All That Glitters Page 8

  The encounter perplexed Phoebe. All her experience with Deena showed a brash, condescending snob. The Deena she’d had contact with wouldn’t have taken the time to make a young girl feel special and knowledgeable. It wasn’t done for the press because there was no one present to take pictures and spread the news of her good deed.

  Who was the true Deena? Was it possible that she’d rushed to judgment, and Mac had seen the good in her? The possibility tightened her stomach muscles until her appetite disappeared. If that were true, it meant that there existed a strong possibility for true romance between Mac and Deena—an option she didn’t want to think about.

  Chapter Ten

  Mac stretched his arms and stared out the window. Cotton soft clouds dotted a warm blue sky. Frost covered the grass but would melt and dry within the hour as the temperature crept into the fifties by afternoon. The cold snap that had covered the region had moved on, leaving behind seasonally warm temperatures.

  He couldn’t have ordered a more beautiful Thanksgiving Day.

  Mom had gotten up early to start the dinner preparations. He could smell the turkey in the oven and the savory herbs and butter she’d add to bread cubes to make the dressing. His stomach growled. He had to stop thinking about food, or he’d cave and have a snack. It wasn’t worth risking his appetite.

  Tamera’s car came down the driveway. He ran downstairs to greet his sister, brother-in-law, and niece outside.

  John carried Mercy, and Mac reached for her.

  She refused to come to him and buried her head on her dad’s shoulder.

  “I feel loved,” Mac joked.

  “That’s me every night when John comes home from work, and Mercy only wants him.” Tamera winked at her husband.

  “She’ll grow to love her cool Uncle Mac.” Tamera’s words and wink registered, and he backpedaled. “Wait… did you say come home from work?”

  John beamed. “I started at the Dolcum factory on the fifteenth. We waited until today to share the news since it is Thanksgiving.”

  “That’s awesome.” Mac slapped his brother-in-law’s back. “Congratulations! I’ve been praying for you.”

  “Thank you. Those prayers have been felt.”

  Tamera pushed between them like the pesky little sister she could be. “Spill it. Is Deena coming to dinner?”

  He suppressed a groan. His family’s inquisitiveness knew no bounds. “She’s supposed to.”

  “I can’t believe my big brother is dating the Deena Frasier.” She wiggled her brows. “Why couldn’t that have happened in high school, so I could have been popular by proxy?”

  “If I recall correctly, you were prom queen. I don’t think you could have been more popular than that.”

  “That’s because I was nice to everyone.” She wore a mischievous grin. “It wasn’t the superficial popular that came with your brother dating a celebrity.”

  John wrapped an arm around Tamera. “You’ll always be my queen.”

  “Gag me.” Mac rolled his eyes.

  Tamera’s smile sobered. “Is it serious between you and Deena?”

  “No.” At least he could answer that question honestly.

  “That’s not what the tabloids say.” John leaned against the porch rail.

  “Don’t believe them.” The paparazzi had become the bane of his existence. He’d caught them waiting outside the school, church, anywhere he went. He didn’t want to jinx it, but he was surprised they hadn’t shown up at the house yet.

  “I don’t know Deena well, and if you like her, then I’m happy for you.” Tamera paused, opened and then closed her mouth a moment before saying more. “The thing is, I can’t stop thinking that you and Phoebe should be together.”

  “It’s not going to happen, Tam. Sorry to disappoint.” Who was more disappointed? Him or his family?

  “Either way, if you’re happy and with the person God wants you to be with, then I’m happy, too.”

  Why’d she have to go and throw that clause in there? How could Deena be “the one” if she didn’t have a relationship with Christ? He tried not to think about it, but his conscience wouldn’t let it rest. For now, he justified the relationship by claiming it wasn’t serious—that much was true.

  He enjoyed spending time with Deena, but he didn’t feel a spark. He hadn’t told anyone this—it was too personal—but they hadn’t kissed. Deena often insinuated that they should, but something held him back. Shouldn’t he want to kiss her? She was gorgeous, elegant, and every man’s dream, yet he couldn’t muster any physical attraction to her.

