close, he could see the variances of browns in her eyes.

  More than her eyes, while standing so close together, his attention fixated on her lips. Soft, full lips.

  Kissable lips.

  Almost as if the thought delivered a physical blow, Phillip stumbled back a step.

  “Phil?”

  His stomach churned as what he had been thinking rolled over in his head.

  He had wanted to kiss Grace. He still wanted to kiss her. And that was wrong.

  In order to refocus his thoughts, he tore his attention from her lips and concentrated on her eyes. Her beautiful, big, brown eyes. Limpid, thoughtful eyes. Eyes that shone with a gentle sweetness he’d never noticed before.

  Phil shook his head. “You know, I think I must be more tired than I thought.”

  Grace’s eyebrows knotted. “Are you okay, Phil? You are kind of flushed all of a sudden.”

  Before he realized what she was about to do, she pressed her palm to his forehead.

  Phillip backed up so quickly, he bumped into the table. With the movement, her hand dropped from his forehead, but his skin seemed to burn from her touch. “What are you doing?” he choked out.

  “Just checking to see if you’ve got a bit of a fever. You don’t seem warm to me, but your face is a bit red.”

  Phillip suddenly felt strange. He didn’t know if he was hot or cold, but suddenly the thought of shoveling the driveway held a lot of appeal.

  “Sorry about the coffee, Grace. I think I should go. If I don’t tackle that driveway tonight, it’s going to be a killer to do in the morning.”

  “The driveway? But. . .” Her voice trailed off as she looked over his shoulder at the window and the snow falling outside. She cleared her throat. “That’s okay. If you’re going to shovel snow, you might need something to keep you warm. Let me loan you a travel mug for the coffee, and you can take it home.”

  Phillip didn’t really want to borrow her mug, but he figured he would be out of there faster if he just accepted her offer rather than take the time to argue with her.

  At the door, he mumbled a quick thank-you, then waited politely while she, in turn, thanked him for loaning Dale to her for the previous night. She didn’t mention anything about Saturday, which was just as well for Phillip. He didn’t know if Neil had made plans with Grace, but just in case Neil hadn’t, Phillip didn’t want to hear that Grace would be home alone on Saturday night. He needed time to sort his wayward thoughts, so seeing her Sunday in church as originally planned would be soon enough.

  With a mug of coffee in one hand and the angel in the other, Phillip made his way to his car.

  Despite the blustery conditions, Phillip enjoyed the drive home. He liked the snow. Today, the snow served as a reminder that in less than a week it would be Thanksgiving, and following that, the advent of the Christmas season and everything that went with it.

  One thing that went with Christmas was winter, and winter meant shoveling snow.

  By the time Phillip arrived at home, the snow was ankle-deep on the driveway that Neil had shoveled only a few days ago. He tromped up to the front door but, instead of going inside, Phillip turned around to enjoy the sights of the snow falling in his neighborhood.

  The glow of the streetlights on the fresh falling snow lit the entire neighborhood, making everything clean and fresh as the new snow covered the old layer, which had become dirty since the last snowfall. White ribbons covered the tree branches, and all the houses were layered with white. Even the street was covered, the only thing marring the surface being Phillip’s own tire tracks, and soon they would be covered, too.

  Tomorrow, most of the driveways would be shoveled bare, and many yards would be decorated with lopsided snowmen fashioned by screeching children. For now, though, everything was smooth and fresh and quiet. The only sounds were the echoes of traffic in the distance, and Ralphie, his neighbor’s dog, barking as he jumped around in the snow.

  Phillip smiled as he sipped the coffee, remembering standing outside in such weather as a child, catching snowflakes on his tongue. Watching Ralphie running in circles, he wondered if dogs ever caught snowflakes on their tongues.

  Almost in answer to his question, Ralphie became aware of Phillip standing in the yard and watching him. The energetic mutt lost interest in whatever he was doing and stood still, watching Phillip.

