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So, is tonight when you turn into an angel?" Beth asked as she held up her friend Glory's flowing white costume. Beth propped the sanctuary door open with one hip as she ran her fingers over the diaphanous fabric. "Heavenly," she commented. "Maybe we should post a sign out front: Live Angels—One Night Only."
"Works for me," Glory replied as she breezed through the doorway. With a brief flashback to Christmases past, she added over her shoulder, "Anything's better than Girls! Girls! Girls!"
Their laughter echoed among the empty pews of Chesapeake Community Church as Glory made her way down the aisle toward the dressing room behind the choir loft. Having Beth for a friend was like celebrating Christmas every day of the year. Beth was funny and honest, and the girl flat knew how to listen. Over the last year, Glory had talked—a lot—and Beth had listened, nodded, and offered wise counsel. Now that the worst was over, they'd become simply friends. Glory took turns listening and, when she felt brave, threw in a word of encouragement.
Glorianna Wilson, giving spiritual advice? Talk about your basic miracle.
She walked into the chilly dressing room and hung her costume on a rack crammed with old choir robes. "The ghosts of Christmas past," she murmured, glancing at a pile of dusty shepherds' tunics and faded crowns from long-forgotten magi.
If she thought about all the Christmases she'd missed over the last few years, her costume would be soaked with tears. "You're here this Christmas," she reminded herself aloud, staring at the bright mirror edged with lights. "Today is what matters, Glory."
She slipped out of her sweater and jeans, hands shivering as she unwrapped the plastic around her angelic costume. White tights and a leotard came first. Nice, heavyweight material, she was relieved to discover. The more coverage, the better. The bold design of a lily on her thigh, compliments of Tattoo Charlie's, disappeared without a trace beneath the stretchy tights.
Rather than a stiff pair of wings, the costume had layers of white chiffon that floated around her when she moved. She eased the tea-length dress over her head and let it fall into place on her shoulders. Perfect. Lifting her hands above her head, she spun and swayed to an imaginary tune, thrilled to see how gracefully the gauzy material followed her every move.
Glorianna Wilson, an angel? Yet another miracle.
She was digging around in her purse for a brush when a knock at the door startled her.
"It's me, Glory." It was Beth's voice. "Are you dressed? Pastor Miller is looking for you. Says he needs to see you in his office."
Glory peeked around the edge of the door, her heart in her throat. "Is there a … problem?"
Beth shrugged. "He didn't say, but I wouldn't worry about it. I'll tell him you'll be there in a couple minutes." She winked. "You look great, hon."
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