Page 21 of A Whim and a Prayer

Charity huffed out another gust of air. “Oh, nothing specific, I guess, but my sixth sense must be working overtime because suddenly I can’t help but have this sense of foreboding.”

Her mother gently patted her hand. “Which you’ve had many a time before, Charity, and nothing came of it. Like the time you worried Henry was going to be one of the 51% of pilots that never came home from the war?”

“Well, he was shot down, Mother, don’t forget, and almost died.”

“But he didn’t,” Faith emphasized with a pointed dip of her head, “did he?”

“No, but that was too close for comfort, and now I have the same ominous feeling over Winnie, and I can’t seem to shake it.”

Katie cocked her head in thought. “Could be menopause scrambling your sixth sense like it’s done with your hormones, sis.”

“Maybe.” Charity warded off a chill. “And I’m sure that is a factor, but somehow, it seems more than that.” She fanned herself with the stupid trousers. “Plus, I can’t seem to communicate with her, you know? Nor does she want to because I swear she goes out of her way to avoid me.”

Lizzie took a sip of her lemonade before reaching for another item out of her mother’s mending basket. “Do you remember when you first noticed this ‘sense of foreboding’?”

“At birth,” Katie said with a grin.

Searing Katie with a mock scowl, Charity scrunched her face as she considered Lizzie’s question, and instantly her mouth tamped down. “Well, as you know, I’ve always worried about Winnie because like I told Mitch, she seems so much like I used to be—immature, reckless, and yearning for love. But I noticed it’s accelerated lately after she won the female lead in the BCAS fundraiser show.” She wrinkled her nose, a hint of irritation invading her words. “Which, of course, is being directed by her old English and drama teacher, Mrs. Cullen.”

“You don’t like Mrs. Cullen?” Two tiny wedges appeared above Lizzie’s nose. “Molly says she’s the most popular teacher at Cathedral High and that everyone loves her, including Molly.”

“I know, and I loved her too …”—Charity chewed on the edge of her lip, almost embarrassed to admit her feelings—“in the beginning.”

Katie’s mouth fell open. “For pity’s sake, Charity, what did the woman do to turn you against her anyway?” She leaned to grab a snickerdoodle from the tray in the middle of the table. “My brood absolutely loves her. Even Killian and Desmond can’t wait for her summer drama club, and that’s saying something for them, as you know.”

“And for Mrs. Cullen, with those two.” Faith grinned with everyone else around the table, Katie and Luke’s rowdy nine-year-old twins a running joke in the O’Connor clan, lovingly referred to as “Kill and Destroy.”

Ignoring the slight as usual, Katie hurried on without missing a beat, “And Kit, Addie, and Ellie all have her for English at Cathedral and cannot say enough good things about her.”

“Abby, too, when she had her.” Faith leaned forward to study the snickerdoodles thoroughly, always partial to the lighter ones.

“Yes, I know,” Charity said, tone suddenly terse, “and therein lies the problem.”—her lower lip jutted out—“I guess I’m jealous.”

“Jealous?” Marcy’s brows shot high. “Whatever for, sweetheart?”

“Because Winnie likes her better than me.” Abandoning her diet with a groan, Charity wrenched the entire plate of snickerdoodles to her side of the table before Faith could even take one, immediately swiping two from the plate. “God help me—I sound like I’m still in high school.”

“And act like it too,” Faith said with a chuckle, bending across the table to grab a cookie of her own. “Because Winnie loves you, Charity—you know that.”

Charity nodded as if her head weighed three times its size. “Yes, I know she loves me, but she likes Mrs. Cullen way more than me, and to be honest, I don’t know how to fix that.”

Marcy hooked an arm around her daughter’s shoulders, her voice tender. “She’s a teenager, darling, and distance between mothers and daughters at that age is not uncommon. Goodness, Gabe once butted heads with your father and avoided him like the plague too, but look at them today—thick as thieves.” She gave her a hug. “You’ll see, Winnie will be your best friend someday.”

“I can only hope and pray”—Charity’s mouth crooked as she turned to pin Katie with a menacing look. “And, yes, Katie Rose, on my knees.”

Faith laid her sewing down with a clear of her throat. “Well, I say we pray about it right now, shall we?”

“Please,” Charity said with a sag of her shoulders, hand to her head.

Everyone bowed their heads. “Lord God, Your Word says, ‘as much as possible, live in peace with all people’ and that ‘all things are possible’ with You, so that tells us that not only do You want peace between Charity and Winnie, but that it’s completely possible as well, so we ask for that now between Charity and Winnie. Give them favor with each other, Lord, and bless them with a close and truly beautiful mother-daughter relationship—”

Charity’s head shot up. “And safety for Winnie too, Faith, because I don’t want her to suffer like I did because of misguided actions.”

Faith smiled. “You heard Charity, Lord—she’s concerned about her daughter, so we pray Psalm 121:7-8 over Winnie right now and really, over all of our children—that you would ‘keep them from all harm, watch over their lives, and watch over their coming and going.’ And like You assure us in Philippians 4, give Charity ‘the peace of God that surpasses all understanding to guard her heart and mind in Christ Jesus.’ Amen.”

Charity took a deep breath and let it go, her heart lightening as the tension and worry slowly siphoned from her soul. “Oh, thank you, Faith—I really needed that.”

“And so did, Winnie, apparently,” Emma said with a tender smile, “or God wouldn’t have put it on your heart so heavily, my friend.”