be. Emily was like their mother, small and delicate, with blue eyes and wavy blond hair. A classic beauty. Julie took after her father’s side of the family. Her hair and eyes were a deep shade of brown. Tall, strong and solidly built, she was a natural athlete. She’d played center in basketball, pitcher in softball and was a track star all through high school and college.
While boys had flocked around Emily, they’d mostly ignored her sister. Emily had brains, as well as looks, and although Julie had brains, too, she wasn’t pretty the way her sister was. It had never bothered her until recently, when she’d turned thirty. Her sister was married, and so were most of her friends. Sure, she dated, but the number of eligible men had dwindled as the years went on. With her mother growing increasingly ill, Julie hadn’t worried about it much. But now … She sighed. Like her father in his job search, Julie had given up hope of meeting the right man. For a woman over thirty, the pickings were slim.
The phone rang, and Julie and her father both turned to stare at it.
“Let the machine pick it up,” he said. That had been a hard and fast rule during her teenage years—no telephone call was worth disrupting family time at the dinner table.
“You sure?” Julie asked.
Her father nodded and continued eating. “You did a good job on the meat loaf.”
“It’s Mom’s recipe, remember?”
Her father grinned. “It might surprise you to learn she got it from a ‘Dear Abby’ column.”
The phone rang again. “No way!” This was news to Julie.
Her father chuckled. “That broccoli salad I like came out of the paper, too.”
Her mother had never told her this, but then it was Emily who usually hung around the kitchen. Julie was always at basketball practice or some sporting event. There’d been so many things her mother had never had the opportunity to tell her. Unimportant things, like this, and other things—revelations, advice—that really mattered. How Julie wished she could go back and recapture all those precious hours with her mother. If only she’d known …
The answering machine clicked on and they heard a disgruntled male voice. “This is Roy Fletcher.”
Without thinking, Julie launched herself toward the phone, whipping the receiver off the cradle before Fletcher could end the call. “Hello,” she gasped. “I assume you want to speak to my father?”
“Yes, if your father is Dean Wilcoff.”
Her dad was right; the man’s voice was devoid of the slightest warmth.
“Just a moment,” she said, handing him the receiver.
“Dean Wilcoff,” he said gruffly, frowning at Julie. His look said that if it’d been up to him, he would’ve left Roy Fletcher cooling his heels. Fortunately Julie had been closest to the phone.
She bit her lower lip as she studied her father. This had to be good news. Roy Fletcher wouldn’t phone to tell a man he’d chosen another candidate for the job.
Her father’s eyes widened. “Before I accept the position, I have a few questions.”
Julie wanted to wave her arms over her head and scream. Her father needed this job and not only for financial reasons. Oh, Dad, don’t blow this now. It was too important.
After what seemed like an hour but was probably five minutes, her father replaced the receiver.
Julie could barely contain her anxiety. “Well?”
“I’m seeing Mr. Fletcher in the morning to discuss my questions.” The smallest hint of a smile touched his mouth.
“For better or worse, it looks like I’ve got the job if I want it.” “Oh, Dad! That’s terrific news.” “That, my dear Julie, remains to be seen.”
Three
“Would you care to meet Anne Fletcher for yourselves?” Gabriel asked, eyeing the trio.
Goodness couldn’t believe their good fortune. She nodded and smiled as Mercy eagerly agreed. It’d been so long since they’d visited Earth with its manifold delights. The place was definitely interesting—and appealing—but completely unlike Heaven. Earth was also dangerous, full of exotic allures and various temptations. Heaven, on the other hand … well, eyes hadn’t seen or ears heard all that awaited those in glory.
Shirley’s face brightened. “Could we visit Anne for just a little while? I haven’t seen her in years.”
“At one time she routinely prayed for her son,” Gabriel explained as he guided them out of his quarters and to a convenient location to view Anne’s little spot on Earth. “For quite a while after the divorce, she brought Roy’s hardened heart to God’s attention, but when she didn’t see results, her faith weakened. Now only an infrequent prayer comes our way.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Shirley whispered. “When I was assigned to her mother …” She paused and looked up guiltily, as if afraid she’d said more than permissible. “I’m sure all Anne really wants is for her son to be happy.”
“But happiness is a condition of the mind, not of circumstances,” Gabriel reminded them. “That appears to be a most difficult lesson for humans. They expect to find happiness in things, which we all know is impossible.” Sadly he shook his head. “They repeatedly fail to see what should be perfectly logical.”
“Humans require a lot of patience,” Goodness said, trying hard to sound knowledgeable.
Gabriel studied the trio, as though gauging how much he could trust them if he did grant them passage back to Earth. Goodness did her utmost to look serene and confident. She fully intended to be good, but she couldn’t count on Mercy. Shirley was iffy, too. Her friend seemed to have a special fondness for Anne, and there was no telling what she’d do once they arrived on Earth.
Goodness didn’t begrudge Gabriel his doubts. The trio always left Heaven with the best intentions, but when they began to mingle with humans, their powers to resist grew increasingly weak. They found it impossible not to interfere in situations that hadn’t been assigned to them—which inevitably got them into trouble.
Gabriel’s gaze was drawn back to the big blue sphere, the view of Earth from Heaven.
Goodness peered closer but couldn’t make out anything yet. Gabriel would need to bring everything into focus.
“Yes, I’m afraid that where her son is concerned, Anne’s lost hope,” the Archangel murmured sadly. “She doesn’t understand that some things need to be believed in order to be seen.”
Goodness was impressed. “That’s so wise.”
“Poor Anne,” Shirley whispered, her brow wrinkled in worry.
“We can help her, I’m sure,” Mercy insisted, sidling next to Shirley. “Anne needs us.” She glanced from Gabriel to Shirley, looking for confirmation.
Goodness bit her tongue to keep from chastising her friend. They couldn’t act too eager, otherwise Gabriel might become suspicious. He might wonder if they had ulterior motives for wanting to visit Earth. As unobtrusively as possible, she made a small waving motion with her hand, hoping Mercy would get the message.
“Of course,” Mercy added with an exaggerated sigh, “there are any number of angels more qualified than the three of us.”
“Yes, there are,” Gabriel said bluntly.
“I thought you said we could see her from here,” Shirley said, squinting through the thick cloud cover.
For a moment Gabriel seemed to be having second thoughts. His expression became more severe as he stared at them. Little wonder humans were terrified of Gabriel, Goodness reflected. His imposing stature was enough to intimidate the bravest men. That was one reason, she supposed, that