A Season of Angels Page 0,17

been robbed from me. I'm sewing Scotty and Jason Batman pajamas and that's the only free time I have to do it."

"Batman pajamas?"

"They're crazy about him and Spider-Man."

"Why don't you sew in the evenings?" Leah suggested. It made perfect sense to her since the three were generally in bed by eight.

Pam laughed and shook her head. "Because, my dear friend, I'm too pooped. Honestly, I head for bed no more than an hour after the kids. I never dreamed I'd be in bed before nine. Remember me, the original night owl? Trust me, kids will do that to you."

A pang of envy struck Leah at the thought of her life being dominated by the demands of a houseful of children. Then again, the grass always appeared greener on the other side of the fence. More than once, Pam had said how much she envied Leah her freedom.

Freedom. True, she often had time on her hands, but for what?

"I'm on a budget, you know," Pam complained when they reached Nordstrom's second floor.

"Would you stop?" Leah demanded, laughing. "We haven't even gotten to the women's section yet and already you're convinced you aren't going to find anything."

"My old maternity dress isn't all that bad."

"Pam!" Leah braced her hands against her hips and glared at her friend. "Now I understand why Doug insisted I go shopping with you. He knew darn good and well that you'd end up buying something for everyone else and nothing for yourself."

"Did you see that darling pinafore," Pam said, pointing toward the children's section. "Diane would look like an angel dressed in that."

Leah looped her arm through Pam's and steered her in the opposite direction. "I'll tell you what I'm going to do."

"What? Hog-tie me and force me to try on several dresses?"

"Close. I'm taking you directly to the dressing room and bringing the party dresses in to you."

Pam's shoulders sagged with defeat as they entered the dressing room area. "All right, just try to find something reasonably priced, will you?" Leah opened the white louvered door and gently pushed her friend inside.

Pam stuck out her hand and waved her index finger. "Check on the sale rack first. I'll feel better about spending so much money on myself if the dress is discounted."

"Never you mind," Leah argued. "I'm not even going to let you look at the price tag."

"But, Leah - "

"Don't even try to argue with me. I'd have thought you'd know better by now." Smiling to herself, Leah left the dressing room.

"My hips aren't nearly as slender as they used to be either," Pam called after her. "You'd better start with a size twelve instead of a ten . . . better make that a fourteen."

Leah stopped long enough to roll her eyes, then headed for a rack of newly arrived fashions. It took less than five minutes to find a wide selection that would suit her friend.

"Mercy, where are you?" Goodness called, frantically circling Nordstrom's like the second hand of a clock gone berserk.

Mercy turned around to find Goodness, her wings all aflutter, breezing six feet off the ground, close to a state of panic.

"I need to talk to you right away," Goodness said breathlessly.

"Over here," Mercy called, wondering what could possibly have gone wrong so quickly. "I'm on the light fixture."

Goodness soared to her side, rustling the dress display and toppling a mannequin. Apparently feeling guilty, she scooped up the lifeless form and set it back into place to the horror of a sales clerk who gasped and placed her hand over her heart to watch a lifeless form right itself.

"Goodness," Mercy shouted. "Would you stop before you get us both into trouble?"

"I need help," Goodness blurted out for the second time, joining Mercy who was dangling from the light fixture.

"So soon? You just received the assignment. What could have possibly gone wrong?"

Goodness, who was easily flustered, looked helpless and confused. She cast a pleading look at Mercy. "I knew I was in way over my head when Gabriel first gave me this assignment, but I wanted to help Monica Fischer. You know I'm a sucker for romance, and finding her a husband didn't sound as if it would be the least bit difficult." She stopped long enough to draw in another deep breath. "Now the poor girl's more confused than ever and I'm afraid it's all my fault."

"What happened?"

"Nothing . . . well, obviously it's something, but . . . oh, dear, I'm afraid I've made a terrible mistake."

"I take it this has