Angel Unaware (4 page)

Thunder rumbled outside. Dora rolled her eyes at the ceiling and shook her head.

Ready to move on to do more exploring, she glanced in the mirror and came to a screeching halt. She looked down at herself to confirm she still wore the yellow sweater, sneakers, and jeans Calvin had assured her were age-appropriate for a young woman on Earth.

Hesitantly, she raised her gaze to her reflection in the mirror. Gone were her Earth clothes, the dark tresses, and the brown eyes the Angel of Transition had given her. Dora the angel looked back at her, complete with white-blond hair, blue eyes, halo, wings, and robe.

CHAPTER 2

“Disaster. I knew it,” Calvin mumbled into the Earth Pool as the roar of the blender in the Falcone kitchen subsided into silence.

“What disaster?”

He turned to find Dora’s best friend, Grace, standing at his elbow and peering over his shoulder. Wringing his hands, his wing feathers protruding every which way, he shook his head and paced the cloud.

“You need to ask? Dora, of course. She’s so preoccupied with the … material things that she’s given little or no thought to the emotional problems facing Tony and little Penny. This is going to be another of Dora’s disasters. Only instead of looking for a place to happen, she’s found it.”

The Head of Celestial Maintenance ran his hands through his mop of snowy hair. His halo tilted and slid off, slicing through the cloud and disappearing from sight. Grace launched herself over the edge, wings flap- ping confidently, and reappeared moments later with the lost halo clutched in her hand.

“Thank you.” Calvin set it back in place, then resumed his pacing, stirring up large puffs of cloud as he turned and headed back to retrace his steps. “I just knew I would regret this. Her antics will have me consigned for eternity to—”

“Calvin.” Grace laid a calming hand on his arm, bringing his movements to a sudden halt. “You’re working yourself into a lather unnecessarily. She’s only been down there for a few hours. Give her time to acclimate. She’s really a bright girl. She’ll do fine.”

Calvin huffed. “You always stick up for her. To tell you the truth, Grace, I’m surprised you can say that after what happened with your wing feathers.”

Grace shook her head, sending her blond ringlets into a bizarre dance around her cherubic face. “It was a small mistake.”

“Small? Mistake?” The benevolent attitude of Grace in respect to Dora’s
small mistakes
, as she called them, baffled Calvin, especially when Grace had been on the receiving end.

His wings’ feathers popped out around him like buds opening on a warm, sunny spring day. Calvin frowned.

“I wish I had your confidence.”

“Dora has a good heart and an extraordinary understanding of humans and their needs that has helped more than one Guardian Angel out of a tough spot. Just last Valentine’s Day she helped Faith bring that lovely Anderson couple back together.” She smiled gently. “Give her a chance to prove herself.” When the frown between his eyes remained, she added, “If the Heavenly Council had enough confidence in her to agree to this, then you should, too.” She smiled gently, patted his arm once more, and fluttered off into the cosmos, leaving Calvin with his misgivings and visions of his uncertain future.

He hadn’t told Grace or Dora, but the Heavenly Council had been waiting for Dora’s request, and despite what he’d intimated to Dora, they’d been eager to allow her to take this trip to Earth. They hadn’t shared with him why, but he had his suspicions.

It was because of him, Calvin, Head of Celestial Maintenance … for now. They had gotten word of Dora’s disastrous past performances, and they were going to judge him by how well Dora carried out her assigned task below. If she did well, perhaps she wouldn’t be the only one moving up the celestial promotion ladder. However, if she failed, he could already hear the deafening rumble of the thunderclouds he’d be tending and the sharp edge of the lightning bolts he’d be polishing for the rest of eternity. He sighed. How had his entire heavenly career ended up in the hands of one inept angel?

He would simply have to keep a wary eye on Dora and hope he could head off trouble before it started.

At that very moment, Dora’s thoughts wafted heavenward.

Would his hair feel as smooth as this wood? Would his muscles be as firm as the wood beneath my fingertips? Would
—?

Calvin snatched up the thoughts and squeezed them in his fist until they disintegrated into nothing more than a wispy
poof
. The last thing he needed was Dora’s wayward thoughts drifting helter-skelter around the heavenly cosmos. More importantly, he didn’t need them to reach the Hall of Prayers and the ears of the Heavenly Council. He sighed. Even in heaven’s abbreviated time frame, this was going to be a very long four weeks.

Setting his face in a stern expression, he leaned over the edge of the Earth Pool.

Dora blinked and looked into the hall mirror again. A white ball of light appeared over her right shoulder and grew, until it took the form of Calvin, his normally smooth features compressed into a disapproving frown, his wing feathers a total mess.

“I’m going to remind you once more … do
not
get attached to the mortals.”

His scolding tone brought the hackles on Dora’s neck to attention. “I am not getting attached.” She glared mutinously at his reflection in the mirror.

“What do you call speculating about Mr. Falcone’s … physical attributes?” Calvin crossed his arms over his chest and arched one pale eyebrow in challenge. She knew if she could see his foot, it would be tapping the cloud aggressively.

Dora frowned. He was reading a great deal into some innocent musings. “I call it familiarizing myself with my charges.”

“Hmm. Just be certain you don’t
overfamiliarize
yourself.”

She huffed impatiently. “Honestly, Calvin, if you’re going to monitor everything I do and think, how am I supposed to do what needs doing?”

His arched eyebrow straightened, then dipped in unison with the other into a no-nonsense scowl. “Need I remind you of your past performances?”

Pouting her lips, she shook her head. “No, you don’t. But, please, it’s very important to me that I do this on my own.”

