Angel Unaware (8 page)

“Will you?” Penny asked again.

Roused by Penny’s question, Dora turned to look at Tony, who had neither moved nor spoken. “Uncle Tony?”

Still Tony didn’t move. His face had turned unusually pale. It occurred to her what must be rushing through his head; other people, other Christmases. She got up and went to him. Placing her hand on his arm, she felt his anguished thoughts rushing through him, and they confirmed her own conclusions.

“Treasure the old memories and keep them close, but make room for the new ones,” she said quietly so Penny couldn’t hear.

Tony stared down at her for a long moment and then shook his head. “I’m sorry. I just can’t,” he blurted, and rushed from the room.

“Did I do something wrong?” Penny asked, her voice cracking on a sob.

Dora hurried to her side and hugged her close. “No, sweetie. You didn’t do anything wrong. Uncle Tony isn’t feeling well.” She held her at arm’s length. “Now, I think you and I need to get this tree dressed for Christmas.” Leaving the tree topper on the coffee table, she handed Penny a bright red ball. “I think this one might look really good right in the front, don’t you?”

Penny took the ball, glanced at the treetop, and nodded. “Maybe tomorrow, when Uncle Tony feels better, we can put the tree topper on.”

Dora smiled and nodded. “Yes, maybe tomorrow.” But she imagined it would take longer than one day for Uncle Tony to face that tree topper and overcome the memories in which it was wrapped.

Early the next morning, Dora returned from driving Penny to school, a harrowing trip to say the least, but one she was sure she’d get used to in the days to come. Unlike her cooking skills, driving didn’t seem to be something she would be doing with any degree of proficiency in the near future. So far not one appliance had tried to cut her off on the way to the refrigerator, nor had any of them made rude hand gestures at her.

Certain that, given a few moments, her hands would stop shaking and her knees wouldn’t feel quite so rubbery, she hung up her coat and grabbed the empty coffeepot. The coffeemaker had just belched its last when the back door opened, and a woman’s singsong call disturbed the silence of the house.

“Yoo-hoo!”

Standing just inside the back door was a rosy-cheeked woman in her late fifties, smiling at Dora, tight salt-and- pepper curls framing her face, and a bright, flowered apron encircling her slightly ample girth. Cradled in the woman’s hands was a blue cake plate, on which sat a chocolate confection dripping in gooey, white icing dotted with plump, red strawberries.

As Dora dried her hands on a paper towel and smiled back, her salivary glands kicked in, flooding her mouth with moisture. She was developing a real fondness for mortal cuisine, especially the sweet desserts, and this one looked especially scrumptious.

Dora dragged her gaze from the cake, swallowed the new accumulation of moisture her salivary glands had flushed into her mouth, and grinned. Calling on the details the Angel of Transition had told her, Dora decided this had to be Millie Sullivan. “Hello.”

“Hello, dear. I waited until you’d gotten back from taking Penny to school.” The woman extended the cake. “I thought we could have a bite of cake and some get-acquainted coffee. I’m Millie Sullivan. I live next door.”

Before her trip down here, Dora had been filled in on a few of the facts about the bighearted woman who had deemed it her job to watch over Penny and Tony. As a result of her deep belief in and abiding love for the celestial residents, Millie had gained quite a following
up there
. Oddly, her limited knowledge about Millie aside,

Dora felt an instant affection for the woman.

“I’m Dora DeAngelo, and I’d love some of that luscious-looking cake. I have fresh coffee just waiting to be shared.” She got out two cups and saucers, cream and sugar, forks, and cake plates. Handing Millie the cake knife, she said, “You cut the cake, and I’ll pour the coffee.”

Moments later, they were settled at the table, each with a large slab of chocolate bundt cake and a cup of steaming, fragrant coffee in front of them.

“I am so glad Tony decided to bring someone in to see to Penny. It’s been such a strain on him, and although he means well, he’s been feeding the poor child all kinds of unhealthy food.” Millie tilted her head in Dora’s direction, a conspiratorial look in her sparkling blue eyes. “Between you and me, the man couldn’t cook his way out of a brown paper bag.” She laughed, and the sound flooded over Dora like sunshine. Then Millie went suddenly serious. “You can cook, can’t you, dear?” “Oh, yes. And I must say I’m pretty good at it,”

Dora said, finding Millie’s laughter infectious.

