by Janet Spaeth
His warm brown eyes met hers. “By the way, I didn’t get your name.”
“Tess Mahoney,” she said, somewhat breathlessly. Had her heart always beat this irregularly? Maybe she should get a checkup.
“Tess Mahoney,” he repeated. “Sounds a bit Irish.”
“You’ve got it right with ‘a bit.’ The name is Irish, but the rest of me is a mishmash of everything.”
“Well, Tess Mahoney, I’m very glad to have met you and your angels, and I’ll be back tomorrow to pick up Faith and do some more shopping.”
“I’ll be here.”
With a wave he opened the door and left, the cold November air swirling in to replace the warmth that left with him.
Cora leaped up to the counter and leaned against Tess, her body heat welcome as the chilled early night air invaded the cozy store.
“Well, Kitty-Cat,” she said as she locked the store’s door and turned off the light, “thanks to Mr. Cameron you’ll be in Cat-Cat Yums for quite a while.”
There was nothing to take her from her snug house that night—no choir practice, no urban renewal meetings, no shopping to be done. So she curled up on the couch under one of the many colorful afghans her grandmother had crocheted, with Cora cozied in beside her and a cup of spiced tea heating her hands.
It had been a long time since she’d gone out with anyone. She smoothed Cora’s already silky fur. Thoughts crowded her mind.
He wasn’t married. He liked cats. He didn’t seem to think her store was silly.
But one major question was still unanswered, and she posed it aloud to Cora: “Does he believe in angels? What does he believe?”
The answer made all the difference in the world.
Cora’s even purring became hypnotic, and Tess felt herself drifting off to sleep after she’d downed the dregs of her tea.
Her last thoughts were of Faith. Why would he think Faith was an appropriate name for an angel who seemed to be always challenging her? No, he was wrong. Faith was constant, unchanging, not an angel whose halo refused to stay put.
Chapter 2
Tess woke as a thought broke into her dreams with the clarity of a fire alarm. She had told Jake Cameron to come back for the angel today. But this was Thanksgiving! She was going to help serve dinner at her church.
She found his phone number in the telephone book and whistled at the address. Panda’s must do a fairly decent business, she realized, for him to be able to afford a home in the Pines. It was the newest housing development in town, far down along the river, and houses there began at more than she could make in fifteen years even if she saved every penny she earned.
She waited until ten o’clock to dial the phone. He answered on the second ring, but his voice was thick with sleep.
“Oh, I’m sorry—I woke you up,” she said, her words falling over each other.
“No, well, yes, but that’s all right. I had to get up now anyway. What time is it?”
“And how do you know you have to get up now if you don’t know what time it is?” She couldn’t resist teasing him.
“The sun is up,” he responded, the grogginess clearing from his voice. “I’m always up at the crack of dawn.”
“Well, dawn has cracked. About four hours ago.” She grinned at Cora, who lifted one exhausted eyelid in response.
He muttered something she couldn’t understand and probably didn’t want to. “The roaster blew a bearing last night around midnight. Wouldn’t you know it, just as we head into our biggest season. So I stayed up to work on it.”
“Did you get it fixed?”
“Oh, I cobbled it together to last until I can get a replacement part.” His voice softened. “So how are you today, Angel Lady?”
“You recognized my voice!” Tess couldn’t hide her astonishment.
“Sure. Even the combined voices of the guy at the post office yesterday, telling me that ‘Sorry, sir, these boxes need extra tape,’ and the college student at Panda’s, notifying me that ‘Hey, dude, your big machine has just gone blooey,’ couldn’t erase the memory of your angelic tones. Seriously, I do have a good ear for voices.”
His dead-on imitation of the postal worker and the Panda’s employee caught Tess off guard, and she laughed. “Have you considered comedy?”
“Some people say that’s what I’m doing at Panda’s, but they’re just jealous. So how’s my angel doing? Is Faith’s halo askew again?”
