Hearts at Home (24 page)

While they ate, each angel gave a brief report about the mortals in the household he guarded.

“Charles, Babette, and Georgie are doing well,” Zuriel announced. “Babette has learned that she carries new life, but I doubt she has any idea how many new souls reside in her womb!”

Caleb grinned. “I have relayed the news to the doctor,” he said. “I don't think he believed me, but he will keep an eye on Babette. He is curious, at least.”

Micah paused to wipe his mouth with a napkin. “All is well at the bed-and-breakfast,” he reported. “Barbara and Russell have continued to look for an apartment in Ogunquit, and Cleta is learning how to let go. By the time the Lord sends them a child, all three will have matured in wisdom and grace.”

“That is good,” Gavriel said. “Salt Gribbon has matured as well, and his health is much improved.” He shook his head. “One would think that a man of seventy years would be wise in all things, but humans often have blind spots. Salt overexerted himself the other day, but he is learning to rest in the Lord and accept each day as a precious treasure.”

“Bea and Birdie are growing, too,” Abner said. “Bea is a little sad at the thought of Birdie's moving to the lighthouse, but I'm sure the sisters will remain close. Bea experienced the intimacy of human marriage early in her life; Birdie will discover it in her later years. Both sisters now understand that marital love is a precious picture of the passion the Father feels for them.”

“Love is stirring in Dr. Marc's heart, too.” Caleb smiled when several angels looked at him with surprise on their faces. “He loves our Annie, though he is not confident about expressing his feelings. I have not spoken to Annie to know if this feeling is reciprocated.”

Gavriel shook his head. “I have not heard from the Father regarding this matter, either. But the Lord will guide you, Caleb, as you guide those to whom you minister.”

Yakov wiped his hands on a napkin. “Mike and Dana have begun to think about expanding their family, but I'm most thrilled about the changes in Buddy Franklin. He is hungry for the Word and seeking the Father's will in many areas. He has been a delight to serve.”

“Edith Wickam is hungry, too, but lately her thoughts have been too much on physical food.” A shadow moved in Gavriel's bright eyes. “Many around her have offered wisdom, but she is also surrounded by the foolish voices of men who would bind her with foolish rules and false idols. Edith has yet to learn how to trust the Father in the area of her physical appetite.”

Abner patted his round tummy. “These mortal bodies are easy to overload. Especially in winter, when we do not exercise as much.”

“Still,” Yakov countered, “the human body is easy to operate. It growls when it needs food. It stops growling when it does not. What could be simpler?”

“Humans have a gift,” Gavriel said, standing, “for making the simple complicated. But the Father is faithful, and he will give them light when they are ready to receive it.”

Their meal completed, the other angels stood as well, their chairs scraping the painted concrete floor as they lifted their hands and hearts toward heaven.

Micah began the song. One by one, the other angels joined in:

I will sing of the tender mercies of the Lord forever!

Young and old will hear of your faithfulness.

Your unfailing love will last forever.

Your faithfulness is as enduring as the heavens.

All heaven will praise your miracles, Lord;

Myriads of angels will praise you for your faithfulness.

For who in all of heaven can compare with the Lord?

What mightiest angel is anything like the Lord?

The highest angelic powers stand in awe of God.

He is far more awesome than those who surround his throne.

O Lord God Almighty!

Where is there anyone as mighty as you, Lord?

Faithfulness is your very character.

You are the one who rules the oceans.

When their waves rise in fearful storms, you subdue them.

You are the one who crushed the great sea monster.

You scattered your enemies with your mighty arm.

The heavens are yours, and the earth is yours; Everything in the world is yours—you created it all.

Your throne is founded on two strong pillars— righteousness and justice.

Unfailing love and truth walk before you as attendants.

Happy are those who hear the joyful call to worship,

For they will walk in the light of your presence.

Caleb felt a lump rise in his throat as he whispered the final words. His angelic brothers were wondrous beings, but they were still only pale shadows of the One who loved, sustained, and held the universe together by the sheer force of his will.

Faithfulness was his character. Faithfulness was his name.