“Probably something you inherited from your mother. I always believed that a talent for good cooking runs in a family.”

Dora refrained from replying.

“I can see you and I are going to get along very well. I have more cookbooks than the local Barnes & Noble. Preston, he’s my husband, says that one day he’ll have to build an extra room just to hold them all.” She took a sip of her coffee. “And if you need any help with Tony and Penny, dear, you just yell. Lord knows, I’ve tried to help them all I can, but Tony is so pigheaded and seems so determined to do this alone.” Millie stopped talking long enough to shovel a bit of cake in her mouth and then follow it up with another sip of coffee. “I sometimes think he’s trying to prove something to his dead sister.”

She made a
tsk-tsk
sound with her tongue.

“How long has it been … since the accident?” Calvin had told her about the day that had changed Tony and Penny’s life, but she wanted to hear Millie’s take on it. Dora picked up a particularly fat strawberry and popped it in her mouth, savoring the sweet juice that flowed over her taste buds and then prolonged the pleasure by licking the chocolate from her fingertips.

Millie furrowed her brow. “I think it’s a little over a year now. Yes, it was September, shortly after the school year started.” She shook her head. “So sad. Rosalie was so young, so full of life. She and Matt were so in love, and both of them adored that little girl. Tony—” She put her hands together and looked heavenward. “Tony thought Rosalie was the be-all and end-all. He loved her dearly.” She brushed some cake crumbs from the table into her palm and deposited them on her empty plate. “Rosalie and Matt were on their way to get pizza after they’d picked Penny up at school, when a car ran a red light and smashed into them. The driver was so drunk he didn’t even realize he’d been in an accident until the police showed up, gave him a sobriety test, and issued him a ticket, then carted him off to jail. Rosalie and Matt died instantly, thank the Lord. Penny was fortunate enough to go unhurt.” She made a derisive sound with her tongue. “There was no one else to care for little Penny, so Tony sold his condo and moved here from Georgia.” Millie covered Dora’s hand with hers. “I can tell you, I wasn’t sure that man would ever recover from his sister’s death.”

Dora wanted to say that he hadn’t recovered, but she held her tongue. She hadn’t been around long enough to make that type of observation without causing a shower of questions.

Obviously feeling quite at home, Millie got up and retrieved the coffeepot. She filled both their cups and returned the pot to the base. Dora smiled inwardly. She had a feeling that Millie was what they classified
up there
as a
Giver
, someone who gleaned all their life’s joys from doing for others.

“Do you have children, Millie?” Dora asked on an impulse.

The joy faded from Millie’s eyes. Moisture gathered immediately in their blue depths, and Dora regretted her question. She should have remembered that Calvin had told her Millie was barren. Dora could have bitten off her tongue. The last thing she wanted was to cause this sweet lady any distress.

“Oh, Millie, I am so very sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

“It’s all right, dear. The Lord never blessed us with children.” She bowed her head. “I used to mourn the fact that I would never have a baby of my own to hold. But I’ve become resigned over the years. I’m sure He had a good reason.”

“I’m so sorry,” Dora said again, the words coming from the deepest part of her heart. Though she professed otherwise, Dora wasn’t so sure Millie had ever become completely resigned to her fate.

Millie sniffed, dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her flowered apron, and smiled. “Water under the bridge, Dora. Water under the bridge.” She laid her hand on Dora’s again.

For a moment, Dora was so stunned by the amount of love pouring into her from Millie, that she almost snatched her hand away. Never had she felt a love like this before. It embodied everything she’d always imagined of love: strength, warmth, comfort, understanding, forgiveness, and genuine affection for those for whom she cared deeply. It was the kind of unconditional love a mother gave a child. How sad no child would ever know it.

When Millie stood and removed her hand, severing the connection, Dora almost cried out at the loss.

“Well, I’ve bothered you long enough. Besides, Pres may be up from his nap.”

“Pres?”

“Preston. He has a heart condition, and he naps every morning and afternoon.” She shook her head as she headed toward the door. “Personally, I think a bit of exercise would be more beneficial than a nap, but …” She shrugged and extended her hands in a helpless gesture. “In all our years together, he’s never listened to me, so why should he start now?” She gave a little resigned laugh.

