Angel Be Good (15 page)

"The Council might be able to take away my
memory of Nat, but we're united in every way that matters, Leonard.
How can they tear us apart?" Her voice broke but she fought to keep
control of her spiraling emotions.

The angel's face looked older, his eyes dull
and filled with pain. "We can't know the grand designs planned for
our lives, Daphne. All we can do is our best to serve fate and
trust in the Council to know what is best. No matter how much it
hurts for me to be the instrument of their designs, I have no
choice but to follow their orders."

His head tilted. "Listen!"

Daphne heard the squeal of a monitor,
signaling someone died.

"She'll soon be leaving her body and it will
be time for you to take it up. Come." He extended his hand.

Daphne ignored the gesture and stepped into
the hospital room. There on the bed, beneath countless tubes and
wires attached to machines with dozens of lights and dials, lay a
woman, no longer breathing. On one of the machines, a long straight
line played out, signifying the lack of a heart beat.

As doctors struggled to jump-start the
woman's heart, much like she'd done to her car's battery, Daphne
looked at the woman's face. "Her?!"

Leonard joined her. "You did ask me to
choose someone with a good heart. Of all the possibilities we had,
she's the biggest hearted and most generous."

"The tattooed lady? You've got to be
kidding."

"She's hardly tattooed, just one tiny rose,
hidden on her ... um ... hip."

"I can't believe you want to do this to me.
Haven't I been a good person? Didn't I do just exactly what the
Council asked of me? Forget it, Leonard." Daphne shook her head
determinedly.

"There isn't another choice. She's ready for
you now. If you'll recline atop her, the transformation will take
place."

"And if I don't? I just dematerialize? Maybe
that's a better choice." There was no way she wanted to do this.
She had to be near Nat, otherwise life was fruitless. "Isn't there
a chance that if I do, I'll return to heaven?"

"Oh, my. Oh, my. Oh, my." Leonard was back
to dithering. "I don't think so. I simply don't know what will
happen. You've done everything right, Daphne. It wouldn't be a
deliberate punishment, but I do not believe you'd immediately
return to heaven."

"I have a fifty percent chance, don't I? Of
going to up there?"

"I'm sorry, Daphne. I have to advise you
against the risk. Please, I beg you, take your place now."

Daphne heard the sound of harp strings.
Tears soaked her face as she made her way to Terry's prostrate
body. "I can't leave Nat. There has to be a way, Leonard. There
just has to be—"

He twisted his hands. "There is no other
way. Lie down, Daphne."

"The Council can take away my memories,
Leonard. But they can't take away my heartbreak at leaving Nat."
Brushing back the tears, she reclined on the bed and felt her
essence slip into Terry's. Her eyes grew heavy, and she slept.

The angel watched as Daphne's soul settled
into place. The monitors jerked back into life, the harried doctors
cheering at the sight of her steady heartbeat.

*

Nathaniel Danvers snorted, the sound
awakening him from a deep sleep. He pulled himself upright at his
desk, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs. It had been a peculiar
dream, one of angels and his past, of redemption and not being too
late to change.

He checked the clock. Nine o'clock Christmas
morning. He stretched, then looked out the window of his penthouse
office, down below at merry Christmas revelers.

He glanced at the pocket planner, lying open
on his desk. It hadn't been a dream. It had all happened. There
were his carefully written notes to prove it.

The angels had wanted him to believe in
something he couldn't touch, taste, see or hear—and they'd been
successful. For the first time in his memory, he believed.

Time to get busy.

Grabbing the pile of pink slips from his out
box, a sense of happy anticipation nagged him. Although it was
corny, a truism snapped into his head. This is the first day of the
rest of your life.

The rest of his life? His heart clutched.
There was something missing. He searched the recesses of his mind
and found an ache, a loss. But he couldn't find an explanation for
it.

The niggling wrongness would have to wait,
though. He had a lot to accomplish today.

Rushing to the outer office, he made a
beeline for the paper shredder and in only a matter of minutes, the
pink slips became confetti. One task complete.

