Evan (Angel Institute #6)

Chapter 6

Six

BETTY

T he chilly December air fills my lungs as I appear at the edge of Evan's Christmas tree farm, the scent of foliage and damp earth mingling in a fragrant dance. It's early, the sun just beginning its steady rise, but already I can sense the stirring of life, the gentle hum of anticipation that heralds the start of another day.

I walk among the rows of trees, my fingers trailing over the frost-kissed needles, marveling at the way they glisten in the nascent light. Each one is a tiny miracle, a witness to the power of nature, of growth, of the indomitable spirit that drives all living things to reach for the heavens.

And yet, as I attune my angelic senses to the farm's energy, I feel an undercurrent of restlessness, of discontent. It's Evan, I know, his spirit still yearning for something more, something beyond the confines of this small-town life.

I sigh, my heart aching for this lost soul who can't see the beauty, the purpose, the sheer magic that surrounds him. If only I could open his eyes, help him understand that true happiness, true fulfillment, lies not in some distant horizon, but in the here and now, in the love and connection and sense of belonging that's waiting for him, if only he'd let it in.

But I know it's not that simple. Evan's journey is his own, his choices, his revelations, not mine to control or dictate. All I can do is guide, support, and pray that somehow, someway, he'll find his way to the life, the love he's meant for.

As if in answer to my silent plea, I feel a sudden shift in the air, a ripple of joy and excitement that makes my angelic heart soar. I turn, my eyes widening as I see Molly's car pulling up the gravel drive, Chad bouncing in his seat, his face pressed against the window in eager anticipation.

They're here, and I can’t help but think about the woman and child who hold the key to Evan's healing, to his happiness. The ones who can show him, better than I ever could, the true meaning of Christmas, of family, of home.

I close my eyes, reaching out with my celestial senses, weaving a gentle blessing into the early morning air. Let them see the beauty in this place, the potential, the promise. Let their love, their laughter, their unshakeable belief in the goodness of life be the beacon that guides Evan back to the light.

When I open my eyes, Molly and Chad are already out of the car, their cheeks flushed with cold and excitement. Molly is wearing a cozy red sweater and a pair of well-worn jeans, her chestnut hair escaping from beneath a knit hat in wispy tendrils. Chad is a bundle of energy, his puffy blue coat making him look like a miniature marshmallow as he darts among the trees, his laughter ringing out like silver bells.

"Mom, look!" he calls, pointing to a towering Douglas fir. "It's taller than our house!"

Molly laughs, the sound warm and rich and full of love. "It sure is, buddy. It’s as all as the one in the town square.”

As they continue to explore, exclaiming over each new discovery, I catch a glimpse of Evan emerging from the barn, his dark hair tousled, his blue eyes still heavy with sleep. But as he spots Molly and Chad, a smile blooms across his face, bright and genuine, chasing away the shadows that always seem to linger in his gaze.

"Well, well, well," he calls, striding towards them, his boots crunching in the snow. "If it isn't my two favorite new employees."

Molly grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "We’re ready to get to work.”

Evan's eyebrows shoot up as a wide smile cuts across his face. “I’m glad to hear it, but I thought you weren’t coming until the afternoon. Didn’t you have a morning shift at the diner? And doesn’t Chad have school?”

Molly smiles sheepishly, “I forgot it was teacher prep day, so no school for the students. Luckily, I checked the calendar before bed last night. I switched my shift to the evening shift and was hoping you wouldn’t mind your employees showing up early.”

Evan smiles and points at the barn. “Of course I don’t mind, I’ve got your wreath making station all set up.”

As they head towards the barn, chattering and laughing, I feel a swell of warmth in my chest, a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, this will be the day that everything changes. The day that Evan sees the farm, not as a burden, but as a blessing, a chance to create something beautiful, something lasting, with the people he loves.

I decide now is the perfect opportunity to spend some quality time with my assignment. “Hello there.” I call out as I approach them.

Evan turns, his eyes lighting with recognition. “Oh, hello—Barb…”

“Betty,” I interject. “How are you Evan?”

