He Answered My Prayers – Part 3

And now we return to our regularly scheduled program.

Good morning!

It's dark this morning. Cloudy and 39º.  We had rain last night and wind. And a bit of hail. Fall is certainly here. It's only supposed to reach the 40s today.

All 7 of my nieces and nephews are here. But right now they are all still sleeping. Maybe because it's darker and chilly. Even Buster who seems to wake up at 6:45 is still sleeping. Yay! Two year olds need sleep. ;)

This week has been busy. The 2nd Christmas Play has been approved, and I gave parts out to almost all the kids. This is going to be an interesting play since, to quote one of the cast, "There's not going to be any grownups!" ;) Nope, just 5th & 6th graders.

I also got a short Christmas story up for pre-order and worked on covers for the 3 Christmas Collection stories. I can't wait to get my proof copies of these books. :) But, as far as writing anything new, that hasn't happened. I keep wanting to, but haven't done it.

Here's the next part of your story. I hope you enjoy it.

He Answered My Prayers

Part 3

    Lacey shrugged and carried her dishes into the kitchen. As she began putting the leftover food away, Charlie cleared off the table and filled the sink with hot, soapy water. With someone helping, Lacey found that the dishes didn’t take long at all.
    “Now what?” And Charlie dried his hands on a towel and looked about the neat kitchen.
    “Go visit with Garret. I’ll get your bed made up.” She wouldn’t listen to his protests or offers to help but waved him away to sit before the fire as she mounted the narrow stairs. It was seldom that she had cause to go upstairs, for her bedroom and Garrett’s were on the ground level.

*

    It was some time before she returned to the living room to find Garrett and Charlie deep in a game of chess. “Your room’s in shape now.” It was the only comment she made about it. “Are you two ready for pie?”
    “Yes.” The answer was simultaneous from both men.
    “Well, which do you want? There is pumpkin and Dutch apple.”
    Charlie looked up quickly. “Dutch apple? Aunt Lacey, you are a genius! That’s my favorite kind!”
    “Pumpkin for me, Lace,” was Garrett’s answer.
    The slices of pie were large, and Miss Lacey blinked back tears as she picked up the plates. “I’m a silly, old woman,” she muttered to herself. “If a compliment makes me sentimental, then it’s a good thing I don’t get them but once in a blue moon.” But she wasn’t sure it was just the compliment that had her fighting tears.

*

    Quietness had settled over the house, and the old clock had struck eleven some time before. Lacey had been in bed for several hours, and the house was dark and still. Usually she didn’t have any trouble falling asleep, but that night she tossed and turned. She fluffed her pillow and then flattened it. She pulled the covers close about her and then kicked them off, only to pull them over her again because the room was chilly. Finally she sat up. It was no use trying to sleep; she just couldn’t sleep and she didn’t know why. Well, she guessed it had something to do with the letter from Tammy, but she refused to give that idea more than a passing thought.
    “Maybe Charlie’s coming unsettled me,” she thought, tossing back her blankets and standing up. She shoved her feet into her warm slippers and pulled her bathrobe around her, knotting it firmly about her waist. “If I can’t sleep, I might as well be doing something useful. Humph! I don’t know what’s gotten into me!”
    Leaving her room, she shuffled softly down the hall and into the dining room. The moon had broken through the clouds and sent a beam of light through a crack in the dining room curtains. With a shake of her head, Lacey opened the curtains and gazed for several minutes out into the rain–soaked yard where the moon cast a shimmery glow about everything.
    For some reason the sight caused the older woman to catch her breath and swallow back a lump in her throat. “I’m being ridiculous!” she told herself. “I’m acting like a sentimental fool! I’m becoming as bad as Anne Shirley with all her sentimental twaddle.”
    Turning her back on the enchanting scene outside, Miss Lacey stalked to her kitchen and flipped on the light. Planting her hands on her hips, she stood looking about. “I need to clean out my cabinets, but that would wake the others.” Finally she began pulling items from the cabinets and the pantry shelves before grabbing her apron and tying it quickly about her waist.
    Before long the smell of molasses permeated the kitchen. Sliding the first pan of ginger snaps into the oven, she glanced at the clock. “Goodness gracious!” she muttered. “It’s almost midnight and here I am baking cookies. Humph!”
    More ingredients were pulled from the pantry and fridge, and by the time the last of the ginger snaps had come from the oven to cool on racks, another kind of cookie, batcher’s buttons this time, were waiting to be placed on the sheets and baked.
    “Lacey Redhead, what on earth are you doing?” Garrett’s sleepy voice interrupted her work.
    “What does it look like?” she snapped back. “I’m making cookies.”
    “It’s the middle of the night!”
    Lacey glanced at the clock again before sliding a filled cookie sheet into the oven. “After, actually. It’s morning now. Go back to bed, Garrett.”
    “And leave you up making cookies? Hardly.” And Garrett pulled out a chair and helped himself to a fresh ginger cookie. “Are you all right? You’re not sick, are you?”
    Lacey made no reply except for a short sniff.
    “Making any ranger cookies?”
    “I was going to make them next.”
    Garrett shook his head. “I was just joking, Lace. They can wait.” He yawned widely.
    “Hey,” a new voice interrupted sleepily. “Is this when you two usually get up? I mean, I remember getting up early when I stayed here ten years ago, but–” Charlie’s words were cut off by a gigantic yawn, and he rubbed his hand over his face. “Boy, cookies for breakfast, Aunt Lacey? You really are the best!”
    “Help yourself, Charlie,” Garrett said, motioning to the cookies that were cooling. “And no, we don’t usually get up in the middle of the night. I don’t know if it’s your coming that has set Lacey off into a cookie frenzy at such odd hours, or the rain yesterday, or something else.” He yawned again.
    “Garrett, go back to bed. You have work to do tomorrow.”
    “Can I stay and help, Aunt Lacey?” Charlie’s voice was pleading around the large bite of cookie he had just taken. “I don’t have to work.”
    Lacey shrugged. “There’s another apron behind the door of the closet.”
    Garrett gave a half chuckle. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it. Two people up in the middle of the night baking cookies. I’m going back to bed.”
    “Goodnight again, Uncle Garrett. Or should I say good morning?” Charlie’s voice had lost all sign of tiredness. “What can I do?”

Have you had really cold weather yet?

Have you ever gotten up in the middle of the night to bake?

Do you get up an do something if you can't sleep?