Michael's Wish, part 4

Morgan was near the main reception hall when several women came calling from the parish. He greeted them personally.

“Merry Christmas,” they said gaily. “We'll only take a moment of your time.”

“Greetings, and welcome to my home, ladies. Please, take my time, I have it to give.”

By his insistence, their coats were taken and he sat them in the receiving parlor and offered them refreshments and sweets. He let the newer members of the Ladies Committee marvel at the grandeur of his residence while he deflected any credit on its appearance to the house servents. As he sat down with a lowball in his hand, he asked, “What may I do for the church this year?”

They thanked him for his wonderful generosity that year. He modestly said that it is hardly generosity when one has the money to burn. He then pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket and placed it on a setting table. “For the usual charities,” he stated.

“Are you going to sing this year?” a young voice asked.

Morgan turned toward the direction of the asker. “I had planned on it.”

“Would you be willing to sing for midnight mass, too? We would love to have you.”

“My answer is the same as every year, for the same reason. I always sing here. Do you have any family cases for me this year?”

He settled back into his chair and took a sip from his drink. A folder was handed to him and he opened it and carefully flipped the pages. They were the stiff stock necessary for braille. He ran his fingers over them lengthwise and nodded. The next half-hour was spent in wonderfully trite conversation. He then excused himself but importuned them to stay as long as they wished. His hospitality was open even if he had other things that needed his attention. At that moment, he heard Michael coming down the grand staircase.