Daniel's Gift (20 page)

"You started thinking about your mom, didn't you?" Jacob slid off the swing and walked over to Danny.

"I can't help it. I miss her."

"I know, kid."

"Don't you miss your mother?"

"She's dead, too."

Danny looked at him with curiosity. "Can you be with her -- up here or wherever it is that we are? Since you're both dead?"

"Not yet. But someday, I think. There are a few things I have to do first."

"Like what?"

Jacob tugged Danny's cap down tighter on his head. "Like set you on the right path."

"What does that mean?"

"That means, kid, that I have to help you learn a few things during the time we have together. I have to sort of prove myself to the Big Guy upstairs. See, I haven't always been the perfect angel ..."

Danny snorted. "I can believe that."

"Hey, I taught you how to fly, didn't I?"

"Yeah. But next time you better teach me how to land." Danny untangled himself from the bush. For the first time he looked around him. "Look, we're at my Aunt Merrilee's house."

Jacob grinned at him over his shoulder. "Imagine that."

"And there's my mom and Alan," Danny said, pointing to the Ford truck pulling up in the driveway.

The truck stopped and Jenny got out. She stood for a moment, shielding her eyes against the midday sun. Alan came around to her side and took her hand. Then, the front door flew open, and Merrilee rushed out.

"Oh, thank goodness," Merrilee said.

"Why? Has something happened? Did the hospital call?" Jenny asked in panic.

"No, no, I'm just relieved that you decided to finally get some rest."

"Oh." Jenny let out her breath.

"Are you hungry? I made some fresh pasta and a salad."

"Oh, Merrilee, I wish you hadn't gone to the trouble."

"No trouble at all," Merrilee said firmly. "Good nourishment will get you through this."

As they walked up the path to the house, Merrilee stopped abruptly. She looked at the rosebush in front of her living room window. "What on earth happened to my roses? They're -- " She took a step closer. "Why, they're completely smashed, as if someone sat in them."

"Oops," Danny muttered, looking over at Jacob. "Guess I did that."

"I may have to replant," Merrilee added.

Alan cleared his throat. "Merrilee, uh, do you think you could worry about your roses later?"

"I'm sorry. Let's go in the house."

Jenny didn't move. She stared at the rosebush for a long moment. "It's odd," she murmured, putting a hand over her heart. "I feel strange."

"Do you think she can see me?" Danny asked.

Jacob shook his head. "No, but she might sense that you're here, if you're as close as you say you are."

"We've always been close. Two peas in a pod, my mom always said."

"Danny," Jenny said.

"What's wrong?" Alan asked in concern.

She pointed at the bush. "That looks like something Danny would do. I almost feel like he's here -- right now."

"Of course, you do," Merrilee said, patting her arm reassuringly. "He's on your mind."

"Remember last Easter, when Danny kicked the soccer ball through your window?"

"How could I forget?" Merrilee muttered. "I love your kid, but he's accident-prone."

"I am not accident-prone," Danny said, making a face at Merrilee.

"Ooh, watch out, here comes your mom."

Jacob pulled Danny off to one side as Jenny walked over to the bush and picked off a perfect red rose. Lifting it to her nose, she inhaled the scent then looked around the yard. "I feel as if Danny's going to pop out from behind a bush any minute."

"Can I?" Danny asked.

Jacob shook his head. "Not on your life."

"Jenny, let's go in the house," Merrilee urged.

Alan sent her a strange look. "Are you all right? You look funny."

Jenny smiled. "Actually, I feel better now. In fact, I think I could even eat something."

Jacob turned to Danny. "Do you want to go inside?"

Danny didn't answer. He was already disappearing through the wall into the living room. Being invisible was beginning to have its moments.

Chapter Fourteen

Merrilee's living room was completely white -- carpet, sofa, drapes, and paint. The only color was the stark black grand piano in the corner. It was a stupid room, Danny thought, looking around in disgust. Certainly not a place where a kid could hang out and play video games. He wondered how his cousins could stand living in a house that was always clean.

Jacob picked up an antique vase on the coffee table and twirled it around.

"Hey, be careful," Danny said. "That's probably a hundred years old and worth a million bucks."

"It's a vase," Jacob said, tossing it in the air and deftly catching it with one hand. "You stick flowers in it."

Danny ran over and grabbed it out of his hand. Jacob laughingly pulled it away. It slipped between both their hands and crashed to the floor.

"Oops," Jacob said.

"Oh, no!" Danny cried, looking at the broken vase on the floor. He knelt down in dismay, then glanced up at Jacob. "How could you do that?"

"You grabbed it out of my hand."

"Are you sure you're an angel?" Danny demanded. "You don't act like an angel."

Jacob drew himself up in height, stretching his body into such thinness that his head touched the ceiling. "And just what do I act like?"

"A jerk."

"You could get into trouble for that, kid."

"Yeah, right. What are you going to do? Kill me?"

Jacob laughed in a long guffaw. "Good one, Danny boy."

"Come on, help me clean this up," Danny said.

"I can put it back together. I do have some power."

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Really? Cool. Let's see it."

Before Jacob could move, Merrilee rushed into the living room with Jenny close behind her.

"I thought I heard a crash," Merrilee said. "Oh, my." Her hands flew to her cheeks. "My vase, it's broken."

"How did that happen? No one was in here," Alan said.

Jenny stared at the broken vase. "Danny," she murmured. "This is too weird."

"Constance, William," Merrilee yelled. "Come down here this instant.

