by Nicki Elson
Giving her toes a squeeze through her fuzzy socks, he said, “I don’t mean that in a bad way. Life is a process of constant change, and so long as that change is in a positive direction, it’s good. Don’t regret being who you were; be happy about who you are.”
“You’re like a walking proverb, aren’t you?” She smiled, but as she contemplated his words, a familiar guilt tapped at her.
“What’s wrong?”
“You say not to regret who I was, but how can I not when the decisions I made didn’t affect just me—I forced the kids to leave their friends and change schools because I couldn’t handle the situation. What kind of a mother does that?”
“Was the move to St. John’s a bad one for Liam and Kirsten?”
“No. It ended up being a great move…for all of us, but I couldn’t have known that ahead of time. I reacted impulsively and everything could’ve just as easily been disastrous for them.”
“But it wasn’t.”
“But I didn’t know it wouldn’t be.”
“But the Lord did. There is a plan, Maggie. Circumstances are often arranged in a certain way on purpose, to set us up to arrive at the place we’re supposed to be—a bigger picture that we can’t see.”
“I get that. Sort of. It’s just that the whole free will thing gets in the way. If there’s a divine plan in place that’s all been foreseen, then is there really free will or is it just us thinking we’re making choices while God’s pulling the strings?”
“Free will is genuine, and often the choices people make lead them far from their intended path, but God offers up opportunities and arranges circumstances to help bring them back to where they’re supposed to be.” Evan’s voice was steady, unflustered by Maggie’s persistent challenges.
She relaxed and leaned against the back of the chair, extending her other leg so that both feet rested in his lap. He’d begun kneading her first foot, and now moved over to the other. “That feels nice,” she said, giving her toes a small wiggle as an indication that she was ready to lay the conversation to rest. As usual, she needed time to absorb the things Evan told her.
Reclining casually, almost lazily, against the wall, he turned his face toward her. Simply staring at his beautiful, serene features would be enough to reassure her on the worst of days, but he offered so much more than that—wisdom, encouragement, true friendship. “Mind if I try this without the socks?” he asked.
After thinking back to the last time she’d painted her toenails—only a week earlier—she nodded. Evan’s fingertips dipped under the cuff of her loose sock, and a giggle bubbled up and out of Maggie’s throat as he worked his way down to her most ticklish spot.
“Is it too much?” he asked, a teasing spark in his eye.
“No, it’ll be fine. Just, maybe avoid the underside of the arch.”
He complied, moving his fingers slowly over her flesh, pressing away the pockets of tightness, and caressing her with his angelic, flowing vibrations. She closed her eyes to take it all in. It was just a foot massage, no lines crossed physically, but emotionally she was bursting. She hadn’t expected it to be easy to control her affection for him, but she hadn’t anticipated that it would be excruciating. She needed help. But this was the one thing she couldn’t talk to Evan about. If he knew the extent of the conflict he continued to cause within her, she was afraid he’d leave permanently.
Once Liam and Kirsten were settled into their school routines, Maggie went to Father Tom. He was the only person she trusted with her secret, and she could no longer ride this teeter-totter of emotions by herself. It was a quiet evening with the church empty save for a few people in the adoration chapel. Father Tom had again led her to the dimly lit usher’s room, where they sat across from each other on the overstuffed leather chairs. The priest took a swig of his red liquid and set it on the side table. Maggie, meanwhile, played with the knuckles of her empty hands.
“Are you certain the confessional wouldn’t be a more appropriate spot?” Father Tom asked. “It seems you have something to get off your chest.”
“No, it’s not exactly a confession. But I do need your guidance.”
“All right, I’m listening.”
“I don’t think I need to ask this but…to be sure, can I count on you to keep our discussion confidential? You’re the only one I want to share this with.”
“Of course.”
Maggie stared down at her hands and took a breath. “I’m being visited by an angel.”
She was surprised to hear a small gasp come from the priest and looked up. “What makes you think it’s an angel?” he asked.
“Many things, but he also tells me that he is.”
“And you’re certain it’s not just your imagination? Is he coming to you in your dreams?”
Maggie recounted her brief history with Evan, emphasizing the parts that made it clear he was not of this world. Father Tom listened intently, nodding at each new bit of evidence. When she’d brought him up to date, he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. In a low voice, he said, “And you have no idea why he’s here? What he wants from you?”
“No. And neither does he.”
The priest sat back and rested one arm across his stomach while he propped the other elbow on it and curled his fingers over his lips. He seemed to draw his gaze within while he contemplated the situation. Maggie remained silent, not wanting to disturb his thoughts. After several moments, his eyes snapped to her. “When did you say he first appeared to you?”
“Early January.”
He nodded. “And he’s visited continually since then?”
“Not continually. There’ve been…complications.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”
“Such as I’m human and a woman and apparently much more vulnerable than I pretend to be. He’s been an amazing support to me, and we’ve developed a friendship. But I’ve also developed…deeper feelings for him.”
The priest’s eyes opened wide. “Romantic feelings?”
“Yes, but I’ve not acted on them, and I won’t! I accept that he and I can be nothing more than friends.”