  “Here, Ralphie, old boy,” Phillip muttered. Because he still had the coffee mug in one hand, Phillip tucked Dale under his arm. Then, with his free hand, he patted his thigh to encourage the dog.

  Clumps of snow flew in all directions as Ralphie bounded toward him. Today, probably because of the excitement of the new snow, Ralphie didn’t sit in front of him when called. The dog jumped up toward Phillip’s face.

  “Down, Boy!” Phillip laughed as he spoke.

  To Phillip’s surprise, Ralphie really did stop jumping. The dog stepped closer. Puffs of steam suspended in the air as Ralphie sniffed him.

  Without notice, Ralphie emitted a low growl and lunged. Caught completely off guard by Ralphie’s unusual response, Phillip remained still. Ralphie thrust his face under Phillip’s arm. Before Phillip knew what had happened, Ralphie grabbed the angel in his mouth, turned, and ran.

  Grace’s comment about how Tiger had taken a liking to the angel and how Tiger had been sleeping with it all day echoed in Phillip’s head.

  Phillip dropped his keys and the coffee mug on the ground. “Ralphie! No!” he called out as he ran after the dog. Fortu-nately, Ralphie ran into his neighbor’s backyard and straight into his doghouse.

  Just as Phillip reached him, Ralphie lowered his head and shook the angel as if he were killing a rodent.

  Not caring about his own safety while cornering a dog, Phillip stepped in front of the doghouse opening, blocking Ralphie’s path to escape. “Drop it!” he said, trying to keep his voice from trembling. He reached out one hand, not really expecting Ralphie to obey, which Ralphie didn’t. Since Ralphie didn’t run or growl, Phillip grabbed the angel with both hands and struggled to pry it out of Ralphie’s mouth.

  When he finally got it loose, Ralphie lunged again, but this time, Phillip was ready. He blocked the dog with his free hand and with his other thrust Dale under his jacket.

  With his prey out of sight, Ralphie snuffled, then walked to his master’s back door, sat, and barked to be let inside.

  Phillip’s feet wouldn’t move. Still standing in his neighbor’s backyard, he forced himself to sum up the damage.

  Without looking at it, he knew he would have to rewash and restarch the angel to eradicate the dog’s saliva.

  His heart sank when he looked at the right wing. An inch from the tip was a hole the size of Ralphie’s tooth.

  “No. . . ,” he muttered aloud as he pressed at the hole with a shaking finger.

  The neighbor’s patio door swooshed open and shut, leaving Phillip all alone in his neighbor’s backyard.

  Phillip closed his eyes and raised his face to the dark sky. The cold of the snowflakes landing and melting on his skin did nothing to refresh his troubled spirit.

  He couldn’t go back today, but he knew where he was go-ing tomorrow.

  seven

  “It’s not that bad, Phil. Really.”

  Grace raised her head just in time to see Phil running his fingers through his hair.

  He rammed his hands in his pockets. “There’s a hole in the wing, it’s covered in dog drool, and it’s all squished up. How can that not be bad?”

  She held out the angel toward him. “It’s not really a hole. No threads are broken; it’s just a bit stretched. All I have to do i
s use a crochet hook and even out the stitches again, and then wash it and restarch it, which we’ve done once already. The second time we fix it up is bound to be easier than the first time, now that we know what we’re doing.”

  Grace forced herself to smile at Phil in an attempt to ease his obvious distress. The procedure had taken them hours the first time, and then there were three of them working. Today Phil had come alone. Her only consolation was that she had saved the wire pieces, which were already cut and molded into the right shapes.

  “Take heart. You know that old expression—troubles come in threes. This is three, so from here, everything will be fine.”

  He mumbled something she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear.

  “Come on, Phil, don’t be that way. Dale is going to be fine.”

  “I suppose I should have seen this coming,” she said over her shoulder as she walked into her bedroom to get her sewing kit while Phil waited in the hall. “The first time Dale got hurt was Neil’s fault, the second time you did it. Now this time I’m afraid it’s my fault, because that dog would never have attacked Dale if Tiger hadn’t got his scent all over her.”

