Angels at Christmas - By Debbie Macomber Page 0,74

at the moment. She couldn't possibly have carried on a civil conversation. All she could think about was the fact that Roy was in her home, having Christmas Eve dinner with her father and her. As far as she was concerned, this was nothing short of a miracle.

"I hope you'll attend church services with us later." Her father turned to Roy.

"I'd be delighted."

"My wife had a lot of wonderful sayings," he murmured, reverting to his previous topic. "She said interruptions were simply God's appointments."

"I interrupted you this evening," Roy said.

"Now, Dad..." All this talk about her mother and God would probably confuse Roy. Christmas Eve was not the time to eulogize her mother. Then it occurred to Julie that her father needed to do this, that he wanted to remember and honor her by sharing her favorite expressions.

"Please go on," Roy said. "I'd like to hear some of the other things your wife said."

Her father grinned and put down his spoon. "My wife firmly believed that God sends pain into our lives for a reason."

Roy frowned. "That's an interesting thought. Most people don't think of God in terms of pain."

"I know," Dean said. "Now, Roy, I realize from what Julie's told me that you've seen more than your fair share of emotional turmoil. I don't mean to discount that, but my wife always said we should lean into the pain, instead of running away from it."

"Like driving into a skid in order to correct it?" Roy suggested.

"Exactly," Dean crowed. "We have to use the experience. We can become either bitter or better."

Julie wasn't sure where her father was going with this conversation. "Daddy?"

"She only calls me that when she's upset."

"It's okay, Julie. I want to hear this," Roy said.

"Good, because I think it's something you need to hear." Her father had given up all pretense of eating. "Now it seems to me that you're interested in my little girl."

Julie knew her cheeks must be flaming. All this spiritual talk wasn't like her father, who kept his faith private. She couldn't imagine why he was saying the things he was.

"I care a great deal for Julie," Roy confessed.

Julie nearly dropped her spoon. As it was, the utensil clattered against the china bowl.

Roy glanced at her. "Unfortunately, it took me a while to understand what I was doing."

"So it seems." Her father gestured grandly with a piece of bread. "But all's well that ends well, right?"

"Right." He turned to meet Julie's eyes. "You're the one who anonymously donated that twenty-five thousand dollars to the Salvation Army, aren't you?"

Julie went very still. "Is that why you're here?"

"No, but it was a catalyst. The bell - so to speak - that woke me up."

"How did you know?" She'd done it anonymously for a reason.

"You haven't seen the news, have you?"

Julie was aghast. "It was on the evening news?"

"Channel Four."

"I watched Channel Four earlier and didn't see anything about it," her father said.

"It was there," Roy insisted. "They interviewed a man by the name of Gary Wilson, a volunteer stationed at the Alderwood Mall." He looked at Julie. "It was you who gave that check to the Salvation Army, wasn't it?"

For a second, she considered misleading him, then decided against it. "Would it matter?"

Roy thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No. I don't care what you did with the money because I know in my heart that you love me."

"Those are mighty sweet words," her father said, grinning from ear to ear.

"Dad!"

"Now, Roy, you say you care for Julie. Does that mean you love her?"

"Dad!" she cried again. She couldn't believe that her father would ask such a thing, especially with her sitting there.

"I love her."

"Good," her father said nonchalantly, as if men regularly talked this way at the dining room table.

Roy chuckled, but Julie spoke before he could say anything else. "Would you two kindly involve me in this conversation?"

"She's right," Roy said.

"Now I'll be the one to say those are some mighty sweet words," Julie muttered. It was the first time she could remember Roy admitting she was right about anything.

"I should warn you," her father said, leaning toward him. "She's got a stubborn streak."

"I know all about it," Roy whispered back.

Julie rolled her eyes. "Who are you calling stubborn?"

"Well," her father said. "Enough squabbling. Now if you two will excuse me, I'll get ready for church."

Julie didn't stop him although there was at least an hour before they needed to leave. She heard him turn on the radio in his