He Answered My Prayers – Part 1

Good morning!

Is fall coming your way? There was all kinds of talk this year about an early fall, but that sure hasn't happened here! I'm SO ready for autumn! I'm tired of 100º temperatures when we step outside. Sure we've had some really lovely fall-like days, but only a few and they didn't last.

This week has been a bit different in that I've hardly written at all! I wrote on Monday, but haven't written since then. Tuesday I was stressed about a situation and decided I'd just work on something else besides writing. Wednesday I had other projects going on and then talked to my Best Friend on the phone for an hour. Last night my grandpa and I went to a concert to hear the Miro Quartet. It was lovely! And this evening we'll have the kiddos over. (Except my oldest niece who is going out with her parents for her 13th birthday.) But maybe I can get something written? I had an idea for another short story (that's not a Christmas story!) at the concert.

Preparation for the Five Fall Favorites is almost complete. We are all getting very eager for it! :D

But now here is your story.

He Answered My Prayers

Part 1

    Cold. Damp. Dreary.
    Those were the words to describe the weather. Had the sun been shining, the leaves would have glowed with the glorious colors of their autumnal dress and the cold would have been tempered by the light. But the sun wasn’t shining. Instead the leaves dripped moisture. If it had even been raining steadily, it would have been more bearable. However, the rain was just a drizzle. A miserable, depressing, finicky drizzle.
    Miss Lacey Redhead stood at the window and frowned. She was not redheaded; in fact, no one had ever considered her hair the least bit red. And now her once dark hair was liberally streaked with gray.
    “What an awful day!” she muttered, pulling her sweater tighter about her thin shoulders. “If Garret takes cold from being foolish enough to drive into town in this dampness, it’s not my fault. I told him not to go.”
    A movement near the far property line caught her attention, and she peered out. “Well, gracious me! Who would have thought that anyone would be silly enough to go hiking on a day like today. If it were up to me, I would have shut down the trails of the state park today. If people won’t be sensible and stay home in such weather, they should have someone making them do it.”
    To be honest, Miss Lacey wasn’t usually in such a grumpy and fault-finding mood, and one of her favorite pastimes was watching the hikers pass by on the trail that wound along the edge of their property line. Most of the time she kept a count of how many people went by and informed her brother at the supper table of the number of people who had been out.
    Garrett had always nodded and then remarked, “We should take a walk on that trail one of these days and see what it’s like and where it goes.”
    But as yet they had never done it.
    Now Miss Lacey left her pen and paper alone and turned from the view outdoors with a sniff. It had been cloudy for three days, and today had finally brought the rain, adding to the gloom Miss Lacey had been feeling ever since that letter had arrived the day before.
    It was a letter from an old school friend. A friendly, cheery letter, but there were a few lines in it that had bothered Miss Lacey and had put a frown on her face.
    “Lacey, do you remember all our old discussions,” the letter read, “about whether our parents were right about the Bible and religion? I wanted to tell you, they were. It is true, all of it. How do I know? I put it to the test in my life, and Jesus Christ has forgiven my sins. Oh, Lace, if you haven’t proved it yet, please do!”
    “Humph,” Miss Lacey had muttered when she first read the letter. “Tammy always–” She hadn’t finished her sentence but had put the letter in a drawer and tried to forget about it.
    Now, almost stomping from the dining room with its large windows, she entered the kitchen and jerked her apron off its nail. “Humph!” she muttered about nothing in particular or everything in general. “I suppose Garrett will want soup for supper after being out in this weather.” As she tied her apron firmly around her slim waist, she considered. “I suppose I’ll make chicken noodle since I made noodles yesterday. I might as well make rolls to go with it too. Then, if there’s time, I could make a pumpkin pie.”
    Soon Miss Lacey was busy. She had all afternoon to get supper made, but one of the secrets of her well loved soups was the length of time they simmered. “You can’t make a real good soup in a short time,” she always declared. “It takes time to get the flavors all combined.”
    Once the soup, except for the noodles which she would add later, was simmering on the stove, she prepared the dough for her rolls and then started on the pie as the dough rose. For some reason she decided to make two pies, one pumpkin and the other Dutch apple.
    “I don’t know why I did such a silly thing,” she muttered as she slid both pies into the oven. “Like as not one will go bad before Garrett and I can eat them both.” She sighed and looked out the window. The rain still fell in a maddening drizzle, and the gold and russet, brown, and yellow leaves hung like wilted flowers, Miss Lacey thought.
    “Everything is gloomy. If the radio was working, I might get some music–if there wasn’t too much static.” She gave a weary sigh and pushed her hair back from her face. “Not even a dog or cat to keep me company when Garrett’s away. Nothing but my cooking.” She thought about the letter for a brief moment but shoved the thought aside.

*

    The rattle of the old truck alerted Miss Lacey that her brother was home. She added the homemade noodles to the soup and checked her rolls. On the kitchen table the two pies sat cooling. As she opened the cabinet and took out two bowls, she heard the front door open.
    “Lace?” Garrett called, his voice echoing in the quiet house. “Come look what I found in town!”
    With a sigh and a shake of her head, Miss Lacey set the bowls down, checked her soup, and then left her kitchen. There was no telling what her brother had picked up in town. Whatever it was would most likely be a useless item they would never need.
    The dining room, with its large windows, opened up into the living room. A resigned expression covered Lacey’s face as she crossed the dining room. “What did you bring home this time?”
    Garrett stepped to the side and grinned.
    “Hi, Aunt Lacey, remember me?” And a young man hurried forward to wrap the thin woman in a warm hug and kiss the pale cheeks.
    Startled, Miss Lacey gave a faint gasp and looked up into the laughing brown eyes above her. “Charles Simpson?”

Are you ready for fall?

Would you like to live near a state park?

 Do you think you'd recognize someone you hadn't seen in years?