“I don’t think it would stay on straight if you glued it on,” she said. “It seems destined to go off to the side no matter what I do.”
“I’m anxious to get her here.”
“That’s what I called about. I said you could take her today, but I forgot—this is Thanksgiving.”
“Oh, that’s right. I guess I could pick her up tomorrow, but I’d kind of hoped to have her already in place when I opened on Friday.”
“You could take her this afternoon,” Tess suggested, “unless you have other plans.”
“No, I don’t. I was just going to loll around the house and watch ball games on TV, but now I’ll probably go in and tinker with the roaster. I don’t want to interfere with your plans.”
“Well, I do need to be at the church by three.”
“Church? They have services on Thanksgiving afternoon?”
“We serve an open dinner. I’m in charge of salads and desserts this year. Plus I’ll be going in to make sure everything is in place and set the tables, put up the chairs, that kind of thing.”
“Sounds like fun. Can you use an extra pair of hands?”
“You’re volunteering?” Tess couldn’t believe her ears. “Of course we can! But what about your roaster?”
He laughed softly. “It’s undoubtedly safer without my hammering and fiddling around on it. I’m not exactly Mr. Handy, unfortunately. All around, the best choice—the wisest choice—is for me to help out at your church. It’ll make me feel useful.”
“Fair enough. Can you be here at Angel’s Roost shortly before three?”
“With bells on.”
She hung up the phone and swept Cora up and whirled her around until the cat meowed a clear complaint. “He’s coming to my church! He’s coming to my church!”
She hugged Cora to her chest and buried her face in the soft fur as her thoughts led into prayer. “Dear God, I sense something is moving here by Your power. Guide me in the way I should go.”
She felt the soft glow of prayer heard and answered, and her heart relaxed.
Cora’s impatient wriggle reminded her of the earthly demands of a cat that needed to be fed.
The rest of the morning and the early afternoon sped by. Tess had just slipped into her favorite sweatshirt, a bright yellow one festooned with angels in rainbow colors playing musical instruments, when she heard a car pull up in front of the house. She flew to the front door and motioned him around to the side, where the outside entrance to the house was.
He hadn’t even reached the door yet, and her heart was already singing. Did he have any idea how happy he was making her this day?
He came into the entryway off the kitchen and stamped the snow from his feet.
“I’m ready,” he announced, kneeling and rubbing Cora’s waiting ears. “We can take my car. I left it idling so it’d be warm.”
A smile curved her lips. “Better turn it off because we’re walking.”
“Walking? Are you serious? It’s freezing outside, and there’s this white stuff called snow all over the sidewalks. Say, this isn’t one of those ‘work up an appetite’ ploys, is it?”
“No, Silly. Trust me.”
She pulled on her boots and coat and, after saying good-bye to Cora and promising her turkey leftovers, led him back to the sidewalk. He reached inside the late-model sedan, which Tess knew carried a very expensive price tag, and turned off the ignition.
“Okay, let’s go!” Tess said. “Just pretend we’re arctic explorers. It’ll be fun.”
“Way cool. Too way cool,” he grumbled.
“And the pun is definitely intended. We’ve just met, and already you’re trying to kill me for my insurance money. Well, it won’t work. It just won’t work. Mom’s my beneficiary, so there.” He glared at her with mock suspicion. “She didn’t put you up to this, did she?”
“You nut,” Tess answered, poking him with her elbow.
They crossed the street and trudged through half a block of snow-covered sidewalks before Tess tugged on his arm. “Let’s go in here.”
Jake peered at the white stone church in front of him. “Nativity Church,” he read from a sign by the steps. “Why, this is charming!”
“Ah, you’re just saying that because you’re cold, and if this is our destination, it means you don’t have to walk anymore.”
“That might color my opinion,” he confessed playfully, “but I am truly serious. This is an absolutely delightful church!”
A tall man with thinning hair and an open smile met them inside the door. “Hi, Tess! The others aren’t here yet, but if you want to go on down and—oh, in the glare of the sunlight I didn’t see your friend.” He stuck out his hand toward Jake. “I’m Reverend Barnes.”