“Good.” He smiles and I’m glad he remembers me. “Betty, this is Molly and her son Chad.”

“It’s nice to meet you Betty.” Molly smiles, the gesture illuminating her eyes. I can feel her sweet spirit emanating all around her. No wonder Evan likes her so much.

“You too,” I add as I wave at Chad, who offers me a big toothy grin, making me miss my grandson. I silently promise to check in on him later; send him a little angel love.

“Are you in need of a tree?” Evan asks.

“Oh, no.” I reach inside my pocket and feel the Miracle Card. Now’s not the right time to use it, but it’s reassuring to know it’s there. “I came to see if you could use a volunteer.” I exhale as 3 vehicles, full of eager Christmas Tree enthusiasts, pull into the parking area.

Evan glances at the trucks, then at me. “Yes,” he scratches at the wool cap on his head. “It looks like I could some extra help.” He smiles at me. “Talk about perfect timing.”

“It’s kind of my thing.” I grin. “Where would you like me?”

Evan looks over as his latest customers emerge from the vehicles and wander towards the rows of trees. “I’ll go help them, if you’ll go into the barn and help Molly get started on some wreaths.” His eyes meet Molly’s—the connection between them is palpable—“I’ve got a feeling we’re going to need as many wreaths as we can get.”

“Sounds great.” I’m excited to do something other than sew.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Evan nods and takes off towards the customers.

I follow Molly inside, the scent of pine and cinnamon enveloping me like a hug.There are a couple of other employees bustling about, hanging garlands, stacking firewood, and arranging displays of ornaments and trinkets. In the center of it all is a large wooden table, piled high with evergreen boughs, ribbons, and wire.

“You must be the new employees.” A giant of a man with a handlebar mustache makes his way over. “Evan said you’d be coming today.”

Molly looks up, followed by Chad’s exaggerated stare. “I’m Molly, and this is my son Chad.”

“And I’m Betty, volunteering for the day,” I add.

“Glad to have you. I’m Paul and that over there is Seth.” He glances towards the man standing on the ladder hanging garland. Seth nods in our direction.

“Evan asked us to make wreaths.” Molly looks at the table, then at me. “We better get started.”

I agree as Paul invites Chad to help stack the extra cut boughs for wreaths. Chad looks at his mom for permission, then marches off behind Paul, a little spring to his step.

Molly and I go to the table. “I’ve never made a wreath before.” I admit. Suddenly my robe-making insecurities surface.Maybe I’d better help Chad.

“That’s okay. It’s really simple.” Molly slips her coat off and hangs it on a nearby chair. "Wreath-making 101. The first thing you need to know is that it's all about the base. You want to start with a good, sturdy frame, something that will hold up to all the decorations you're going to pile on top."

She reaches for a coil of wire, her fingers deft and sure as she shapes it into a circle. "See, like this. Nice and tight, but not too tight. You want it to have a little give, a little flexibility."

I watch her work, not truly convinced this is something I can do."You make it look so easy," I murmur as I reach out to touch a sprig of holly.

Molly grins, handing me the wire frame. "That's because it is easy once you get the hang of it. Here, you try."

As I weave the greenery around the wire, my brow furrowed in concentration, Evan steps into the barn. “How’s it going?”

“Just got started.” Molly gets to work. I sense Evan's gaze lingering on her face, tracing the curve of her cheek, the fullness of her lips. There's a tenderness in his eyes, a longing that makes my angelic heart flutter with anticipation.

Oh, my dear boy, if you only knew how much she cares for you, how much light and love she could bring into your life, if only you'd let her.

But Evan looks away, his expression clouding over, and I can feel the old doubts, the old fears, creeping back in. He's still holding himself back, still clinging to the idea that he doesn't deserve happiness, that he's somehow betraying his family, his legacy, by even daring to dream of a different life.

I want to reach out, to shake him, to shout in his ear that he's wrong, that he's worthy, that he's loved. But I know it's not my place, not my role. All I can do is watch, and pray, and hope that somehow, someway, he'll find the courage to open his heart, to take the leap of faith that will change everything.

