A Season of Angels by Debbie Macomber Page A

all the love she had for the child that was to have been hers. She gave Pam’s three children gifts every Christmas and invented excuses for outings with them, but it was Scotty who ruled her heart.
    â€œI hate Christmas parties,” Pam muttered, folding the sweater and setting it back on the table. She ran her hand over the top and sighed expressively. “I was thinking I’d cut down the fancy maternity dress I wore a couple of years ago and—”
    â€œAbsolutely not,” Leah insisted. “We’re going to find you a dress that will make you feel like a queen for Doug’s Christmas party.”
    â€œThat will take some doing,” Pam muttered. “Two years at home with the kids and I’m afraid I’ve lost it.”
    â€œLost what?”
    â€œI don’t know how to explain it,” Pam admitted slowly. “I think a part of the brain starts to deteriorate after so many years of dealing with diapers, bottles, and potty training. It’s like you’re on the children’s level for so much of the day that you lose the ability to communicate with other adults.”
    â€œAll this tells me is that you need to get away more often.”
    â€œThat’s probably true,” Pam agreed, “but you wouldn’t believe the trouble it is to find a baby-sitter, especially on weekdays.”
    â€œWhat about taking some time for yourself while the kids go down for their naps?”
    Pam laughed softly as they headed toward the escalator. “Nap time is like an oasis in the middle of the day. I treasure every moment of that hour, but lately even that time’s been robbed from me. I’m sewing Scotty and Jason Batman pajamas and that’s the only free time I have to do it.”
    â€œBatman pajamas?”
    â€œThey’re crazy about him and Spider-Man.”
    â€œWhy don’t you sew in the evenings?” Leah suggested. It made perfect sense to her since the three were generally in bed by eight.
    Pam laughed and shook her head. “Because, my dear friend, I’m too pooped. Honestly, I head for bed no more than an hour after the kids. I never dreamed I’d be in bed before nine. Remember me, the original night owl? Trust me, kids will do that to you.”
    A pang of envy struck Leah at the thought of her life being dominated by the demands of a houseful of children. Then again, the grass always appeared greener on the other side of the fence. More than once, Pam had said how much she envied Leah her freedom.
    Freedom. True, she often had time on her hands, but for what?
    â€œI’m on a budget, you know,” Pam complained when they reached Nordstrom’s second floor.
    â€œWould you stop?” Leah demanded, laughing. “We haven’t even gotten to the women’s section yet and already you’re convinced you aren’t going to find anything.”
    â€œMy old maternity dress isn’t all that bad.”
    â€œPam!” Leah braced her hands against her hips and glared at her friend. “Now I understand why Doug insisted I go shopping with you. He knew darn good and well that you’d end up buying something for everyone else and nothing for yourself.”
    â€œDid you see that darling pinafore,” Pam said, pointing toward the children’s section. “Diane would look like an angel dressed in that.”
    Leah looped her arm through Pam’s and steered her in the opposite direction. “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do.”
    â€œWhat? Hog-tie me and force me to try on several dresses?”
    â€œClose. I’m taking you directly to the dressing room and bringing the party dresses in to you.”
    Pam’s shoulders sagged with defeat as they entered the dressing room area. “All right, just try to find something reasonably priced, will you?” Leah opened the white louvered door and gently pushed her friend inside.
    Pam stuck out her hand and waved