Friday Evening - December 11
"Have you begun plans for the new home on the island?" Oliver asked.
"On paper," Drew said. He opened the middle drawer of his desk, took out a small binder, and turned it towards the POstables.
"I took a couple of business courses in college," Drew said. "This was my senior project."
"Andrew J. Carlson Home for Children," Oliver said. "Tell us about it."
"Kitchen, dining room, gymnasium, and pool will be on the ground floor. The second floor will have a community room, library, and music room. The cabins are residences for various age groups."
"How many children can this home accommodate?"
"25 - 30."
"An impressive project. Do you anticipate beginning construction soon?"
"As soon as we can raise the funds. We need a large piece of land. Properties on the island are costly. The money from the sale of Grandpa's cottage has been invested. Dad's church donates from time to time. Several of my friends from college contribute from their businesses."
Drew returned the binder to the drawer and stood up. "I have faith. It will happen - in God's time."
Oliver rose and shook Drew's hand. "I wish you all the best."
"Would you like to continue the tour?" Drew asked.
"Another time perhaps. We've kept you from your duties long enough," Oliver said.
"Rita and I need to get back to the pageant rehearsal," Norman said.
Oliver nodded. "We'll see you Monday."
Oliver parked his car in front of Shane's house.
"Stay for a while," Shane said.
"Certainly," Oliver said.
They walked up the steps and went inside.
"Coffee, tea, or a glass of wine?" Shane asked, closing the door and removing her coat.
"Whichever you prefer," Oliver said.
"Go sit down. I'll be there in a few minutes."
Oliver sat down and flexed his shoulders. He hadn't realized how tired he was from the stress of the last week until this moment. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and breathed in the faint scent of Shane's cologne that emanated from the sofa.
"Oliver." He felt Shane touch his arm and sat up.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep," Oliver said.
Shane set the bottle of red wine and glasses on the table, removed her shoes, and sat down next to Oliver.
"It's understandable. This case has been very tough for you."
Oliver poured two glasses of wine. He handed one to Shane.
"Cheers," he said. They touched glasses and drank.
Shane set her glass on the table, tucked her feet up, and laid her head on Oliver's shoulder. He put his arm around her and drew her close, kissing her forehead and cheeks gently before claiming her lips in a long, slow kiss. When Oliver ceased the kiss, Shane sat up and faced him.
"I have a question," Shane said. "How is it that you know about Bainbridge Island? You've lived in Denver all your life."
"Grandmother and Grandfather moved to a cottage there after he retired. My family went there when I was eight. We'd gone to say good-bye to Grandfather. It was to be his last Christmas with us. On Christmas Eve, everyone starting crying. I was so scared I ran from the cottage and down to the beach. A very nice man stood on the shore, decorating a tiny tree that clung to a rock. He saw I was crying, so he let me help him. We used leaves, shells, anything we could find along the shore. I thought he was an angel."
"Was he?"
"I didn't know for sure until many years later. Another Christmas Eve. In a hospital chapel."
Shane reached over and squeezed his hand. "Jordan."
"So many miracles happened that Christmas. Hannah was able to keep her promise to her mommy. The baby was delivered safely and the mother recovered from her illness." Oliver lifted Shane's hand and kissed it. "I helped restore your faith in God, and Christmas, and returned your treasured necklace."
"And this Christmas?"
"We may be instrumental in fulfilling another child's wish."
"What do we need to do?"
"First, I need to speak to my father. Then, I'm taking you on a sentimental journey."
Oliver handed Shane her wine, and then picked up his own. "To miracles," he said, raising his glass.
Shane raised her glass and touched Oliver's. "To miracles," she repeated.