“Jake Cameron,” Jake said, taking Reverend Barnes’s hand and shaking it enthusiastically. “I hope you don’t mind my coming. Tess said—”
“Everyone’s welcome. Glad we could treat you to a hot meal and some fellowship. Not necessary to explain why,” he continued as Jake tried to stop the well-meaning pastor’s words. “We all have times when we need a little something. Maybe food, maybe companionship. Certainly in these hard—”
Tess interrupted gently. “Reverend Barnes, Jake’s here to help with the dinner.”
Reverend Barnes wasn’t at all nonplussed. He tilted his head back and laughed with a joy that seemed to boom to heaven itself. “Welcome, welcome,” he said, grasping Jake’s hand again. “Glad to have you with us, son.”
Another couple arrived, and the minister’s attention turned to them. Tess guided Jake down the stairs to the kitchen.
“Who comes to this dinner, anyway?” he asked as Tess tossed him a large white apron.
“Well, as Reverend Barnes already said, some people come because this is the only way they’ll get a decent meal today. Others come because of the companionship that’s offered.” Her eyes met his. “I come because it reminds me that one of the things I have to be thankful for is that I am blessed with food and friendship.”
His gaze didn’t waver. “But shouldn’t it be more than that? Those in need—surely their purpose isn’t to remind us of our blessings.”
His words took Tess by surprise. She’d never thought about it that way. Certainly he had a point. She hadn’t examined this closely enough.
“Can you explain?” she asked.
“Not really,” he answered, and she appreciated the honesty in his voice. “But it does seem rather egocentric to think the role of the hungry is to make us aware of how good it feels not to be hungry.”
“You’ve posed a good question, son.” Reverend Barnes’s deep voice filled the kitchen as he joined them. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but I might be able to help.”
“Please do,” Jake said.
“Maybe if you flip the picture over, it’ll make more sense. For the hungry what purpose does being fed serve? Rather than thinking of what this does for us, we should be asking what it does for those in need. We should focus on them. Being hungry is a wrong that must be righted. And we here today are simply agents of that change. In serving this food we serve at a greater table.”
He smiled benevolently at Tess. “It should make us feel better, helping out today, but it shouldn’t make us complacent. For many people hunger is an ever-present enemy of happiness. We need to do what we can to feed the hungry. It’s what Jesus wants.”
He handed Jake a folding chair and smiled. “Now that I’ve solved that problem, it’s back to work for me. I’ve got to come up with some inspirational words for tonight’s dinner.”
“Wow,” Jake breathed as Reverend Barnes turned and raced back up the steps, like a man half his age. “It seems to me he’s already come up with some incredibly inspirational words.”
“He is astonishing,” Tess agreed. “He has the ability to see right through to the center of things. Even if I hadn’t been a member of Nativity since I was born, I’d be here because of him.”
Jake nodded thoughtfully. “Where do I start with these chairs?”
A twinge of concern creased through the satisfaction of the day. He had changed the subject so quickly—but why? He didn’t seem to be trying to avoid the matter; yet he certainly didn’t seem inclined to pursue it.
Her musings were interrupted by a stream of people carrying foil-wrapped turkeys and mysterious casserole dishes that smelled wonderful. The kitchen exploded with the joy of many hands cooking.
Jake fell into the role of chief chair-placer quite easily. Tess found herself taking pleasure in the relaxed way he became part of the group and the openness with which her church friends accepted him.
She found herself watching him and the way he interacted with the others. A small movement behind him caught her eye: Reverend Barnes moved toward his wife. For a slice of a moment the minister and his wife glanced at each other, and Tess could tell that volumes passed unspoken—in a muted language only they understood. Then Reverend Barnes sloped his head down and dropped a gentle kiss on his wife’s forehead.