“I better get back out there. If you need anything, just ask Paul or Seth.” Evan straightens his shoulders. “It’s going to be a busy day.”

As the morning wears on, more customers arrive, families and couples and groups of friends, all eager to find the perfect tree, the perfect wreath, the perfect little piece of Christmas magic to take home with them. Evan moves among them, greeting each one with a smile and a kind word, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he listens to their stories, their laughter, their dreams.

And as he does, I can feel something shifting in him, a softening, a warming, like the first tentative blooms of spring after a long, hard winter. He's starting to see the farm through their eyes, through Molly's eyes, to understand the joy, the wonder, the sheer delight that it brings to so many hearts.

It's a small change, a subtle one, but it's there, growing stronger with every passing moment. And as I watch him, as I feel the love, the gratitude, the pure, unbridled happiness radiating from every soul he touches, I can't stop myself from smiling, my own spirit lifting knowing that maybe, just maybe, my work here is not in vain.

But even as I revel in the progress, in the glimmers of hope and healing, I can't shake the feeling that something is still holding Evan back, some deep-seated pain or fear that he's not yet ready to face. And so, I close my eyes once more, reaching out with all the love, all the compassion, all the divine guidance that my angelic heart can muster.

Show him, I whisper to heaven above, to the great force that moves us all. Show him the truth of who he is, of what he's meant to be. Give him the strength, the courage, the faith to let go of the past and embrace the beautiful, boundless future that awaits him.

For a moment, there is only silence, a stillness so profound that it feels like the entire world is holding its breath. And then, as if in answer to my prayer, I hear Molly's voice, kind and gentle, drifting across the barn like a summer breeze.

"Evan," she says, her hand coming to rest on his arm. "Can I ask you something?"

He turns to her, his brow furrowed, his eyes searching her face. "Of course. Anything."

She hesitates, biting her lip, as if gathering her courage. "I was just wondering... what made you decide to take over the farm? I mean, I know it's been in your family for generations, but... was it always your dream, to be here, to do this work?"

Evan stiffens, his jaw clenching, and for a moment, I'm afraid he's going to shut down, to push her away. But then, something in him seems to crumble, his shoulders sagging, his eyes filling with a weariness, a vulnerability, that I've never seen before.

"No," he says, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. "No, it wasn't my dream. It was my father's, and his father's, before him. But dad’s body was wearing out and he couldn't manage the farm anymore, and I didn't see any other choice. My brother's in the military, he can't be here, and my mom... she needs to be with my dad. They deserve to enjoy these years together. So I stepped up, I took on the responsibility. Because that's what you do, right? That's what family means."

Molly nods, her eyes shining with understanding, with empathy. "Of course. Of course it is. But Evan... that doesn't mean you have to give up on your own dreams, your own happiness.”

Evan looks at her, his expression raw, stripped bare, and I can see the war raging within him, the desperate, aching longing to believe her, to trust in the possibility of something more. “It’s hard to chase after your own dreams when you’re living someone else’s.”

Molly smiles, her hand tightening on his arm, her eyes holding his with a fierce, unwavering compassion. "I think sometimes we get caught up in what we think we’re missing out on, I’ve seen you handle the trees with such tenderness and care, andI’ve seen the way you talk with your customers, if I didn’t know better I’d say this is your dream.” She studies his face. “Evan, what you’re doing here matters. You matter to this town,” Molly pauses. “To me.”

And with those words, something in Evan seems to break open. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I really needed to hear that.”

And as they stand there, lost in each other, in the perfect, shining moment of connection and understanding, I feel a warmth blooming in my chest, a light so bright, so pure, that it feels like the very essence of heaven itself.

It turns out there are angels on earth and Molly is one of them.

And as I watch them, as I feel the love, the joy, the sheer, incandescent hope radiating from every fiber of their beings, I know that my work here is not finished, but it has reached a turning point.

A new chapter, a new beginning, full of promise and possibility.