  Sewing kit in hand, she headed for the kitchen. Once again, Phil trailed behind her. “It’s not your fault, Grace. It was my fault. I was too slow when Ralphie jumped up. I should have reacted sooner. Dale was under my arm when Ralphie grabbed him. I can’t believe I was so slow, but I was standing there with my head in the clouds, enjoying the snow.”

  Grace pretended to shiver as she sat and dug into the case for her stitch ripper. “Enjoying the snow? You’ve got to be kidding. It was cold last night when you left. It’s still cold now, even though the sun is shining.”

  Very carefully, Grace pulled off the halo and slowly picked at the stitches that held the hair in place. The meticulous sewing that had taken her half an hour to do came out in under a minute. Likewise, she began taking out the fine, invisible seam she’d so carefully manipulated to fasten the silk lining to the bottom of the crocheted gown in a fraction of the time it had taken to put it in.

  “That hair looks awful lying there like that. It looks like you scalped poor Dale, and now by taking out the white stuff, you’re gutting him like a fish.”

  “Phil!”

  “Seriously, you’re doing such a good job. Have you ever scaled and cleaned a fish?”

  “Eww. I think not!”

  “Well, I’ve got a deal for you. We should go fishing sometime next summer. I’ll show you how to gut a fish, and then I’ll cook the fish for you over the open campfire. Or if that doesn’t suit you, I’ll clean and gut the fish, and you can cook it over the fire.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  One corner of Phil’s mouth quirked up, and little crinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes.

  All Grace could do was stare at him with her mouth hanging open. In the process, she stabbed her finger with the stitch ripper.

  “Then how about this? You catch a fish, Neil can clean and gut it, we’ll take it home, and I’ll barbecue it.”

  Ignoring the pinch in her finger, Grace returned her attention to the task at hand, which was not getting lost in Phillip McLean’s smoky-green eyes. She focused only on pulling the silk lining away from the gown. “I don’t think so,” she mumbled, keeping her head down so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

  “Or we can go to the marketplace and buy a fish already filleted, say we caught and gutted it, and get Neil to cook it.”

  Grace smacked the lining and angel down on the table. “What are you talking about? You’re distracting me!”

  “Sorry,” he said, although his mischievous grin told her otherwise.

  “Now you can go wash Dale in the sink, and I’ll cook the starch. While it cools, we can insert the balloons, although it will be harder to do than last time, because this time Dale is wet and the rubber won’t slip in quite so smoothly.”

  Phil lost his grin, instantly becoming serious. “You’re right. I really am sorry. Have I told you how much I appreciate this?”

  Grace’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. As Phil stared unwavering into her eyes, she felt the heat of a blush flaming her cheeks. Unable to withstand the intense eye contact without melting, Grace stared down at an imaginary spot on the table.

  She nearly jumped to the ceiling when Phil’s warm hand covered hers on top of the table.

  “Grace? Why won’t you look at me? I was teasing about the fish stuff. I just feel bad for imposing on you again.”

  “It’s okay,” she mumbled, still not able to look up at him. “You’re not imposing. I really don’t mind doing this. I did it the first time as a favor to Neil, but now it’s becoming a challenge.”

  Phil’s voice lowered in pitch, coming out as a low rumble. “Do you like a challenge, Grace?”

  She couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t not look at him as she replied. “That depends, I suppose. Fixing Dale for the third time isn’t as big a challenge as fixing her the first time.”

  “I meant a different kind of challenge. How would you and Neil like to come with me to the grand opening for the new Christian coffeehouse tonight? I know it’s going to be crowded, but it will be really fun. There’s going to be a couple of top-name Christian musicians, followed by a worship time and then a time of fellowship. People have been encouraged to bring their non-Christian friends, so it will also be a good time for ministry. I haven’t asked Neil because I forgot it was today until I was on my way here, but I’m sure he’ll go if you go. I don’t want to go alone.”

