It was early morning a few days later when Kitty’s phone rang.
She cast a glance at the clock, wondering who would be calling her so early. “Hello?”
“You win.”
“Jericho?”
“Look, if you’re going to gloat—”
“No, no. I wouldn’t dream of it.” She frowned. “But would you mind telling me what it is I’m not gloating over?”
Silence.
“Jericho?”
“I still don’t think God is just sitting there, ready to jump in and take care of our every little problem. I just want that clear right up front, OK?”
Her heart started to beat faster. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? She forced her tone to remain even. “OK.”
“All right. I got four calls yesterday. From clients.”
“And?”
“And they want to postpone the work they contracted me to do for them.”
“You’re kidding!”
“I don’t kid about my work, Kitty.”
“Right.” Good thing he wasn’t there to see the grin spreading over her face. “That’s true. Should have remembered that. So . . . ?”
“So I find myself with several months of open time and—”
“You’ll do the work on my house!” She couldn’t stop the glee that filled her words.
“You’re gloating.”
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t gloating—it was happiness. But I’ll behave.” Though she blew that promise right out the window with the next breath. “Sooooo, kind of looks like God got involved after all, huh?”
“I’m hanging up now.”
She laughed at the gloomy disgust in his tone. “OK, OK, I’ll be good.”
“That”—his tone grew even darker—“will be the day.”
“Sourpuss.”
“Pollyanna.”
She laughed again. “See you in the morning?”
“Bright and early. You’d better have coffee.”
“I always do. Tomorrow then.” She knew she sounded revoltingly perky, but she didn’t care. God was at work, and she was so excited she could hardly stand it.