Roy said.
“Yes, please.” Anne felt so full of happiness she was practically overwhelmed. So much good news, and all at once.
“Anne …” Julie’s tentative voice came over Anne’s cell phone.
“Julie, Merry Christmas!” Anne burst out. “Roy gave me this phone for Christmas, and you’re the first call I’ve made on it. I always thought of them as a nuisance, but tonight it’s worth its weight in gold. I understand my son’s finally come to his senses and asked you to marry him.”
“He did and it didn’t take me long to answer him, either.”
“You’re going to be a beautiful bride and exactly the wife he needs.”
“Thank you—I certainly plan to try. I feel so blessed.”
“Oh, me, too,” Anne said fervently.
“I’ll give the phone back to Roy now.”
Anne could hear soft, loving sounds as the phone was transferred back to her son. “All right, Mother,” Roy said, “I’m glad you’re using your new cell. Now what’s your news?”
“You won’t believe this,” she said again, and because she couldn’t help it, she broke into giggles.
“Then tell me,” Roy said.
“My painting of the angel sold.”
“Congratulations! From the excitement in your voice, it must’ve been for a lot of money. The last I heard, you thought it might go for as much as twenty-five thousand.”
“Try a hundred and fifty.”
“What?”
“A bidding war drove up the price, but that’s not the best part.”
“What’s the best part? What could possibly be better than that?”
“Oh, Roy, just you wait until I tell you who bought the painting.” She paused, relishing the justice of it. “The check was written by Burton Fletcher. Your father.”
Her announcement was followed by shocked silence.
“Why would Dad write you a check for that amount of money?” Roy finally asked.
“First,” Anne explained, “he didn’t know it was me.”
“But—”
“Since I paint under the name of Mary Fleming, your father had no way of knowing that the woman who painted the angel was his ex-wife. Marta knew, of course, and she already had someone else interested, so she was able to use the other party to drive up the price.”
“Go back to the beginning,” Roy said.
“Marta—you remember my college friend who runs an art gallery here in New York?”
“Yes, yes, of course I remember her. You’re staying at her place. Go on with your story.”
“Well, when she shipped the painting to New York and hung it in the gallery, she put up a sign that said it wasn’t for sale. But then Aimee came into the gallery and fell in love with it.”
“Aimee,” Roy repeated. “When she stopped by the office, she’d obviously been on a recent shopping spree. And, of course, there was her bargain with Dad—a phone call from me in exchange for … your painting, as it turns out.”
“She wanted my angel in the worst way.”
“And Dad actually forked out that kind of money to buy it for her.”
“He did,” Anne said, unable to keep the laughter from her voice. “But he had no idea he was giving me a big chunk of what I should’ve gotten in the first place. He cheated me with the divorce settlement and now …”
“You always did say that what goes around comes around,” Roy said, sounding as satisfied as she was. “I think that painting must be very special.”
“Thank you, Roy. I do, too, but I never dreamed it would sell for such an outrageous amount of money.”
“Does Dad know yet?” her son asked.
“I’m not telling him.” Although it was tempting to do so, Anne had resisted. “I suspect that sooner or later he’ll discover it on his own.”
“Yes, I suppose he will. I’d love to be a fly on the wall when he figures it out.”
“There’s more good news,” Anne said, unable to contain herself. “Marta said she could sell as many angel paintings as I want to paint. There seems to be a real demand for them now. I think I’ve finally found my niche.”
“That’s great, Mom.”
Her son seemed genuinely pleased for her. “I’m planning to paint one for you and Julie as a wedding gift. It seems to me that we’ve all had angels watching over us.”
“We’d like that very much.”
“Marta and her husband—”
“I thought they’d separated.”
Anne had nearly forgotten. With so much else going on, her friend’s news had slipped her mind. “Jack and Marta are back together. Jack was seeing someone else, but apparently it wasn’t as serious as Marta assumed. They’re going to a counselor and are determined to work on their marriage.”
“I’m glad for them.”
“Life just seems to get better and better,” Anne said, sighing softly, tired now and elated at the same time.
“Yes, it does,” her son agreed. “Better and better.”
“We did it!” Goodness was thrilled. Leaping up and down in the choir loft at the First Christian Church of North Seattle, she didn’t even try to sit still. The church was rapidly filling as families streamed in from the vestibule.
Roy, Julie and Dean walked into the crowded sanctuary and found seats near the front. They were too late to find a pew in the back, where Dean preferred to sit.
“Isn’t the altar lovely?” Shirley said with a sigh, pointing toward the poinsettias arranged around the table that held the Advent wreath. All four candles were lit, their flames flickering, little dances of delight.
“I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen Roy propose to Julie with my own eyes,” Mercy said contentedly. “I have to tell you, scenes like this always get to me.”
“Do they now,” Gabriel said from behind them.
Shirley, Goodness and Mercy whirled around to face the Archangel. Goodness held her breath, convinced that Gabriel was going to chastise them for their earthly manipulations. They’d become far more involved in the things of the world than ever before, but surely Gabriel had made allowances on their behalf, knowing the challenge they’d had with Roy.
“Did you see Roy and Julie?” Goodness pointed. The proof of their success was sitting directly below.
“I did,” Gabriel said, and nodded approvingly. “I must say you three used some unconventional methods to fulfill your mission. Tell me, what did Roy learn from all this?”
A prayer couldn’t be answered unless there was a lesson learned.
“His lesson was about love,” Shirley answered. “His mother’s love touched him. Her prayers for her son were heard by all of Heaven, and God sent us to show Roy that he could find love.”
“Very good,” Gabriel said. “But then, you always knew that, didn’t you, Shirley?”
The former Guardian Angel nodded. “I did. Anne was such a special child. I knew she’d grow up to be a special woman, and I was right.”
“Can you give us a peek into the future?” Mercy asked,