Shirley, Goodness and Mercy(7)

“She loved him deeply,” Mercy added, shaking her head. “When Greg turned his back on her, she was devastated.”

“Then she gave birth to Edward and raised him on her own, and had trouble trusting men again for a very long time.”

“She didn’t marry until Edward was nearly eight.” Shirley recounted the facts as she remembered them. “But she’s very happy now….”

“Does she have other children?”

“A daughter, who’s a child psychologist,” Shirley supplied. “They meet every Friday for lunch on Fisherman’s Wharf.”

“That’s on the waterfront, isn’t it?” Mercy brightened.

Shirley cast her fellow angel a quelling look. She didn’t want to say it, but Mercy’s obsession with ships was beginning to bother her. Oh, my, she didn’t know how she was going to get through this holiday season with Goodness and Mercy and still have any kind of effect on Greg Bennett. As much fun as it was to enjoy the things of this earth, they were on an important mission and didn’t have time to get sidetracked.

“Meanwhile, Greg has had three wives and each one of them looks exactly like Catherine,” Goodness pointed out.

Shirley hadn’t recognized that, but as soon as Goodness made the observation, she knew it was true. “Only he doesn’t see there’s a pattern here,” she murmured.

“He hasn’t opened his eyes wide enough to see it,” Goodness said.

“Yet.” Mercy crossed her arms in a determined way that seemed to suggest she’d take great delight in telling him.

“Yet?” Shirley raised her eyebrows in warning, but continued her summary of Greg’s failings. “His only child, a son he deserted before he was born, grew up to become a noted cancer specialist, while Greg has squandered his life on wine and women.”

“Yes, and while he was trying to pick up some blond babe in a fancy bar, Edward was treating a ten-year-old leukemia patient,” Mercy said in a scornful voice.

Goodness grew quiet, which was always a dangerous sign.

“What are you thinking?” Shirley asked her.

“I’m thinking about Catherine,” Goodness confessed.

“He hasn’t seen her since college,” Shirley put in.

“But it seems to me that Greg’s been searching for her in every woman he’s met,” Goodness said thoughtfully.

“Certainly every woman he marries,” Mercy added, not concealing her disgust.

“And?” Shirley prodded. “What’s your point, Goodness?”

“Well…perhaps we should do something to help make it happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if he’s looking for Catherine, which he seems to be doing, we can make sure he finds her. He should see what she’s done with her life, how happy she is…”

“Goodness, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Shirley protested. “You know the rules as well as I do, and we’re not supposed to interfere in human lives.”

“Who said anything about interfering?”

“There isn’t any rule against sending humans in a particular direction, is there?” Mercy asked.

“No, but…” Shirley began. Goodness and Mercy, however, had disappeared before the words left her lips.

Oh, dear. Already it was starting. Already she’d lost control.

Shirley raced after the other two, hoping she could stop them in time.





Three




Greg had remained in the church longer than he’d intended. He felt a little foolish sitting there in that quiet darkened place all alone. It was almost as if…as if he was waiting for something to happen. Or for someone to appear and speak to him—which, of course, was ridiculous. God was hardly going to drop down and have a heart-to-heart with someone like him.

Other than that unaccountable feeling of anticipation, nothing out of the ordinary had occurred during the time he’d been in this church. Nevertheless, the experience had calmed him. For that half hour, Greg was able to set his troubles aside. He’d never been one to dwell on the negatives; it was far easier to push his regrets and worries from his mind, pretend they didn’t exist. Anyway, he’d always managed to surmount his business problems, even when the vineyard had suffered from other disasters—flooding or frost or even fire.

Only this time he had a gut feeling that there wasn’t going to be any last-minute rescue. This one was different. If some kind of solution didn’t turn up soon, he was going to lose everything.

At sixty he was too old to start over.

After he left the church, he began walking again, his thoughts heavy. It probably wasn’t a good idea to drive yet, so he aimlessly wandered the streets. He considered the few options he had. He could declare bankruptcy. Or he could throw himself on his brother’s mercy. Phil had become a vice president of Pacific union  , one of the largest banks in the state. He could certainly pull strings to help Greg secure a loan.