  Eventually, he’d have to examine what that meant. Not today, though. Today, he planned to enjoy the day being with his family.

  And Deena.

  “Let’s go in,” he suggested, ending the conversation about his love life.

  “How’s Dad today?” Tamera clasped her hands in front of her, hope in her eyes.

  “Great.” As he shared the good news, a weight lifted from Mac’s chest. “You’ll notice a vast improvement from last week. His speech is almost perfect, and he hasn’t been using the walker or cane except in the evening.”

  “That’s incredible.” Audible relief whooshed from her. “Has he done anything differently?”

  Mac shook his head. “Not physically, but his attitude has changed. Mom and I think getting out, returning to church, and seeing friends has renewed his faith and determination.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  They entered the house, went through the foyer and into the den.

  Tamera walked over to their dad and gave him a big hug. “Happy Thanksgiving, Daddy.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Tam,” Dad said without a struggle.

  Standing back, Mac watched Tamera glow. Seeing their dad’s rapid recovery was good for her. She and John had been through a lot this fall, and Mac enjoyed seeing them on the other side of the struggle.

  After chatting with their dad for five minutes, Tamera left to find their mom.

  Mac sat on the sofa, and John sat on the other end bouncing Mercy on his lap.

  A large balloon in the shape of a cartoon character floated across the television screen, stealing Mac’s attention. “You’re watching the parade?”

  Dad smiled. The right corner of his mouth didn’t go as high as it once did, but it was a full smile nonetheless. “The game doesn’t start for another hour.”

  “Ahh.” He settled in with no intention of moving until Deena showed up.

  He wouldn’t dream of stepping foot in the kitchen. Mom would shoo him out with and not allow him the pleasure of sneaking a piece of turkey. In a few hours, he might be able to bribe her into a piece of the crispy, golden skin if he sweet talked her. Or, more likely, if he snuck in while she was out of the room.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket. He slipped it out and read the message from Deena. — Won’t make it today. Caught a flight to L.A. and spending the day with friends. I’ll be back tomorrow. Raincheck?

  He blew out a long breath. Who canceled Thanksgiving plans through a text message? Though her timing and method were rude, he couldn’t blame her. This was a day to spend with friends and family, neither of which Deena had in Jasper Lake.

  She has you.

  True, but she’d only known him for a month. That hardly gave him priority over longtime friends. Other than bruise his ego, he didn’t let it bother him.

  “Bad news, guys. Deena isn’t coming.” He set the phone aside without responding to her text.

  “You don’t sound too upset.” John stared at him through quizzical eyes.

  “I’m not. She had the chance to fly home to L.A. and spend the holiday with friends.” Mac shrugged. “Why should I begrudge her that opportunity?”

  “Because she made a commitment to spend the day with you.” Dad glowered. “Back in my day, we didn’t change plans because a better offer came along.”

  “It’s fine, Dad. It’s not that serious.”

  Dad harrumphed. “It speaks volumes of her cha
racter.”

  He didn’t completely disagree, but he wouldn’t speak poorly of Deena. “Look on the bright side. If Deena isn’t here, the paparazzi won’t be either, and we can enjoy our day in peace.”

  John whooped. “Now that’s something to be thankful for.”

  Mercy giggled.

  The men looked to see what she laughed at—a massive turkey balloon in the parade.

  “Turkey,” John said, emphasizing the syllables. “Can you say tur-key?”

  “Dada.”

  “No, tur-key.”

  “Mama.”

  The game continued, bringing laughter to the room. Mercy never did say turkey, but John’s smile broadened each time his daughter said dada.

  Watching his brother-in-law interact with Mercy made Mac long for a child of his own. He glanced at his dad and reflected on the bond they’d built over the years. They’d had their share of differences, but nothing could come between them.

  Mom wouldn’t need the extra help with Dad soon, and Mac would have the freedom to move out on his own again. He should be rejoicing, but he’d miss this time with his parents. Dad’s stroke brought the realization that his parents wouldn’t live forever. He hated that truth, but it was life. All he could do was cherish them for the time they had together.