Returning to his desk, he picked up the
phone. It was operational. Good. He buzzed security. Curtis
answered, sounding a little hungover. Nat grinned.

"Merry Christmas, Curtis."

"Mr. Danvers?"

"Yes, it's me. I have a favor to ask."

"Yes, sir?"

"Meet me in the toy department in five
minutes. I could use some assistance. And after we're done, Curtis,
close up shop. With all our electronic surveillance devices, I
think the store's safe for today."

"Yes, sir!"

Nat hung up, then punched a button on the
stereo system behind his desk, looking for mood music. The radio
station blared out Christmas carols. Perfect.

Next, he read over the notes he'd made in
his pocket planner. How could he best help the homeless family?

Toys and clothing would be helpful, but what
the father needed was employment. Nat grabbed a legal pad and wrote
out a memo to Danvers and Son's personnel director. In it, he
instructed the personnel director to give preferential
consideration to the homeless when it came to job applications.
Also, the company would provide assistance for them with housing.
Next, he gave specifics about the homeless family. The father
needed a job, a home and self respect. Nat would see to it he got
all three.

Turning to a new sheet of paper, Nat wrote a
memo to all employees, stating the year had been successful. As CEO
of Danvers and Son, he apologized that he hadn't been able to give
out bonuses by Christmas, but hopefully their checks would arrive
in plenty of time to pay off Christmas bills. Nat cringed a moment,
thinking about the bottom line and how much this was going to cost
him. He shrugged. Christmas was only once a year and the employees
deserved it.

Checking his pocket planner again, he saw a
note he couldn't recall having written, although it was in his own
handwriting. It was bracketed and had several asterisks. He
scratched his head, wondering why he had no memory of it.
Obviously, it was important.

He shrugged. It would probably come back to
him later. After turning to another page on his legal pad, he wrote
a memo to his secretary asking her to check on the financial and
health conditions of an elderly couple in Arkansas. Since he
couldn't recall the circumstances, he directed her to advise him of
any action necessary to make certain the couple was secure.
However, any assistance from him was to remain anonymous. That
should cover whatever it was he'd had in mind when he'd written the
note.

Looking at the list again, he kept thinking
of the little girl who'd wanted the Victorian doll. At one time,
the manager of the large toy store had once been an employee of
Danvers and Son. He was sorely tempted to give her a call.

Temptation won. Leafing through his address
file, he found the number he wanted. He picked up the phone again,
wondering what kind of reception he'd receive since the woman had
left Danvers and Son rather abruptly. Nat hoped he could make it up
to her.

The problem was, they'd once dated, and Nat
had treated her as he'd treated every other woman. In other words,
he'd taken but never given anything in return. In retrospect, he
could see he'd been less than honorable in his treatment of
her.

She deserved success and happiness. Nat
hoped she'd found it. The phone rang, and soon she answered.

"I never expected to hear from you," Ellen
growled once he'd identified himself.

"I feel bad about that."

"Yeah, right," she replied. "You dumped me
faster than a cabbie drops a fare. I know you want something. Out
with it."

"It's not for me," he was quick to assure
her.

"Like hell it's not. You've never done
anything in your life that was selfless."

Nat realized that based on his past actions,
merely stating he'd changed wouldn't be enough. For the first time,
the consequences came home to him. "I know that my saying so won't
convince you. But I'm not sure what can."

"I have to admit, you've got me intrigued."
Ellen paused for a moment. "Just what is it you think I can do for
you?"

She didn't state it, but it was clear in her
tone. She'd reserve judgment. That was all he could ask for and
probably more than he deserved. "I want one of your Victorian dolls
and a girl's dress to match."

"You trying to sleep with the kid's mother?
No. Don't tell me." Her voice was scandalized. "You've done low
things in your life, but I had no idea you'd stooped to molesting
children."

Nat cringed. He'd earned everything she said
but that didn't solve his problem. He wanted that doll for the kid.
"I admit I'm a jerk, Ellen, but if you'll listen for a minute,
you'll see that this time I'm doing the right thing."

"Go on."

