Danielle Steel - Answered prayers

“The woman said they're Italian, and they're about a hundred years old. She said they'd been blessed. I wanted you to have them for church tonight, Fred,” he said in a soft voice, and there were tears in her eyes. It took her a long time to say anything. “Fred? … Fred? … Are you there?”

“I don't know what to say. They're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Thank you with all my heart. I'm going to use them tonight. I'll say a rosary for you,” she smiled. There was a wonderful old-fashioned quality to her, in spite of the way she looked. She had solid values, and a passion for her family, a deep respect for her church. She had grown up to be even better than he ever thought she would. “I'll light a candle for you too. And for Jack.”

“Maybe I'll light one for you.”

“Are you going to church?” She sounded surprised. She didn't think he did.

“I thought I might. I've got nothing else to do. We're having dinner with a few friends in a little while, and Pam's father is here. But by eleven o'clock, we'll be all through. I thought it would be nice to go.” He was thinking of going to St. Dominic's, a beautiful old Gothic church, with a shrine to Saint Jude, which he knew was her favorite saint. He had asked the woman in the religious store about where to go, when he bought the rosary for Faith. “There's a church nearby with a shrine to Saint Jude. If I go, I'll light a candle for you there.”

“I can't believe you sent me these,” she said, looking at the rosary again. It had a wonderful smooth feel in her hand, and all the settings were yellow gold. There was a little satin pouch to put it in, to protect it in her purse. She had never seen one as beautiful in her life. “I guess my old wooden ones can be retired,” she said. It was a gift that meant the world to her.

They talked for a few minutes. All he'd been able to do was leave a message for the boys. There was no direct line to the game preserve where they lived. And they obviously hadn't been able to get a line at the post office, because they hadn't called home. It made the holiday even harder for him, not to mention the tension that existed between him and Pam. He felt like a stranger in his own house these days. As always, she had invited people to dinner whom he didn't know well, and her father had a way of monopolizing the conversation and making it all about him.

“I'm glad you're not working tonight,” Faith said, holding the rosary beads in her hand. It made her feel closer to him.

“I figured I'd better stick around and make some points, before I start an all-out war.” There was no purpose in doing that, and Faith agreed. And she knew that the next day they were having a huge dinner, in black tie again. “I think Pam must have been married to a concert musician in another life, a conductor maybe, she always wants everyone in black tie, if not white. It's not exactly my cup of tea.” He was happiest in old cords and jeans with turtleneck sweaters and hiking boots, although he looked handsome in a suit too, as she'd seen in New York. “I'll think about you tonight when you're at church.”

“I'll have your beautiful rosary in my hand the whole time, and I'll be thinking of you.” There was a warm bond between them that scarcely needed words.

She glanced at her watch a few minutes later, and told him she had to leave for church, or she wouldn't get a seat. The midnight mass was popular, and the church was usually filled. And she knew Brad had to join his family and guests for dinner anyway.

“Thank you again for the beautiful gift. It's going to be my very best one.”

“Merry Christmas, Fred … I'm glad you like it… thank you for everything you've given me in the past two months. You've been the best gift of all.”

“You too,” she said softly, and a moment later, they hung up. She went to say good-bye to Alex, but he was asleep in a chair, with a book. And a few minutes later, she walked out the front door, wearing her big red coat, and hailed a cab.

And in San Francisco, Brad made an effort to talk to everyone in the room. He was wearing a blazer and slacks, as was his father-in-law. Christmas Eve was always informal at their house, although all the men wore ties. And Pam was wearing red silk pajamas, and high-heeled gold sandals. She looked festive and beautiful and statuesque. She was a handsome woman, but every time Brad looked at her he saw who she had become. She was tougher and harder and stronger than he would ever have dreamed. He had bought her a narrow gold and diamond necklace with a matching bracelet and ring, and he knew it was the kind of thing she would wear a lot. But he was far more excited about the rosary beads he had sent Faith. They had more meaning to him. And to her.

They were seated at the table in the dining room by the time the mass started in New York. They were having a traditional English meal, with roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, and plum pudding and hard sauce for dessert. But he was distracted as they started eating, and his father-in-law toasted everyone with Napa Valley wine. All he could think of was Faith on her knees in church, as she had been at St. Patrick's when she'd gone with him.

“You seem a little out of it tonight,” Pam said when they finally got up. “Are you okay?”

“Just thinking about a case,” he said, looking vague, and she met his eyes.

“Or your friend in New York?” She knew him better than he thought. “Did you send her an e-mail tonight?” she queried. She looked like a huntress going after her prey, and he shook his head. He hadn't e-mailed her, he had called her instead.

“Don't make more of that than it is, Pam. It is what it is. She's an old friend.”

“I know you better than that. You're a hopeless romantic, Brad. That's just the sort of thing you'd fall head over heels into, especially if it's a hopeless case.”

“Don't be silly.” He tried to brush her off, but what she said sounded right. He had been a hopeless romantic years before, when he met Pam. But she had stamped it out of him long since, or so he thought. He didn't believe what she was saying about his feelings for Faith. He was smarter than that. And Pam was just being territorial and defending her turf. She wanted to make it clear that she still owned him, whether she wanted him or not, or he her.

Their guests all left around eleven o'clock, and Pam's father had a car and driver pick him up. He didn't like to drive at night anymore. And as Pam and Brad walked upstairs, Brad looked at his watch.

“Do you have a hot date?” she teased. She was on his case a lot these days, although he had noticed her flirting with several men that night. She didn't hesitate to do that in front of him, or even kiss them on the mouth. She did whatever she liked, no matter what she said to him about Faith.

“Actually,” he said casually, “I was thinking of going to church.”

“Oh my God. You don't have a mistress. You've lost your mind. Why on earth would you do that?”

“I think it's a nice thing,” he said calmly, trying not to be annoyed by what she said.

“If you get religious on me, Brad, I want a divorce. Another woman, I can handle. A religious freak, I can't. That would really be too much.” He had to smile to himself, wondering what she would think if she knew he had sent rosary beads to Faith. That was about as religious as it got, but he had known how meaningful it would be to her, and was thrilled it had been.

“It's a nice tradition, and I miss the boys,” he said honestly. It had been a lonely holiday for him. They were the only allies he normally had in his own house.

The dinner with her father and friends had been painful for him, but he had been a good sport. He always was.

“I miss them too, but I'm not running to church. There must be other ways to deal with it,” she said, as she kicked off her shoes, and dropped her earrings on her dressing table.