  Grace tilted her head and narrowed her eyes slightly as she studied Phil. One eyebrow quirked as he waited for her reply.

  For tonight, she and Neil had agreed that they would get together, but they’d made no definite plans. The idea that Phil would be tagging along or, rather, that they were tagging along with Phil held a lot of appeal. She enjoyed her time with Phil, yet a modicum of guilt had started to creep in after spending so much time alone with him over the last couple of weeks, when she hadn’t spent much time, if any, with Neil.

  This time, though, she had the perfect solution.

  Grace smiled and nodded. “That sounds like fun. I’d love to go, and I’m sure Neil would, too. You shouldn’t go to things like that alone, and you shouldn’t go as the odd man out in a threesome either. I have a friend who would probably enjoy coming with us to even out the numbers. How does that sound?”

  Phil returned her smile, but somehow, the smile didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “A friend?”

  She nodded again. This time, she reached over and laid her hand over the top of his. “You don’t have to be shy, Phil. June is really nice.”

  “I don’t do blind dates. Have I met her before? Does she go to our church?”

  “No, but she is a Christian. We’ve been friends for years. Trust me; you’ll like her. I’m not saying anything has to come of it in the long run. All I’m saying is that making it a foursome will even out the numbers.”

  “I guess. Sure. Why not?”

  Grace tried not to visibly show her relief. She didn’t normally like loud music, but she couldn’t turn down a Saturday night outing in total Christian company with people her own age, especially with Phil present. Because of the way he made her laugh, she could imagine how much fun he could be in a crowd.

  “Great. So what now?”

  “One of us should phone Neil now and see if he wants to go. Maybe he has plans and didn’t tell you.”

  Grace shook her head. “No, Neil’s great. He always tells me a few days in advance if he wants to go somewhere special. It seems to me he was thinking of renting a movie tonight for lack of a better idea. Why don’t you phone Neil, and I’ll phone June?”

  Like typical men, Phil and Neil’s conversation lasted only as long as it took to ask the question if Neil had other plans, which he didn’t. As soon as Phil hung up, Grace phoned June, but all she got was her friend’s answering machine. Grace left a message and returned to the kitchen,
where she found Phil seated at the table with Dale in his hands.

  Grace joined him at the table and folded her hands in front of her. “We can still go if I can’t get ahold of June; it just won’t be as much fun. If we’re going to get good seats, we should probably have an early supper.”

  They both turned in unison to check the clock on Grace’s kitchen stove.

  Phil’s eyebrows raised, and he lowered his head to check his wristwatch. “I can’t believe this. It’s nearly three o’clock. Are we going to have time to do everything we need to do? I still have to go home and change.”

  “Maybe, but it’s not likely. I’d rather err on the side of caution, so therefore I have an idea. Let’s just wash Dale and let her dry, like we did last time. Besides, it will be easier to work the balloons inside the arms and head when she’s not wet. Also, it will be easier for me to even out the stitches where that dog stretched the spot on the wing when the threads are dry and free of starch. We’re really not in any rush. We can wash Dale now, and then you could come back tomorrow when she’s dry, and we’ll finish the job.”

  “Good idea.” As he spoke, Phil stood and began to roll up his shirtsleeves. “Like I said earlier, I feel bad imposing on you so much. I’ll wash Dale, because you’re the one who’s going to be starching him.”

  Grace grinned. “I’m also the one who’s going to fix her wing.”

  Phil crossed his arms over his chest. “But I’m the one who will be putting the balloons in his arms.”

  “But I’m doing her head.”

  A telltale grin tweaked at one corner of his mouth. Grace could see Phil struggling to dampen it. “And I’ll be bracing his wings when the starching is done.”

  Likewise, Grace’s lower lip quivered, and she couldn’t stop it. “And when she is dry, I have to sew her hair and her halo back on, as well as the lining of her gown.” The giggles Grace tried so hard to subdue could no longer be controlled. Grace burst out laughing, as did Phil.