Chapter Eighteen

W
iping a tear from her cheek, Annie switched off the
E.R
. rerun before the local news could come on and destroy the mood. Doctors Carter and Corday had been unable to save an elderly woman with heart trouble, and the sad scene where Dr. Carter had to face the woman's weeping daughter had cut a little too close to Annie's reality.

She pulled a tissue from the box on the nightstand, then blew her nose so forcefully her ears popped. She'd wept like a baby through the last ten minutes of the TV drama, and now her head felt swollen.

Three weeks had passed since Olympia had sailed away, and not a single lobsterman, pleasure boat, or Coast Guard cutter had been able to capture the casket. The last report, called in by a Canadian cruise ship, had the casket moving toward Greenland.

Annie felt more helpless than Dr. Carter.

“Stupid show,” she muttered, wadding the tissue into a ball. She tossed it in the general direction of the trash-can, then hesitated when she saw the lilac envelope on the bedside table.

The invitation to Salt's and Birdie's wedding had arrived in the afternoon mail, and Annie had been surprised to read that the great event had been pushed forward. They were planning to tie the knot at four o'clock on Thursday afternoon, a mere three days away.

Annie regarded the invitation with mixed feelings. She was genuinely happy for the couple, but it was hard to rejoice for friends when your own heart was heavy with loss and discouragement. It would be hard to face the islanders as a failure in Olympia's cause . . . and even harder to tell them that she and A.J. were kaput.

Lately Annie had begun to wonder if she would ever find love at all.

Maybe she could come up with some project to work on later in the week. Then she could call Caleb and beg out of the wedding. Salt and Birdie would have eyes for only each other; they certainly wouldn't miss her. The only locals who'd even notice her absence would be Tallulah, Caleb, and—she drew in a sharp breath. Would Dr. Marc care if she didn't come?

A silly question, really. The man had a lot on his plate; he certainly didn't have time to entertain fond feelings for his son's ex-girlfriend.

Sighing, she leaned over and turned out the lamp. Darkness engulfed her bedroom, held at bay only by the thin sliver of light edging the bottom of her window shade.

After beating her lumpy pillow into submission, Annie curled up beneath her comforter and tucked her hands beneath her chin. She had felt listless and irritable all day, feelings that had bloomed into outright depression when she had picked up the mail and discovered an official letter from the Durpee Seed Company behind the wedding invitation. Jack Wilson, president of hybrid development, had written to announce officially that she would not receive any compensation for her tomato hybrid. The Durpee Seed Company, however, appreciated her fine efforts and wished her the best in her future endeavors. . . .

“Yada, yada, yada,” she murmured into her pillow. “Sure, you wish me the best. Everyone wishes me well, including A.J.”

The man hadn't called all this week, not once. If she called him, he'd undoubtedly be pleasant and polite, but she knew her refusal to drop everything and move to New York had frosted his feelings. Any other girl would have been highly flattered by his invitation, but Olympia had always said Annie wasn't like other girls.

A drowsy smile curved her mouth as she drifted toward sleep. Olympia used to stand at the threshold of Annie's bedroom and shake her head.
Honestly, girl, what's wrong
with you? You're too much like your mother, going around with
your head in the clouds, without a lick of horse sense. . . .

Weeks of frustration and indecision were bearing Annie down with an irresistible warm weight. Her mind went fuzzy, surrendering to the relentless pull of sleep, and her thoughts drifted amid memories of the day until a sharp voice called her brain back to attention: “Wake up, Annie. We need to talk.”

Her eyes flew open. She was still curled in bed, the streetlights still fringed the edges of the window shade, but something in the room had changed. Another light had brought a pale luminescence to the room, for something glowed at the foot of her bed.

A thrill of fear shot through Annie as she lifted her head and saw Olympia sitting on the edge of the mattress, her lips set in a firm line, her hands folded primly upon her lap.

Annie squinched her eyelids tight. “Go away! I don't believe in ghosts!”

“Neither do I, so sit up and speak to me properly. I'm not a ghost, I'm your aunt.”

“But you're . . . gone.”

