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.

“This is fun.”

Phoebe looked up from the table, straight into the eyes of Deena. Mac wasn’t with her. “We do a different project every year, and we always have a good time bringing it together.”

“And you do it for the sole reason of helping others?”

That was an odd question. “Yes.”

“Hmm.”

“Thank you for bringing the tablets.” Phoebe fought for the words, but her soul felt better for them.

“My pleasure.” Deena dropped a lotion in the bag. “Can I be honest?”

“Sure.”

“It started out as a publicity stunt, but I’m not upset it didn’t work out that way.” She stopped working and looked up. “I’ve never experienced being a part of an event like this, and it feels good to help. It takes off the pressure.”

“We’re happy to have you helping us.” What else could she say? She felt sorry for Deena—she couldn’t imagine living in a world where every kind gesture had an ulterior motive. Strangely, that epiphany softened her attitude toward Deena. “We’re delivering them tomorrow night, and the youth are performing a live nativity for the residents. Maybe you could join us?”

“I have to be on-set.” Genuine disappointment filled her voice. “There is a small chance we’ll wrap up earlier in the day. If we do, I’ll be there.”

“Are you staying for dinner tonight?”

“I can’t. I had to sweet talk Stanley into rearranging tonight’s schedule, so I could be here for this.” She reached into her pocket and glanced at her phone. “That’s him now. Could you be a dear and finish this one for me?”

And…the Deena she’d come to know was back.

“Sure thing,” she muttered, taking the bag Deena left on the table.

Once all one hundred bags were assembled, the men rearranged the tables back in their normal rows. Phoebe went into the kitchen and helped Marley set up the pasta bar they’d planned for dinner.

She set pots of al dente spaghetti noodles, fettuccine, rotini, and tortellini on trivets, then a line of bowls with marinara, alfredo, arrabbiata, and clarified butter on the counter. Marley prepared the mix-ins, bringing over bowls of meatballs, grilled chicken, Italian sausage, pepperoni, parmesan cheese, and grilled vegetables. A gigantic bowl of garden salad sat at the end with an assortment of salad dressings and a tray of garlic bread.

Once they finished laying out the spread, she took a step back to observe the spread. “We have enough for an army.”

Marley grinned. “The Lord’s Army.”

Bursting into laughter, Phoebe covered her mouth and then snorted. “That’s one of the oldest church jokes in the book.”

“Still made you laugh.” Marley grabbed a stack of disposable bowls and plates and set them at the beginning of the food line.

Phoebe shook her head and then called the group over. Kyle blessed their food, and the hungry crew dug in. She saw Mac come through the food line alone. Not by himself—he talked to friends—but without Deena. Even though Deena had told her she couldn’t stay for dinner due to legitimate plans, Phoebe couldn’t resist the satisfaction of seeing Mac without the star at his side.