Angel Unaware (12 page)

Dora couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like for a child to have been raised in this kind of atmosphere, surrounded by angel statues and loved and pampered by a woman who was as close to an angel herself as any mortal could get. The fact that Millie and Preston had never had a child seemed so heartbreakingly unfair. If only they were younger, Dora would have tried to intercede for them with the Angel of Destiny.

Millie came back into the kitchen wiping her hands on her pristine, white ruffled apron. “Preston’s watching
Jeopardy
, and that’ll keep him busy while we have a cup of coffee and indulge ourselves in some girl talk.” Once the coffee was poured and Millie had supplied a plate of her sugar cookies, she took a seat across from Dora. “Now, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

For a moment, all Dora could do was play with her spoon. Now that she was facing Millie, she felt foolish. In comparison to the challenges Millie faced daily in her life, the feelings she was having for Tony seemed trivial.

A warm hand slid over hers. “Dora, there’s nothing you can’t talk to me about.”

So many times Dora had heard Earth mothers tell their daughters that very same thing. It warmed her and removed all hesitation. Still, she hedged, not from embarrassment or because she felt it trivial, but because she simply hated admitting her ignorance about such a basic emotion. “There’s this girl I know. A friend of mine. She’s falling in love with this man, a man who is totally wrong for her in every way. She knows it’s impossible for her to ever have a relationship with him, but …” She cleared her throat. “Well, she wants to know how to stop loving him.”

Millie stared at her for a long moment, her expression puzzled. Then she chuckled softly and patted Dora’s hand. “Honey, I’m afraid your … uh … friend is stuck. You see, you can’t stop love.”

Dora’s heart dropped. “You can’t?”

“Nope.” Millie shook her head vigorously. Her salt-and-pepper curls bobbed merrily around her face. “Once old Cupid fires his arrow into you, that’s it.”

Dora didn’t correct Millie’s reference to the legendary bowman. She knew that the Archangel Michael had created Cupid as a practical joke on Raphael. Michael had taken perverse pleasure in circulating a rumor that Cupid, not Raphael, oversaw love in a diaper with a bow and a quiver of arrows strapped to his tiny back. The Archangel had stomped around Heaven for eons protesting, but by then the rumor had taken on a life of its own and now it was impossible to deny.

Putting aside the Cupid reference, Dora protested. “But my friend is all wrong for this man. They come from different places and lead totally different lives.”

Millie shook her head again. “Doesn’t matter. Love is the only emotion the good Lord gave us that can’t be controlled and that’s blind to everything but the heart’s longings.” She bit into a cookie and chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. “Take Preston and me. No two people were ever more mismatched. He loves those darn game shows, and I’d rather be out in the sunshine digging in my flower bed or curled up with a good book. I like a good shoot ’em up movie, and he favors the old-time musicals. Seems in all the years we’ve been together, we never agreed on anything … except wanting children.” Her eyes teared up. “But when we found out I was barren, I couldn’t have asked for a more understanding, loving man. If it hadn’t been for his love and his strength, I don’t think I’d have gotten through that time.”

“But—”

Millie’s squeezed Dora’s hand. “Honey, if you love someone, nothing can change that, nothing on this Earth or in Heaven.”

Dora sighed in defeat. Maybe not on Earth, but she knew one angel who would do everything in his considerable power to change it in Heaven.

Millie munched thoughtfully on a Christmas tree cookie. Finally, she put it on her saucer and looked directly into Dora’s eyes. “It’s Tony, isn’t it?”

“Excuse me?”

“Tony. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Before

Dora could answer, Millie rushed on. “Oh, I saw it in your eyes that first day. And I couldn’t be happier. You and Tony will make such a wonderful couple and a terrific family for little Penny.”

Dora’s heart dropped to her feet. The chances of that happening were zero to none. Worse, if she hadn’t been able to keep the truth from Millie, how would she ever keep it from Tony? “Okay. You’re right. I was talking about myself. I do love Tony. But since I hardly know him, I don’t understand how that could happen.”

Millie shook her head. “Time has nothing to do with anything. One day or one million days, when love hits, it hits. Take my Preston and me. We knew the minute we saw each other that we’d spend the rest of our lives together.” She placed her hand over her heart. “You know in here. For some people, it has to sprout, then come to bud and grow, but for others it’s there immediately, like an open rose drinking in the sunshine. But no matter which way it hits you, it’s there, and the right kind, the strong kind, lives forever.”

Dora remembered how her heart had fluttered that first day. Was Millie right? Had she fallen in love with Tony that first day? It was a question she wasn’t ready to answer, so she changed the subject. Millie just smiled and allowed their conversation to be led in another direction.

For the next hour they drank more coffee, scarfed down more cookies, and talked about cooking and the pros and cons of ham or turkey for Christmas dinner. “I’m thinking turkey. It’s traditional.”

“No,” Millie said, shaking her head. “I always liked to do a Virginia-baked ham. There’s always such chaos in the house on Christmas and preparing a turkey takes you away from the center of the action. I do so enjoy watching everyone open presents, and I’d miss that if I was stuck in the kitchen shoving dressing into a turkey. With the ham, you glaze it, baste it occasionally, and the rest of the time is yours.”

Millie’s argument made a lot of sense. Dora finally agreed that a ham was the way to go. But after all, when it came right down to it, it didn’t matter one way or the other. She wouldn’t even be there for Christmas dinner.

“
Dora
!”

Tony’s raised voice coming from outside the back door pierced the stillness that had settled over the kitchen. Both women jumped and dashed to the door. Outside, Tony stood at the bottom of Millie’s back porch steps, fists jammed on his hips, his face raging red, and his eyes fairly shooting fire.

