Page 13 of With All My Heart, Joy

Uncapping a pen, he grabbed the card at the top of the stack with a painting of a snow-speckled cardinal, opened it, and started writing. It was just a little thank-you note. Nothing more.

Dear JJ,

I must say I have never received mail quite like yours. The world needs more people with such a generous nature. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

Yes, Paisley is my daughter. She is ten. Maybe a bit on the young side for makeup, but I will let her look up this store. Hopefully there are some age-appropriate items. She will be very excited, let me assure you. She has special needs, and the smallest things mean more than you would believe. This will be huge. I can’t wait to tell her.

I appreciate the Fresh Ground card. It won’t go to waste. My favorite drink is the caffe latte. I can get a lot of caffe lattes with this card. Paisley loves to go with me for hot chocolate and play one of the games they keep on hand.

My mother will be so grateful to you when I tell her what happened. Truly, in a world that thinks mostly of self, you stand out with your thoughts of others, even those you don’t know. The ones you do know must be very blessed.

Best wishes for the holidays as well. May God bless you richly.

Sincerely,

Zak Miller

It was the longest letter he’d written in years. He wasn’t a card man. And he definitely wasn’t a spill-it-to-strangers man. He was used to being on the receiving end of that treatment. It felt weird to be unloading on someone else even in the smallest way. And yet, it gave him an odd thrill.

“Dad! I done!” The tremendous splash that followed Paisley’s words sent Isaac running. She always managed to flood the bathroom floor when she got out of the bathtub, but she was old enough that he wanted to encourage privacy.

This was where a mom would come in handy.

“You okay, cupcake?”

“I just…wet.”

He let out a laugh. “Most people are after a bath. Dry yourself with a towel, and I’ll take care of the floor.”

He tried to hurry her along from the opposite side of the door. The longer she stayed wet, the higher chance she had of catching a cold. Thanks to her weak lungs, she’d ended up in the hospital more than once from something as simple as a cold.

“Dry your hair well,” he said as she pushed past him wrapped in a towel. “Let me know if you need help.”

While he was on all fours in the small bathroom with a dripping towel, an acrid smell tickled his nose. “Nooo,” he groaned. He’d burned their dinner. Again.

After a delayed meal of toast and applesauce, Isaac hung his head. Paisley deserved so much better.

“Sweetie, there’s something you have to see.” Anything to brighten the long face his disappointing meal had produced on his daughter. Even makeup. The squeal that sounded from her mouth when he showed her the card and the escalating noise that followed as he led her to the computer to look up the website was the best thing he’d heard all day.

Thank you, JJ Hall. Whoever you are.

* * * * *

“Do you like Bundt cake?” The counseling client across from Isaac batted impossibly long eyelashes. Were those fake? He wasn’t an expert in makeup matters by any stretch of the imagination. An hour spent browsing Taylors’ online store had only confounded him on the subject. But if someone had real lashes that long, they would need a hairbrush to manage them.

“Uh, yes. I think I do.” If he could remember what Bundt cake was, he’d be more certain. “Now, as I was asking—”

“I’ll bring you some next time,” she interrupted, angling her body to maximize his view of her cleavage. “Or you could come to my house and try it?”

Isaac pressed his lips together. He hated when clients flirted.Hatedit. “Reese.”

She peered at him through those ridiculous eyelashes.

“You’re here for counseling. Nothing more.”

Her posture drooped. “Fine. I just don’t understand why you’re single.”

He smiled kindly. “You don’t need to understand my life. You need to understand yours. I have an incredibly firm rule about dating clients. Simply put, I don’t date my clients. And I don’t break that rule.” The one time he had, it had nearly ruined him. He’d learned his lesson. Besides, he was the one who had put that rule in writing at Living Hope Counseling. It wasn’t only a personal rule. It was company policy. “Let’s focus on you. Not me. Understood?”

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