14

Angie hadn’t heard from Adam since he left her house Monday morning. When she received no reply to her texts about going downtown this Saturday, she called Josh at the church. Yes, they were still going to hand out socks, hats, and gloves to the homeless. And yes, she could go, but she’d probably be the only woman.

She pulled into the church parking lot at nine twenty. Ten minutes early. A van with its engine running was parked in front of the church gym. So, Adam might not come today. He might have changed his mind.

She’d have to decide whether she would go. Yes, she’d go. She parked and turned off her car. As she got out, Adam pulled his car into the parking lot. She took a deep breath. He was here.

The volunteers formed a circle. “Thanks to you all for coming,” Josh spoke up. “We have ten black bags full of clothes to be handed out. Be sure you stay in groups of two or three at all times. Let us pray.”

She stood between Josh and a doctor named Daniel whom she’d met when she worked at Clinton’s Closet. As Josh prayed, she opened her eyes and looked across the circle at Adam. He was staring at her. When her gaze locked onto his, he closed his eyes.

While Josh drove the bus downtown, Daniel stood in the front and stressed the importance of staying with the group in which they were placed. He assigned her to Josh and Adam. They pulled into the lot of a fast-food restaurant and parked the bus. Across the street below a highway underpass, a group of homeless people had constructed makeshift shelters out of whatever materials they could find: plywood, cardboard, tents. Compassion knotted her chest. The woman who gave her birth, who chose drugs over her child, who rejected the love of her parents, might have lived in a place just like this. Tears burned her eyes.

Josh drew her close. “It’s tough.”

Unable to speak, she nodded.

“Adam, why don’t you and Angie get the food.”

She followed Adam into the restaurant. A manager greeted them. He shook Adam’s hand. “Good to see you again, man.”

Adam grinned. “Same here.” He gestured toward Angie. “This is Angela. She’s new to the church. Angie, this is Jared. We go way back.”

Jared offered her his hand. “A little too far back. You want to know any of the dirt on this guy, I’m your man.” He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” She liked him immediately.

Adam held out a credit card. “For the food.”

Jared handed the card to one of the cashiers, while other employees carried containers of boxed meals out onto the patio area of the restaurant.

Adam got his credit card back and spoke to her for the first time today. “Do you want to stay here and hand out meals?”

She shrugged. “What will you do?”

“Give out clothes and pray with the men.”

“I want to be with you guys.”

He slowly shook his head. “Suit yourself. You can hand out socks. One pack per person.”

The line behind the back of the bus had already formed as word must have spread.

She took her place by the bin of socks.

Men composed the majority of the group, but a few women were mixed in. Very few. Her chest tightened. To have no family, no friends, no place to go for help. No one to care about you. Or even know you existed. A woman stopped in front of her. Angie dropped a pack of socks into the shopping bag the church had provided. And then she added a second.

“Thank you, miss.” Her eyes filled.

Angie leaned forward and hugged her. “Can I pray for anything with you?”

She shook her head. “Lots of people pray. Few people come. You’re praying with your hands and feet. Bless you.”

Angie was on her third bin of socks when it hit her. She’d had way too much coffee to drink this morning. Josh and Adam were praying with a couple of men. If she hurried, she might be back before they realized she was gone.

~*~

Adam handed the man, John, a coat. “This should fit.”

“Thank you kindly, sir. I ain’t had me such a fine coat in a long time.”

Adam shook his hand and turned. “Be sure you get some socks—”

Angie was gone. He moved down to her spot, grabbed a pack of socks and dropped it into John’s bag. “God bless you.”

He scanned the knot of volunteers. No Angie. Here was not the place to wander off. He headed back over toward Josh. “Angie’s gone.”

“I’m sure there’s an explanation. If she’s not back soon, we’ll call the police.”

The restaurant door opened, and Angie came strolling out.

Adam met her and drew her aside. He leaned in close. “Where have you been?”

A smirk covered her face. “In the bathroom. I figured that was better than the alternative.”

“You should have told one of us.”

She stepped away. “I haven’t had to ask permission to use the bathroom since elementary school, and I’m not going to start now. And especially from you.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.” He grasped her hand.

“Right. If you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do. I wouldn’t want to get fired for negligence.” She jerked her hand away and marched to her station.

Adam took his place beside Josh.

The pastor elbowed him and then shook his head, a knowing smile covering his face.

~*~

Angie stared out the van window as the city rushed by. She had no idea why she’d snapped at Adam like that. An apology would come. But not yet. She had to figure out the cause before she could fix the problem.

The van pulled into the church lot and everyone unloaded. Josh held up a hand and waved them close. “Thanks to you all for your service today. You were the hands and feet of Jesus to some people who really needed it. Let’s pray. Daniel, you start, and I’ll close.”

They held hands, and Daniel prayed. Then a few of the other team members did the same, and Josh closed. Both she and Adam remained silent. She opened her eyes to see Adam heading toward his truck.

Josh stepped up beside her. “Got time for a cup of coffee?”

She nodded.

“Meet you at The Perks after I close up the church.”