Dora made a mental note to speak to Calvin about Preston. He could check the Book of Lifetimes and see where Preston’s name fell in the Time Continuum. Of course, she wouldn’t be able to pass anything she learned on to Millie, and she wasn’t sure exactly why she wanted to know, but she felt an urgent need to find out if Preston was scheduled to leave Millie any time soon.

“When she gets home from school, you make sure Penny gets a piece of that cake,” Millie said as she opened the back door and pointed at what was left of the bundt cake.

Cold air rushed into the warm kitchen. Dora shivered but followed Millie onto the porch. “Tony discourages Penny from having snacks, especially sweets, before dinner. He says it’ll ruin her appetite.”

Millie stopped on the back porch and swung quickly around. “What? That poor baby has such a small tummy; she needs something between lunch and supper.” She shook her finger at Dora and continued in a no-nonsense tone. “You give it to her anyway, and tell Tony if he has a problem with that, he can talk to me.” She stepped off the porch and hurried through the snow to her back door, mumbling as she went.

“I’ll tell him what you said.” Wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the cold air, Dora ducked back inside, closed the door, and headed for the hall mirror. Positioning herself in front of it, she squared her shoulders and called out, “Calvin.”

Silence.

Louder. “Calvin!” More silence.

Frustration began to swell inside her. She had told him to stop hovering, but she’d hoped he’d still be available for special consultations.

“Calvin!” This time, her volume made the mirror tremble on its hook.

A ball of light appeared in the center and slowly began to enlarge. “You called?” Calvin asked, when he finished shimmering into view. His pale brows were drawn together in a straight line, a definite sign of his impatience with this interruption of his duties.

“Yes. I have a favor to ask of you.”

“What is it?” He smiled, and she knew he was hoping she was, as the mortals said, crying uncle.

“I want you to check the Book of Lifetimes, and find Preston Sullivan listed in there. Then look to see when his time will come to an end.”

Dead silence again. He crossed his arms over his chest and slanted a look of distrust at her. “And just why would that concern you?”

How could she give him a reason when she wasn’t sure herself why she wanted to know? Dora blew out a frustrated breath. “Does there have to be a reason for everything, Calvin?’”

“There does when this is none of your business, when it’s not the reason you were sent down there.”

“Please, Calvin. This is important.”

He shook his head. “Not a chance. You should not be butting in where you have no business. Gladys and Ezekiel are assigned to watch over the Sullivans. Leave this to them.”

She stomped her foot. Her halo slid sideways. She ignored it. “How do you know that it’s not my business? How do you know Gladys and Ezekiel don’t need assistance? It wouldn’t be the first time an angel found she had more than one assignment or that one assignment overflowed into other areas.”

“Not this time,” he said firmly, obviously not about to budge. “Trust me. I know. You will leave this to the Sullivans’ Guardian Angels and keep out of it. Are we clear?”

Her mouth set in a defiant line, Dora nodded. “Good. Now, I suggest you forget this foolishness and concentrate on what you’re there for—helping the Falcones.” He started to shimmer out and then stopped.

“By the way, that little thing,” he fluttered his fingertips, “you did with the salesman at the tree lot and with the shipment of lumber at Tony’s construction site? Frowned on, Dora. Strongly frowned on. Someone could have seen you at the tree lot, and the child might have walked in on you at the house. Oh, and I might add that I’m not pleased with this stubborn streak you’ve adopted since going below. It’s not becoming. It would appear that I’m going to have to keep a very close eye on you, Dora.” Instead of fading slowly, as was his custom, the ball of light popped loudly, and Calvin was gone.

Dora was about to turn away when she heard a loud
pssst
coming from the mirror. She looked back and found her best friend’s reflection. “Gracie!”

“Shh,” Grace said, her voice a mere whisper. She glanced around her, and then turned back to Dora, her face a study in concern. “We don’t have much time. I know an angel over in the Time/Life Department. I’ll see if I can get the information you asked Calvin for.”

Dora grinned. “Thanks, Gracie. I owe you one.” “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Grace circled her thumb and forefinger and then vanished.