Free Joyfully Yours by Amy Lamont Page A

things that Maddie was more accomplished at than her.  
    “Don’t get me wrong. You caused more than a few of the gray hairs I pay good money to get covered up. But I never worried about you being happy because you always decided what you wanted and went after it with gusto no matter what anyone else thought you should do.”  
    Faith’s jaw dropped. That sounded almost complimentary .  
    “Maddie did what was expected of her. And now she’s twenty-eight, and doing what she thought she was supposed to hasn’t helped her meet the man of her dreams or keep her from feeling trapped in her job.”  
    Faith sat back in her seat. This couldn’t be true. “But she always seems so together. I’m such a mess. From one month to the next I don’t know if I’ll be able to cover my rent or pay my bills. A husband isn’t even on my radar.”  
    Well, at least up until a few days ago. Not that she was ready to share that with her mother. But since meeting Michael, she started having visions of wedding dresses and maternity clothes. Heck, if she were telling the truth, her ovaries stood up and did a mating dance when their hands first touched as he handed her those two dollars in the market the day before Thanksgiving.  
    “That’s the thing. You may feel like your life is a mess, but you’re not afraid of letting things get messy in order to follow your heart. I think Maddie wishes she could be more like you.”  
    “Yeah, right. Cause I’m such a role model.”  
    “Don’t sell yourself short.” Her mother stood and kissed the top of Faith’s head, smoothing down a few of the shaggy locks. “Don’t forget, you do always manage to pay your bills and your rent. And I’ve never seen you not get something you’ve gone after.”  
    Faith shook her head. She must be hallucinating. That was the only explanation.  
    “And, for the record, after Maddie fed me that bunch of malarkey about Father Michael being interested in her, I got the truth out of her. She wanted me to apologize to you. She just saw him as one more thing that would come to you easily, and it made her angry enough to get in the way.”  
    Her mother moved towards the door, sliding into her coat as she went. Obviously, their little chitchat was over. That was okay. If they talked much more her mother might reveal even more startling news. Like where Hoffa was buried.  
    “Mom, let me get you a cab.”  
    “That won’t be necessary, dear. Mr. Wilkinson dropped me off and told me he’d be back promptly at 10:30 to get me.” 
    “Mr. Wilkinson?”  
    “Yes, a nice gentleman I met over at your Michael’s church.”  
    Faith blinked. She wouldn’t be surprised if her head started spinning on her shoulders. In the last ten minutes, her mother had completely revised the way she saw her relationship to her sister, and now her mother, the woman who had been setting a place at the table for her dead husband for close to two decades, was accepting a ride from a “nice gentleman.”  
    She closed the front door behind her mother and sagged against it. “I may need to take up drinking.”
     
    Faith tossed and turned for a few hours, but sleep failed to claim her. Her mother’s words played over in her head. She did have a mind of her own. She didn’t let people steer her off course when she set her mind on something. Until recently.  
    Saturday night made it abundantly clear her music had fallen flat lately. And her reaction to her sister’s taunting—spouting out a lie and then turning tail and running. She barely recognized the woman who had done those things.  
    As sunlight peeked through the sheer white curtains of her bedroom and the din of birds outside became loud enough to wake the dead, Faith came to a conclusion.  
    She was an idiot.  
    She’d let her own doubts about being right for Michael get in the way of what could be something fabulous. And it could be fabulous. She felt it from the very first time she met him. He was