  He reached for his phone and sent Deena a response, keeping it simple. I’ll see you when you get back.

  A broken date couldn’t ruin his Thanksgiving. He had too much, right under this roof, to be grateful for.

  Chapter Eleven

  Christmas music blared from the speakers in the fellowship hall. Phoebe sang along, joyful that Christmastime had officially arrived, and no one would fault her for indulging in her favorite carols. Not that it had stopped her before, but now others joined in without hesitation.

  Folding tables lined the perimeter of the hall. Each one contained a grouping of items to fill the blessing bags for the nursing home. Starting with shampoo and ending with brushes, each bag would have sixteen items—if everyone bought the items they’d pledged—plus a handwritten Christmas card wishing the resident a Merry Christmas.

  Multiple tables looked scarce, but they didn’t plan to start assembling the bags for another half hour. Plenty of time for the class members to bring their items. She made a list of all the items, then went table by table and counted the inventory so far. When she finished, Phoebe realized the numbers weren’t far off from what they needed—one hundred of each item. Some tables only looked empty because the items didn’t take up much space.

  At six o’clock, Ana stepped up to the microphone to give instructions. “Grab a bag from table one. The bags on the right are for men, the bags on the left are for women. Please pay attention because some items are gender specific.”

  Darla tugged on Phoebe’s sleeve. “Don’t look now, but Mac just walked in.”

  “I’m assuming you’re trying to tell me not to look because Deena is with him?”

  “Yes, and there’s an entourage with her.”

  Against her better judgment, she glanced at them. She hadn’t made any progress in the jealousy department, except she’d learned to disguise it better. Who were all those people with Deena? She peered closer and saw reporters, news cameras, and men carrying boxes.

  What in the world?

  Ana stumbled on her speech and addressed the new arrivals. “Can we help you?”

  Deena pointed behind her. “I brought a gift for each of the residents.”

  “That’s very generous.” Ana stepped away from the microphone to address the situation personally rather than in front of the crowd.

  Phoebe was close enough to overhear everything.

  “I appreciate your efforts, but I have to ask, what did you bring?” Ana squinted her eyes, her gaze focused on the tiny words on the boxes.

  “Tablets. I called the nursing home beforehand to make sure it was okay.” To Phoebe’s surprise, Deena sounded almost uncertain. “They said that would be great, and there are lots of apps that can help with the cognitive abilities of their residents.”

  Ana’s head tilted in surprise. “That’s very thoughtful.”

  “I know I should have asked first, but I’m used to taking action.”

  “It’s fine. More than fine.” Ana smiled and assured Deena her gifts were generous and thoughtful. “We could never have afforded this as a group. Thank you.”

  “Where should I have the men put them?”

  “Table eighteen. We’ll shift the last table down one.” Ana glanced at the flock of reporters. “What are they doing here?”

  Deena pointed the men carrying the boxes toward the appropriate table. “My publicist thought this would be a good opportunity for my fans to see me in a positive light.”

  Ana squirmed, seemingly on the verge of commenting, but nothing came out.

  Awkward silence filled the room. If their thoughts were anything like Phoebe’s they were uncomfortable with their project receiving any press. The goal wasn’t to receive accolades, but to show love to the residents of the nursing home.

  Elijah stepped forward. Though not a single, he and Trixie showed up to help as church representatives to show their support for the project and the singles class. “I’m afraid we can’t allow any press in here.”

  Confusion masked Deena’s flawless features. “Why not?”

  “Our members have worked hard to make this project a success. We appreciate your extreme generosity, but it wouldn’t be fair to have their work overshadowed.”

  Not the angle Phoebe had expected from Elijah, but she understood he had to address it in a manner that would make sense to Deena. She lived in a world where acts of kindness were marketing tools and self-promotion. It came with the territory of being a celebrity, but that didn’t translate well to all sectors, especially within the church where humility was a virtue.