For a moment, he considered her request. “Very well. I’ll step back … just a little, mind you. If you need me, call, and if it’s something we need to discuss at length, come to this mirror.” He started to shimmer out, but stopped mid-shimmer. “You might want to look into this mirror from time to time, just as a reminder of who you are and why you’re there, but be careful the mortals aren’t around. We don’t want them to see you as an angel.”

“Will this,” she waved her hand at their images, “happen whenever I see my reflection in anything?”

Calvin shook his head. “No, just in this mirror.”

If he was so concerned that no one saw her as an angel, why had he picked a mirror positioned in the center of the downstairs of the house with so much traffic, rather than its twin, which hung in the privacy of her bedroom? She started to ask just that, but the front door opened, and Calvin shimmered out of sight.

Dora turned to find Tony and a small girl standing in the hallway. Hiding partially behind Tony’s leg, the child stared at her with large, green, frightened eyes. The color of her bright red coat collided with the copper-colored hair peeking from beneath her white knit hat. The coat gaped open to reveal a white blouse half in and half out of the band of a green and navy blue, plaid skirt. An overstuffed, heavy-looking backpack with fluffy, gray elephant ears dug deeply into her slim shoulders.

“Hello, you must be Penny,” Dora said quietly.

Squatting to the child’s eye level, she held out her hand. “I’m Dora.”

Penny turned her big green eyes to the man towering above her, silently asking permission to accept Dora’s greeting. Dora followed the child’s gaze.

“Say hello, Penny. Dora is your nanny, and she’ll be in charge of things while I’m at work.” While not stern or mean in any way, Tony’s tone was hardly what Dora would have expected from a loving uncle to a hesitant, obviously nervous six-year-old. More like one that he’d use to address a business associate.

Penny turned back to Dora. “Hello,” she said, barely above a whisper. Cautiously, she let Dora enfold her small hand.

The child’s touch brought an array of emotions surging through Dora: apprehension, confusion, and the strongest ones of all—loneliness, and oddly enough … guilt.

“Why don’t you take that heavy backpack off and put it over there so it’ll be ready for you to take with you tomorrow morning?” Dora smiled, and pointed to a spot on the floor beside the hall table.

“That would just clutter up the hallway. Besides, I have homework to do in my room.” Penny twisted her hand free.

Dora wondered how such adult words could come from such a small child. There would be time enough to speculate on that later. Right now she wanted to spend some time with her new charge. “Why don’t you bring it out to the kitchen table? I can make you a snack, and you can keep me company while I make supper.”

Supper
? She hadn’t thought about that. Did she know how to cook?

I told you, you’ll have what skills you need when you need them
, Calvin reassured her.

She sighed in relief and turned her attention back to the child.

As she started toward the stairs, Penny’s step hesitated. “A snack?” She glanced at her uncle again, longing evident in her eyes.

Tony removed his coat and hung it in the hall closet before speaking. “Penny doesn’t have snacks before meals. It ruins her appetite.” He turned to his niece. “Take your things upstairs and get started on your homework.”

“Yes, Uncle Tony.”

Dora stepped forward. “May I come with you? I haven’t seen your room yet.” When Penny nodded silently, Dora followed her up the stairs.

Tony watched the pair ascend. He fought the urge to call them back and tell them that he wanted to go into the kitchen and have that snack with them, to sit around the table like he and Rosalie used to do and share their day’s events, to become a real family again, but he couldn’t. He’d been a family with Rosalie and lost her, then ended up experiencing more pain than he ever dreamed he could bear and still live. He just couldn’t open himself to that kind of agony again, not even for his beloved niece.

Besides, she had Dora now. Dora would be good for Penny, and for more than just having a woman around to fix her hair and pick out her clothes and all the other
girl
things Penny needed. She’d be someone for Penny to talk to about her parents. Something Tony found impossible to do.

He glanced at the spot on the staircase where they had disappeared from sight. His mind played over the image of Dora’s swaying hips and dark, silky hair. Then he shook away the vision. He really needed to get himself under control. He couldn’t afford to lose Dora and he would if he kept drooling over her and scared her away. Penny needed her. He needed her, and his infant construction business needed his attention. He could no longer divide himself between Penny and his job and hope to be successful at either.

Starting up a fledgling business in a new area hadn’t been easy. That he’d gotten this project at all had been a stroke of good luck. Completing it meant the difference between success and failure. As such, the Jefferson project had to come in on time. If it did, he could sit back and relax a bit. His business would be on solid footing at last, and he would be able to look forward to more such lucrative projects.

Upstairs, Dora entered Penny’s bedroom. Penny set her backpack on a chair in front of a neatly arranged desk. She took off her coat and hung it in the closet. Dora looked around. As with the rooms downstairs, Penny’s was clean and tidy.

A four-poster, white bed stood against the far wall, its flower-bedecked coverlet neatly pulled over the pillows and tucked under. A brown teddy bear, a lavender bunny, and a green stuffed turtle sat propped against the pillows. A spotless, white rug covered the polished pine floor. The room looked like something in a furniture showroom. Certainly not like a room a six-year-old girl lived and played in.

“Your room is lovely,” Dora said in an attempt to get Penny to talk to her. She walked to a series of shelves hanging above the dresser that held about a dozen dolls. “Are all these yours?” She picked up one with a yellow dress and long black curls.

Penny removed it from her hand and replaced it. “Thank you.” Returning to her desk, she pulled a book from her backpack and then a notebook. “I have to do my homework,” she said and sat down, flipped open the book, and picked a pencil from the holder on the desk.

Though Penny’s tone had not been in the least rude, Dora felt as if she’d been summarily dismissed from the room. “Of course you do. I have to go start supper.”

She let herself out, closed the door, and stood in the hall for a while. To her mental to-do list she added,

Teach Penny to be a child
.