A Season of Angels Page 0,89

realizing she would never hold their child.

She was pale, Chet realized with regret, and dark circles shadowed her eyes. No wonder her father was concerned. Monica wasn't faring any better than Chet was himself. He wanted to shake some reason into her, but that was part of his hell too. He would never touch her again.

Coming here had not been one of his most brilliant ideas. He took a step back, and then another, and was ready to turn and walk away when Monica's gaze suddenly, unexplainably, locked with his.

Chet read her shock and watched the book she was holding tumble unnoticed from her fingers and fall to the floor.

Chet's heart faltered. He couldn't turn and walk away. Then she'd know his game. Then she'd know he'd purposely been spying on her. He had to do something and do it fast.

His shoes made harsh sounds against the sidewalk as he slammed into the Mission House door. He walked past the soup kitchen and moved directly to where Monica was sitting with the children. He braced his feet and glared down at her, sneering.

"Tell your father to stay away from me," he ordered coolly.

Monica's eyes widened with shock.

Not giving her a chance to recover, he turned and walked out, leaving the door to slam in his wake.

Jody let herself into the house that evening, same time as always. Timmy was sitting on the carpet in the family room, occupied with his video game.

"I'm home," she told him, walking into the kitchen.

"Hi, Mom," he called out. "Grandma called."

Jody's blood ran cold. "Grandma Potter?"

"Yes. She wants you to call her right away. She said - oh, darn - "

"What did she say?" Jody asked, hoping to hide her anxiety. It was times such as this that she regretted ever having purchased Timmy the video game system.

"Grandma said if you didn't call her right away that she would call you."

Jody wasn't up to another confrontation with Gloria.

"Glen's coming over for dinner," Jody announced, watching for her son's reaction, hoping to gain confidence in his enthusiasm to spend more time with the attorney. "I thought I'd make spaghetti."

"Sure. He'll like that." Timmy's gaze didn't waver from the television screen, his attention rapt.

Inviting Glen to dinner so they could talk to Timmy together about their engagement had been Glen's idea. Jody had immediately seen the wisdom of it, although now she wished she'd discussed the matter of her remarrying with her son much sooner.

Jody didn't doubt that Timmy would be thrilled. After all, this was what he wanted. His nine-year-old heart had yearned for a father, and his desire was what opened her eyes to the way she'd isolated her life.

"You want to help me set the table?" she asked, although it was an hour or longer before they'd eat.

"In a minute."

Jody rolled her eyes. She'd heard that phrase often enough to have it etched into the patio walkway.

Seeing that she wasn't going to get much conversation from her son, she fried the ground turkey and set the sauce to simmer. Once she'd finished, she reached for the phone and dialed her mother's number. If ever she needed emotional support it was now.

"Hi, Mom."

"Jody, how are you?"

"All right, I guess." She didn't want to unburden her soul, nor could she very well announce that she'd decided to marry Glen within earshot of Timmy. But she could tell her about Gloria's call.

"My guess is that Gloria wants to apologize, dear," her mother said, after Jody finished. "She was hurt and angry and said something she didn't mean, and now she's looking to make amends."

Jody was sure her mother was right, but needed confirmation before returning the call, and said as much.

"You need to remember," Helen continued, "you and Timmy are the only relatives she has left. I'm sure she regrets everything and would like to mend fences. The Christmas gifts you mailed probably arrived and they were the perfect excuse for her to contact you. She means well, sweetheart."

The doorbell sounded and Jody glanced at her watch. "That must be Glen," she explained.

"I do like that young man," her mother announced, and after a quick word in parting, Jody hung up the phone.

Her guess proved correct. Glen stood on the other side of the door, a bottle of wine in his hand and a bouquet of red rosebuds in the other. He kissed her on the cheek and handed her both.

"How's Timmy?" Glen asked as she arranged the roses in a crystal vase.

"Preoccupied," Jody whispered.

Glen's arm circled