“Where the hell is my niece?”

Dora cringed at the angry man before her. She’d never seen Tony like this, so infuriated. Dread chased up and down her body. Fear stole coherent thought from her head. She fought for words to answer his question, but her mind wouldn’t work. “I … uh … I—”

Millie stepped in front of Dora as though to shield her. “Lower your voice. How dare you use that tone on this child? Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Evidently, Millie’s stern reprimand hit home. Tony lowered not only his voice, but also his fists from his hips. “Where is Penny?” he repeated in a much more controlled, but nevertheless clipped tone.

“That’s better.” Millie stepped to the side and turned to Dora. “Where’s Penny, dear?”

With a lot of effort, Dora forced her brain to process the question. She glanced at Millie, then turned to Tony. “You were supposed to bring her home with you after your parent/teacher meeting this afternoon.”

Instantly, the crimson rage that had colored Tony’s face moments before drained away, leaving him shocked and pale. “Oh, my God, there was an accident at work with one of my men, and I forgot all about the meeting,” he whispered. He looked at his watch, then met Dora’s terrified gaze. “The meeting was over an hour ago.”

CHAPTER 8

With his heart pounding frantically, Tony dashed to his truck at a dead run. As he slipped and slid over Millie’s snow-covered lawn, he called back instructions to Dora over his shoulder. “You stay here in case Penny calls. I’ll go see if I can find her.”

Mentally, he beat himself up. How could he have forgotten his niece? No matter what was happening at work, this was inexcusable. Totally inexcusable. He should have remembered and called Dora to pick up Penny. What if something had happened to her? Oh, God! He couldn’t even consider it. Not Penny. Not Rosalie’s baby girl. Not another person he loved.

Almost before Tony had his door closed, the truck zipped backward down the driveway, slipping and sliding in every direction on the slick cement. He swung the truck around, threw the gearshift into
Drive
, and shot down the street, a prayer on his lips.

As he drove toward her school, he scanned the streets for any sign of the little girl. Time crawled by and still he saw no sign of Penny. As each moment ticked by, his level of apprehension grew. Beads of sweat coated his forehead, despite the cool air in the truck’s cab. He gripped the steering wheel with a strength that turned his knuckles a ghostly white. His throbbing heart felt as though it would burst from his chest. He’d never been so scared in all his life.

When he reached the school, he drove up to the front entrance, jumped out, and ran up the walk. He grabbed the door handle. It wouldn’t budge. Locked. He looked around, praying for the sight of a small, frightened girl waiting for her tardy uncle to show up, but there was no one anywhere in sight.

The terror inside him grew to alarming proportions. His stomach heaved. If he was this frightened, how must Penny feel thinking she’d been left behind, forgotten, abandoned?

“Penny!” He listened, hoping to hear her answer. Hoping she’d just wandered out of sight of the school. Silence. “Penny!” The absolute, mind-bending fear that consumed him resonated in his voice, making it quaver.

When he got no answer after the third and fourth time he called her name, he raced back to the truck and in seconds was careening down the school’s drive onto the street.

Though he drove slowly, the trees and houses he passed were a blur and all he saw clearly were the people moving along the sidewalks. Men, women, kids. None of them his niece. Crazed, impossible scenarios presented themselves in a kaleidoscope of wild imaginings. Each worse than the last. Predators, animals, traffic accidents battered his mind.

Then he turned down a street that ran parallel to the school’s and spotted a small girl huddled inside a baby blue ski jacket. He held his breath until he’d drawn up beside her and actually knew it was Penny. He mashed the brake, threw the truck into
Park
, and opened the door. Jumping out, he ran to her.

He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her to make sure she was okay, but he couldn’t. Something held him back. The little voice that warned him what happened when he allowed himself to love those around him. He tried to push it aside, knowing Penny needed him to hug her. In the end, however, he could not permit himself that show of emotion. Instead he took refuge in anger.

“Penny, where do you think you’re going?”

The child looked at him, then hung her head. “Home,” she whispered. “You forgot me, so I was walking home.”

As if a hand had reached inside his chest and squeezed his heart, Tony gasped. Guilt, prompted by the truth of her accusation, covered him like a mourning shroud. Still, he could not let go of his emotions and give Penny the physical reassurance that she was safe and loved.

“Get in the truck.”

She scooted past him and climbed into the driver’s seat, then slid across to the passenger’s side. She looked small huddled against the door.

Fear still churned inside him. “Put on your seat belt.” The sharp tone of his voice cut deeply into his conscience.

Penny did as he instructed, then cuddled up to the door as if trying to make herself smaller than she was, as though trying to get as far from the angry man beside her as she could. Tony could read the confusion in her face. She had to be asking herself why he was so angry with her when it was he who had forgotten her. Guilt soured his churning stomach.

Almost absently, he patted her shoulder, hoping it would ease her fear but at the same time knowing it was a pitiful gesture to offer a child who had been left in the school yard, left to think she didn’t matter. Still, it was all he could allow himself to offer.

The streetlights had come on and now they flashed streaks of light over Penny’s pale face. She shivered, probably chilled straight through to the bone. Tony turned up the heat and put the blower on high. Slowly, the interior of the truck grew toasty warm.

It only took minutes for them to reach home. When Tony brought the truck to a stop, Penny jumped out and ran into the house. Tony thought he heard a sob escape her as she ran up the front walk. He loathed himself for causing her more pain, but he just couldn’t let the softer side of himself to escape.

What the hell kind of person was he when he couldn’t give reassurance to a frightened little girl when she so desperately needed it?

Dora sat in the living room, the phone in her lap. Jack lay curled in a ball on the chair across from her. The message button on the answering machine blinked a bright red. Dora pushed it.