Debbie Macomber by Where Angels Go Page A

Peter’s taking the bus. We arrive at eleven and, depending on the weather, he should get in around noon.”
    â€œThe train’s always late.”
    â€œOh, ye of little faith.”
    â€œI have a lot of faith,” her mother said. “But I happen to be practical, too.”
    â€œWe took that into consideration, Mother. The bus could be late, too, you know.”
    â€œYes, of course.”
    â€œWe’re meeting by the gazebo in the center of town at four o’clock.”
    â€œWhy not earlier?” her mother demanded.
    Beth sighed. “I’m there to spend the day with Heidi, remember? Besides, if this doesn’t work out…”
    â€œFine,” Joyce said dismissively. “But how will you recognize each other?”
    Beth described their plan. Peter would be carrying a single long-stemmed red rose and wearing a baseball cap with a Seahawks emblem. She, meanwhile, would be wearing a full-length navy wool coat and a red knit hat and muffler.
    They should be able to find each other without difficulty. Then they’d watch the tree-lighting ceremony together. The train was scheduled to depart at six-thirty; his bus would leave shortly after that. They’d spend just a couple of hours in each other’s company—a safe length of time whether the meeting went well or not. He hadn’t said so, but Beth had the distinct feeling that if this meeting did go well, Peter would ask to see her again on Sunday.
    â€œYou sound so hopeful,” her mother said.
    â€œI am.” Beth had a positive feeling about this.
    â€œWhat if…what if Peter isn’t as good-looking as you expect?” She seemed genuinely concerned that this might be a possibility.
    â€œIt doesn’t matter.” John had been drop-dead gorgeous. She’d been the envy of all her friends, and what she’d discovered was that good looks made very little difference. Most important was character. Moral fiber, sense of honor and kindness were far more compelling qualities in Beth’s eyes.
    â€œYou say that now,” her mother warned, “but you might change your mind once you meet him.”
    â€œPerhaps.” But even as she said it, Beth was convinced that her feelings wouldn’t change. If there was anything she’d learned from her divorce, it was that looks could be deceiving. John had been completely self-absorbed, selfish, irresponsible…. It was pointless to rehash his shortcomings, of which there’d been plenty.
    They finished their lunch and because she had a few minutes to spare, Beth and her mother did some window-shopping. Seattle was a magical city at Christmastime. Beth loved the festive air—the decorations everywhere, the cheerful crowds, the music. Entertainers sang and played instruments. She and Joyce stopped to listen to a violinist whose rendition of “Silent Night” was exquisite as people bustled to and from stores with their bags and packages. The cold wind stung her face and she glanced up at the sky for any sign of snow. Her step was lighter and for the first time in years she felt a rush of joyful anticipation about Christmas.
    Her mother wasn’t the only one to notice her improved mood. Lloyd, the attorney who’d introduced her to the World of Warcraft, commented on it when she returned from lunch.
    â€œYou seem to be mighty happy about something,” he said, smiling at her.
    â€œI am,” she responded cryptically.
    At closing time, she hurried home. As soon as she was back in her condo, Beth logged online, hoping Peter would be there.
    He was.
    Did you have a good day? he typed.
    Great. What about you?
    He didn’t reply immediately. It couldn’t have been better, he eventually wrote. Thank you for listening while I poured out my woes about my marriage last night. I don’t often talk about it. I wouldn’t have with you, but in all fairness I felt you needed to know.
    Peter, thank you,