Christmas Wishes by Patricia Kiyono Read Free Book Online Page B

by noon. And you’re welcome to stay, if you like.” A statuesque blonde with bright blue eyes and an equally bright smile came up to him, holding out her hand. “I’m Patrice Feenstra, Angie’s Sunday School teacher. You must be her dad, the photographer.”
    Mitch took the proffered hand. “Mitch Carson. I’ll pass for now, if it’s okay. I need to set up my equipment for a couple of appointments tomorrow. But I’ll be right here no later than noon.”
    He turned to find his way to the exit when he spied her again. This time she was talking to another tall blond guy. There certainly was no shortage of men fitting that description in th e predominantly Dutch community. He wondered who the guy was. They seemed to know each other pretty well. The man reached for his wallet and pulled out a business card, which Sophie took with a smile. Mitch felt his stomach clench. Why was he giving her his phone number? Would she call him?
    He shook his head. It was no business of his whether she called him or not. He really needed to get his head examined.
     
    ~ ~~~
     
    Sophie took Nolan DeSmit’s business card and put it in her purse before going into the choir room. She’d always liked Nolan. He’d been a few years ahead of her in high school, and he’d been a star athlete as well as a homecoming court member. But he’d always been kind, and if he was willing to let her call him, she probably would.
    Right at the moment she needed to focus her attention on the thirty squirming children in front of her. Sunday morning rehearsals were better for getting things done because the Sunday School teachers were there to help, so the kids weren’t as antsy. Too bad all the kids couldn’t be as sweet as the little girls in the front row. Angie Carson sat among of them, her gap-toothed grin bringing a familiar longing to Sophie’s heart.
    Angie ’s father had come with her to church. Would Mitch come regularly? It had been a real challenge to avoid looking across the aisle at him. As Grandma Gardner used to say, “He cleans up well.” Mitch was probably the kind of man who looked good no matter what he was wearing. No wonder Patrice was attracted. The flirty blonde had sashayed right up to him and introduced her gorgeous self, the little hussy.
    She couldn ’t blame Patrice, not really. Mitch looked at ease in dress clothes. He’d probably had to attend some fancy events in Chicago. Maybe someday soon she’d be attending functions like that in Hollywood.
    She could see the event in her mind ’s eye. The spotlight would shine on her as she mounted the stairs…
    At the top, a young girl handed her a statuette, and the announcer — Martin Something-or-other — shook her hand. She took her place at the podium and looked out over her adoring fans. Thousands of people — celebrities, most of them, sat facing her, waiting for her immortal words. Cameras overhead pointed at her, and the lights on them told her that millions of people watched her from their television sets. Her gown was a shimmering sheath of jade satin, draped elegantly and skimming her perfectly manicured toes. Her silver sandals sported heels so high she felt tall and confident. She clutched the gleaming statuette to her breast and crooned, “I’d like to thank the Academy—”
    “Miss Sophie, we’re ready. What song would you like to start with?”
    Mabel Groendyke sat at the piano, ready to begin the rehearsal portion. Sophie blinked. Instead of the famous statuette, she held her notebook. Her plain wool skirt and sweater replaced the flowing gown, and sensible flats covered her feet. She was back in Zutphen, Michigan, and she had a pageant to produce. There would be no award ceremonies for quite a while. Sighing, she opened her notebook. “Let’s start at the beginning. I’ve got an idea for some dance moves to add to the opening song…”
     
    ~~~~
     
    So the photographer is going to church. Is he trying to clean up his image, or is he trying to