A Season of Angels Page 0,33

necessary."

Michael looked as if he weren't sure what he should do, which only served to irritate her further. "Perhaps I should stay with you."

"Michael, please, that isn't necessary." The man seemed intent on thwarting her, which aggravated her so much she was barely civil. "I'll see you within the hour." Not waiting for any further arguments, she turned and abruptly walked across the street to the Westlake Mall.

The crowds were thick and the moment she was free to leave, she escaped the shopping mall and hurried across the street. Making certain none of the other choir members had lingered, she walked purposefully toward the Blue Goose.

Her hand was on the door when she realized what she was doing. She was willing to walk into an establishment that practiced iniquity in the lowest form, in order to locate Chet. A man who plagued her thoughts from the moment they'd met. Something was dreadfully wrong with her.

She turned, practically running in her eagerness to escape, stopping only when she came to the street. She felt someone move behind her.

"I thought as much. You were looking for me, weren't you?"

There could be no mistaking the voice. It belonged to Chet Costello.

Chapter 7

It must have taken Jody forty-five minutes to persuade Timmy to go to bed, and then only after Glen agreed to help her tuck him in.

"I'm not tired," Timmy insisted as Jody pulled back the sheets of his twin bed. "I want to talk to Glen."

"About what?" Jody knew the instant the words escaped her lips that she'd walked right into that with both feet.

"All kinds of stuff. I need to know what kind of dad he's going to be. After all, God sent him, didn't He?"

A gigantic hole for her to fall in would have been welcome just then. Her son had a knack of knowing exactly what to say that would embarrass her the most. "Timmy, please."

"I don't really need to be tucked in," Timmy told Glen, sounding mature for his years. "I just wanted to show you my stuff." Something that he'd spent every available moment doing since Glen had arrived. Timmy had dragged out his baseball mitt and bat and his beloved baseball card collection for Glen to inspect. The poor man hadn't had a moment's peace in over an hour.

"Good night, Tim," Jody said sternly, standing in the doorway, her hand on the light switch.

" 'Night, Mom. 'Night, Glen."

Jody felt as though her cheeks were red enough to guide ships lost in the fog. She barely knew Glen and already her son was announcing what a great father he'd make. There was no help for it, she was forced to explain.

"I'll get you that coffee now," she said, leading the way into the compact kitchen and reaching for a mug. Her back ached from holding it so straight and stiff. She didn't know how she could possibly explain. "I apologize for what Timmy said earlier."

"About what?"

"You know, about you making him a great father. He's at the age now where he misses a man in his life."

"I imagine his friends talk about their dads."

Jody nodded. "Recently Timmy wrote a letter in school to God asking for a father. Apparently he looks at you as the answer to his prayer because . . . well, because you're the first man I've dated in a long while and . . ."

"That explains the comment about God sending me," Glen said as he carried the two steaming coffee mugs to the table.

"I suppose." Jody reluctantly admitted that much. "I didn't want you to feel pressure because of what he'd said and I certainly didn't want you to think that . . . that I'd put him up to it."

"I didn't." Glen sat down and crossed his legs, relaxing against the chair. He appeared more amused than concerned. "He's a wonderful boy. You've done a good job raising him."

"Thank you." His words made her proud, but at the same time she realized that she'd failed her son in some way, otherwise she would have recognized his need for a man in his life. Her father had served that purpose for Timmy until his death and the void had been deeply felt by her young son.

"I'm honored that Timmy thinks I'm good father material," Glen added between sips of coffee.

"It helped that you had a signed Ken Griffey, Jr. baseball card," Jody teased, then grew serious. "I thought I should explain why Timmy's so eager for us to get to know