“I'm spirit now, and I'm in heaven. But I see what's going on with you, and you're about to drive me crazy with all your teeter-tottering back and forth. For heaven's sake, Annie, I didn't leave you the house so you'd be miserable.” The visitor's voice softened. “I meant it to be a gift, not a burden.”

Annie opened one eye. Olympia no longer sat at the foot of the bed; she had moved to the empty chair by the nightstand.

Right in Annie's line of vision.

“I don't believe in ghosts,” she repeated. “Go away.”

The phantom exhaled loudly. “For the last time, Annie, I'm not a ghost. This is a vision the Lord's allowing you to experience. Didn't you pray for guidance?”

Annie rose to one elbow. “Well . . . yeah, I guess I did. But I didn't ask for this. And I don't feel like I'm sleeping.”

“Dreamers rarely know they're dreaming until they wake. But I didn't come here to talk about your sleep patterns. I came to talk some sense into your head.”

Despite the bizarre quality of this dream, Annie couldn't resist rolling her eyes. Whether this was a byproduct of sleep or hysteria, her subconscious had done a dandy job of replicating Aunt Olympia. The stiff image in her chair was somber and serious, but definitely not malevolent.

“Okay.” Annie propped her head on her hand. “Talk away. I guess I'm a captive audience.”

Olympia's right brow arched. “If I'd known talking to you in your sleep would make you listen, I'd have done it years ago—”

Annie cut her off with a yawn. “Aunt Olympia, I'm too tired for this, I need my sleep. Can you please get to the point?”

Her glowing visitor drew back as if affronted. “Have it your way. I'm here to tell you that you're making yourself miserable. The Lord doesn't want you to be miserable; he wants you to rejoice in his perfect will. So find it, follow it, and you'll be fine.”

Annie guffawed. “That's easier said than done. How in the world am I supposed to find God's will? He doesn't exactly carve life directions on stone tablets these days, in case you hadn't noticed.”

Olympia made a huffing noise. “Of all people, you should find it easy. You've got Caleb—”

“Caleb's talking nonsense these days. He wants to leave Frenchman's Fairest and find another employer.”

“—and you've got a town full of people who love the Lord and love you. They wouldn't steer you wrong.”

“I've been talking to people.” Annie sat up straighter. “I've talked to Dr. Marc and A.J. Neither of them will tell me what to do.”

“You're not a child, Annie.” A faint light of reproof glowed in the visitor's eyes. “You're old enough to make your own decisions. All you lack is the courage.”

Drawing a deep breath, Annie rose to a full sitting position, then bent her knees beneath the covers. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she lowered her head and sighed. “It's not that easy,” she mumbled into her comforter. “This decision is such a big one; it will affect everything for the rest of my life.”

“A crossroad,” Olympia said. “We all come to them. And the Lord promises to guide us if we listen.”

“I've been listening!” Annie's brittle laugh sounded more like a cry of pain. “I'm so confused, Aunt Olympia. I thought I loved A.J., but lately I don't think I do. I was all excited when I first met him—he was handsome, successful, and wealthy enough to do exciting things—but now, I don't know. He's awfully focused on his career, he's terribly busy, and I find myself wondering if he cares enough . . . for me, that is.”

“Honey, listen to me.”

Annie turned her head to better see the figment of her overactive imagination.

“Sweetheart, love isn't a feeling—feelings are the byproducts of love. Love is a choice. It's a decision you make when you find someone you want to make precious to you.”

Annie blinked slowly, wondering if she was losing the dream signal or something. The figment was beginning to speak in riddles. Soon Olympia would start to fade away, or maybe she'd morph into Birdie or Bea or the wicked witch from
The Wizard of Oz.

“A decision?” she echoed.

“Of course.” The preternatural Olympia leaned forward, her hands folded. “When you came to live with us, I didn't love you all at once. But Edmund and I decided that you'd become precious to us, and you did. Love followed naturally.” A glow rose in the woman's face, like a lantern burning behind an oilskin shade. “I still love you, Annie, and so does Edmund. Most of all, our Lord loves you. He cares for you more than you realize, and he is waiting for you to take a step. He'll guide you . . . once you start walking.”