Faithfully Yours. Lois Richer

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СКАЧАТЬ he has a special girlfriend he’s interested in.”

      “What word is that, dear?” Hope asked mildly confused.

      “Relationship. My Donald and I never had a relationship, not once in thirty-five years. We had love and friendship and care and concern and sometimes arguments, but we never had anything as cold as a relationship.” Faith spat the word out with disgust.

      “Young people today do have a different way of looking at things,” Hope agreed. Her blond brows drew together as she asked curiously, “And does Jeremy have a relationship with someone?”

      Charity watched Hope twist her fingers together as she lounged in her chair. It was that unusual activity that gave the younger woman away, she decided. Hope never fidgeted. Charity wondered what her friend was up to.

      “No,” Faith answered the question sadly. “Jeremy says he’s far too involved in his career to bother with females right now. He really wants to make a success of this school year.” Her face drooped as she told them about her great-nephew’s visit two or three nights before. “He was most uncomplimentary about my natural garden. Said it resembled a weed patch more than a flower garden. He even pulled up a few of my special species.”

      “He would.” Hope’s tones were dry. “He’s got his nose buried so far into his policy-and-procedure manuals he can’t see real people in front of him. Jeremy Nivens needs to realize that life is about more than school and books.”

      “He doesn’t like me to have the fireplace going, either,” Faith told them solemnly. “He said I’m liable to kill myself with it.”

      “It’s gas,” Hope cried. “It shuts itself off. What in the world is he so concerned about?”

      Faith shrugged her shoulders tiredly, a wan smile curving her full lips.

      “Jeremy worries about me, my dears. He’s much like his father was, always fussing about things.”

      “Well,” Hope drawled, staring thoughtfully up at the deep blue sky, “I think he needs something else to engage his mind. Something slightly more challenging ”

      “What are you up to?” Charity demanded finally. “Don’t bother to deny it, I can see that glint sparkling in your eyes.”

      “Oh, tell me, too.” Faith clapped her hands in glee. “I love it when you have a plan, Hope. It’s always so wonderfully organized, just like you.”

      Hope smiled a peculiarly smug grin as her eyes moved from one to the other.

      “You have to promise not to say a word,” she said seriously. “Not a whisper to anyone. If this gets around, he’ll never forgive me.”

      “Who?” Charity demanded irritably.

      “Jeremy,” Hope told them proudly. “I’ve decided to make Jeremy my Christmas project. I’m going to find him a wife so he’ll be too busy to bother Faith anymore.”

      Her two friends sat in their lawn chairs, mouths gaping as they absorbed her news. The birds happily chirped around them as a neighbor’s lawn mower hummed industriously.

      “You mean,” Charity asked, “you’re going to throw him and Gillian together? I don’t think—”

      “Of course not,” Hope said, cutting her off. “Gillian is a free spirit. She needs a man who can understand that, and not try to fence her in with a lot of silly restrictions. Besides, Jeremy’s too old for her.”

      “Oh, piffle. Jeremy’s not that much older than your Gillian,” Faith chided, her eyes sparkling at the thought of her great-nephew married.

      “In his approach to life in this century, Jeremy rivals Moses,” Hope muttered dourly. “I was actually thinking of Letitia Chamberlain. She’s a quiet little thing, and she’d do whatever he told her to.”

      “Well,” Charity murmured, staring off into space, “I suppose if you’ve made up your mind, there’s no point in me trying to change it. I do think it’s too bad not to continue with your knitting though, Hope. Those mittens you donate are really needed in the cities. Why, I heard the mayor of Minot on the news the other day. He said they would need at least a hundred pairs in the schools this year!”

      Hope smiled. “Oh, I’ll still be knitting,” she murmured. “And while I am, I can think of new plans for Jeremy.” Charity watched the glint of mischievousness sparkle in her friend’s eyes and wondered what she was up to.

      “It isn’t fair,” Faith wailed sadly. “You have both chosen your projects, and I don’t have one. What shall I choose? I’m not very good at matchmaking but maybe I could try for Gillian.”

      Charity met Hope’s wary glance with her own.

      “No!” They both said it together.

      “What we mean, dear, is that you’re such a good cook and you always do those wonderful dainty trays for the Christmas hampers. Maybe you should do that again.” Charity nodded as Hope’s soft voice soothed their friend.

      “Of course I will continue with that,” Faith told them firmly. “But I want a special project. Something really different.” Her green eyes narrowed as she pondered the subject. Finally she stood to her feet.

      “After all, I do have a bit of time yet. It is only the first week of October, isn’t it? I shall think and pray about it. Perhaps the good Lord has some special work that I can do.” Faith ambled out the front door, completely forgetting her purse and sweater as she strolled along, mumbling to herself.

      “We should have thought of something for her to do, before we announced our ideas,” Charity muttered, gathering up their teacups and setting them on the tray. “It’s not fair to leave her like that.”

      Hope carried the dishes back into the house and set about washing them carefully in the old-fashioned sink. She had most of the work done before Charity hobbled in.

      “Faith is a strong, competent woman,” she stated firmly. “She’s not senile, just a little confused sometimes. I think it will be good for her to think about a Christmas project rather than Jeremy’s odious meddling, for a while.” Hope shook her head with disgust. “That man would drive a saint up the wall.”

      “He’s certainly been hovering around Faith since he came,” Charity agreed. “I heard him telling her not to use the oven unless he was there. You know how she loves to bake. I can’t imagine that she’ll listen to him.”

      “It might be best if she did,” Hope muttered finally. “I hate to say it, but her memory is getting worse. I’ve been checking up on her myself lately, just to make sure she gets home safely.”

      “Funny,” Charity mused absently, rubbing liniment on the aching joints of her hands. “Arthur mentioned something about seeing her home the other night. Said he found her in the park, gathering leaves for her collection. In the dark.”

      “Well, I think we’ll just have to be especially careful to keep track of her with Jeremy around,” Hope said with a frown. “I don’t like the way he keeps telling her not to do this or that, fussing if she goes for a long walk. She’s not in prison, for heaven’s sake.”

      “Yes, СКАЧАТЬ