Danny watched as his cousins came into the room, Constance moved slowly, with definite annoyance on her face. William bounded in with bright eyes and a cheerful smile.

"Yes, Mother," he said.

Danny rolled his eyes. "Geek."

"Did you break my vase?"

"No, Mother. I'm not allowed to play in the living room."

"I know the rule," Merrilee said crossly, turning to her daughter. "Constance?"

"I was on the phone. Can I go to the mall?"

"What? No." Merrilee shook her head. "I want you here."

"Mother. You wouldn't let me go out last night, and you won't let me go out today. Why are you holding me prisoner?"

"I want you to be here in case we all need to go to the hospital or something," Merrilee said.

Constance sighed. "Can I go now?"

"No, you can't. Someone in this house broke my vase."

"Maybe it was sitting close to the edge and just tipped off," Alan suggested.

Merrilee immediately shook her head, disregarding his comment completely. "I want the culprit to confess right this instant."

No one answered. Finally Jenny spoke. "Danny did it."

All eyes turned to her in surprise.

"I don't know how, but he did it. I can feel it. I can feel him in this room, right now."

"You mean like Danny's a ghost or something?" Constance asked, with new life in her voice. "Awesome."

"Jenny, you're not thinking clearly. You're distraught," Merrilee said. "Danny is in the hospital. He's not here."

"Look, this isn't getting us anywhere. I brought Jenny here to rest. Maybe I should take her to a hotel," Alan said.

"Don't be ridiculous. Let's go back to the kitchen. Jenny can eat, then lie down in the guest room."

Merrilee led the way out of the living room, followed by her children and Alan. Jenny was the last to move. She paused in the doorway between the living room and dining room, glancing back one last time.

"Danny," she murmured.

"Can I let her see me, please?" Danny asked.

Jacob shook his head, his expression suddenly serious. "I'm sorry, kid. Not yet."

"I love you, Danny," Jenny whispered. "Wherever you are." She walked back to the kitchen.

"I want to talk to her, Jacob. Tell me when I can."

"Maybe soon."

"Maybe soon or maybe never?" Danny's voice trembled. "I'm going to die, aren't I? Aren't I? When is it going to happen? Today, tomorrow? Next week?"

"You haven't learned anything yet, have you?"

"What am I supposed to learn?" Danny shouted in frustration. "Tell me, and I'll learn it."

"That's the problem. I can't tell you."

"Then tell me this -- who gets to decide if I live or if I die? Do you?"

"No, not me."

"Then God. I want to see Him."

"This isn't Mars, Danny. You can't demand that I take you to my leader. You know, you've had things pretty much your own way all your life. Your mom didn't have much money, but she scraped to get by, to give you those shoes you wanted that were what -- ninety dollars?"

"Seventy-two," Danny said grumpily.

"And what about that trip to the mountains with Christopher's family over -- Thanksgiving, no less? Do you know what your mom did that holiday?"

"Yeah, she spent it with my Aunt Merrilee."

"No, she served drinks at the Acapulco Lounge every night till two a.m. to prevent the check she wrote for your skis from bouncing. She didn't get one bite of turkey. And what about that window you broke last Halloween and blamed on Christopher?"

"All right, I get the picture." Danny frowned at Jacob. "So I'm being punished?"

"No. But you have to admit you've been pretty selfish."

"If I promise to be a better kid, do I get to live?"

"If it were that easy, there'd be very few of us in heaven. You can't bargain for your life, Danny."

"You know something, I don't like you very much," Danny said, crossing his arms in front of him. "And I'm not sure I even believe there is a God. No one answers my questions."

"But sometimes your prayers are answered. Do you remember the prayer you said on the bus trip to your father's house?"

Danny thought back. "I don't know. I probably said I wanted to meet my dad."

"Have you met him?"

"Sort of."

"Do you think you would have met him if you hadn't had this accident?"

"You mean I brought it on myself?"

Jacob didn't answer him. "What do you want more than anything else in this world, Danny?"

"I want to live."

"And?"

"I want my parents to get back together."

"What if you had to choose, Danny, between living and your parents getting back together? What would you choose?"

"I can't choose. I want them both. Are you saying I have to make a choice?"

* * *

Choices. Stay here or go home to his wife. Not much of a choice. Richard set his glass of Chardonnay down on the kitchen counter and picked up a piece of cold, soggy pizza. The spicy pepperoni was the only good thing about it. But he was hungry, and it was food, nothing like the dinner Merrilee probably had waiting at home for him. Thank God! He'd come to associate her dinners with migraine headaches.

Everything was too perfect -- the china, the glassware, the presentation of food, even the conversation. The kids suffered in silence while Merrilee pretended they were as happy as a sitcom family on television.

Come to think of it, not even a sitcom family was as "happy" as they were.

Enough was enough. For seventeen years, he had tried to make it work. Merrilee didn't help. She refused to admit they had problems, so how the hell could they solve them? Now, he just wanted out. Out of the marriage, out of the pressure of being the perfect husband to go with his perfect wife.

He was forty-three years old, for God's sake, and he had been in marriage hell for most of that time. The first year, before Merrilee's mother died, had been good. She had been a sweet young girl who adored him. Then she had taken over raising her brother and sister, not to mention her own kids. The sweet girl had vanished. Merrilee had become a demanding control freak.

Everything was a responsibility to her, even making love. No spontaneity. No humor. It had gotten so bad, Richard was afraid to make a move for fear he was going out of order. First he had to touch her breasts, five minutes or more, then use his mouth, then work his hands between her thighs. It had become a fucking bore -- literally.