“What does this have to do with him not continually visiting you? Did he stay away after you confessed your affections?”
“It was more like I kept him away, mentally blocked him.”
“And that was enough to keep him away physically?”
Maggie nodded.
Father Tom’s features melted into a relieved smile. “So you see? You’re controlling this.”
“In that respect, yes, but I’ve prayed and prayed about it, and every time I get the feeling that I’m supposed to stay open to him. So I need your spiritual advice on how to handle this responsibility.”
While she’d spoken, the priest’s expression had tensed, transforming his smile into a tight frown. He again leaned forward and dropped his voice to almost a whisper. “Maggie, I’m afraid my advice is that you continue to block him. What you see isn’t real.”
Maggie’s throat constricted. Despite everything she’d told him, he didn’t believe her, and these were exactly the words she didn’t want to hear. Blocking Evan was no longer an option she’d give herself, and now it seemed she was entirely alone in dealing with her conflicting emotions.
The creases in Father Tom’s forehead went deeper, causing Maggie to regret coming to him. He didn’t have the magical answers she’d been hoping for, so disturbing him had served no purpose other than to make him worry for her sanity. She wanted to apologize and rush out of the room, but her disappointment held her temporarily paralyzed, unable to get up and face her dilemma all on her own.
Father Tom’s eyes suddenly sparked. “Hold on—I know a man. Raymond Fender. A widower. He’s active with the men’s ministry, and his children went to St. John’s. Surely you must know them.”
“Jason Fender was in Kirsten’s class. His mother died about a year before we started here.” Maggie had no idea what this had to do with th
ey’d just been talking about, but was grateful for the change in subject. “I may have crossed paths with Raymond at school events, but I’ve never met him. How’s he adjusting?”
“Better. Much better. I’ve heard that he signed up for one of those dating websites. I’m sure he must be lonely after losing his wife, and I’ve sensed the same loneliness from you at times. That could be what’s affecting you now. I wonder…if Raymond is open to dating someone from the parish, would you be interested?”
“That’s your solution to my problem—a blind date?” Maggie laughed. This certainly wasn’t where she’d expected the discussion to end up, and she was surprised to find she didn’t hate the idea.
Father Tom smiled. “Yes, I suppose it is.” Then his features clouded with concern, reminding Maggie a little too much of Carl during her shakier days right after the divorce. When the priest spoke again, his voice was low and had a darker edge. “But should your angel continue to appear, I caution you to keep an arm’s length from him at all times.”
Raymond Fender had dark eyes and short, wavy brown hair that was graying only at the temples. His face was classically male, with a squared jaw, strong chin, and long dimples that creased both sides of his face when he smiled. He was very tall, a few inches higher than Carl’s five-foot-eleven, and had wide shoulders, so Maggie wasn’t surprised to learn during their first coffee date that he’d played college football. He had a gentler disposition than Maggie would have expected from an ex-athlete, and the one word she’d have used to describe him after their first meeting was “kind.”
As they left the coffee shop Tuesday, he’d asked if Maggie had plans for the coming Saturday evening, and since she didn’t, they set up a second date for dinner. At the popular steak place, which extended out over the river with stellar views through floor-to-ceiling windows, Maggie learned that in addition to Jason, Ray had two other sons away at college. The loss of their mother had been a blow to all of them, but it sounded like strong faith and the support of family living close by had pulled them through. Financial concerns didn’t seem to be an issue—Ray was a vice president with a large insurance firm. With his two oldest out of the house and his youngest now in high school, he felt like it was time to pay attention to his personal life. All this he conveyed to Maggie as they amiably conversed over salad and then filet. Maggie likewise brought him up to speed on her story.
“I haven’t really dated since the divorce,” she explained. “Life seems to have been filled with enough craziness that I just…I don’t know, put it off or just haven’t felt the need. But this is nice. I think Father Tom might know me better than I know myself.”
“He’s a wise man,” Ray said. “I’ve enjoyed working with him on some of the men’s conferences. I like the trust he puts in the parishioners—lets us work autonomously without having to get his hands in every little thing.”
Maggie thought she might detect an unspoken addendum: unlike the monsignor, and wanted to let him know she concurred, but figured it would be bad form to talk church politics so early in the relationship. He picked up the bottle of pinot noir and refilled her glass.
“It’s a little strange getting back into dating,” he said. “And in our stage of life, it pretty much has to be a conscious decision rather than it just happening, like when we were in our twenties.”
“Have you thought about Internet dating sites?” Maggie asked. Of course she knew the answer, but this seemed like the diplomatic way to ask. Plus, she wanted to see if he’d be honest.
“I’ve actually got a profile on one—for forty-somethings. It seems to make logical sense, zero in right away on people with similar interests and values.”
“True. Assuming people are being honest on their forms. But I guess why wouldn’t they be? It’s to their benefit, right?”
He nodded. “I suppose.”
“You don’t seem too enthusiastic.”
“I trawled through some profiles, and it just felt odd. Like I was stalking them. I don’t really have any experience in social networking, never bothered setting up a profile on any of the popular sites, so as much sense as it made, I wasn’t comfortable with it. But I was committed to at least giving it a shot.”