"There's this homeless family that's been
living under the 49th Street Bridge. The dad's out of a job. For
Christmas gifts, they trade pictures of their dreams. Their
daughter wants that doll and I'd like to see she gets it. It means
a lot to her. Even though it's coming from me, could you please
help?"

"I think I've heard it all."

"I tried to tell you, I've turned over a new
leaf."

"And to think, I thought you couldn't teach
old dogs new tricks. What's gotten into you? Have you fallen in
love?"

Had he fallen in love? Somehow it felt right
but he couldn't conjure up a face or even a woman's name, just an
empty black hole where his heart should be. "Yes and no. I haven't
fallen in love with a woman. I've fallen in love with life and
Christmas and humanity. It's been a long time coming, but I mean to
make some changes and I've got to start somewhere. Will you
help?"

"I'd pay money to see you in action, Nat.
I'll get the doll, my treat."

"Thanks, Ellen. I owe you one. You always
were a nice woman."

"Yeah, I know."

"I feel awful about hurting you. I'm
genuinely sorry. I know it can't make up for the past, but can I
take you to dinner?"

"Too much water under that bridge, Nat. You
broke my heart once, you don't get a second chance."

"I hear you. Are you happy, Ellen?"

"Yeah. I've met a great guy. We're talking
marriage and kids. The whole ball of wax."

"I envy you." He did. A longing to belong,
to have a family, sliced through him like a knife through
butter.

"Hell, maybe you'll find the right person
one of these days."

"I certainly hope so. When can I pick up the
doll?"

After working out the details, Nat hung up,
feeling sad about what he'd missed out on with Ellen, feeling
regretful he'd be spending another holiday alone.

That reminded him, it was time to meet
Curtis. Nat headed for the elevator and within minutes found his
security chief in the toy department. "How's your head?"

"Fine, now. How'd you know?"

Nat grinned. "I saw you sleeping like a baby
last night."

Curtis ducked his head.

Nat patted his back. "Let's try to confine
our celebrating to once a year, though, okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Danvers. Thanks for
understanding."

"Hey, I'm an understanding guy. But I'm
going to need some help. Think you can find a truck lift and bring
it onto the showroom? We're going to do a little shopping."

"You got it." Curtis darted off.

While Nat waited, he grabbed a selection of
dolls, action figures and stuffed animals, making a heap in the
middle of the floor. He tapped his forehead. He'd almost forgotten
the skateboard.

After adding the super deluxe skate-o-rama
to the pile, he consulted his pocket planner to see what was next
on his list. Men's Fine Clothing.

Curtis arrived with the truck and
immediately joined into the spirit of things. He grabbed up the
heap and followed Nat through the store.

Passing by Lady's Fashions, Nat flipped
through the furs until he selected a heavy-duty black sable coat.
Tossing it into the truck, he signaled the security chief to move
on.

They arrived in the Men's department. Nat
chose five suits that he thought would do. He chuckled. "Hey,
Curtis. I thought up a pun. Think these suits are suitable?"

Curtis smiled wanly and shook his head. "My
wife is never going to believe me."

"She'll believe you when you get your bonus
check," Nat replied.

The security chief thought it over, then
grinned. "That should do it, boss."

"Good."

"While you're in such a generous mood, maybe
you'd consider helping out some needy kids?" asked Curtis.

Nat realized he was being tested. Again,
merely stating he'd changed wasn't enough. "Tell me about the
kids."

"I volunteer at a local mission. This year,
the donations of toys or money haven't been big enough to guarantee
a toy for each kid. The economy is tight for all of us." Curtis
glanced toward the toy department. "I play Santa, Mr. Danvers. I'd
sure feel a lot better about it if I had more toys. Santa doesn't
pick and choose between kids, he's an equal opportunity giver."

"Take whatever you need. I don't want any
child to do without this year, not if I can help it." Nat grabbed a
stack of board games, then tossed them in the truck. "We can always
restock."

Curtis gathered a handful of dolls. He
lovingly laid them in the truck. "I can't tell you how much I
appreciate this, sir. I just wish the whole world could have a
little of whatever changed you."