She climbed into her car and headed toward the coffee shop. Today had been rewarding, uplifting, and extremely frustrating. On one hand, she had a man she didn’t love wanting to marry her, and on the other, she had a man she wanted to love who was treating her like a child. She pulled into one of the parking spaces and leaned her head against the steering wheel. She took a deep breath and then climbed out of the car.

She ordered a latte, slipped into a booth, and waited. Josh came through the door. Half of the patrons acknowledged his arrival as he shook hands. He may as well have been a politician. The barista handed him his usual, and he headed toward her.

He slipped into the booth across from her. “Glad you came today. I hope it’ll become an annual occurrence.”

“Me, too.” Warmth seeped into her fingers as she wrapped her hands around her mug.

“You enjoying working at the school?” He blew across the top of his coffee.

She’d only known him for a few days, but she could tell he was stalling. “I love the school. The philosophy, the parents, and teachers. I’m so glad God led me here.”

“We are, too.” He leaned back and rested an arm on the top of the seat.

Here it came.

“Adam’s dad, Clint, was one of the first friends I made after I moved here. So, I’ve known Adam all his life. I performed his baby dedication. I baptized him as a young man. I watched him fight to live after the accident that took his father and almost took him. He’s had a tough road, and he’s risen above it all. Well, almost all of it.”

“I remember the accident. My church prayed for him and his family. I sent him a card. Which he still has.” Unwanted tears burned her eyes.

Josh’s gaze pierced deep. “Adam’s a lot like his father. Determined, driven. He doesn’t like to take no for an answer when he wants something. And maybe that’s what got him through after the accident. But he would never deliberately do anything to hurt anyone he loved.”

Josh took a drink of his coffee and then set down the cup. “You know, guys are raised to be strong…even when they’re not. Never admit weakness. You get hurt…walk it off. But this is the thing. We’re all damaged. All imperfect. All hurt. It’s just that some wounds are harder to hide than others. They can’t be covered up. And when a guy finds a gal he cares for, he wants her to be able to look past his faults, his wounds, and think he hung the moon.”

~*~

Angie curled up on the sofa and pulled one of Grammy’s afghans over her feet. Carols played in the background as the soft lights of the Christmas tree warmed the room. She understood what Adam meant when he said he was choosing Christmas. Unconditional, sacrificial love. Redemption.

She balanced a dictionary on her lap and flattened the notecard against it. She had no idea how to start. “I was an idiot…a brat…a jerk…”

Her doorbell rang. She peeked out between the curtains. Adam’s truck. Great. She probably looked just like she felt. Exhausted. She took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair. Then she opened the door.

The man she was coming to love held out a poinsettia. “Would you believe the florist didn’t have a peace lily this time of year?”

She stepped back and motioned for him to enter. “Never thought about it. But I like this better, anyway. More festive.”

He set the plant on the coffee table and shifted from one foot to another.

She gestured toward the sofa. “Have a seat. Make yourself at home.”

He eased down. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything. I was afraid if I called, you wouldn’t answer.”

She shook her head. “I was just starting to write a note of apology to this guy I kind of like, but that I yelled at earlier today.”

He nodded. “I know him, and I think he might be blaming himself.” He reached over and brushed his fingertips across her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

She scooted next to him. “Me, too.” The silent seconds that passed seemed like an eternity.

He rubbed his thumb across her ring finger. “So…what about the ring box that was on the coffee table the other day?”

“Oh. You saw that…”

He nodded.

“I turned him down. He wanted me to keep it. But I’m giving him time to cool off, and then I’ll return it. Would’ve never worked out.”

“You don’t think so?”

She turned to face him. “I know so.”

He squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Really?”

“Maybe not too much.” He smiled.

She leaned her head on his shoulder. The warm spiciness of his cologne enticed her, and she snuggled closer.

He rested his head on hers. “You know, I had the strangest thought on my way over here. If we got married, you wouldn’t have to change your monogram.”

She drew away and grinned at him. “And neither would you.”

His eyes sparkled golden in the Christmas lights.

“There’s only one problem with that theory, counselor.”

He sat up straight, his brow wrinkling. “Which is?”

“I would never consider marrying a man I hadn’t kissed regardless of his monogram.”

He nodded his head. “I concur. Such wisdom and beauty swirled together in one magnificent creation.” He grasped her hand, stood, and drew her against his body. He rested his forehead on hers. A smile warmed his face. “Let’s see if we can’t overrule that objection.”

The smile disappeared. His eyes locked onto hers as his arms enfolded her. His spicy scent overpowered her. She fought to breathe. Her heartbeat quickened. His lips found hers.

His kiss was soft and sweet at first but became more demanding, deeper as the seconds passed. She melted against him and never wanted to leave the comfort of his arms. She ached for more. But not tonight. He drew away, and when she leaned her head back, he brushed tiny electric kisses against her neck. She rested her head against his chest, and they rocked back and forth.

He placed his finger under her chin and drew her face upward. A longing simmered in his eyes.

“Oh, Adam. The joy, the love, the forgiveness I feel. I want every day to be like this.”

He placed his lips against her ear. “It can be,” he whispered. “Just choose Christmas.”