"Angels- 01 - A Season Of Angels" - читать интересную книгу автора (Macomber Debbie)

УTimmy, where are your manners?Ф Jody reminded her son.
УIТve got to check him out, donТt I?Ф
УLet me introduce you before you bombard him with questions,Ф she said.
Timmy held out his hand. УIТm Timothy Jeffery Potter.Ф
Glen stuck out his much larger hand. УGlen Francis Richardson, but donТt tell anyone my middle nameТs Francis, all right?Ф The two exchanged enthusiastic handshakes.
УI wonТt tell a soul.Ф Timmy spit on his two fingers and crossed his heart. УI promise and you can zap me with a laser gun if you find out that I have.Ф
Just then Helen Chandler came out of the family room, which was situated off the kitchen, and Jody made the introductions. УIf you donТt mind, IТm heading home. My favorite television programТs about to start and I donТt want to miss it.Ф
УIТll see you to the door,Ф Jody said. She neednТt have worried about Glen. Timmy led him back into the family room, insisting that he show Glen his baseball card collection. At this rate her dinner date would be there for hours.
УHowТd it go?Ф her mother whispered loud enough to be heard into the next county and certainly the family room.
УVery well,Ф Jody said, opening the door. She didnТt want to stand in the doorway and carry on a conversation when it was likely Glen could hear every word they were saying.
УDo you like him?Ф
УMother.Ф
УWell, do you?Ф Helen pressed.
УYes.Ф
Her mother threw back her head and shocked Jody out of five years of her life by shouting, УHallelujah!Ф
УMom,Ф Timmy called from the other room. УAre you coming? Did you know Glen has a signed Ken Griffey, Jr. baseball card?Ф
УI have to go,Ф Jody said, grateful to her son for the convenient excuse. This was neither the time nor the place for this intimate conversation with her mother. УI promise IТll call you after church tomorrow morning.Ф
УMom,Ф Timmy shouted again, Уcan Glen go to church with us?Ф
УAh .а.а.Ф Jody glanced from her mother to the other room, not knowing which way to turn.
УGo and talk to Glen and Timmy. We can chat later.Ф Before Jody could turn away, her mother impulsively reached for her and hugged her. УEverythingТs going to be just fine. I can feel it. IТve waited a good long time for this,Ф she said and kissed Jody on the cheek with a loud smack.
УMom.Ф Timmy raced into the room and grabbed her by the hand, dragging her into the other room. УIf Glen comes to church with us, youТll cook breakfast for him, wonТt you? Make something really good, though, okay, because I told him youТre a really fabulous cook.Ф He lowered his voice substantially, to a soft whisper. УJust donТt serve that liver sausage stuff you did at Christmas, it was yucky.Ф
УAll right, all right,Ф Jody said, walking into the room. It amazed her how easily Timmy had accepted Glen. Her eyes met GlenТs and he smiled at her. УYouТve got yourself quite a son, Jody. HeТs everything you said and more.Ф
УI like Glen, too,Ф Timmy announced. УI bet heТd make me a great dad.Ф

Six
УYouТre up bright and early,Ф Lloyd Fischer said when Monica came down the stairs early Sunday morning. It was still pitch dark and although Monica had tried countless times, she hadnТt been able to get back to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, Chet Costello drifted, unbidden and unwelcome, into her thoughts, planting himself in her mind and refusing to go away.
If that wasnТt bad enough, Monica was scheduled to sing with the choir that afternoon in downtown Seattle. SheТd be near the Westlake Mall, where sheТd first met Chet. The tantalizing threat of bumping into him a third time had plagued her like an overdue mortgage payment.
УI couldnТt sleep,Ф Monica mumbled, helping herself to a cup of coffee. She kept her back to her father, letting him know she wasnТt interested in conversation. She didnТt mean to be rude, but she didnТt feel up to her usual cheerful chatter.
Her father generally woke around four on Sunday mornings, enthusiastic and eager to review his sermon and make any last-minute changes. He was the first one at the church, turning on the furnace so the building would be warm when the congregation arrived. He was a gentle spirit, her father, a man who brought joy to GodТs heart. His tendency to look at the bright side of an issue was often a source of contention between them, but it was a minor fault.