“So did you go on any dates?”
“I chatted with a couple women and set up a date with one.”
“What happened?”
He turned his eyes to his steak and cut as he answered. “I had coffee with you.” Maggie titled her head questioningly as he slowly raised his gaze to her and shrugged. “I was supposed to have dinner with her tonight. But after Tuesday, I knew there’d be no point having dinner with her if I was wishing it was you instead, so I cancelled.”
Maggie smiled but chastised him. “That’s so mean!”
“Not really. It isn’t like she even knows me, and wouldn’t it have been more mean to have led her on even after I knew I wouldn’t be interested?”
“You didn’t even give her a chance. You might’ve liked her.”
“Might have, but I know I like you.” He raised his glass and indicated for Maggie to do the same. “To Father Tom, who beats iDate any day.”
They clinked glasses, and Maggie shook her head but couldn’t keep the goofy grin off her face. She’d never imagined that catching a man’s attention could still make her feel downright giddy.
“Stop acting so innocent,” Ray teased, his long dimples accenting his smile. “Did you honestly think I could get reservations at this place on a Saturday night in less than a week?”
“Raymond! Are you telling me I’m sitting in another woman’s chair and eating her meat?”
“All I’m trying to tell you is that I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too.”
The conversation continued to flow easily throughout the rest of dinner, and Maggie started to think Father Tom’s distraction tactics just might work after all. The first awkward moment didn’t happen until the end of the evening, after Raymond had driven her home and walked her to her front door. To kiss or not to kiss. Maggie was warm from the wine and feeling nothing but good things about the man in front of her, so her vote was for kiss. She was pretty sure he felt the same, but he fidgeted and seemed unsure of how to go about it, so she decided to make things easy for him.
Even in her high heels, she had to lift up on tiptoes to rake her fingers through the thick hair at the back of his head and bring her inviting lips within inches of his. “Thank you for dinner,” she murmured, not breaking eye contact.
He answered by lowering his mouth to hers.
That could’ve been it. A simple, light kiss. But when he began to break away, Maggie pulled him back to her. She wanted a man’s mouth crushing onto hers, needed it. He responded by wrapping his large hands around her back and giving in to her need.
When he finally came up for air, he gasped. “Wow. It’s been a long time since…wow.”
Maggie didn’t say anything, but leaned the side of her face against his broad chest so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes. The entire time she’d been kissing him, she’d been thinking of Evan.
Chapter 14
MAGGIE MET RAYMOND LATE IN THE FOLLOWING WEEK for lunch. She really did like him, and even though she continued to feel a pull toward Evan, progressing with Ray seemed to be her best shot at keeping the angel where he belonged in her heart.
“So how are your kids adjusting to school?” Ray asked after he’d finished describing a roommate issue one of his sons was having at college.
“Fine. Great, actually. Kirsten seems to like being at the high school as much as your Jason does. And Liam’s doing okay too, but he’s been bummed this week. One of his friends is being nasty to him.”
“It’d sure be easier to raise our own kids if we didn’t have all those other kids to contend with too, eh?”
“Sometimes I think so. But his friend Tommy is usually such a sweet kid, so I don’t know what’s gotten into him. I’m wondering if it has something to do with when he got sick at ou
r house at the end of summer. You know how the last thing you eat right before you get the stomach flu becomes unappetizing for, like, ever? Do you think he could’ve made that association with Liam? The two of them were playing, I walked in to see if they wanted a snack, and the next thing I knew Tommy was puking all over the place. Oh, sorry,” Maggie added with a slight laugh when Raymond lowered his spoonful of broccoli cheddar soup back into the bowl.
He gave her a teasing scowl and moved on to his sandwich.
“The really tough thing,” she continued, “is that I can’t decide whether or not to give Tommy’s mom a call. My experience has been that no parent ever thinks it’s their own kid’s fault.”
“That’s a sticky situation for sure. Have you talked to the teacher about it?”
“No, not yet. But that’s a good idea. I’m sure Liam’s not lying, but I never know how much he might be exaggerating. And if he’s not, well, then maybe the teacher can handle talking to Tommy’s mom.” She smiled. “Thanks for the advice.”
“You’re welcome.”
Tommy Wilson didn’t show up to school the next week; his mother had called him in sick. By Wednesday, the boy’s condition was severe enough that his mother called the church office and spoke to Brenda, asking to have a priest sent over.
“For an anointing? Is it that bad?” Maggie gasped when Brenda told her.
“No. He’s not in the hospital or anything, but she did sound freaked out,” the office manager explained as she dialed the rectory. “Hello, Monsignor. It’s Brenda. Grace Wilson just called in hysterics. Her son is ill, and she asked for a priest to visit them ASAP.”
A few hours later, Sarto stalked into the office from the front entrance and went directly to Maggie’s desk. “Mrs. Brock, can you make arrangements for your children tonight? I need you to accompany me.”
“Does this have something to do with Tommy?” An ill feeling pooled in her stomach.