The Trouble With Angels Page 0,65

Well, she'd certainly told him. He strongly suspected that he deserved it. Heaven help him, he'd do what he could to buy his children Christmas gifts. It would have been much easier if Leta had agreed to do it for him.

"Mercy, just exactly what are you doing?"

The prayer ambassador looked up from her perch on top of the elevator and examined the ends of her fingernails. "Doing?"

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, either," Goodness cried.

"I'm not." Mercy checked the peephole. Joy and Ted still weren't talking to each other. The last ten minutes had been spent in complete silence.

"I need you to do something for me," Goodness said frantically. Mercy might have been swayed, but she knew her friend all too well, and dear, dear Goodness had a flair for drama. Her fellow prayer ambassador tended to exaggerate everything.

"What's happening now?"

"It's Pastor Morris. He went Christmas shopping, and it's turned into a disaster. I don't know what to do."

"What happened?" Goodness really did sound at her wits' end, but frankly Mercy had her hands full with the two stubborn humans she was dealing with at the moment. Stranding them together in the elevator had seemed like a stroke of genius earlier. Now she wasn't so certain.

Goodness wrung her hands. "Paul stopped off at a perfume counter in one of the big department stores," she began. "At first everything seemed to be going along just fine. The clerk was helping him make a selection, and he was sniffing a variety of scents. And then something went very wrong. The saleslady puffed a whiff of an old favorite into the air, and the pastor went stock still. He left the store almost immediately without buying anything."

"But why?"

"That's what I don't understand," Goodness said with an air of defeat. "He sat in his car for the longest time and stared into space."

"Do you think it might have been the perfume his wife used?"

Goodness slumped into a sitting position beside Mercy. "Of course. Now why didn't I think of that? I happened to catch a look at the name, too. Heaven Scent."

"But it isn't heaven Pastor Morris is thinking about right now."

"No," Goodness agreed sadly. "Oh, Mercy, tell me what I can do to help him."

Unfortunately Mercy was having troubles of her own. "I don't know. I'm dealing with the two most obstinate humans I've yet to meet. They're perfect for each other, and neither one is willing to admit it."

"I'm afraid that we both need a few good miracles," Goodness said. "The problem is, I feel plumb dry."

Mercy looked down on Joy and Ted, sitting on the floor as far apart as they could get from each other, and shook her head. "I could do with a miracle or two myself," she mumbled.

"How long will you be gone this time?" Karen asked, dangling her legs over the edge of Maureen's mattress.

"Not long," she promised as she packed her suitcase.

"Do I have to go with Grandma when she drives you to the airport?"

A soft smile touched the edges of Maureen's mouth. "Not this time. Grandma isn't driving me."

"Then who is?"

"Thom."

Karen practically did a flip off the bed. "Really! Just the two of you together? Is it a date?"

"Karen, please, don't make more of this than what it is. Thom happened to have business in town this afternoon, and since he was headed in that direction himself, he offered to drop me off."

"Wow. Does Paula know about this?"

"I wouldn't know." She stopped and waved an empty hanger at her daughter. "I certainly hope you two haven't been talking to each other on the phone."

"Why not?"

The question was riddled with guilt. "Because, my darling daughter, it's long distance, and we can't afford for you to be chatting with Paula."

"Oh."

Maureen decided she'd prefer to know the worst now instead of being hit with the news when the phone bill arrived. "How many times have you called her?"

"Twice," came the squeaky reply, "maybe three times."

"Okay, just don't do it again."

"Maybe four times."

"Karen!"

"I won't do it again, I promise."

"Good." Maureen closed the lid of her suitcase and slipped it off the bed. The trip was only for overnight, and she really hated to go, especially this close to Christmas. "Speaking of bills, would you bring in the mail?"

"Sure." Karen took off like a rocket on the Fourth of July in her eagerness to comply with Maureen's request. Either this unaccustomed willingness had something to do with Christmas, or she was pleased as punch about