One of them had to maintain a realistic outlook on life and it was the role sheТd chosen. Because of this, others tended to view her in a less than favorable light. Her father, on the other hand, was loved by all. He was a good shepherd to his flock, sensitive and gentle, steering them toward a deeper understanding of GodТs word.
Monica sluggishly stirred a teaspoon of sugar into the coffee. She wasnТt looking forward to the outing with the choir, and had toyed with the idea of digging up a plausible excuse not to go. Knowing it would have caused a hardship for the others was her only hesitation.
No, she corrected, striving for honesty, that wasnТt entirely true.
Some small, dark part of herself hungered to see Chet again. It pained and troubled her to admit that. The man had taken advantage of her, threatened her, and then, against her will, had blatantly kissed her. The mere thought of their last encounter brought a flash of heated color to her cheeks.
It mortified her to recall the way sheТd responded to him, the way she encouraged his advance, the way her body had reacted to his. No decent woman would feel the things she had, Monica was convinced of that. Patrick had kissed her several times early on in their relationship, and what sheТd experienced with him had been a small spark of tenderness. When Chet had kissed her, sheТd felt as if she were standing in the middle of a forest fire.
УAre you feeling all right?Ф her father asked, studying her closely as she sat down at the kitchen table across from him.
Now was the perfect time to say she wasnТt up to par. That was all she need do. Her father would be the one to suggest she not participate in the choirТs performance that afternoon. Naturally sheТd put up a token fuss, but heТd be adamant, insisting her health was more important, and the choir could make do without her.
УIТm fine, Dad,Ф she murmured. She braced her elbows against the edge of the table and sipped from the thick ceramic cup, wondering what it was about Chet that caused her to be so weak-willed. It was unlikely that she would run into him, although, as luck would have itЧnot that she believed in such mattersЧsheТd encountered Chet twice now within the same week.
Her father left and returned to the kitchen a moment later, dressed in his thick winter coat. He wrapped a wool scarf around his neck, slipped his hands into leather gloves, and announced, УIТm going over to the church.Ф
She acknowledged him with a nod, grateful sheТd be alone for the next several minutes. Instead of worrying about the possibility of seeing Chet, she should be praying for him. The man was clearly in need of divine intervention. One look at him told her everything she needed to know about his shabby life and immoral habits. Their all-too-brief conversations had reinforced her suspicions. He was cynical, irrational, stubborn, and only heaven knew what else.
УThen why wonТt he leave me alone?Ф she asked out loud, surprising herself with the shrill sound of her own voice.
She leaped from her chair and paced the compact kitchen. Absorbed in her thoughts, Monica continued walking about the room, circling the wooden table a number of times. SheТd prayed long and hard for God to send a man into her life, but she hadnТt asked how she was supposed to recognize him.
How she wished her mother were alive. Esther Fischer had always seemed to know what to do even in the most awkward of situations.
Her father looked surprised to see her when he returned fifteen minutes later. His nose was red and his cheeks bright with color from the short walk from the church to the parsonage.
УItТs a beautiful morning,Ф he announced cheerfully, removing his gloves, one finger at a time.
It could be blizzard conditions and her father would say the same thing. Sundays were beautiful to him no matter what the weather, because he was leading his flock in worship.
УDad,Ф Monica said, walking over to the refrigerator and taking out a carton of eggs and a package of bacon. She set them on the counter and then purposely turned around to face him. УWhen you met Mom, how did you feel? I mean, did you have an inkling that this was the woman youТd eventually love and marry?Ф
If her father thought her question was out of the ordinary, he gave no indication. УI saw your mother for the first time in church.Ф
УI know.Ф She loved the story of how her parents had met while in the college-age Sunday school class. Her motherТs family had recently moved into the area and Esther had felt shy and awkward that first Sunday.
Her father had been captivated by the beautiful young woman and had wanted to claim the empty seat beside her. Unfortunately several of the other young men had shared the same idea. While they were arguing about it, Esther had quietly stood and moved over to the chair and sat next to Lloyd. It wasnТt a wildly romantic story, but Monica had enjoyed hearing it again and again as a young girl. It had deeply impressed her that her mother, although she was only nineteen at the time, had the presence of mind to choose such a wonderful man as MonicaТs father.
Monica doubted that she had such finely tuned discrimination herself, and after meeting Chet she was convinced of it.