A surprising, new hunger washed over Tess. That same degree of closeness and understanding the minister and his wife had—she wanted it, suddenly wanted it, but with whom? Could it be that having Jake there today was bringing this to the forefront? A hole in her life had become a gaping, aching wound of lonely need.
“He’s a keeper, I think.” The voice belonged to Ellen Smalley, the organist. The tiny woman had always reminded Tess of a wren, small, drab, and twittering but completely harmless. Tess had adored her since she had been a small child in the Carolers’ Choir in grade school.
Tess tried to collect her scattered thoughts. “He’s not mine to keep.”
Mrs. Smalley’s brow furrowed. “He’s not married, is he?”
“Oh no.” Tess couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter that arose at Mrs. Smalley’s obvious relief. “I mean he’s just a customer of mine. There’s not anything going on between us.”
Mrs. Smalley nodded, clearly not believing a word Tess was saying. “Give it time, honey—give it time.”
“No, no.” Tess tried to object, but the furious heat she felt pouring up her throat was making things worse. Why on earth had God decided to make her a blusher?
To make things worse, Jake chose that moment to look at her and wink. Mrs. Smalley laughed out loud. “You know,” she said close to Tess’s ear, “there is a phrase ‘match made in heaven.’ ”
This was too much!
But heaven intervened and saved her as the first of the hungry and lonely trickled past on their way to the small dining room.
Thanksgiving dinner had begun.
For the next two hours Tess was too busy to give Jake much thought, although their eyes did meet frequently over steamy bowls of stuffing and corn as she passed them from the kitchen to the serving area.
Eventually, however, the area moved from organized chaos to a diminished roar and then to an exhausted but satisfied calm. The workers drooped into the now-vacant folding chairs, and Tess smiled as Jake collapsed into the one adjoining hers.
“Whew.” He ran his fingers through his work-ruffled hair.
A single voice began to sing softly, and soon the others joined in: “ ‘We gather together….’ ” Tess’s soft alto was joined by Jake’s strong baritone, and they smiled at each other as they united in the familiar Thanksgiving hymn.
He sang the hymn from memory. Tess’s heart lifted again.
But her hopes were deflated quickly as, when the song ended, he sighed. “I learned that early on. We sang it every year in school at Thanksgiving. I’ve always loved it.”
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br /> He learned it in school.
She fought against the disappointment. But before she could phrase a prayer, words of assurance came, this time from Reverend Barnes.
“We’ve done a good thing here today, but feeding over a hundred people a rollicking good turkey dinner isn’t enough. I hope we’ve done more than send them out with warm food in their bodies. A full stomach doesn’t mean a lot if there isn’t a full soul to go with it. Let us pray that today we fed those whose souls were already full, and those whose souls were hungry. Let this food be our testimony to Jesus Christ.”
She heard several fervent amens.
Reverend Barnes continued as he reminded them of one of Tess’s favorite passages from the Bible: “When Jesus said, ‘I was hungry, and you fed Me,’ was He talking about turkey dinners only? Or should we search for more in His words? What lesson do we take forward with us from this day?”
The group silently considered the minister’s words. Tess found herself returning yet once more to Jake’s presence today and her role in it. Was he one of those Reverend Barnes had referred to as those with hungry souls? If so, had her words and actions been witness enough?
“Bless you all for what you have done. No matter how small, every effort grows when united with others. Have a blessed Thanksgiving, my friends, and don’t forget the leftovers. You’ve earned them!”
Soft laughter spread through the small gathering, and, one by one, people stood up, stretched, and returned again to the kitchen for one last stop—the take-home containers Tess and Mrs. Smalley had packed during the last minutes of the dinner for each of the workers.
Neither Jake nor Tess spoke until they were out of the church. The night sky overhead was clear and cloudless, and stars sprinkled the deep indigo with dots of silver. If she looked hard enough, she could see all the way to heaven, she thought.
Their breath plumed outward as they stopped, by silent mutual agreement, and took in the view.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Jake said at last.
“Actually I didn’t. You invited yourself,” she teased him.