  “Oh.” Deena’s teeth grazed her bottom lip. “I have a compromise.”

  “What do you suggest?” Elijah glanced at the men and women just outside the double doors.

  “Let them come in and do a story. Otherwise, they’ll wait outside and hound us.” Deena spoke with a firm tone of authority. “But I’ll give them strict instructions my name isn’t to be mentioned.”

  “What purpose would that serve?” Elijah asked warily.

  “It will highlight the needs of the elderly and inspire others to consider those living in nursing homes and assisted living facilities in their own communities.”

  Mac reached for Deena’s hand. “She has a good idea. If a news segment or magazine article on our projects leads others to do the same, it’s a winning situation for all.”

  Elijah seemed to consider the idea carefully. He pulled Trixie and Ana aside to deliberate before giving an answer. Two minutes later he returned. “We’ll agree to that on the condition that our church name is kept quiet. We don’t want to give an illusion of bragging or boasting about our project.”

  “Let me talk to them and spell out the conditions.” Deena and Mac exited the doors, still visible through the glass planes. When they reentered, she gave them a thumbs up.

  Assembly began, with a great deal more excitement than ten minutes ago. Phoebe walked through the line with Darla, half surprised her friend didn’t abandon her for a chance to talk with Deena. She grabbed a red bag with a silver tree imprint from the ladies’ pile and moved to table two and dropped shampoo in the bag.

  Darla followed her closely, carrying a red bag with a reindeer imprint. “Don’t get mad at me, but Deena doesn’t seem the monster you want her to be.”

  She huffed. “I never said she was a monster, only that I don’t trust her.”

  “Still, she didn’t have to get anything for the blessings bags, let alone something extravagant.”

  “It’s a publicity stunt.” Phoebe rolled her eyes and stuffed a lotion in the bag. “Do you really think she would have done that if she hadn’t gotten credit for it in the media?”

  “I don’t know.
” Darla’s voice squeaked. “She was a good sport about the reporters and didn’t raise a fuss like a prima donna would have. Her compromise actually showed a great deal of maturity and compassion.”

  Phoebe couldn’t deny that although it killed her inside to admit it. “I do hope the story inspire others. Our nursing home has a great staff, but I’ll never forget one where we caroled when I was a child. The staff was rude to the patients, the residents had to eat off filthy plates, and I overheard the activities director tell Pastor Gray we were the first group of visitors that year.”

  “My great aunt lives at an assisted living center in Saratoga Springs. The facility is beautiful, and the staff is caring and attentive, but many of the residents never get visitors. It breaks my heart.” Darla frowned. “Whenever I go visit Aunt Nancy, I take extra flowers and knick-knacks to hand out.”

  “I didn’t know you did that.” Phoebe looked at her friend with newfound respect.

  Darla deflected the praise. “You can come with me next time. I plan to go before Christmas.”

  “I’d love to. Tell me the date, and I’ll be there.”

  “Sure. I’ll let you know by Sunday.” Darla fit a crossword puzzle book into the bag. “It will be a tight fit to get one of each item in this bag. I’m scared I’ll bust a corner seam.”

  “I know, but that’s a good problem to have.” Phoebe carefully added a pair of socks and moved to the last table of items. “We have an incredible group. I’m proud to be part of a giving church.”

  “I love how our ministries work together. The senior adults gave fifty dollars from their fund to help us buy supplies.”

  A pit formed in her stomach when she crammed the thin tablet box into the bag. Why couldn’t she accept that Deena had strong, positive qualities? It wasn’t like her to focus on the negative in anyone.

  She carried the stuffed bag to the end table where Marley and Celeste would add finishing touches of ribbon tied around the handles. After she dropped off her first bag, Phoebe returned to the starting point and grabbed a bag from the men’s pile this time.

  In the space between the drop-off table and the bag table, she’d gotten separated from Darla. She looked back and saw Darla in conversation with Celeste. Phoebe started her second round on her own, knowing that Celeste and Darla could talk for hours.